#i made this the other day the morning after the full moon | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

biteofcherry · 8 months

Text

Hardwood

Bad Moon Rising Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Alpha Ari Levinson x omega female reader; shifter!Ari Levinson x shifter!reader

summary: Though you knew your heat is nearing, the way it hits you in the morning and how you act is very unexpected.

warnings: primal kink; breeding kink; mating cycles; heat; knotting; unprotected sex; dirty talk;

The bed seemed warmer than usual as you stirred from your sleep. Your hand on the vacant spot right next to you, where Ari should be sleeping, trailed after the imprint of his presence.

That he was out of bed before you wasn’t a novelty; though Ari liked to be the one waking you up with his wandering hands and mouth, more often he was up on his feet, preparing for the day - and making you breakfast.

His scent was quite strong as you took a long, deep breath that stretched into a yawn. Fresh pine and resin, reminding of taking a stroll through the woods.

Perhaps he got out of bed just moments ago.

Though usually you stayed in bed a bit longer, your consciousness snapped to functionality and your body was rousing with eagerness to find your mate.

Had to be the hunger, you told yourself as you donned on a washed-out t-shirt and silk, pink pajama shorts. One of Ari’s best traits as a mate was the fact he made hearty, delicious breakfasts. He had zero patience for washing the dishes and often annoyed you with how carelessly he did them, but he made up in the cooking department.

Your head filled with all the tasty options that Ari could be cooking as you padded downstairs and into the kitchen. However, the moment you stepped inside, your brain lost its track of thought.

The sight of Ari moving around the kitchen in tight jeans (belt unbuckled and clinking as he moved) and nothing else wasn’t shocking. It was a norm - Ari’s slutty exhibitionistic wardrobe choices. And yes, you always allowed yourself to ogle, since his sinfully hot body was all yours to admire and crave.

But there was something different with the view he presented this time, or rather your reaction was different.

Watching Ari in his clothes was enough to turn you on, seeing him half naked had a stronger effect, but the whole process of arousal was a fire slowly growing from smaller flames. This time your whole body snapped to attention immediately.

If it wasn’t obvious to you that Ari is the center of your wolf’s rapid focus, you’d suspect she sensed danger; that she tensed your muscles and sharpened your senses to react to a possible threat.

You knew Ari was aware of you coming down the stairs and walking into the kitchen, you wouldn’t be surprised if he sensed that you woke up, but it was the tiny changes in your breathing that made him pause and look up.

When his blue eyes met yours, your body reacted with a gush of slick.

Ari straightened slowly. Each inch he gained as he stretched to his full height thrummed through your body with a jolt of arousal. He reached to the side and turned off the coffee maker, then pushed the pan off the stove.

“What are you doing?” You asked, voice a little shaky as you licked your lips.

“Postponing breakfast, since it’s obvious your heat won’t wait any moment longer,” Ari replied. Though his words were on the amusing side, the drop in his tone betrayed how affected his own wolf was.

You didn’t deny his assessment. There was no point playing coy, or lying. Not when the craving increased with each passing second.

Your toes curled as you considered simply jumping Ari right there. Then your gaze flicked to the door leading outside into the backyard, a thought of running away with the thrill of adding more adrenaline before your Alpha pins you down and knots your needy cunt.

“Don’t.” Ari’s warning growl turned your nipples painfully stiff.

Your gaze obediently returned to him. Neither of you moved, the tension grew unbearable as you seized each other up.

“You like the chase.” You countered, feeling your heartbeat accelerate in excitement.

“I do. But my omega is in heat and no one is allowed to even get a whiff of that maddening, sweet scent.”

Ari’s possessiveness often irked you, leading to a few loud arguments in the past. You knew it wouldn’t change, not with how close to the surface Ari’s wolf was all the time. Definitely not with his position of an Alpha, which meant that as his mate you were also a tool of power and he wouldn’t allow anyone to challenge him by poaching you.

At the moment, however, there was something deeply satisfying in his desire to keep you for himself only.

You knew it wasn’t your wolf - that bitch was already in a presenting position whining for the Alpha to take her - it was your human side, the teasing and stubborn streak of humanity that made you take those fast steps toward the door anyway.

You didn’t even manage to touch the doorknob.

Large hand gripped the front of your neck, yanking you back into a wall of muscles.

Ari’s other arm tightened around you, caging your arms at your sides. His fingers curled tighter, pressing into your carotids and threatening to cut off your airflow. If anything, it only made your clit throb harder.

You snarled, trying to wiggle out of his hold. Futily. You weren’t even able to shake your head an inch. There was never a chance of going against Ari’s strength.

Ari kicked your feet apart and wedged his leg between them. Your hips rocked against his thigh desperately, silk bottoms sticking to your folds as you drenched at the mere friction his leg provided.

“Are you going to behave and let me take you to our bed?” Ari grunted, bouncing his leg slightly and making you moan. “Or do you want me to push you down here like a needy bitch in heat?”

You were horny before. You were in heat before. Many times. All those experiences seemed bland compared to the despair you felt. That need burst into a blaze in such a short time, that desire was mixing with irritation and evoking more impatient snarls from you.

When you tilted your head and bared your teeth at Ari, he snapped.

He bent your neck to the side and sank his teeth into your skin; your whine of pain turned into a little yip as you went pliant in his arms.

“Bitch in heat it is,” he growled, retracting his teeth.

Ari forced you down, not that you were struggling much anymore. He got you onto your hands and knees on the hardwood kitchen floor. His grip moved from the front of your neck to the back of it, holding you by the nape as he slapped your ass hard. Once. Twice.

Then with a single yank he ripped off your shorts, tossing the soiled, pink garment in front of you, so you could see how soaked through they were.

Heats always came with copious fluids, but - as with desire itself - it built up in hours. Heat with Ari proved to go from zero to hundred in nanoseconds.

Without prompting, you spread your legs wider and arched your back. Not only was your clit pulsing, but your folds did too, filled with blood and dripping slick. You pushed your hips back, soundlessly pleading for the stretch of your Alpha’s cock.

“Good omega,” Ari praised as you presented. “That’s it. Open up for the fat cock that you crave so much.”

He ran his fingers on the inside of your thigh, which was sticky with your juices, then slid them between your swollen folds. He didn’t tease you long, just a few strokes and then he was positioning himself behind you.

A pleased chirp at the stretch of the head of his cock pushing into your tight hole almost turned into a whine when Ari paused. But it was for a fleeting second, as he changed his grip to use both hands to grab your shoulders.

Then he slammed into you brutally, the force jerking you forward.

Ari’s strokes were languid, but purposeful, matching that primal hunger that melted away your humanity and left mostly the animal in charge. Though you still instinctively attempted to scramble away from the hard, merciless fucking, Ari’s hold on your shoulders prevented it.

The swirls of conflicting thoughts in your head dispersed, replaced by the sole focus on feeling. And chasing that frantic urgency to come. Your body was tuning in with the animalistic taking. Soon your hips were swaying back eagerly to meet each quickening thrust.

As remnants of instinctive fight left you and you gave in to nature's demand, Ari changed his hold on you. Pinning grip on your shoulders shifted, hands moving onto your hips instead to give him better leverage as he pounded you harder. At some point your arms wobbled and you fell forward, bracing your eight on your forearms.

Slight change in position tilted your hips up, allowing Ari’s cock a new angle that fucked the breath out of your chest and caused stars to burst beneath your eyelids.

You came with a long cry; your walls spasming tight around him. Squelching sounds matched the volume of slapping skin, only barely drowned out by Ari’s growls and staccato of your moans.

“So fucking tight.” Ari huffed. “Your greedy little pussy’s so desperate to milk every drop out of me.”

He draped his massive body over you, hands splayed right next to yours as he rutted into you. He almost stopped withdrawing, rocking his length deeper and deeper, and you felt the stretch start to build up.

“This what you wanted so much, huh?” Ari grazed his teeth over your shoulder, snapping his hips forward.

“Yes!” You keened, impatient for his knot to inflate.

“I know, my little omega,” he kissed the spot he just teased with his teeth, “I can sense that urge to be filled with my cum thrumming through your body.”

You were shaking at this point, thighs quivering as buildup to another climax heightened. It could happen any moment now, but something held it off, as if you were waiting for something specific. Something special.

It could only be one thing.

“My wolf is so proud that you want to have his pups,” Ari was mouthing along your skin, words unclear the more he nipped and kissed. “But I’d fuck you even if you resisted that need-” his teeth sank deeper as his thrusts grew frantic- “because babies or not, there’s no better fucking feeling than cumming in your pussy and locking you on my knot!”

A second later Ari’s teeth pierced your skin and his knot inflated; spurts of thick, warm cum filling you.

Momentarily, your whole body seized as your own orgasm hit full force.

Stronger than before, since your body was finally given what it craved more and responded to each splash of your mate’s cum. The stretch of knot provided stimulation as well, keeping you on that precipice of constant arousal.

A bit of blood trickled down where Ari bit you, but you paid it no attention, more focused on your Alpha’s comforting heaviness and all the cum that was filling your womb.

He groaned his own pleasure, trailing his lips tinted with your blood along your back. Irritated with the scrap of fabric he didn’t get rid of before, Ari ripped it off sharply, tossing what used to be a t-shirt aside. His mouth instantly returned to peppering kisses between your shoulder blades and one of his hands cupped your breast.

“These will fill up with milk soon, to feed our pups.” As he squeezed, your pussy fluttered. Or perhaps it was his words and the still pouring cum.

“You’ll be so responsive.” Ari hummed in delight. “Your tits are going to be so sensitive and leaking,” he pinched your nipple between his fingers and your clit throbbed in sync.

He played with your other breast before trailing his hand south, to where your abdomen grew taut as more of his cum stuffed your womb.

“Feeling heavy with my seed?”

Ari splayed his fingers over the slight swell and pressed. Which caused a whole new wave of sensations that wrecked your body with tremors, stirring heat’s hunger anew.

“F-uck!” A curse bubbled out of your mouth, along with hoarse admission- “Yes, Ari! Feels so fucking good.”

It did. You didn’t even try to comprehend if it was the hormone induced haze of the heat, or the animal side of you, or maybe it simply felt so fucking good to be filled with cum so much. You simply delighted in it. Craved more, too.

“You’ll get more.” Ari nipped your ear.

“And you will swell with it.” His growl stimulated your wolf, but also your human side reacted to it. “You’ll carry me a litter, omega. One after another.”

Again, your walls clenched. A small, needy whimper left your lips.

“I see you like the idea.” Ari chuckled, slipping his fingers lower. “Like to be bred by your mate, ‘mega?”

“Nghh, yes!” You bucked against him as his fingertips touched your swollen clit.

“Good girl, omega.” He kissed a spot right behind your ear.

“Now come for your Alpha one more time, so your womb drowns in more of my cum,” he started rubbing circles and wicked eights on your clit. “Then I’ll take you to the bedroom. Keep you all cosy and comfortable while you work your greedy cunt to earn another knot.”

#ari levinson x reader #ari levinson x female reader #ari levinson x you #ari levinson imagine #ari levinson smut #alpha!ari levinson #alpha!ari levinson x reader #alpha!ari levinson x omega female reader #bad moon rising #my writing

1K notes · View notes

perfectlyoongi · 4 months

Text

THE FEELING OF BEING ALIVE

ㅤ↬┊synopsis ... of all the emotions you've ever felt, none were worthy of making you feel alive; that is, until you invited your best friend over to your house after a night out.

ㅤ⚘.fandom ... bts. ㅤㅤಇ.ft. ... jungkook x afab!reader. ㅤ⚘.genre ... long-shot. ㅤㅤಇ.content ... smut (make-out, dry humping, tit play, bitting, cúm play, mi thinks a liiiil masturbatíon (m receiving), needy jk. if u squint u see that he likes u) - mdni pls !!, alcohol, mature language, best friends to ???, pet names (angel, love). i swear this is not angsty !! ㅤㅤಇ.word count ... 3.8k. ㅤ⚘.cole's note ... this was so f-ing hard oh god hope it's decent lol ♡ enjoy !! - not proof read, eng is not my 1st language xx

What does it feel like to be alive?

All your life you have sought the thrill of feeling alive. Between complex relationships and obscene adventures, years of your existence were dedicated to searching for the answer to that question that tormented your mind so much.

It was impossible not to think about something else – you always felt empty, like a puppet in the hands of a destiny that had little interest in you. Any emotion you felt, you felt vaguely, there really was nothing that made you happy or left you crying. You were simply hollow. Nothing existed in you.

As such, you were searching. You desperately searched for emotions and stories that could bring a little meaning to your life. You didn't ask for much, just a small sensation that would make you finally understand why you were here, why you were alive. However, until now, nothing lived up to your expectations – you continued to live day after day with the hope of a change that never seemed to come. But you weren't going to give up.

For now, you just wanted to have fun – who knows; maybe it was in the loud melodies of the club or in the sweet drops of your drink that you would find what you were looking for most. Or even in the hands of your best friend that didn't seem to let go of your body.

The club was full, noisy. The intense smell of alcohol invaded the space, drowned out by the loud and absurd music that echoed through the walls of the place. Different people participated in jovial rituals between rhythmic movements and colorful drinks, filling the club with pure entertainment and euphoria. And you were one of those people.

With your left hand you held a half-empty glass, moving it above your head according to the rhythm of the music that was playing. Your right hand was resting on Jungkook's shoulder, who, with both of his hands, held your hips as he helped you sway to his favorite song.

Jungkook had arrived today from his tour. It was your custom to meet up whenever he returned home, spending hours talking about the singer's adventures, recounting everything he had missed while he was away from your life. And, as usual, you always ended up in a bar or club, wanting to end your day completely drunk on pure ecstasy.

For some time now your words had lost all meaning. Both you and Jungkook were too focused on the alcohol coursing through your veins to hold any conversation. Not that it was necessary. Between you and Jungkook, there was no need to exchange words – a simple look was enough to understand each other.

The song was coming to an end, Jungkook slowing your movements as he held your left hand and pulled your glass towards him. After sipping your sweet drink, Jungkook brought his face closer to yours, his lips almost kissing your ear to make himself heard in the midst of that commotion.

“It’s already three in the morning.”

You nodded and, after finishing your drink, you held Jungkook's hand and left the club, bypassing men and women who still insisted on having a good time.

“Come on, I’ll take you home.”

Jungkook wrapped his arm around your neck, pulling you close to him before starting to walk through the city towards your house.

The night was beautiful. Sky clear of any clouds, some stars shining shyly around a single, full moon. Silence soaked in a gentle summer breeze, the whole city asleep as you and your best friend walked the sleepy streets that led you home.

Small laughs escaped your mouths. Not because any jokes were being told, but because Jungkook insisted on hindering your steps, wanting you to stumble in the air for his entertainment. The path to your house was short, a little bumpy with so much laughter and pushing, but it was genuine, covered with a blanket of pure comfort.

“Wanna come in?”

You were looking for your keys while waiting for a response from Jungkook; with his hands in the pockets of his pants, looking at the building before him, Jungkook smiled openly at your question, having secretly wished that you would invite him in – he had just missed you too much.

In the elevator of your building, you laid your head next to Jungkook, closing your eyes for a moment, as you felt his hand grab your waist to keep you safe. The silence between you was comforting, enveloping you in a small hug of serenity and warmth; in the peace between you, you felt safe, Jungkook's hand always attached to you reminding you that, with him, you had nothing to fear – and that was just one of the many reasons that made you like Jungkook so much.

You turned on the light in your apartment with a tired sigh.

Upon entering your house, your body instantly guided you to the kitchen where you took two beers from your fridge and gave one to Jungkook. After a small sip, you held your friend's hand and took him to your room, where the stereo was eager to make you dance one last time.

You turned on the music quickly, lowering the sound a little as not to disturb the neighbors, and, still drunk with the emotions of the club, you let your body move slowly to the sound of the music.

Jungkook sat on your bed, drinking his beer while replying to messages that had been on his phone since the beginning of the night. He rocked his body unconsciously, his thumb tapping quickly on his cell phone screen, wanting to ditch his obligations as a friend so he could focus entirely on the beer, on the music, on you.

“T’night feels long,” you smiled as you changed the song, your head bobbing to the beat. “In a good way, ‘course.”

“The night only started when we arrived at the club,” Jungkook let out a small laugh and threw his cell phone to the other side of the bed. “If you wan’, we can extend it ‘till dawn.”

You looked at Jungkook and smiled – you sealed his suggestion with a simple curve of your lips and a flutter of your eyelashes.

Even before Jungkook got up, you placed your beer on your bedside table and placed yourself in front of your best friend. Jungkook gently tilted his head to look at you, smile on his lips, tenderness in his hands as he placed them gently on your waist.

You placed your forehead against his while your body slowly danced to the music that echoed throughout the room. Your smile was big, but not bigger than Jungkook's who was still looking at you tenderly, the sparkle in his eyes making him even more adorable.

You had drunk too much – that's what you believed, that's what you repeated to yourself when your hands fell on Jungkook's shoulders and your body decided to sensualize your movements. And Jungkook let you dance. Taking his hands off of you, Jungkook just stared at you as he watched you move so slowly and sensually to the music.

He opened his legs on instinct and you placed yourself between them, rotating your body. You bent down gently, your ass brushing against Jungkook in a movement that was too quick for his liking. He just smiled, his tongue touching his cheek in an attempt to control himself as he saw you turn your body again and take the beer out of his hand and place it next to yours.

You were smiling yourself, teasing Jungkook with your tempting lips. And even before you walked away from him, Jungkook grabbed your hips again, pulling you towards him.

Your foreheads came together once again, your smiles still stuck on your lips. And a silence followed, only broken by the music from your stereo. However, between you and Jungkook, there was no need to exchange words – a simple look was enough to understand each other. And, as such, you and Jungkook leaned in at the same time for a kiss.

It started slowly, Jungkook tasting your lips, while he gently squeezed your body; but he quickly became thirsty, hungrier for you. Your hands held Jungkook's face, your fingers caressing your friend's silky hair as he pulled you closer to him, more than was possible.

You moved a little away from Jungkook to breathe, your lips so close that you could still taste him. One tease, two teases and, before you could tease Jungkook's lips a third time, he quickly brought your lips together again, using his tongue to accommodate itself in your mouth.

Jungkook guided you to his lap with his hands, making you sit on his legs and pulling, over and over again, your body close to his. His lips separated from yours and trailed your face, caressing your cheek, your jaw, your neck. Jungkook's lips worshipped your neck, leaving wet kisses on your skin, making you sigh as he gently sucked your essence. Your hand tangled in Jungkook's dark hair, gently pulling some strands when his kisses felt more enjoyable, making him smile against your neck.

Jungkook still had his hands on you, but he wanted more.

Still lost in your scent and focused on your neck, Jungkook's hands went down to your thighs, squeezing you gently before moving them up again, hiding them under your clothes. You sighed when you felt Jungkook's warm fingers on your skin — the way he squeezed you gently made you feel important.

“Kookie…”

“Hm?” He moved his lips back, following the same path as before, loving every corner of your skin. “Tell me, angel.”

You opened your mouth slightly, letting a new sigh escape your lips when Jungkook squeezed you again and pulled you towards him, your intimacy very slightly feeling Jungkook becoming hard.

“We’ still friends, right?”

He kissed you a first time and smiled. He kissed you a second time and ran his hands up your back. He kissed you a third time and nodded.

“Best friends,” he corrected you, smile stuck on his lips, fingers stroking your back.

“Good,” you kissed Jungkook again desperately, as if he were the answer to all the questions that clouded your mind. You were greedy. You only wanted him. You just wanted more of him.

Your hands grabbed Jungkook's shirt and, as quickly as you could, freed him from the fabric, throwing it roughly to the floor of your room. You could finally feel him. Your fingers lingered on your best friend's chest; caressing Jungkook made you feel lost, totally intoxicated by the softness of his skin, by the absurdity of the whole situation – what were you doing?

You decided to be the one to love this time, your lips getting lost on Jungkook's neck while kisses were left as memories of a fantastic night. In the crook of Jungkook's neck, your teeth sank into his hot skin, making him let out a small sigh that lingered forever in your room. More. You wanted to hear more.

Without realizing it, you started to move your hips, resting your forehead on Jungkook's shoulder, the friction forced by you making you sigh softly. And him too. Jungkook held your thighs again, helping your movements, sighing with his eyes closed at the feeling of having you so close to him.

Jungkook was starting to get impatient. He wanted more of you. He needed more of you.

He quickly took off your shirt, wasting no time admiring your body, kissing your skin immediately as his hands toke off your bra. With your breasts exposed, Jungkook became hungrier. His lips began to kiss your collarbone, trailing along your soft skin in paths unknown to him; it was only a matter of time before Jungkook found himself with your breasts.

You let a small moan escape your mouth when Jungkook began worshiping your breasts. Your friend's tender lips kissed your boob thirstily, gently sucking on your skin, carefully biting your very appetizing nipple. Jungkook's mouth was an expert at worshiping you. And you could only moan softly, gently. One of Jungkook's hands squeezed your other breast, his slender fingers pinching, teasing your exposed nipple. He seemed starving, completely hungry for you; Jungkook just wanted more of you, more of your smooth skin, more of your sensual moans.

He lingered on your breasts, making sure every corner of your skin was marked with his saliva. Your moans filled the room, motivating Jungkook to continue, to not stop worshiping you. He was completely intoxicated with you.

“Kook…” your voice came out weak, in a whisper, covered in small moans and teasing sighs. “Jung…kook…”

“Yea, my angel,” Jungkook moved slightly away from your chest, now looking at you for the first time since he had undressed you. His sweet eyes roamed every inch of your skin, admiring how naturally beautiful you really were, feeling more and more needy with each passing second.

You gently moved your hips, pressing your intimacy to Jungkook's, causing you both to let out a small groan.

“Can we…” Jungkook’s fingers traced your body, outlining every curve and mark with a provocative delicacy that only left you sighing deeply. “Can we do… more?”

Jungkook's response came in the form of a kiss, massaging your lips once again while his big hands slid to your ass and squeezed it tightly. You moaned softly when Jungkook bit your neck hard, marking his devotion on your skin, leaving you a memory of a night that had become magical.

Your hands quickly grabbed Jungkook's pants, impatiently unbolting them, causing Jungkook to laugh a little. But you didn't care; you hadn't even fully heard him. You needed more of Jungkook, you just wanted more of Jungkook.

In a quick maneuver you pulled Jungkook's pants, leaving them lying on the floor surrounding his feet, and looked at him. Your eyes shone with desire. Wherever you focused your gaze, you could only see fascination painted on Jungkook's face; his lips were slightly open, begging for one more kiss from you, begging for one more contact with your body; his eyes, so sweet and bright, now consumed by the greed that ran through his body, were locked on you, silently asking you if you wanted more, if you should continue.

For a moment, everything was static.

Your hands were resting on Jungkook's shoulders. Jungkook's hands were resting on your hips. Your eyes were lost in Jungkook’s attractive features. Jungkook's eyes were lost in your delicate features.

Just a moment. Just a second.

You were going to continue. You just wanted to continue.

You rushed in for an intense kiss, answering the question dictated by your best friend's eyes. As he kissed you, completely soaked in your essence, intoxicated with your fragrance, Jungkook's hands looked for the button of your pants, wanting to undress you as quickly as possible – he wanted to feel you.

You left Jungkook's lap for mere moments, just long enough for your pants to fall to the floor. You didn't have time to waste. Every second was precious when shared with Jungkook.

When you sat down on Jungkook's lap again, he let out a groan. You were wet, a lot. Your fluids passed through the fabric of your panties. And Jungkook felt it. Through his boxers, Jungkook felt your excitement.

Your hand went down to your friend's boxers as your lips seduced his neck. Above the fabric, your hand caressed Jungkook's penis, feeling how hard he was – because of you. Your thumb gently pressed the tip of Jungkook's cock, gently caressing it stimulated by the pre-cum that painted his boxers.

“F…fuck, ugh!” He could only groan. Feeling your touch, even if it was blocked by a cloth, drove him insane. With his head tilted and his eyes closed, Jungkook allowed himself to be pampered by you.

His mind was completely covered with pure pleasure and euphoria. Your lips kissed Jungkook's neck, your hand caressed Jungkook's cock, and Jungkook felt special at that moment, important.

“I want…” Jungkook’s voice was lost in his moans, trying to release words beyond the profanities that trapped his lips. “I want… you. Agh! More… please.”

You held Jungkook's shoulders with your hands again and, now stimulated by the fluids that stained your underwear, your hips began to move gently. The friction you caused seemed divine, guiding your mind to paths of pure pleasure and desire, creating moans in your mouth that were released weakly. Your voice stuck to Jungkook's skin, fixing the euphoria that ran throughout your body in his chest.

With his hands, Jungkook caressed your thighs. Feeling your soft skin in his hands as you brushed against him drove Jungkook crazy. Sighs and moans filled your room, completely drowning out the music that insisted on dictating the rhythm of your movements – but you didn't hear it, you were too focused on Jungkook to notice what was happening around you.

You kissed Jungkook again, your hands pressing down on his body. Jungkook let himself be guided by you, ending up laying down on your bed while he delighted in your intense kisses and precise movements. Your lips were poisonous, corrupting Jungkook's composure, forcing him to moan into your mouth, to squeeze your thighs, to get harder and harder.

“Jungkook…”

How divine it was to hear his name being pronounced by your sinful lips, adorned by the pleasurable sighs that escaped you. “Yea, my love?” And how sublime it was to call you that word with his hoarse voice, immersed in the desire that was trapped in his intense sighs.

“Tell me…” you moved away from Jungkook’s lips and approached his ear, your lips almost caressing it, your tongue teasing his sensitive skin. “Tell me when you’re close.”

You kissed Jungkook's neck, once, twice, three times, and after marking your teeth in the crook of his neck once more, you straightened your back, freely rocking your body on top of Jungkook.

Your friend's eyes were locked on you, completely mesmerized by your sensual movements. There was something about the way your hips moved, the way you brushed against Jungkook so perfectly, that made him impatient for more, completely desperate for you. But he just looked at you, admiring your every movement, retaining in his memory every sound that came out of you.

You were covered in pleasure. Even though you didn't feel Jungkook's penis in its entirety, you were excited – the friction was good, too good, making your intimacy increasingly wet, increasingly thirsty for Jungkook. You wanted more, you wanted much more. But you just brought your hands to your breasts, caressing them with the memory of Jungkook's touch in your mind, moving your hips faster.

Beautiful. You were simply beautiful. With your eyes closed, head tilted back and lips slightly open, you looked magnificent. With hands on your breasts and intimacy soaked, you were divine. Unique. That image was unique to Jungkook. Something he felt was not for his eyes, too lewd for him to be aware of. But, fuck!, how perfect you were.

“I’m…” Jungkook swallowed a moan before speaking, taking a deep breath when you touched the head of his cock. “I’m… agh!, close… close…!”

You smiled at yourself. So fast it was. So hungry he was.

You kissed Jungkook again once, twice, three times, and before separating your lips from his, your hands held Jungkook's, guiding them to your ass, making you smile.

“Use me however you want.” Your voice sounded so low, so perverse in Jungkook's ear that he couldn't stifle a new moan. You were too much for him.

Squeezing your ass, Jungkook helped increase the speed of your movements, making the pressure on him more intense for both of you.

Both you and Jungkook were out of control. Lost in each other's moans, disoriented by the exaltation that coursed through your bodies as part of you. You hid your face in the crook of Jungkook's neck, his fragrance mixed with his sweat clouding your mind. Nothing else existed at that moment. You felt nothing else at that moment other than the excess pleasure that Jungkook gave you with each pressure on your intimacy.

“Jung… fuck! Jungkook, I’m…”

“I’m close,” he repeated, breathlessly, not fully hearing you. His mind was stuck on the way you stained his boxers, completely focused on how perfectly you caressed his penis. “Close…”

“Fuck! Agh, Jung… U-ugh!” You bit Jungkook again when you felt a knot in your stomach, your head spinning when you finally came. A feeling of freedom washed over you, trapping your lips and staining your panties.

You felt good at that moment, completely fulfilled while Jungkook still kept pace, caressing your intimacy excessively, forcing you to let out moans and meaningless words, totally drunk with pleasure.

“Please…” your voice was hoarse, low, not wanting to be heard in its entirety so well you were feeling. “Jungkook, please, aghn!”

“Again,” Jungkook asked between moans, feeling his limit approaching faster and faster. “My… ugh… name!… again.”

You obeyed out of instinct.

“Jungkook.”

Like an enchantment hovering in the air, Jungkook's name sounded once again, embellished by your tired voice, framed by the pleasure he caused you. And that was all it took. Enticed by your voice, Jungkook couldn't contain his euphoria – pearl strands marked stains on his dark boxers, a long, low grunt accompanying Jungkook's climax as he slowed down his movements until he left you motionless on top of him.

Both you and Jungkook were panting.

Still processing the ecstasy that completely washed over your bodies, you and Jungkook remained lying with your eyes closed – your head resting on Jungkook's chest, his hands still resting on your ass. There was a moment of pause. Brief seconds of silence that were cut by music that was too pure for the occasion.

You finally smiled.

You gently lifted your torso and moved a little away from Jungkook's intimacy, just enough to be able to tease him. Your fingers invaded Jungkook's privacy driven by curiosity and were quickly bathed in his essence. You let that white fluid paint your fingers as you created art on Jungkook's penis with his own essence – up, down, on the head, along the entire length.

A small moan sounded between Jungkook's smile, his head lifting a little to see you.

“What’re you doin’?”

“I just wanna see the damage I did,” you shrugged and continued to stimulate Jungkook with his own cum as you smiled to yourself.

“If you continue, you’ll have to take responsibility.”

“Doesn’t seem that bad.”

You looked at Jungkook innocently, the contrast in your wicked smile being enough to drive your friend crazy once again.

All your life you have sought the thrill of feeling alive. And that night, when held in your best friend's arms and drunk on the pleasure he gave you, you almost found the feeling of being alive.

Maybe, but just maybe, the feeling of being alive was similar to the feeling of being worshipped by Jungkook.

ㅤㅤ♡ feedback is appreciated ♡

711 notes · View notes

buckets-and-trees · 3 months

Text

EVERY MINUTE OF IT

Characters/Pairings: Alpha!Bucky x Female!Omega!Reader Word Count: 4k Summary: Claimed unequivocally by Alpha Bucky Barnes, leader of the growing HYDRA faction, that's not the end of it. But what exactly is in store for you? What will it mean to be his Omega?

Content/Warnings: omegaverse; reluctant attraction; power dynamics; mild manipulation; threats; dirty talk; explicit smut: spanking, vaginal fingering, biting, rough sex, choking, edging, orgasm denial, slapping, spitting, oral (male and female receiving), unprotected vaginal intercourse and insemination, dacryphilia, overstimulation, erotic picture taking

Author Notes: Part three to what I never planned on being a series - the Alpha Bucky April drabble was only 500 words, the next part hit 1.5k, but this... well, let's just say this Bucky absolutely had his way with both me and my muse. This one will be a make up to tick orgasm delay/denail for MARCH of @buckybarnesevents Build a Bucky Bingo ; and the dialogue, alpha, and pet prompts for the second week of Hot Bucky Summer (thought this was going to be a short little thing I was going to whip out before week two had finished, but alas hahaha).

A/N 2: We've seen only a bit of his rough side up to this pont, but in this part we will truly see mean Alpha Bucky. Don't say I didn't warn you - here and with the actual content warning list.

A/N 3: I tried not to write any plot with this porn, but a minimal amount forced its way in.

He had made good on his threat, using your body for pleasure and for show under the full moon until there was no one left to watch, but you were not sure he had been keeping close track, instead merely taking you over and over until they grey hours of dawn. You had been too exhausted to register anything much after that – being carried away, a car ride, being tucked into a bed.

You had woken up in the afternoon alone.

Alone for the first time in three days.

On hearing you make your way to the bathroom someone had brought in water and left an impressive spread of food that lasted you through the afternoon and evening. You grazed and slept.

Your body and mind had been pushed beyond all previous limits, and so the sleep and rest had been most of those first few days after the full moon and the conqueror’s bonding ritual.

But now, a week on, you are tired, restless, and impatient.

You were in a spacious penthouse, you had been offered many luxuries, well fed by a personal chef, attended to by an assistant, your only restrictions being denied access to a phone or internet and barred from leaving the premises.

Should you have chosen an unplugged retreat or vacation, it would be perfect.

After contemplating and debating internally all morning, at lunch you make your decision. You finish yet another delicious meal, wipe your mouth with the beautiful linen napkin, and then set it down next to the bone china and plated gold utensils. The staff begins to move around you, and your assistant approaches.

Before she can say anything else, you take a deep breath and say, “I need to see him.”

There’s no question of who you mean.

She nods. “I’ll make the request.”

Whether pet or prisoner and left alone for more than seven days, you do not believe your request will be seen as any sort of priority, so when you see the more formal dining table set for two for dinner, your mouth drops open for a moment, and you stop in your tracks.

You turn to your assistant – even though she tries to afford you most of your privacy, she is ever on the edge of your presence. She looks as surprised as you. “I was given no response other than that they’d take the request under consideration.”

You nod, then pace, padding barefoot across the hardwood floor in front of floor-to-ceiling windows, until you finally hear the rustle and then commotion of activity that announces his arrival.

Your heart races, but it’s only a few more moments before the large and imposing alpha, Bucky Barnes, appears in front of you.

“Omega,” he says with a mere nod of his head, no pretense.

Your eyes narrow a fraction, wary of his seemingly easy demeanor. “Alpha.”

“Shall we?” he asks, and motions to the table.

You nod and take a seat as he does.

Within seconds, the meal is brought in by two attendants and the chef, and Bucky thanks and praises them very simply.

He occasionally looks at you, regarding you, but does not speak.

Before long, you huff, and he looks up sharply, pinning you with his steel blue eyes, harsher than at any point since he’d arrived. “What?” he demands.

“What is all of this?” you start, gesturing your hand to indicate the penthouse. “And where have you been?”

He sets down his knife and fork and straightens a little more. “Is it not to suited to your liking? You can change anything you want. This is your place.”

“My place?” you ask.

“Yes, your place. It is not far from the place I’ve taken up residence.”

The revelation is not surprising, but somehow more irritating. “And what? You’ve had me and now you’re discarding me?”

“I should have thought you’d want your own place.”

Maybe you should want your own place, away from him. And yet…

“I should be wherever you are.”

“What?” he scoffs. “So you can be embroiled in my affairs and bring me down? ‘Keep your friends close and your enemies closer?’”

The accusation wounds you, though you know it’s only logical – and you know what you’re thinking and feeling isn’t logical. You have determined to put off thinking about it.

“I’m not your friend,” you state, trying to keep your voice as even as possible. “but I’m not your enemy either.”

“What should I call you then?” he challenges.

You raise your chin a fraction. “I’m your Omega.”

He doesn’t speak or move immediately. Instead, his eyes somehow fix you even more intently. There’s a burning in your chest under his scrutiny, but you remain still.

Finally, he stands and moves toward you, the two of you never taking your eyes off the other.

“You are my Omega.”

He comes to stand behind your chair, and you remain unmoving. He takes your chin in his left hand and tilts your head to expose your neck to him. He leans down and noses along your jaw, inhaling your scent and putting your body on alert. You feel the curling tendrils of want stir in your core, already awakening for him. He tilts your head even more and draws his teeth along the side of your throat, causing a shiver you can’t suppress, and he chuckles darkly and licks at the fresher of the two bonding marks he gave you. His hot tongue, insistently pressing at the bite elicits a small noise from you, and your right hand shoots up to card into his hair. Your full omega side wants him, has started to slicken your pussy for him already, you can feel it. You know your alpha can smell it.

He bites over the mark, but not roughly enough to break the skin, and you arch up for more, but he pushes himself back up, away from you and the crook of your neck.

“So needy,” he remarks, “I like this.”

The first few days you’d spent with him, he’d kept you full of his cock, tortured with pleasure, overwhelmed, exhausted by him and the recipient of a seemingly insatiable lust unleashed on you.

This feels like the predator is going to play with his prey, and you bite your lip. He pushes your head, tilted to the left, to the right to drop into his other hand, clearly testing your compliance. It’s gentle, but it’s dominant. Back to the left, then to the right, and then he dips to nip at your ear, and you gasp.

Bucky releases your head from between his large hands then pulls your chair away from the table. “Up.”

You stand. He puts one hand on your hip and ushers you around the edge of the table and to the side, in the middle, and turns you to face the wide expanse of mahogany and its centerpiece of fresh flowers – white peonies, white roses, white hydrangeas.

“Put your hands on the table,” he instructs.

You press the palms of your hands onto the smooth, dark wood. Your omega side is ready – even eager – to comply, but with your own long game to play, you know you must play out whatever game he desires now.

“Arch your back,” is his next direction.

Keeping your breathing even, you do, hips jutting away from the table, on display for him.

The back of his hand lands at the nape of your neck, and he drags his knuckles slowly down your spine. Your body rocks back, seeking more, as he reaches the small of your back, and he hums in self-satisfaction.

While his vibranium hand plants itself on your hip, he moves the other around to skim slowly over your stomach, then up your rib cage, and to your breast. He gropes the round flesh through your shirt and bra, but the fabric does nothing to quell how the pressure stokes the fire growing in you.

You feel the heat of him press up your back as his hand moves now up your neck, turning your head to kiss him. You push back against him, and he ruts his bulge slightly into your ass. Your lips are hungry in the kiss, but it’s like he only provided his lips for you to kiss him, receiving what your lips want to give. He moves his hand back down to your chest, but this time slipping beneath the neckline and going flesh to flesh to palm your breast. He kneads diligently, almost methodically, and you know all of this is designed to warm you up, tease you, get you burning for him. He’s still largely a stranger to you, but you also know you can’t resist him. He’s spent so much time already playing with your body. He knows where and how to touch you to make you respond to him after those first days and nights spent naked with him.

Bucky moves again, ending the kiss, drawing away from your back and removing the hand from your breast. You whine, but that hand goes to the small of your back again, the vibranium hand squeezing your hip as he forces you spine to resume the curving posture for him once more.

“We’re only getting started, Omega. Be patient.”

You huff, and he laughs.

The fingers of both his hands slip into the top of your waistband. He slowly pulls your pants and underwear down over your hips, and down your legs to mid-thigh. It restricts your bottom extremities, and that plays into the mental game he’s clearly playing with you. His hands move up the back of your naked thighs, and then palms your ass with both hands. He squeezes both cheeks, goes back to palming them again, then withdraws his right hand and slaps that cheek harshly. You jump and yelp, but he merely goes back to palming and squeezing, soothing the smacked flesh. Then another slap, and you hiss at the sting over the first sting. His vibranium hand continues groping your round flesh, but instead of soothing the second smack, his flesh hand dips down to your dripping hole, where he inserts two fingers, then quickly adds a third.

“Alpha,” you moan, and your head falls back, eyes closed both to hold back a couple of tears and to soak in the barrage of sensations.

He doesn’t answer, but his fingers continue dipping in and out, slow and shallow.

He delivers another harsh slap, immediately returns to the maddening fingering until you’re keening and trying to hump his hand.

Abruptly he grips your hips with both hands and turns you around to face him. The cool metal hand grips you by the neck, tilting your face up helplessly to him, and this kiss is messy, demanding, teeth nipping at your lips. You kiss him back as well as you can as he is in full control of your head and holds you where he wants you. Both your hands hold tightly to his forearm, and you squeeze.

His other hand goes to the cut of you again below, but there’s more fervor there this time. He plunders your mouth and plunders your pussy, and you’re losing your breath, but you have no wish for him to relent as you feel the powerful orgasm you crave building and barreling towards you. His fingers curl against the spongy spot on your inner wall, this thumb is demanding against your pulsing clit, and his tongue is licking dominantly into your mouth. You’re trembling and clutching at him, moaning, only when your breath hitches, inches away from bliss, he pulls back.

You cry out as he looms over you. His smirk is cruel, and his eyes spark with fire.

“Alpha!”

He licks his one of his fingers, just one.

“Alpha, please,” you groan.

“My well-mannered Omega,” he coos. “We’ll make a mess of you yet,” he says. You’re unsure whether it’s a threat or a promise, but you have no space or time to think as he moves you again, hoisting and pushing you by the grip on your chin around and away from the table until your back is flush against the wall.

Bucky pushes you down to your knees, pinches your mouth open, then spits on your tongue. "Swallow it."

You don’t think, just swallow as his eyes bore into yours as he towers over you.

He strokes his thumb over your cheek – nearly a caress, and you can’t help leaning ever so slightly into his touch. Then his thumb moves from your cheek to your lips, tracing them before pressing down to open your mouth again. He inserts two of the fingers that had been in your cunt into your mouth, and you close your mouth and begin to suck without him having to say so. The look on his face shows his approval. As you suck, there’s something so soothing about, the weight of his fingers pressing down on your tongue, the stead rhythm, that it that lulls you even further into a state of submission for him. Your eyes begin to droop.

He chuckles and withdraws his fingers, wiping them on your face. “Don’t want that so soon in our evening.”

He begins to unbuckle his belt, and you reach for the button and zipper, but he bats your hands away and slaps your cheek.

You look up sharply at him, reaching to soothe your cheek.

“Ask nicely for your Alpha’s cock, Omega.”

His first nights with you were about physical domination. This is the other half, yielding, submission.

You think best how to ask, before saying, “Please let me put my lips around your cock, Alpha.”

He unbuttons his trousers but keeps his eyes on yours. “Tell me how you want me to use your mouth, Omega,”

“I…” you bite your lip. You aren’t a stranger to sex, but speaking so directly about it isn’t something you’ve done with any of your partners in the past.

Bucky lowers the zipper. He pushes the band of his boxers down far enough to free his cock, and you whimper. He fists his arousal slowly. “You want it, then tell me what you want exactly. You’ve already let me use your body in so many ways, we both know you want more. What are you craving?”

You wait only another beat before answering, “Want you to fuck my throat.”

You are impressed at the evenness of your own tone in that moment, and his lips tick up as well.

Bucky widens his stance, then leans down to wrap his left arm around your head, holding it – almost cradling it – in the crook of his elbow. The he pushes his cock to your lips, you open for him, he pushes in, and starts truly fucking your mouth. The first few thrusts are slow, but insistent. He fills your mouth with more of him with each of those first thrusts. Then the head of his cock hits the back of your throat. He thrusts out and in again, again, again. His other hand strokes your cheek. Then he slaps it, and you groan around his cock.

“Mmmm, fuck you feel good,” he echoes your groan. “Gonna take all of your alpha’s cock down this pretty throat,” he says, and his hand moves down to your neck, feeling himself push in there.

Your eyes are tearing up, and the tears quickly start to spill over as he continues to use your throat, never removing himself completely now that he’s overtaken your mouth. He slaps your cheek twice in quick succession and you sob around his cock as you can manage. It’s hard to breathe, and your chest heaves. You brace yourself against his thighs, and he straightens and pulls out of you.

Bucky moves quickly, taking you by the shoulders and tossing you into the middle of the floor – rough but not violent.

“Clothes off,” he barks, but it’s he didn’t need to employ an alpha command to get you to comply. You barely have enough time to discard your pants and underwear the rest of the way, and only manage to get your shirt over your head in the time it takes him to get naked.

He’s on you the next instant, covering your body with his. With his chest pressed down against yours, you feel how his breathing is just as heavy as your own, glad he’s not as unaffected as he’s tried to play this encounter.

You hitch your thighs up around his torso and squeeze your knees around him.

But he doesn’t give you what you’re most anxious for yet, instead pausing to study your face.

“Such a pretty mess,” he admires.

Heat pulses through your body, his praise undeniable to your omega side.

He dips his head to lap up the salt of some of your tears, tongue dragging slowly up your cheek. When he draws back again, he merely looks at you. His eyes seem to be looking for something, but you don’t know what. You try not to give him anything outside of this moment.

His pelvis is lodged between your hips, so you squirm beneath him, hoping your hot, dripping cunt will call him back to your pressing needs. He groans and drops his forehead to yours, another sign he’s not as cool and detached as he was at the outset.

“Please, please fuck me, Alpha,” you beg.

“Fill you up with my cock? With my seed?”

“Yes, Alpha!”

He draws his hips back and you reach down and help line up his cock with your hole. He spears in with no mercy, and you don’t need or want it. You groan together as he fills you completely.

Your mouths meet again, and it’s a combination of rough messy kisses, nipping and bites, licking, mingled heavy breaths. It’s primal and unhinged, and there’s no thought to it as he continues to fuck you.

The pace at which he thrusts is relentless and just what you need, but also not enough.

You want more and you whimper and beg through kissing for it.

Bucky continues fucking you and pulls away from your lips, but in no way is he done overwhelming you. Leaning heavily onto his vibranium arm planted next to your head, he moves his other arm and presses his inner wrist up and down your neck insistently. The sound that escapes your mouth is broken and needy as the flooding of his scent directly In and around you engulfs your senses. Then he’s also sucking on your original bonding mark until you are a heaving, panting, crying mess, clawing at his back, unable to even put coherent words together to beg for him.

His shifts just enough that his pubic bone grinds down against your clit as he pounds into your pussy. You are practically vibrating with the impending orgasm, and as your alpha can undoubtedly sense that through the bond, he bites down on your mark, and you scream and fly into your release. Your walls clench hard around him, and he growls through two more powerful thrusts before he shouts, and you feel the heat of his seed star to fill you up. He pumps and pumps until he’s left every drop he can inside of you, then collapses on top of you.

He doesn’t move, pressing you down with all his weight as you both recover from the ecstasy you’ve just experienced. You almost move to stroke your fingers up and down his spine, but you quell that impulse. You do allow yourself to keep your hands on his back though – still, but connected to this man, your alpha, who dealt you such rough but undeniable pleasure.

Finally, Bucky pushes up off you, but surprises you when he scoops you up and carries you away bridal style, heading toward your bedroom.

“Alpha?”

“You really want to live under the same roof?” he asks.

“Yes,” you answer simply.

He glances down at your face, brows furrowed, then looks back ahead as he heads down the hallway.

“Okay then.”

“Yes?”

“Yes,” he affirms, entering your room.

He tosses you onto the bed, and crawls up over you again. He reaches beneath your back to unclasp your bra, and you let him pull it from your shoulders and toss it off to the side. Closing the gap between your bodies, you relish the feeling of his bare chest against yours, his chest hair teasing your nipples. He grips your chin yet again, this time with his vibranium hand, and looks into your eyes with a steely, cold stare.

“If you’re anything other than the good omega I require, I will send you back here, but it won’t be like this last week has been. You will be in absolute exile. Don’t test me – there will be no chances.”

You give a single nod of your head.

He pushes up and leans back then, kneeling above you.

“But you don’t want to jeopardize or risk that, do you?”

“No, Bucky.”

It’s the first time you’ve called him anything other than alpha and he clocks that, you see the flash of acknowledgement in his eyes.

“You want to be with your alpha, you want the limited freedom you know I can give you if I choose to, but you also have your own agenda”

It wasn’t a question, and you know you can’t fool him – you know he is too smart for that, and you know he knows you are intelligent in your own right. He made it clear when he closed in on your people’s territory that’s why your compliance and claiming you as his omega was part of the deal of surrender to spare any more bloodshed.

“Cross me and your future will only be visitations when I require you to service my ruts.”

You don’t doubt his threat.

“Do we have an accord, Omega?”

“Yes, Alpha.”

The words you two exchanged the fateful night of that initial surrender.

He nods.

“It seems fitting to seal it by kiss.”

You sit up and then kneel before him on the bed, he bends his head down to kiss you. It’s fervent, solemn, but he cuts it off before it develops into anything more.

“Stay here,” he orders, sliding off the bed.

That was an alpha command – wholly unnecessary except to remind you of his power.

You scowl at his retreating form, then huff once he’s out of the room.

He’s quick, and when he comes back in the room, he is slowly stroking his cock with one hand, and holds his phone in the other. He steps up to the edge of the bed.

“A kiss here, as well,” he says, pushing his hips forward.

You crawl to him, lower your head, and kiss his cock. He nods at you, indicating he expects more. You take the tip of his semi-hard cock into your mouth, lave your tongue around the tip, and then suck, looking up at him. He takes a few photos, moaning at your ministrations.

“Fuck you couldn’t look more pretty and more ruined,” he whispers. He tosses the phone down, then pushes you off him and back onto the bed, manhandling your hips to get you planted in the center of the mattress with your thighs splayed open obscenely.

“Only fair for me to finish sealing the agreement and kiss these lips as well.”

He dives in like a man starved, despite the rounds you’ve just finished. He pulls your next orgasm quickly from your fluttering pussy. You would be surprised, only you’ve come to accept that he has already acquired a dangerous – and delicious – knowledge of your body.

He looks up at you and grins and then goes in immediately for another.

You try and push him away and close your legs, feeling overstimulated, but he growls and roughly forces your thighs open again.

“Your one chance of being my good omega is already begun. So, you’re going to let me eat the pussy that belongs to me until you’re a sobbing overstimulated mess and think you can’t possibly take any more, but you will. And since this should be the last night we ever spend in this bed, when I’ve had my fill of lapping at your sweet, dripping cunt, I’m going to see if I can’t fuck you hard and long enough to break the bed.”

You can only hope your gamble to deal with the devil of HYDRA will not be your undoing.

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest full Fine Line Collection

Everyone check your pulse, please. Mine is gone.

I'm not saying this is officially a series, but I think we HAVE fallen into a collection territory... Unless y'all are through with this Alpha Bucky...

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #alpha bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfic #female reader #aspen wrote something #fine line collection

660 notes · View notes

talaok · 2 years

Text

A small bed

Pairing: Xavier Thorpe x Fem!reader Summary: During a cold night at Nevermore, you seek shelter in your friend's, Xavier, room, but as it turns out, sleeping on a single bed in two, is not as easy as it sounds. Warnings: SMUT (protected sex and oral sex- female receiving-) a/n: Let's play a game. Guess who's depressed and has done nothing other than "write" and watch Wednesday for the past few days? Please find the answer in the following text.

It was so cold in the room. Those stupid wooden thin walls never actually isolated the building from the cold. Funny how the headmaster seemed to have money to donate to the Mayor's campaign but none to invest in the infrastructure she herself was managing. The bedroom was way too large and the ceiling way too high for the mere thermostat to be enough to fight the cruel Jericho's cold. You could hear Edvin's low snoring coming from the opposite side of the room. You wondered how she did it, how she could fall asleep with this temperature. Maybe it had something to do with her nature, and if that was it, you wished for a moment to have been born a werewolf too. Able at least to close your eyes without the fear you'll freeze to death in your sleep keep you from doing so. you sighed. there was no way you were gonna do it. The alarm on the nightstand indicated the time. 3:46, plastered in red lightning, the only thing illuminating the room besides the sheer light coming from outside, the moon still emanating her immortal glow through the branches. The howling of the wind seemed almost sinister, as it infiltrated from the window. You gripped the blanket and wrapped it around yourself, sitting up on the bed. There had to be something you could do right? You intently thought about it, as the cold spread itself all over your body. They were no more blankets, so that was a no. there was hot tea in the kitchen, but that meant stepping outside, where the cause of your suffering had originated, not to mention you were still going to have to come back to this infernal room after, so that was another no. the gears in your brain were desperately operating, trying hard to find a solution, but it seemed the temperature had compromised also them, not just your body, which was now trembling, as the only one they could find was the first one you had thought of, but had deliberately discarded. It's not like it was a bad idea, he would have said yes, you knew. there was just something about it that didn't convince you, a feeling or, better even, a presentiment, that made you doubtful on whether it was a good idea either. But you didn't have time to think about it as you slipped through the door, glancing one last time, at that shadow-filled space.

The sound resonated through the whole corridor as your knuckles met the door's hardwood. Silence filled it just moments after. It's not like you were expecting a prompt reply, or one at all for that matter. Light footsteps echoed in your ears just before the doorknob turned. "Y/n?" Xavier whispered, his voice still hoarse and full of sleep. "I know, I'm sorry. can I come in?" He frowned, visibly confused "Uhh, sure" "Thanks" you immediately sneaked in. He closed the door and leaned on it, still incredibly perplexed. "Did-did something happen?" "No, nothing like that" You smiled "I just-" you bit your lip nervously as you looked up at him "I can't sleep in my room. It's too cold." "Oh" he exhaled relieved, calming you with him. "I didn't know where else to go. I'm sorry. I can go if you want" you said, realizing just now how crazy you must look. Showing up to his room at 4 in the morning trembling and without shoes on. "shit you're freezing" he noticed, immediately taking his bed's blanket and walking up to you. He was silent as he gently wrapped it around you, his hands remaining on your arms once you had gripped it. "Thanks" "don't worry." he shook his head. A sincere expression spread over his face, and you let yourself stare at it, loving the way he was doing the same. "so, can I stay here?" you asked again "Of course" he said, looking offended by the fact you even had to ask. He glanced at his bed, an eyebrow-raising itself "There's only one thing" he offered you an apologetic smile "There's only one bed. Rowan's old one doesn't have any blankets". You looked around. He was right. Only the single bed surrounded by drawing-filled walls seemed to be suitable to sleep in. Especially today. You laughed softly. It wasn't funny, well maybe just a bit, but most of all it was ironic. you had come here for shelter and the only one you had found was a very thin mattress you now had to share with someone else. You wouldn't have accepted if it wasn't for the fact that there was no other option. You definitely weren't going back to the hellhole you had just escaped from. "I think we can fit" "you sure?" "Well, we at least have to try" you said "If I go back to my room there's a 90 % chance that I'll die of hypothermia" "and we wouldn't want that" he chuckled, his thumbs stroking your arms through the cover. "no" you smiled "we definitely wouldn't". You liked looking at him, the moon illuminating only the left side of him, lightening his long amber hair to champagne ones. "all right then" he let his arms fall to his sides before indicating the way "Ladies first" "Why thank you, kind sir" you grinned as you went to the bed, laying down on it. It smelled of him. His scent was soaked in the sheets and in the pillow and you immersed yourself in it as you closed your eyes. You liked it. More than you should have, probably. "comfortable?" he asked, and you nodded sleepily as your eyes stayed shut. He laughed softly at how cute you looked, peacefully sleeping in his bed, and a weird feeling invaded his chest. He didn't pay attention to it as he walked towards you. You felt the bed creek and move as he climbed on it, laying just beside you. You hadn't really understood how small the bed was when you had looked at it before, but as you laid here, your two bodies glued together, you realized just how wrong your estimate had been. Silence filled the room again as he set the cover on you both. You were still shuddering, it seemed like the cold had made its way into you and had now little to no intention of ever leaving you. "You're still cold" he whispered, his hand finding your arm again, just to caress it kindly. His touch felt like fire on your frozen skin. You opened your eyes, finding his already on yours. You swallowed nervously at how close you were, a few inches was all that separated you. If you hadn't been best of friends this would have looked romantic, you thought. But you were, so there was nothing to think about. "mh-mh" you nodded. "can I-" he murmured as he turned to lay on his side "I can hug you" he bit his lip "if that's ok" "Y-yeah sure. I'd like that" you said shyly and he smiled "ok" He scooted closer to you and you turned to your side, just like he had, facing the wall. You admired the extremely detailed spider on the drawing in front of you as he put one of his arms around you, tightly holding onto your chest, pushing you against his, and the other under your head. His body was flat against yours, from head to toe following your body's position. You could feel every inch of his body, his hair brushing against your neck where his breath was giving you goosebumps, his chest moving up and down against your back, and his knees on the back of your legs. He was warm, and as much as you were grateful for the cold beginning to leave your body, you weren't thinking about it anymore. What you were thinking about, was his hand on your stomach, and your ass-well- your ass dangerously close to his crotch. You gulped, if you had been on the verge of falling asleep before, you doubted you were ever gonna do it now. You kept staring at the drawing as you let yourself melt into his touch, so gentle and yet so reassuring. It felt nice. More than nice actually. Your neck was starting to hurt and you readjusted yourself to get more comfortable, inadvertently moving closer to him, and well, grinding against his lap. A small groan, clearly not intended for you to be heard, left his throat. "sorry" you whispered, faintly "don't worry" his hoarse voice traveled to your ears, as he tightened his hug. Shit. There was a weight on your chest and a familiar feeling in your belly, and you preyed that you would have fallen asleep soon, zeroing out all the possible mistakes that you were afraid you couldn't stop yourself from making, and that right now were all you wanted to do. All the thoughts passing from your head were things you knew you would have regretted later, like what would have happened if you ground again against his crotch, or if you turned and leaned just a few inches over, meeting his lips with yours. They were all potential, doable possibilities, that you could have explored in a matter of seconds, but you couldn't, you shouldn't. You were just tired, that was it. Xavier was your friend, and friends don't kiss each other, even if they really really want to. "Y/n?" a soft whisper in your ear. "Hm" you hummed "are you sleeping?" You turned your neck around, now really inches from his face, from his nose, eyes, and stupidly pretty mouth. "no" you answered There was a moment of silence, as he inspected your whole face, his eyes traveling from your eyes to your mouth and then up again. You felt butterflies in your stomach. You had never understood that expression, but now, all of the sudden, it seemed to make a lot of sense. "are you feeling better?" "yes, thank you" He moved his hand from your belly and brought it up to your face "good" he murmured, as he stroked your cheek. You felt your cheeks turn a brighter shade of pink. "I-" your voice died in your throat, as you forgot what you wanted to say. "You're very pretty you know?" he kept caressing your face "I don't think I've ever told you before" he smiled "but you really are" shit. He was making it really hard not to want to explore the possibilities. "I- thank you" you murmured. He looked at you, seriously now, penetrating and studying you, like he was really seeing you for the first time. "Y/n" he murmured, his eyes blinking slowly. "Xavier" you whispered too, before he slowly leaned over, indecisively getting closer and closer to your lips. you looked at him as he reached them, pressing his mouth on yours, in a chaste kiss. you barely reciprocated, still shocked this was actually happening. He leaned away, his eyes moving between your mouth and your eyes, desperately trying to understand what you were thinking, while also desperately wanting to kiss you again, this time, like he really wanted to. You looked at him, his beautiful eyes always so confident, now looked so hesitant. It was a weird image, a new one. You smiled subtly as you leaned over and pressed your lips with his, this time better, harder and more passionately as his hand on your cheek traveled to your hair. He stroked your hair as he kissed you lovingly, his warm mouth on yours, as you both closed your eyes. It felt like floating, like flying on cotton candy clouds. You had never felt something like this. he smiled as he leaned away, and you couldn't help but do the same. "you're a good kisser" he murmured" better than I expected actually" you gasped, pretending to be mad " you expected me to be bad? " you asked, realizing just at that moment something "and what do you mean by expected?" "well" he moved a lock of your hair behind your ear "let's just say there have been times when I wondered about this" "have there?" you grinned "yes" he kissed you again quickly "there have been" " Good to know" you bit your lip "and by the way, you're a good kisser too" "Oh I know" he chuckled, retracting his hand from under your head to place it on your shoulder, his fingers trailing on it. "I'm good at a lot of things" he looked at you. A fire burned in his eyes. Your mouth opened slightly in surprise, and he kissed it uncaringly. His tongue infiltrated your lips as he forced your head together with his hand. You could taste him in your mouth, Xavier, all of him. from his toothpaste to the tip of the pencil he bit constantly. It was all there. "And do you want to show me those things you're so good at?" you said, surprising even yourself "pleeeease" he begged, desperation clear in his voice as he gripped your head one more time, kissing you hard and messily as he pushed you to lay down on the bed. He didn't waste any time as he got on top of you, peppering kisses all over your face, while his hands explored every inch of your body, leaving a trail of shivers with his touch. You whimpered as one of his hands found your breasts "We can stop if you want" "no. please no" He smiled "thank god" he lifted your shirt and sweater "I was just getting to the good part," he said, as he lifted it over your head with your help and shamelessly stared at your bare tits " fuck you're hot" he said bending down to spread kisses all over them while groping and caressing them hungrily. "so" he started kissing down your belly "fucking" he trailed down under the covers "hot" he said, kissing your fully clothed pubis. You moaned softly at the hint of a touch he just gave you. You were desperate "please" as I said, desperate "patience my dear" he whispered sarcastically, as he hooked the hem of your pants under his fingers, toying with it. You whined softly "a virtue you clearly don't possess" he chuckled under his breath as he slowly took your pants off, finally freeing you. he bent down immediately between your thighs, looking up at you smugly. You met his gaze and bit your lip. This was crazy. You were friends and had been such for so long, and apparently, all it took was a very cold night and a much too small bed to make you forget about it, and for him to end up between your legs. Fuck, he looked pretty that way. He brought you back to reality as he bent down and kissed your clit, still looking at you. You moaned softly, and then he did it again, this time for longer, and your moan became louder and kept doing so until he was sucking your clit and you were screaming his name, your hands gripping his hair and the sheets mindlessly. Lost in the pleasure he was provoking you He was looking at you mesmerized as you threw your neck back, your eyes shutting close and your mouth open, those filthy sounds coming out of it. Xavier thought he had never heard something so beautiful in his life. "you taste so good y/n" he said, his words vibrating against your cunt, as his fingers came up to your pussy, slowly moving towards the entrance. You cried out as they entered you, Xavier pumping them in and out relentlessly. A very dirty sound echoed through the room as he kept doing that, not even your voice able to cover it, as he went back to sucking and licking all he could find. "xavier" you mumbled "s-shit" you tried to speak, but the pressure forming in your belly distracted you "I-I'm coming" you finally spat out, and he smiled against your cunt "then cum y/n, come all over me" he stopped just to resume again, even harsher than before. You felt a knot in your stomach and as he scissored his fingers inside of you again, hitting your g-spot perfectly, it broke down. Making you come undone, loudly moaning his name as you came down from your high. "shit" you sighed incredulously, as he came back up to your face, pressing his lips with yours once again, letting you taste yourself in his mouth. "you weren't joking when you said you were good" you giggled, and he smirked "I'm a man of my word" his hand found your side again "now" he looked at you "let me show you my full potential" he said, making you laugh giddily, exited for what was about to come. His hands left you momentarily as he took off his shirt and just moments after, his pants. You had never seen anyone undress that quickly. He leaned over you to reach into one of his nightstand's drawers, his hand reappearing with a tinfoil package between his fingers, the same ones that were inside of you moments before. You squeezed your thighs shut, just at the thought He looked down at your legs and smiled knowingly, as he slid the condom on his cock. You weren't nervous. It was weird, usually, you were always nervous at moment like this but you felt safe, and more than a bit turned on. "you're gonna have to open your legs y/n" he raised an eyebrow, and you tilted your head to the side, biting down a smile "and what if I don't?" he bent down over you "then I'm gonna have to open them for you" he ghosted your lips. you swallowed thickly. Fucking shitty shit. Hot. That was hot. You spread your legs and he smirked smugly " so obedient" he joked and you rolled your eyes. "look at me" he commanded as he positioned himself at your entrance "I want you to look at me when I'm inside you" Your mouth slaked open but you still nodded "use your words" "ok" you answered finally, and he looked at you proudly before slowly pushing himself into you. A series of stroked and interrupted moans escaped your mouth as he bottomed out, filling you up completely. You were doing as he requested, looking at him intently as your face contorted in all sorts of expressions. "you're perfect" he sighed faintly, as he placed his hand on your stomach, stroking it gently " so fucking perfect" he looked at you, making your heart miss a beat. his lips twitched up into a very thin smirk as he started moving in and out of you slowly, his veiny cock wrapped tightly around your walls. "feel so good " he groaned as he quickened his pace. One of your hands flew to his shoulder as you gripped it to bring him down to you. You wanted to feel him, all of him. And you did, as you hooked your arm beside his neck and reached up to kiss him desperately, leaving pointless little whines in his mouth as he kept thrusting into you. "shit Xavier" you cried out as he brought one of his hands down to circle your already overstimulated clit. "I know," he said without an ounce of real sorriness "just take it " he pecked your lips again "It'll be worth it" You were out of breath as you kept bouncing on his bed, your tits moving with you. his movements were fast and you were feeling so many things at once that you weren't sure you knew exactly where you were at the moment. The same knot from before was starting to form itself again. "you're coming" he said, through his panting, anticipating you. Some of his hair were stuck to his forehead, and his mouth was open, gasping for air in between his sporadical groans of pleasure. "mh-mh" you nodded desperately, your hips moving with his to get even more friction. "come baby" he murmured, the pet name echoing through your ears, and traveling straight down to your cunt "come for me" "oh god xavier" you had the time to murmur before a wave of pleasure overwhelmed you, a series of little fireworks exploding inside you as he kept moving, chasing his own orgasm while letting you ride yours out. "fuck" he growled as his thrusts got more sloppy "you feel- so f-fucking good" he groaned, before with one final push, he came, a series of profanities leaving his mouth before he collapsed on top of you, his head resting on your shoulder. You smiled as you realized what had just happened, and when he raised his head, you could see he was doing the same. "I think the bed was too small" you grinned "What makes you say that?" he laughed

#xavier thorpe #xavier thorpe smut #xavier thorpe fancfiction #xavier thorpe x reader #xavier thorpe x y/n #xavier thorpe fic #xavier thorpe wednesday #wednesday #smut #fluff #friends to lovers #xavier smut #xavier

9K notes · View notes

wh1msic4lwasab1 · 3 months

Text

𝐎𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐝 ✮⋆˙

synopsis: Your secretary Alhaitham and you have a tension full relationship, but he finally snaps after some miscommunication- or lack thereof!

tags: angst for like 1 second, explicit, cunnalingus, office setting, penetration, vulgar

wrd cnt: 1.9k

a/n: repost/rewrite from first acc!

As the CEO of a thriving business, you were known for your sharp wit and unmatched determination. Alhaitham, your steadfast secretary, had always admired you from a distance, his heart secretly harboring a deep affection for you. The dynamic between you two was a blend of professionalism and underlying emotion, a sentiment you both tried your best to hide. It was more than him getting you coffee each morning, more than the soft shoulder massages he’d give you at the end of the day, more than the glances you’d exchange at each meeting.

One evening, you find yourself mindless scrolling down a dating site. Half of you bored, half a little curious. You leave your computer on and exit your office on a lunch break.

Unfortunately for you...your secretary came in to deliver your papers and set them on your desk, glancing at the screen.

You hear the door open to the break room, Alhaitham entering.

"Ms. Y/n, would you like me to schedule anything for you this evening? Or are you doing something personal..." He asks, catching you off guard as it's not usual for him to pry like this.

"No it's fine, I do have something later tonight. Thank you though!" You reply. Watching Alhaithams eyes dim.

The night of the blind date arrived, you got ready with a mix of excitement and apprehension. You chose a stunning outfit and hoped the evening would be a pleasant distraction from all your stressors at work. However, as the night progressed, you realized your heart wasn't in it.

You find yourself subconsciously comparing your date to Alhaitham, his genuine care, and the way he always seemed to know what you always needed. He's always there, fixing things up, making your life so easy and balanced. He knew how to make you happy.

During a lull in the conversation, your date asked if everything was okay. You hesitated before admitting that your mind was elsewhere.

Unbeknownst to you, Alhaitham had decided to swing by the same restaurant after his work hours. It was one of his favorites and one he made you familiar with too, hence why you even decided to pick it for your date.

He had been feeling restless all evening, and a strange intuition led him there. And of course he saw you and your date, talking and spending an evening dinner together.

His heart raced, and he couldn't ignore the surge of emotion. He sat at the other end of the room for about 10 minutes; before getting up and leaving.

You stood up, your body reacting without your minds permission. You followed after him for 20 minutes. Your poor date left in confusion, but it didn't matter.

After not much longer you find Alhaitham back at the office.

You park your car adjacent to his and enter the building, feeling your knees shake as you felt like you did something wrong. You two had always had a sort of...tension. Unspoken, undelved, and more complicated than you could explain.

You're going up the elevator, you know exactly where he could be. Your intuition speaks true.

"Alhaitham!...there you are." You say in a sigh, catching him in your office, organizing the filing cabinet as his light green eyes cut through the air separating you two in the room.

You walk closer to him, the night sky illuminated by the lights of the city, the moon shining through the big glass walls of your corner office.

"Is something the matter? There's no work left on your agenda for tomorrow....l checked." He remarks, pretending like nothing had happened.

"Meaning you have none either...why are you here Alhaitham? You just- left? You didn't even say Hi..." You mention.

His head quickly turns as if you’ve offended him.

"You...wanted me to come talk to you while you were on a date with your partner?"

"My partner? I just met that guy tonight...why would that be a problem anyways?" You say.

Alhaithams scoffs, visibly trying to articulate himself in the professional manner he’s tried so hard to maintain with you.

"It's just-it's not appropriate, is all, we have a professional relationship, right?"

"Well, I mean I consider you a friend, you don't think the same?"

Alhaitham slams the filing cabinet shut, truthfully startling you.

"Your friend? I am your secretary. I plan your meetings, I make your spreadsheets, I bring you coffee, I make sure you finish your agenda, and I take care of all your needs."

"Then why are you acting like this...?" You say in a lighthearted tone, laughing smally. "What do you not approve of my date or something?" You laugh as you get closer to him, a little too close to call friendly.

You let that comment slip out of your mouth, and quickly it's replaced with Alhaithams tongue.

Pinning you to the wall you once leaned on as you spoke, now moaning into his mouth.

He pulls away, his lips touching you as he speaks. "I take care of you. I should be the one you spend your evening with. Right here. In this officer." He mutters, before you pull him back into the kiss.

You can't help but melt right into him, his grip now released from wrists as your hands wrap around his head, his hands holding your waist and the side of your face.

"I didn't know you felt that way...should have said something sooner."

"Well I'm saying it now. You're my boss. Mine to take care of. Mine."

The kiss doesn't last long before things get heated, your secretary now kissing down your neck...unbuttoning your top as his lips trial down your body. He throws your clothes nicely on top the chair nearby, as he works his way down your waist, leaving a trial of evidence down your body.

His jade green eyes glisten in the moonlight, as he drags your panties down with his teeth.

"You can't know how long l've wanted to do this... y/n. How long l've admired you, watched you, I serve you completely." He says, as you feel his warm breathe around out cunt.

"Alhaitham... what are y-" You're cut off, feeling Alhaithams mouth split your lips open, his tongue grazing up your folds and circling your clit. You try to stay standing, holding yourself up with a hand on the cabinet, your other on top of his head. He looks up at you frequently, as he kneels below of you: licking your hole and pumping his fingers inside it. He sucks on every part of your cunt, tasting every inch like his salary depends on it.

The feeling of his hands running up your thighs, and his mouth sucking on your swollen clit, push you over the edge in no time. The vibrations of Alhaithams moans send themselves into your cunt, forcing you to cum; all, over, his face.

You writher and squirm while your knees shake.

Feeling his large tongue lick every drop of cum that spills out of you. Wiping the corners of his mouth with his fingers and sucking it off, savoring you.

He comes back up and kisses you, making you taste yourself.

You kiss him deeply, wanting his tongue. You're both pulling at each other, pushing your bodies closer as you moan into each others mouths against the wall.

"Alhaitham...give me more." You say softly into his ear, as your hands rub his erecting through this pants. Your hand reacted faster than your mind, you couldn't believe this is what you and your secretary were doing right now, but you don't want to stop now.

"Y/n...let me, this is about you." He says, quickly lifting you up with his hands under your thighs, turning you around and dropping you softy on the wooden desk behind you two. Your desk.

He slowly undressed you, leaving you bare infront of him. You lift up your leg and prop it on the corner of the desk, you make him watch as you spread open your lips with two fingers, playing with your pussy while he undressed. "This is what you wanted huh? What a naught secretary."

His face got even more red, before he kissed you again. "You're what I want." He quickly says, before his mouth is latched onto your hard nipple, as the other gets rubbed and pinched by his hand.

"Keep playing with yourself, it's so fucking hot." He snared, biting and sucking your chest, softy enough to make it painless but feel so fucking good.

As Alhaitham works on your tits, his cock springs out of his last piece of clothing.

Leaving so much saliva and hickies on and around your puffy nipples, you're eyes meet with his cock. A slightly dark tan, with the prettiest shaft and a throbbing red tip; just waiting to fuck you.

"Please boss...tell me you'll have me. Let me take care of you."

"Then do it, it's your job, right?" You smirk, before you softy hiss at how good his cock felt gliding all over your folds, he slapped his tip on your clit and rubbed them together.

"God I can't wait..." He says, he grabs onto your hips, as you sit on the desk.

You look down at his cock while it starts to disappear into your sopping wet pussy. Each inch making you gasp and squirm.

"Fuck...Alhaitham, it's not going to all fit..." You hear him grunt, before slamming it all into you. "It has to...it all has to fit y/n, I need you to feel it." He says, as your mouth can't keep in any of the sounds it's making.

His thrusts are slow and calculated, his thumb rubs your sore, engorged clit, while his cock is feeling your walls.

You can't help but fall back as his thrusts get more desperate, shaking you along with the table; which you now lay on, your tits bouncing up and down with it.

"Tell me y/n, will you remember me every time you sit here? Will you remember my cock fucking your tight little hole, like this?" He says harshly, needing you to need him.

You can't even reply, as the only thing coming out of your mouth is his name as you clench around his thick cock.

His body drops down towards you, his arms holding himself up which now lay on both sides of your face, feeling his hair on your forehead.

He's grunting and moaning right into your hear, turning you on even more while his hard cock doesn't stop rutting into you.

"Y/n...fuck, please forgive me...I can't stop boss."

You continue to gasp at the feeling of his cock even more close to you now, as his lips find your neck once again and create more areas for you to hide the next morning.

"Y-Y/n... i'm so fucking close...l don't think I can-"

Alhaithams words find no finish, but he does; you can feel warm ropes of thick cum coat your walls.

You've already came on his cock so many times, but you finish again from the feeling of his release inside you. His breathe is heavy on your neck, his knees buck a few times while his cock still stuffs you, cum oozing out onto the table and the floor all the while.

The night ends with him licking all the cum off you, gently and so lovingly. Dressing you, kissing you softly as he fixes up your desk. Telling you how he's always yours, always there, always the one who will take care of you. Only him.

whimsic4alwasab1 ™ - do not copy, translate, modify, or claim any of my work as your own.

#jo’s posts #genshin smut #alhaitham scenarios #al haithem #al haitham smut #alhaitham genshin #alhaitham smut #alhaitham #al haitam x reader

706 notes · View notes

monarchberrysblog · 3 months

Note

hello there! 21, but going on anon. could i request a pregnant reader who is feeling incredibly insecure about her body. after an instance where a woman openly flirts and asks miguel out in front of her, she breaks down crying. miguel reassures her and they start having the craziest, wildest, hottest sex imaginable

GROWING PAINS

✭ 🔞 Miguel O’Hara x Fem! Reader ✭

✭ summary: pregnancy is a challenge, not for the morning sickness or having the urge to pee every other step but for the outside challenges that create tension.

✭ content warning: mentions of morning sickness (if you have emetophobia, skip the first five paragraphs), degenerate home-wrecker, comfort, pregnancy sex, and p-in-v penetration.

✭ word count: +2.1k words

✭ (a/n): let me get a crack at it 😋 I had fun working on this 💜🪻 (if there are errors I missed, please let me know!)

MATURE CONTENT MDNI | MINORS WHO INTERACT WILL BE BLOCKED

The nausea of the day came in like waves during a full moon at the beach. The smell of toilet water and bleach greeted your nose while kneeling in front of the toilet before you. Dry heaving became a regular habit as the smell of toilet water didn’t contribute to the nauseating sensation.

“Are we okay, cariño?” His voice sent chills down your spine as you rested your head on the toilet seat. “No…” You whined, sounding like a child who had their toy taken away. “C’mon, don't rest your head right there…” Miguel cooes to you.

A low groan escapes your throat as you wait in anticipation to throw up, already wanting the feeling to pass by. “Do you want some tea? It'll help with the morning sickness.” He suggests to you before kneeling next to you and rubbing your lower back slowly.

“Yeah…” You groaned out before your body lurched another heave out of you.

“It’s okay…” He whispers quietly and holds your hair back. “Let it out if you need to.” He blows air to your face, cooling you down from the warm sensation you feel all over your body. But the salvation in your mouth still lingered.

“Thanks…”

“Miguel!” You called out to him from the bathroom, looking down at your swelling belly. “Yes, cariño?” He steps into view, returning from his morning workout. A soft kiss on the forehead gives you small butterflies in your stomach before you remember why you called him in.

“Can you please get more coconut butter at the store? I need some more for the stretch marks.” You raised (his) your hoodie to reveal the glistening stretch marks and slightly swelling belly.

“Hmm, did we run out already?” He makes his way over before he ruffles your hair and looks through the medicine cabinet. “Could have sworn we had some.” He mumbles before his palm rests on your belly, allowing his thumb to caress the marks.

“No, we ran out.” You add, getting on your tiptoes to peek at the medicine cabinet for the umpteenth time.

He nods after his eyes mindlessly scan the pill bottles, toiletries, and some of your make-up items. He clicks his tongue and moves his palm away from your belly. “Yeah, I'll get you some more, cariño. Let me jump in the shower first and then go to the store. I don't need to smell like sweat.”

The comment made you pout. The post-workout smell always lured you in, like catnip. You could cling near him and bask in his smell if you wanted to.

“Do you want to join me?” You nod eagerly, taking off the hoodie and tossing it at him.

“Do you want to go to the bathroom, sweetheart?” This is the same umpteenth question he asked you while you walked around your local mall down. “No, I'm fine.” He lightly squeezes your hand and gives you the look. The “you better go” look, as Miguel always fell victim to making frequent stops in gas stations or stores to satisfy your bladder whenever the two of you drove around.

“Just go, baby…” Miguel sighs, patting your lower back before he playfully spanks your rear.

You huff before you shuffle into the public restroom while resting your hand on your swelling tummy.

The sight was always amusing for Miguel; it was adorable—the sundress, the comfy sandals, and your hair neatly done. But the adorable sight was interrupted almost immediately. Two hands grasp his arm with such a grip that it can make anyone’s muscle ache from under the skin, even enough to bruise the muscle. Miguel shrugs it off and looks over to the source. “Aren’t you handsome?” The voice coaxed him before her hands squeezed his bicep. He shrugs his arm away and looks over to the bathrooms instead.

“I’m married.” Miguel’s statement lingered in the air before she looked at his arm and took in the sight of him like he was a tall glass of water.

“So am I.” She giggles before she looks up at Miguel with doe eyes. The discomfort arose in his stomach as if he had had a terrible dinner waiting to be released.

“Where’s your husband then?” He questions, hearing the fear in his voice. He shrugs her hand away from his arm again and waits at the bathroom in anticipation for his little wife, you, to return. But the yapping woman continued to speak, not getting any social signals that Miguel wasn't interested.

“He’s at—” Her words cut off before her features go ghost white, enough to mistake her for a blank piece of printer paper waiting to be scribbled on with a permanent marker.

“Miguel.”

A smile of relief paints his features as he walks over to you and gently takes your hand. Your attention is on the woman, seeing her twirl her hair with her fingers. She only giggles and immediately stops when she sees your swelling belly underneath your sundress. “Oh honey, I bet you can't satisfy your husband while you look like you're about to pass out.” She continues to yap, not caring about the looks of disgust from other women around the area. “Cariño, let’s go.” Miguel urges, not comfortable with the woman now harassing you and, arguably, your unborn child.

“Married men are allowed to cheat on their pregnant wives…”

You open your mouth, only to get tugged away from her by your husband, who does not want you to make a scene in such a public environment.

“Not interested. I love my wife dearly.” He steps in, lightly tugging you away from the uncomfortable space.

But hearing the words wasn't enough. For the past few weeks, you've been down on the stoops. Despite being your second trimester, the morning sickness faded away but lingered like a bug—the stretch marks on your belly, the constant bathroom stops, and the aching feet.

The weight of a burden rested on your shoulders like you were carrying pails of water up a mountain with your heart. It pulled you down into the earth’s core.

“C’mon, baby…” He pleads once again, gently tugging you away from the degenerate woman.

The car ride back home from the mall felt like the most uncomfortable situation for Miguel. Sure, it wasn't his fault, but it damn well felt like it was when this woman threw herself at him, having no good intentions.

Despite him pushing her away with his words, she relented nonstop, picking and picking at Miguel like a vet ticking fleas away from a stray cat.

He glanced at you, but you turned away from him while sitting on the passenger side, looking only at the window. He occasionally squeezed your thigh while trying to engage in a conversation. But it always ended immediately with your simple one-word answers.

Your portions were smaller during dinner. A small scoopful of your dinner was ‘enough’ for you.

“Cariño,” His voice breaks the silence on the dining room table while you move a small broccoli around with your fork. “Is that all you’re going to eat?”

“Yeah, I’m okay with this.”

He frowns at the meek portions. This was your favorite dinner throughout your pregnancy. Now? You eat as if it were the thing you despised the most.

“Cariño, can we talk about what happened?”

“No, no, we don't.” You intervene, stopping his words.

He furrows his brows, and the subtle pout on his lips says that he isn't going to let this go. “…yes, we do.” He steps in, gently taking your hand in his.

“Cariño, honey.” His eyes soften, allowing his thumb to massage your knuckles in small circles.

“I am sorry—”

You shake your head, looking up from your plate. “No, don't apologize. It’s not even your fault.” You put his words to an end before you slide your hand away from his. “I feel…”

You sit back in your seat and put your hands up in defeat, feeling tears form. “I don't know.”

Nothing came to mind. Your brain was murky like muddy water on the side of the road. “I feel bloated and unappealing and pent up.” You expressed many words, but none nailed the coffin of feelings that were forming in your heart. His palm finds its way to your cheek and lovingly cups it while wiping away your tears.

“Hey,” His mellow tone greets you but doesn't fully envelope you. “Please, cariño. Take a moment to breath.”

“I don't know,” You sniffle a bit before looking at your swelling belly. “I don't like being unappealing.” The words finally found on your lips, spilling out like word vomit.

“No, baby. Look at you. You are beautiful.” He places his hand on your belly, slowly moving the sundress around with his touch. “You are carrying our baby, our beautiful baby. You've been nothing but glowing. You are glowing to the point where you light up a room. You make rooms look good. A room where our family will grow, all thanks to you.”

You laughed through your tears, hearing his ramble. But the simile managed to put the tears to an end. “You make spaces look good, feel good.” He slowly helps you from your seat, easing you to your feet. He stands behind you, bringing you close to his chest. His hands slowly move, soon placing them on the bottom of your swelling belly, lifting the belly upwards, easing your lower back.

You stagger back in relief, resting back on him. “There we go.” He whispers, seeing your brows relax and your eyes close blissfully. “But I think that woman is right. You look exhausted.”

You hum to his statement, caving in to his warmth and touch. “Yeah,” You exhale. “I am exhausted.”

“Do you want me to take care of you?”

“…please.”

"Let me know if it's too much, cariño." He whispers, slowly laying you down on your shared bed. Your back decompressed against the mattress, earning a sigh of relief from you. "It's never too much." Your reassuring smile puts him at ease in his lower stomach. "Just let me know, please." He still pleads, taking off his sweatshirt and disregarding it to some odd corner of the room. "Let's lift this..." His hands work their way to the hem of the dress, lifting the skirt up.

"Lay on your side for me, nena." He demands, slowly helping you lay down and surrounding your belly with toss pillows.

The sound of his zipper filled the space, causing you to look over your shoulder and see Miguel immediately taking off his pants and boxers. His hands pull at your underwear, revealing your core, waiting for him and him only. The sound of the bed settling down increased the anticipation, feeling him bring you close to his chest before his hand fondles your breast ever so gently. "Take a deep breath-"

"Just put it in, Miguel."

Your demands come true as you feel the same familiar stretch at your core, earning a low moan from the both of you. "There we go." He groans, grinding his bulbous tip against your cervix.

"Harder, Miguel." You plead to him, feeling the soft grinding and his length rubbing against your puffy clit. "I don't want to hurt you or the baby." He whispers, keeping the soft motions.

"You won't hurt me or the baby. I promise.” You sigh and only push your rear to his hip. “I can handle it.”

That sentence is enough for Miguel to cave in and come to his desires. “Oh my god…” You sigh, pushing down onto his length. The slow strokes savored your gummy walls as if you were the main dish at a fine cuisine. “Look at you, so pretty.”

The slow strokes slowly became harsh and rapid. Gushing and slapping filled the space as you felt your nails claw at the bedsheets. “You like that, huh?” He breaths out before he lets go of your breasts and holds onto your hip instead. The single twitch on his cock sends you into a chokehold, leaving you clawing for more.

“Yes, keep doing that.”

A small smirk forms on Miguel’s lips before he keeps the same tempo before he slows down. “Oh, this?” He picks up the pace, similar to before, but with heavy thrusts.

“Yes, that,” You breathe, crashing your hips against his.

“Only for you, cariño.”

The rapid thrusts are enough to sway the bed from side to side, allowing the bed to creak with every motion. Soft pants from your lips escaped before you took Miguel’s hand. “Are you doing well, cariño?” You drunkenly nod before raising your leg and feeling his hand grasp onto your knee, allowing easier access and movement.

“I’m close, Migs.” You buried your face onto a decorative pillow, muffling the moan that slowly evolved into a soft cry of pleasure.

“Together, cariño. Together.” He groans, keeping the same delicious friction. The sensation of his length against your puffy clit creates mouth-watering friction, enough for you to move in sync with his motions.

“It's so good…!” You babble over and over again, tears of ecstasy rolling down your cheeks. “We’re there, almost there.” He groans out before the two of you collapse onto each other. “Oh my god…” You whined out as Miguel’s rapid breath fans your skin. “You okay, mamás?” He gives you a forehead kiss before he slowly pulls out and only nuzzles close to your neck.

“I feel better than ever.”

1K notes · View notes

dwindlinghaze · 10 months

Text

endless empathy

(remus lupin x reader)

summary: post full moon remus who just wants to be with you

contents: short fic, fluff fluff idk more fluff lol :) established relationship, descriptions of kissing

　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

"how're you holding up moony? just a few more steps to the hospital wing and you'll be better," sirius said. remus' arms were over james and sirius' shoulders, each supporting their injured friend.

finally arriving at the hospital wing, which for him took so long. remus sighed as he rested his body against the mattress. it wasn't the comfiest but better than nothing. his chest was aching painfully, with new fresh scars from that night. no matter how many times he had transformed, he never got used to the unbearable pain of it all.

madam pomfrey patched him up, quickly shooing away the james, sirius, and peter out of sight.

"where's my girl?" the first thing remus thought right after he woke up is where you were. james and sirius were visiting remus just like any other full moons, but you weren't there... yet.

"she'll be here soon moony," sirius said, trying to crack an assuring smile. just then you walked in with his breakfast in a paper bag, eyes searching for your boyfriend. "long live, she's here."

"morning everyone, morning love," you bowed down to kiss his temple gently, making sure not to make any direct contact against his healing skin. it really hurts to smile when there are scars all over his face, but he couldn't help it.

"we should leave them to be," james said before dragging sirius away out the wing.

"feeling better?" you asked as you opened his breakfast. you've learned to cut them in smaller pieces to avoid remus' scars from opening again due to facial movements.

remus hummed as he reached for your hand. "much better." you fed him his usual breakfast as you tell him about your day and the little information about what you dreamt last night.

"sorry," he whispered, shame washed over him as he took in how pathetic he must look right now. pale, lost of blood, dry, cold.

"don't be sorry for anything," you cupped his face gently. "i love taking care of you rem. makes me happy by just spending time with you."

remus melted at your words as he shuffled to get closer to you. burying his face on your arm, kissing the skin softly.

madame pomfrey walked in and smiled at the two of you as she made her way with some healing potions in the tray she held. in the lady's eyes, you both were like a couple straight out from a book. one always seeks out for the other.

"i suppose he can return back to his dormitory, seeing he heals faster each time," the old woman said, more to you than to remus. "some potions just in case the gashes opened, 'tis all he needs."

remus visibly blushed, seeing you nodding at madam pomfrey. "i can help with that," you offered and she let you, handing the bottle of yellow liquid. she opted for you to use the pipette, adding a few drops before smearing it lightly across the cuts on his back.

"practicing for the old days?" the older woman said in a teasing tone yet very flat. she usually was stern and strict but seeing remus being taken care of by you softened her.

remus cheeks were tinted pink, lucky he was facing the other way. you chuckled in response, shaking your head at her remark.

after madam pomfrey left, you helped remus to put his sweater on, whispering sweet encouragements. you sat down beside him and circled an arm around his torso. he leaned into your touch, cheeks pressing against your neck.

"wanna go back to my dorm," remus mumbled, lifting his head up slowly to catch your eyes.

"of course, just hold on to me," you started to stand up, opening your arms for him to hold onto.

the walk was slow with you trying to help him up. gosh the amount of stairs hogwarts has is unbelievable. remus was strong enough to climb all of them so now he's on his bed, body flat against the mattress.

"lay beside me princess, please?" he asked, looking up at you with the most adoring eyes. he really wanted you to hold him. after a rough night at the shrieking shack, all he needed is the comfort of his love.

"of course," you replied, sliding down beside him as you cover both of your bodies beneath his warm blanket. he threw his arm over your body, face pressing against your chest.

"want cuddles," he mumbled. you always love it when remus gets all mushy and sickly adorable. he was always like this after a full moon and you could never complain. you want nothing more than to hold him and protect him from the nasty world.

moving to a better position, remus looked up at you, smiling before he pressed his lips against yours. it was a soft and sweet kiss, nothing hungry or heated. he badly wanted to feel you.

when you smiled in between his lips, he couldn't help but smile too, pressing harder this time.

"d'you want a back massage?" you asked softly when he groaned in the middle of the kiss, trying to get up to kiss you more.

"yes but i also want to kiss you," he pouted, dipping down to connect your lips again.

before he could though, you held his jaw, noses were already touching. "pick one love, can't do that at the same time," you spoke, in which he returned by a whine and nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck. he stayed there for a while, seemingly thinking about the decision.

"what about kissing and back rubs?" he said, lifting his head up again to look at you. his eyes held such softness and warmth, contrast to what he was just hours ago.

"sure can," you giggled. it is so hard to resist him. moving your hand around his back in a soft circular motion, remus sighed softly against your face, nuzzling further to your skin.

he pressed his cheeks against yours, smiling in pure bliss. then he moved away to capture your lips in his afterwards, moulding together perfectly.

your lips are the softest, he loves kissing them so much. the position you both were in made it possible for him to feel your heart beating against his. he can feel your heartbeats thumping. it makes him so happy- just by feeling the beat of your heart.

the sweet kiss you shared was now turning more into a soft make out session. him nibbling at your bottom lips as you both pulled away slightly to breathe.

you two have a brief eye contact, smiles slowly creeping up your cheeks. he looked down at your pink plumped lips, glistening perfectly for him to dive down again to continue on what he has left.

that whole day, you spent your time with remus laying above you, body pressed against the other comfortably. you didn't know how long you both made out but your lips were now in the brightest shade of pink.

#remus lupin x reader #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin x reader fluff #remus lupin fic

904 notes · View notes

siriuslovebot · 1 year

Text

˖ ࣪⭑˖ ࣪𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒚 𝒔𝒍𝒆𝒆𝒑 ➸ 𝒓𝒆𝒎𝒖𝒔 𝒍𝒖𝒑𝒊𝒏˖ ࣪⭑ ˖ ࣪

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 𝑨𝑵𝑶𝑵𝒀𝑴𝑶𝑼𝑺 𝑨𝑺𝑲𝑬𝑫: more remus x mouse please!!! i adore them!!

𝑾𝑨𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑵𝑮𝑺: mentions of insecurity, post full moon remus is a little snappy, the nickname 'mouse', insomnia, crying (this is all quite lighthearted i promise)

𝑺𝑼𝑴𝑴𝑨𝑹𝒀: after remus snaps at the reader one day, some insecurities in their relationship come up.

𝑨/𝑵: hi loves! after the massive outpouring of love i had on mouse, i received this request and knew i absolutely had to write more of remus & mouse. this is written in the same universe, so to speak, but can be read as a standalone if you like. this one isn't nearly as long as the last, but it's just a little something that i wanted to write. if you'd like to see more of this pairing, just let me know and i would be happy to oblige!! as far as the warnings go, there's no real angst or anything just some insecurity on the reader's part. if that bothers you then please skip this one! as always, i hope you enjoy!

𝑾𝑶𝑹𝑫 𝑪𝑶𝑼𝑵𝑻: 1.9k 𓂃♡₊⭑

·͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺

a slot of light slips through the curtains across the room, the faint moonlight shining directly over your eyes. a tiny huff leaves your lips as you flip the other way; sleep has escaped you for the past hour. you’d awoken, heart pounding, from a nightmare, and have been awake ever since. it’s a wonder you haven’t woken marlene or lily with your quiet grumbling and frustrated sighs.

you curl into your bed, entangling your body in the duvet as you stare at the wall of your dorm. your eyes trace the cracks in the stone, the dim light illuminating their details just enough to distract you. you attempt to count them, hoping maybe it will help lull you to sleep. after what feels like hours, you give up. another annoyed grunt leaves your lips as you flop onto your back to stare at the canopy above your bed.

the problem is: you’ve been suffering from this insomnia for the past week now. ever since the last full moon, you’ve been worried sick. of course you’re used to dealing with remus’s touchy moods around the full moon; you’ve seen how short he can get with other people, how he becomes quieter and more reserved, how he sleeps more than usual. still, he’d never been that way with you, even when he was clearly at the end of his rope mentally and emotionally.

earlier in the week, you’d been excited to share the lesson he missed that morning in care of magical creatures. professor kettleburn covered mokes, displaying their remarkable ability to shrink themselves to near invisibility. it wasn’t unusual for remus to ask you what he missed in class– so you thought it’d be fine to volunteer the information. unfortunately, it seemed he was still on edge after his latest transformation.

you’d taken a seat on the end of his bed, placing a hand on his leg. you greeted him softly, knowing how exhausted he usually felt. he laid there, arm covering his eyes, and said nothing. you took this as an opportunity to begin speaking. there was no response from him for a moment, before he moved his arm, blinking his bleary eyes as he barely sat up.

a sickly-looking expression occupied his features. his sleeve rose a bit and you noticed another fresh wound.

“can you please just… leave me alone?” he said, voice cold, before collapsing back onto the bed. he shook your hand away from his leg and curled into himself.

“are you okay, rem?”

“go. away.” his words were punctuated sharply, turning almost venomous. you flinched, your entire morale crumbling to dust beneath the weight of his words.

your stomach churned, and you cleared your throat. “o–okay,” you mumbled. you were out of his dorm in a flash, your feet carrying you as fast as possible downstairs.

“hey, y/n–” sirius tried to catch your sleeve, but you pushed past him, out of the portrait hole without a word. the tears were brimming already, your throat tightening as you made every effort to get as far away from everyone as possible. you hated how much it could upset you; remus was not mean, and you knew that. he would never hurt your feelings on purpose, and you knew better than to bother him when he wasn’t feeling well. still, it stung.

even worse, you weren’t brave enough to bring it up when he finally returned to classes as normal. as he sat down beside you at breakfast, you wondered if he even remembered it at all. he greeted you amicably and bumped his knee against yours as he settled into his seat. but he didn’t wrap his hand around yours like normal. he wasn’t leaning in to whisper his witty remarks while the others were distracted. remus is not an obviously affectionate man in the first place, but you have grown used to him showing his fondness for you in quiet ways. brushing your hair behind your ear, carrying your books to class, holding doors open for you.

now, moping in your bed, you feel even worse about everything. since that morning, you worried that you annoyed him to the point that he didn’t want you anymore. maybe he just preferred you as a friend. that idea hurt even more. blinking, you try to push the thought out of your head. alas, you are nothing if not an overthinker, and the pestering thought will not go away. your one remedy is exactly the person you don’t want to face.

you realise you are in a predicament; being so obstinate, you don’t want to scurry off to remus’s dorm and pour your heart out after feeling so slighted. on the other hand, you’re afraid that your newfound relationship could fizzle out right beneath your nose. you’ve always heard that communication is key, but revealing your anxieties to remus feels too vulnerable. almost foolish.

ultimately, you decide to choke down your pride. the floor is cold beneath your feet as you slip out of bed. you force your limbs to move across the room, tip-toeing to the door. you wince as a stirring noise comes from across the room, then the sound of marlene’s hoarse voice.

“y/n? y’okay?” her words are slurred with sleep, muffled by her pillow.

“fine, marls. go back to sleep.”

she does just that, her breathing falling back into its steady rhythm. you slip through the small gap in the door, padding downstairs as quietly as possible.

by the time your feet hit the stairs up to the boys dormitories, you’re starting to question your decision. it’s stupid, you think. there’s no way remus would snub you on purpose; surely he would just up and say it if he was no longer interested… right?

it takes every ounce of willpower in your body to force yourself up the stairs. you take them one at a time, breathing deeply to ease the growing anticipation. it’s a wonder no one can hear your pulse quickening, your shaky breaths. standing at the door, you stare at it for a second. you can turn around this second and pretend you were never there. but wouldn’t it only make things worse?

a second passes, and you raise your hand to knock. you stop yourself. it would be rude to knock at this hour; you’d wake all four of the boys slumbering peacefully inside. instead, you hope not to wake anyone as you gently push the door open, peering inside. four forms occupy their beds, their silhouettes rising and falling gently with each breath. the light from outside the window barely illuminates the room enough for you to creep around the mess on the floor. you grit your teeth as one of them mumbles in their sleep; your eyes find james’s form, rolling over lazily in bed. he’s still sleeping, thankfully.

you step over a pile of books on the way to remus’s bed, and try not to startle him. it seems you already have, as his sleepy voice comes muffled from his bed.

“y/n? is something wrong?”

the sound of him calling you y/n sends a pang through you. as much as you complained about being called ‘mouse,’ it made you feel special whenever remus used your childish nickname.

“can’t sleep,” you mumble stupidly, your knee bumping into the edge of his bed. “sorry, didn’t mean to wake you.”

“of course y’did,” he says, voice thick with sleep. “y’weren’t coming in here just to stare at me…” he turns over, his bleary eyes finding yours in the darkness. he lifts the duvet, scooting over to make a spot for you. you climb onto the bed, but hesitate before laying beside him.

“what’s wrong?” he reaches for you, long fingers wrapping around your wrist. his thumb traces the inside of your wrist, gentle against the skin. he doesn’t tug you down, which you would appreciate if it weren’t for the full view he was getting of your upset face.

“are you mad at me?” this whisper is quieter than the last one, if possible. your eyes shine with tears, and remus’s face falls into a heavy frown.

“what are you talking about, m’little mouse?”

your heart seems as if it’s going to explode for a second; you force your gaze away from his face. you can’t stand to watch the way his brows pull together, the way his lips drag down into a frown, the concern softening his warm eyes. a lump the size of the castle has grown in your throat, and you want to hide your face more than anything.

“i just–well, after the last full moon, it just… seemed like you didn’t want to see me anymore. i know it’s a lot to deal with, and i shouldn’t have bothered you–”

“hey,” remus cuts you off, his voice soft. little choking breaths and sobs are interrupting your words, and tears cloud your vision to the point that you can barely see him in the darkness. “you never bother me. c’mere…” he sits up, pulling you into his embrace. he’s warm, his scent enveloping you in a blanket of comfort. it’s astounding just how much he’s soothed you already, your crying quickly calming to dull hiccoughs.

“so you’re not mad?” you breathe, your face tucked into his neck.

he laughs quietly. the sound is barely audible, but you feel the rumble of his chest. “no, mouse.” his lips press against your temple, and you melt into him. you close your eyes, feeling more restful than you have in days. “‘m sorry i was short with you.” he holds you close, cradling your head as you finish calming down.

“can i stay here with you?” you ask, after what feels like forever. you look up at him hopefully, face flushing at the adoring look in his eyes.

“‘course y’can,” he says, moving over even though there’s plenty of room for you already. “poor mouse, you look exhausted.” he brushes your hair out of your face, and you nod weakly.

“i haven’t slept properly for days,” you mutter, tucking yourself into his side as you settle beneath the duvet. one of your hands slips under the hem of his shirt, his skin warm against yours.

“i wish you would’ve said something sooner.”

“i know. i just–” you huff “--i was embarrassed. i didn’t want to scare you off.”

there’s his laugh again, sweet and sleepy. your stomach does a flip.

“oh, it’d be hard to scare me off after i saw you turn into a mouse–”

“rem!” you say, voice sharp despite the quiet. his stomach rumbles with light laughter, and you shake your head.

“okay, sorry,” he says, grinning. “let’s not wake the guys up. think sirius’ll have my head for disturbing his beauty sleep.”

you mumble your agreement, closing your eyes. it’s about time you got at least a few hours of good sleep. the room is quiet for a second, just slow breathing.

then, from james’s corner of the room: “what about my beauty sleep, moony?”

there’s an eruption of giggles from your bed, and you bury your face into remus’s neck to stifle the sound.

“sorry, prongs,” remus says, sheepish.

“yeah, yeah, you old sap. go to sleep, or i’m recounting this whole thing to sirius in the morning.”

“oh, please don’t,” you plead quietly.

there’s a grumble from across the room. then, “what are you gits up blabbering about?” it’s sirius, his voice gruff.

“nothing, pads,” says james. “going to sleep.”

you say nothing, cheeks burning as you settle down, curling against remus’s frame. sleep finally finds you, sweeping you off into a dreamless slumber.

#remus lupin #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin fic #remus lupin x reader #remus x reader #remus lupin x reader fluff #marauders era fic #marauders fanfiction #marauders fic #marauders era #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #marauders #the marauders #slb.works #fluff

2K notes · View notes

star-girl69 · 9 months

Text

Music To Watch Girls To

Clarisse La Rue x Fem!Demigod!Reader

—-

sypnosis: is it wrong to be obsessed with clarisse? obviously not!!

a/n: i cant just write a drabble what is wrong w me it’s always gotta be a full fledged fic damn anyways i don’t like this one that much so don’t crucify me, but i hope you all enjoy!!

Music To Watch Boys To - Lana Del Rey

warnings: FRIENDS TO LOVERS GOOD LORD, all clarisse know is be mean to her friends, like girls, and lie, reader is a little insane this time…., it’s not watching clarisse train bc i got struck with inspo but you all will like it dw, there’s still muscles and watching clarisse fight, swearing, violence, mentions of weapons, reader is an honorary ares cabin member bc i think it’s cute and i do what i want, y/n gets hurt like 20 times ITS FOR THE PLOT OK, kissing!!!!, like angst for half a sec not rly tho, tell me if i missed anything!!

—-

The only word you think of when you think of Clarisse is fuck.

It describes your feelings about her so accurately. The first time you saw her, you knew you had to have this girl. And the first time you heard her talk, she was calling some Hephaestus kid a dumbass for not fixing a dent in her armor correctly.

She was an asshole, a bully, whatever, and she was also the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. But, thank the Gods you became close friends with her brother Matty, and then Carrie, and then you practically knew everyone in the Ares cabin like your own siblings.

Even just friendship with Ares kids is an intense rollercoaster.

They admired your for your deadly skill with a bow, a few of them even openly claiming you were probably the best at camp. They were loyal and fierce, protective, funny and everything you could want in a replacement family. Your mortal parent went down a dark road after your godly parent went back to Olympus, and you had never felt that love that everyone craved.

Clarisse hated you at first, like she does everyone, until one day at the bonfire you were sitting with her and a few of her siblings, the fire was hot and it was never the same. You still remember her eyes on you, feeling intoxicated under the moon. Besides, the nights are made for secrets.

And it became a tradition.

You would look at each other next to the fire, and never speak of it again.

The rest of the time, she was like any friend. That same loyalty, focus, but sometimes you could swear she seemed to look a little longer.

After the arrival of Percy Jackson, Clarisse was especially on edge. She was supposed to be training, but she was instead sulking and ranting to Matty and Carrie.

“And he really thinks he killed that Minotaur? Doesn’t matter. That’s what everyone else thinks.”

“Talking about the new kid?” you ask, sitting on top of the picnic table next to their cabin.

“Oh, yeah,” Carrie mumbles. “Talking all about the new kid.”

Clarisse stops her angry pacing to send her a harsh glare.

“He’s just a baby, Clarisse.”

She slams her hand down on the table next to you, pointing her finger in your face.

“He’s a liar,” she hisses. “I’m gonna make him admit it.”

“Hm, okay,” you say, pressing her foot against her stomach and pushing her back. “And that’s totally logical. But have you considered that he actually killed the Minotaur?”

“I’ll punch you.”

“Oh, you love me, Clarisse,” you smile, sweeping your arms out in a big circle. “I’m the brightest part of your day.”

She glares at you.

Matty coughs to hide a laugh.

“Just ignore him!” you say. “I don’t get why you’re so obsessed over him anyways.”

“I’m not explaining myself to you,” she huffs, stubborn as ever.

“Okay, Clarisse,” you say, drawing out the words.

You miss Carrie and Matty shooting each other looks.

—-

Chiron announces the next capture the flag game later that day, and the next morning you’re heading off to the Ares cabin with your bow and armor in tow.

You walk in. They’re all adjusting their armor, polishing their weapons. A few smile at you and wave, but you head straight towards the back. Clarisse is there, helping some of her younger siblings pick out weapons from the secret weapons stash the Ares kids have curated over the years.

It’s Danny’s first game. He’s only twelve.

She looks up at you for a moment, which is about as much acknowledgment as you’re gonna get. You sit at the end of someone’s empty bed, right next to Danny.

“How you feelin’?” you ask. His face is twisted into a stone cold mask.

“Excited,” he says, like he practiced it in the mirror.

“Well, I’m scared.”

He looks at you and frowns.

“You’re the best archer in camp. Matty says so.”

You shrug. “I may be the best archer, but I’m nowhere near the best fighter.”

He nods, thinking hard like the whole world is suddenly starting to make sense.

“Hey, if I promise to keep a look out for you from the trees- will you watch out for me on the ground?”

He doesn’t need your assurance. He’s a child of Ares, they’re prebuilt with the lust for battle. But you know how to play all of them like a fiddle. They like feeling important, and he’s only twelve. It doesn’t hurt you to give this to him.

You stick out your hand and he grabs it.

“Deal.”

“Y/N,” Clarisse says. You realize she’s been standing there for a while. “Are you here to distract everyone or for a reason?”

“You know, I would welcome you into my cabin warmly.”

Her face remains stone cold. Danny runs off. Clarisse can be some sort of halfway nice, but rarely, and most of the time everyone just knows her cruel words, her ruthless tactics in battle, and her misleading words and smiles.

“You’re no fun,” you pout.

“You’re the one who sticks around. No one’s holding you hostage- you can leave.”

“I need a dagger.”

“Oh,” she says, blinking. “Wow, you actually came here for something? What happened to yours?”

“Broke,” you shrug. “The handle fell off. Weird, whatever.”

She hums, looking through the daggers hung on the wall. “This one.”

She hands it to you. It’s similar to your old dagger, except a lot sharper and a lot more sturdy. But it’s the same style you’re used to. You wonder if she knows that or not- Ares kids do notice everything.

But for Clarisse to actually do something like that with intention is rare.

“I like it,” you say. “Thanks!”

She hesitates for a second.

“Keep it.”

You look at her. “I can give it back.”

“I already told you to keep it. Don’t be pathetic and make me reassure you.”

“Okay, Clarisse,” you roll your eyes.

—-

Your position on capture the flag is always the same.

Carrie, Matty and Clarisse hunt in the woods on the ground, and you get thrown up into some random tree to shoot arrows at anyone you see.

The idea is, they see the arrow coming from up above and look to the trees, only for Clarisse, Matty and Carrie to ambush them on the ground.

It’s only the third game you’ve employed this tactic, so the blue team is starting to catch on.

After Chiron gives his speech you could probably say yourself, you head over to the three of them, holding your arm out to Matty and the red bandana. He ties it around without saying a word, Carrie reaches over and scolds you for not tying your armor tight enough.

“Blah, blah, blah,” you say. “I’ll live.”

“Yeah,” Carrie snorts. “Because I fixed it.”

“Shush,” Clarisse hisses. She finishes talking to a few more of her siblings, and they take their companies off into the woods. She turns back around. “I have a different plan today.”

Carrie and Matty grin dangerously.

There’s something in between the three of them, some sort of matching glint in their eyes.

“Okay, did I miss something? Why are you guys being so… scary?”

“You’ll see,” Clarisse says, her eyes dark.

Gods, it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen.

—-

The great thing about being up in the trees is you get to see everything.

You get to see the way Clarisse grins while she fights, the way she whips her spear around like it weights nothing, the way sweat forms at her brow- and the way her muscles flex. That’s the best part.

Her arms, her legs, her stomach, every part of Clarisse is just lean and toned muscle.

It makes you want to betray yourself in a way that would permanently embarrass you.

You follow them, of course, even though you have no idea what the hell is happening or what the plan is. There’s a reason she’s not telling you the plan. Why?

When you walk past the woods where you normally hunt, you start getting fidgety.

“Ok, guys, seriously. Tell me what’s going on.”

You realize you’re heading towards the side of the big hill, starting the climb up through the trees and rocks.

Clarisse turns around.

“Stop. Worrying.”

You grit your teeth. “I’m not worried. I’m just confused.”

She sighs, signaling to Carrie and Matty.

“You know,” she mutters. And they leave, so it’s just the two of you.

They spit up, making their way on the farthest two ends, all leading to the same ledge.

She grabs your wrists. “Stop cracking your fingers. It’s annoying, and you’ll hurt ‘em.”

“Then tell me what’s going on.”

She lets go of one of your wrists, but keeps her tight grip on the other, forcing you to keep pace behind her.

“I’m not gonna tell you again, Y/N. Don’t worry. I’m not going to put you in danger, obviously.” She laughs, as if the idea is ridiculous. “You’re a damn good archer.”

“Oh, my Gods. Did you just compliment me?”

She tenses up, finally realizing she did it.

“D-don’t let it go to your head.”

“Oh, I won’t. It will just be our little secret, won’t it?”

You bite your lip as you smile so you don’t burst out laughing.

“Sure,” she mutters, and you don’t miss the way she stares at your lips. She clears her throat, finally letting go of your wrist. “Percy Jackson-”

“Who’s a baby.”

“-attacked us last night.”

You raise an eyebrow, walking next to her. “Did you attack him first?”

She doesn’t answer that.

“I doubted you would join us. I just didn’t want you to be alone in the woods.”

“Why?”

“Hm, I saw Annabeth as we left the bathrooms. She knows, she knows we’re gonna get revenge so Luke’s gonna go straight for the flag because we’re not in the woods.”

“So you’re just sacrificing the entire game for revenge? Against a 12-year-old?”

“Revenge,” she mutters, thinking over it. “That’s a fun word.”

She smiles, looking at you.

“Oh, Gods,” you mutter.

—-

The rest of the walk continues in silence, until you can see Carrie and Matty in the distance, both waiting for Clarisse’s signal. She grins.

“Now, why don’t you just stay behind me and draw an arrow, and tell me if anyone’s coming. And when he’s distracted, you’ll sneak around behind him and block him from escaping, hm?”

You look around the forest. “Okay. But, Clarisse-”

She smacks her hand over your face. “I don’t need your morality right now. I just need you to keep those pretty eyes open and be our lookout.”

“Fine,” you hiss as you throw your hand off her mouth.

“Thank you,” she smiles, sarcastically. “Was that so hard?”

You mock her under your breath, but she signals to Carrie and Matty. They all start walking forward, trying for stealth, but your feet make sink into the gravel. He hears them. He sits up.

You don’t know anything about Percy Jackson, except for the fact he supposedly attacked the three musketeers you call your friends and possibly killed a Minotaur.

True to your word, you stay behind Clarisse, watching as she lifts her helmet off, throwing it to the ground.

Her spear sinks into the dirt.

“Flag’s that way,” Percy says. “It’s not here.”

“We know.”

You start walking out from behind her. His eyes flick between all four of you.

“Yeah, glory’s fine.” You can feel her eyes on you. “Revenge is more fun.”

She looks up at her spear, slamming it down, and you hear the familiar crackle as it lights up. Red hot electricity.

She laughs a bit.

He scrambles for his sword and spear, forgoing his helmet. They close him in. You walk around Carrie and behind him. His eyes move between you and Clarisse, but there’s nothing he can do to stop the four of you from surrounding him.

“No maiming. It’s like the one rule.”

His stance isn’t even close to correct.

“Yeah, I guess I’ll lose dessert privileges for a while,” she fake frets, looking up at her spear. She smiles and looks back at him. “I’ll live.”

Her face twists into a mask of focus and she swings out at him. He manages to dodge her first hit, and block the second with his shield.

She looks at Carrie and Matty. They lunge forward, attacking him together, and he certainly is a demigod- he has a natural talent.

But you can only really focus on the way she lifts her spear back over her head.

She grunts and spins, shocking him, before jabbing forward at his armor, making him fall back over the log he used to be laying on, right at your feet.

“I’m actually not interested in maiming or killing you, believe it or not,” she says, standing over him. “I just want you to admit you’re a fraud. It’d make me feel better. Are you feeling up to that yet?”

The way she holds her spear, the way she says it’ll make her feel better- you miss the way he swings out with his shield, hitting you in the shins.

“Fuck,” you hiss, leaning down to touch your burning leg. “Oh, fuck, that hurt.”

Percy grunts and takes off running.

“Y/N,” Matty says, a silent question in his concerned voice.

“I’m fine,” you mumble, shaking your leg out.

Clarisse glares at his retreating figure.

“I guess he has a fucking death wish,” she whispers, voice full of a deadly promise.

She grunts and launches herself over the log, Carrie and Matty following. You straighten yourself and take off running after them. You leg does burn, but you still manage to keep pace. Besides, Matty is already far ahead, surprising him and knocking him down from the path, making him tumble through the woods and land on the beach.

Matty and Carrie wave their swords at him from the right. He pants and breathes heavily, backing up, but when he turns around to run- Clarisse is there.

You draw your bow again, out of habit.

The arrows you use aren’t actual arrows of course, but filed down to little circle rocks at the end. They won’t kill you, but they fucking hurt.

You can’t help but giggle as he falls onto his back, scared just by Clarisse being there.

She laughs too, before all three of them launch into an attack.

They push him back, towards you, and you step back with them, waiting for the perfect moment.

But your eyes drift up to Clarisse. She’s hanging back for just a second while Matty and Carrie jab at him. She looks… proud. She looks really fucking proud that you’re laughing at this 12-year-olds misery.

But Clarisse was right. Revenge is fun. And you hate it, but you can’t stop it.

You smile back at her, and it’s like those nights at the bonfire, you know you’ll never speak of it again. It doesn’t matter. Right now, there’s angelic music playing in your head, and you’re watching her. You’re watching her, the sweat on her brow, the way her hands clasp her spear.

Her face twists into something else.

“Y/N!” she shouts, but Carrie and Matty pushed him too far, you didn’t move back enough- distracted by her- and you slam into each other, a tangle of limbs and metal.

He does this awkward sort of flip over you, landing a few feet behind you. You drop your bow in favor of catching yourself, and it gets caught on his shield and dragged along with him.

It’s a blur, you yelp as you go down, Percy groans.

They’re all standing there, tense and watching the way Percy stands up with your bow in his hands. His stance is nowhere near correct, it actually makes you cringe more than your bruised side after the fall.

Why the hell are you the one who keeps getting hurt?

Percy let’s out a breath. “Why don’t we all just walk away and forget this happened?”

“You just made that impossible,” Clarisse hisses.

You just want to get an ice pack on your leg and sit down. You’re tired. You want to boss Clarisse around as payment for bringing you here.

“Okay, okay, just stop. This is stupid, all of you. He’s, like, 12. He didn’t do it on purpose, you’re just attacking him for no reason.” Carrie and Matty look at the ground. Clarisse glares at you.

You turn around and face Percy. “Just go, okay.”

He looks between you and Clarisse.

“O-okay,” he breathes.

You can feel her move, hear her footsteps in the sand, her spear cutting through the wind. She comes around you, and Percy gets scared, so he raises up the bow and let’s it go- pointed straight at her face.

But it never hits her. It hits you, of course, because you have the worst luck in the world.

It hits you right in the chest, and it doesn’t kill you, but Percy is strong and it knocks the wind out of you.

Clarisse throws her spear to the ground and catches you, screaming your name at the top of her lungs.

Gods, this was so stupid. All of it. He didn’t mean to hurt you, he meant to stop her from attacking him. Because Clarisse is bloodthirsty. She cares about no one else but herself.

You were stupid to think she ever did.

But even through all of this, everyone treating you like a rag doll, you stare into Clarisse’s eyes. She’s frozen. She’s watching the rapid rise and fall of your chest, she’s watching the way you press your hand into your chest, trying to breathe, she’s looking at the fear in your eyes.

You’re terrified. And Clarisse looks the exact same way you feel.

You mouth her name.

Carrie and Matty are gathered around you, telling you to just breathe, take a breath in, but you can’t.

Clarisse let’s go of you and ignores your hands trying to hold her back, ignores Carrie warning her.

Oh, Gods, you’re in love with her and she’s just your friend, but it all hurts and you just need her right now.

Percy tries to scramble away from what he’s done, but Clarisse grabs him by his shirt and holds him up.

You think she’s actually going to kill him- then the conch sounds.

You all turn around.

The blue team runs to the beach, sticking the red flag into the ground. They all cheer loudly, Luke and Chris at the center of it.

Clarisse throws Percy back down on the ground.

She picks up your bow. Matty helps you stand up, you can breathe now, and you’re really fine. You just couldn’t for a minute. You don’t look at Clarisse, even though you want to.

—-

The four of you end up at the sword practice field, sitting on picnic tables like you did that one day.

Matty touches a few scratches on his arms from where he burst through the woods, scraping himself on something thorny.

Clarisse walks towards a dummy and starts attacking it. She lets all her anger out on it. They didn’t win, and her revenge is incomplete so, its not even worth it. You could have told her that from the beginning, but whatever.

Clarisse can do whatever she wants. She doesn’t listen to you, she doesn’t care about you- not as much as you want her too. Not as much as you care about her.

She’s so wonderfully in her element it makes you want her more. This is where she belongs, in the field in the sun, with her spear in her hands. She belongs here, where she feels closest to her father and farthest away from her responsibilities, from the constant battle it is for her to keep her emotions in check.

Even after a minute of her obliterating the dummy, she seems better. Finally, after another minute, she slows down until she stops.

You don’t stop looking at her until she turns around and looks at you. She breathes out.

“Are you okay?” she asks, sitting down on the opposite end of the bench.

“Fine. Just got the wind knocked out of me.”

She hums.

“C’mon, Matty,” Carrie says. “Let’s go back to the cabin, I’m thirsty.”

You’re not ready to get up yet, you’re too comfortable here on the bench, it’s too easy to breathe in the valley.

Clarisse flexes, stretching her spear over her head, and you watch her. Of course you watch her. You don’t think you’ll ever just be able to look at her in passing- you’ll always have to focused, you’ve always have to have your eyes totally and completely on her.

Like she’s some book you have to study. Like she’s all you’ve ever wanted to look at.

“Stop staring at me, weirdo,” she mumbles.

You sit up straighter. “I’m not. You’re just flexing dramatically all over the place, of course I’m gonna take notice of it.”

“Okay, sure,” she taunts, and you remember what happened, you remember how you felt when she walked away from you to continue with her revenge.

“I-I’m gonna go back to my cabin.” You don’t wanna be around her, not right now at least. “See you later, Clarisse.”

She stands up immediately. “I’ll walk you.”

“No, thanks, it’s fine.”

“Y/N, you got hurt because of me.” She crouches down and tugs up your pant leg. “How’s your leg? Your side?”

Matty, Carrie and Clarisse too, sometimes, are always touching you and doing things for you. It’s sweet. They aren’t good with the words, but they show you they love you, and that means more than anything else.

If she hadn’t done what she did, if she really cared about you, then you wouldn’t mind her touching you like this. You would love it.

“Clarisse- get off of me,” you shake your leg out, which hurts a bit, but she lets go and stands up.

Her face twists into one of anger, her fists clenched.

“I’m sorry, okay. I’m sorry you got hurt. I feel really bad about it, so just let me do this for you.”

“It’s not about that,” you mumble, cursing yourself and hoping she doesn’t hear you. Of course she does.

“Then what’s it about?”

You try to turn away, but she clamps her around your wrist and tugs you back towards her.

“What’s it about, Y/N?”

She holds your hand to her chest.

You both know what it’s about.

“Just stop, Clarisse,” but your body betrays you and you make no move to push her away. She notices, of course she notices, and she pulls you closer. “We’ve been dancing around each other for months.”

She blinks and her grip on your wrist loosens.

“And it was fun. It was a fun game, okay, Clarisse. But you can stop playing it now. You showed me today that your care more about yourself then you ever could me. I’m sick of it.” You tug your hand away. “I’m so sick of it, Clarisse.”

She grips you tighter again.

“What the hell are you talking about? I’m running around looking like a fool, and you think I care about myself? You think I don’t care about you?”

Your breath is a little shaky again.

“You could have helped me and you chose revenge.”

“For you.”

“What?”

“He slammed his shield into your leg, knocked you over, and then shot you in the chest. Of course I wanted revenge. Not for me, it was about that at first, but then, Gods, did you do something to him?”

You laugh. She smiles, staring at your face like she’s seeing you for the first time.

“Like, he just kept coming after you, I don’t get it. But I… I like you. Like, like you. And I don’t know what that means, but I don’t really care. I just… want you. I want to be near you all the time. And I go crazy when you’re with someone else. I want to touch you all the time, hug you, hold you… I want to kiss you so bad I think I’m gonna fucking explode.”

Fuck is always the first word you think of when you think of her. It used to be because she made you so angry with the secrets, but now it’s just the things the says make you wonder how much more you can fall in love with her.

“Well, I don’t really want you to explode,” you roll your eyes. “That’d be too messy. Besides, I-”

“You’re always such a fucking worrier.”

She plants her hands on your face and presses her lips to yours. You can feel the slight desperateness she won’t say, but she’ll tell you with her body. You can feel everything she won’t show, won’t say. How beautiful you are. How scared she was. How much she wanted you and for how long.

You feel it all just by her lips, and you can’t help but wonder what more she can tell you.

She pulls back and smiles.

“If you tell anyone about this, I’ll deny it.”

“I’m the light of your life, Clarisse.”

“Yeah,” she agrees, grabbing you tighter and kissing you again. You grab onto her arms, smiling. You always wondered what he muscles would feel like against you.

There’s only one word to describe the way it feels.

Fuck.

—-

clarisse when she accidentally told y/n she has pretty eyes: PLEASE DONT NOTICE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

y/n my ladybug not noticing: 🧍‍♀️

—-

y/n and clarisse just being insane together WDYM YOURE LAUGHING WHEN A KID FALLS OVER STOP

—-

clarisse: bitch stop WORRYING

y/n: WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT FROM ME SHUT UP

—-

clarisse and y/n both pretending that clarisse giving her a dagger wasnt literally a declaration of love and also clarisse throwing her spear down to catch y/n???? bitch she’s in LOVE

—-

taglist:

@jazhandzzz

@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008 @liballer @heyimadison @nvirskies @pnsteblnme @mar2ss @restellsss

#clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue x y/n #clarisse la rue x you #pjo tv show #pjo x reader

972 notes · View notes

seriouslysnape · 8 months

Text

Aftermath of a Full Moon

Remus Lupin x Sirius Black x James Potter x Fem! Reader Tags: Fluff. Remus recovering after a full moon. Word Count: 2.8k "You sure you feel alright?"

✮⋆˙✮⋆˙✮⋆˙✮

Remus' head had been pounding all day.

The sting from the frozen ice pack over his eyes was nothing compared to relentless pounding inside of his skull. It had been going on for hours now, creeping its way in as a mild headache early that morning to escalating to a full blown migraine attack as the day went on.

Now it was an hour past dinnertime, and Remus wasn't any better. Remus hadn't eaten a single thing that day, but with how horribly sick to his stomach he felt, he wasn't sure he would've been able to hold anything down.

This wasn't the worst migraine he'd ever experienced, but it was bad enough to knock him out of commission for the day. He had skipped all of his classes today, too exhausted and too miserable to even attempt to attend.

Remus was nauseated beyond belief. His eyes felt like they were borderline burning they were so hot. He was achy in his neck and shoulders -- and not to mention, the throbbing pain in his head hadn't let up in the slightest.

The most recent full moon had been a hard one. Some months were simply better than others, and this hadn't been the best...nor the worst.

Remus hated how inconsistent he felt after each full moon.

Some months he would bounce back in a day or so. Other months, the recovery could last for weeks -- and by the time he felt better, it was time for the full moon again.

This one was rough on him, and he was definitely feeling it.

He had been in bed all day. He was still wearing what he slept in the night before, and he was lying in nearly the same position that he was in when Sirius and James left for the day.

Remus hadn't seen a stitch of daylight that day. Both because there were a series of thunderstorms rolling through for the next couple days and because he had drawn the curtains, leaving himself in the dark for the entirety of the day.

Any kind of light or noise agitated him, and at this point, Remus was willing to do anything to make it stop. Remus had done nothing but lie still and listen to the rain and thunder. He knew it would pass, but that wasn't any kind of consolation when he was going through at in that moment.

Remus didn't have any clue as to what time it was. It felt like it had been days, but he knew that once James and Sirius returned, that would mean it was the end of the day.

You, James, and Sirius left early that morning when they caught on that Remus wasn't feeling well, and they hadn't been back since to give him some quiet and space. You were worried about him because it always broke your heart to see any of them not at their best.

Remus hadn't given any of you much of a proper interaction that day, which all three of you understood given how bad he was feeling. Still, Remus felt a tinge of guilt for being so distant.

As if on cue, he identified two heavy pairs of footsteps outside the door, which he knew meant the arrival of his two best friends.

Remus was glad his eyes were covered when they opened the door because the light beaming in might've pushed him over the edge.

"Hey mate," James spoke as quietly as he entered, knowing that any kind noise just made it worse. "Any better?"

Remus could only shake his head, swallowing hard and continuing to focus on his breathing.

"If you're still feeling sick," Sirius reached into the pocket of his robes to retrieve a small vial of a medium orange colored potion. "I snagged you a dose of this stuff. I think it's a hard swallow but will settle the nausea."

Sirius left it on the top of Remus' trunk that was on the floor at the foot of his bed, and Remus croaked out a thank you.

"Thanks, Pads. I'll get to it in a minute," He shuddered. "I'm scared to move."

Remus had finally found a position to lie in that was semi-tolerable. He hadn't moved an inch in hours, and he was beginning to lose sensation in his limbs.

Sirius and James left the lights off, using their wands to navigate the room.

You were always a bit nervous whenever Remus was having a hard time after a full moon. He was so sensitive in every aspect after a moon, you always worried you'd make it worse.

That's why you were extra quiet when you moved around and didn't say much -- and when you did speak, you were very soft spoken.

Remus hadn't heard you walk in because of this, and he was feeling bad for not paying you any attention for the last couple days...particularly today when he really went down for the count.

"Where's baby girl?" Remus asked, and your head perked up. "She in her dorm tonight?"

"No, she's here." James flashed you his movie star smile.

"Hi, Rem." You said softly, sticking close to Sirius and lingering around him.

"Hey pretty girl," He responded genuinely, but not even a ghost of a smile appeared on his face. "I didn't hear you come in."

You didn't say anything else, only listening to Sirius and James talk to Remus.

"We brought your assignments," James said, referring to what he had missed in class that day. "It's not that much. You'll have the weekend to do it."

"Yeah. And [Y/N] brought you some leftovers in case you get hungry." Sirius said.

You indeed were holding a wrapped plate of food from dinner, which you had forgotten about until Sirius mentioned it. You left it next to the potion for Remus to get when he wanted it.

"Thanks, bun. You didn't have to do that for me," He said, pressing the ice pack further down onto his eyes. "I'll get to it when I feel more settled."

"Drink that potion, mate." Sirius said. "Promise it'll work wonders."

"Why don't you take it to him, baby?" James suggested, and you silently obliged.

Remus heard your feet creep to the side of his bed, glass vial in your hand and uncorked. Remus reached his hand out, taking it into his grip when you placed it in his palm.

Remus raised his head just enough to gulp down the bitter potion, setting his head back down as soon as it was in his system. He handed the now empty vial back to you, giving your wrist an appreciative squeeze.

He noticed that you scurried away as soon as he dropped your hand, which only made his guilt of neglecting you worse.

"You're staying the night, yeah?" James asked you, referring to how you still had your school bag and shoes on.

You only nodded, setting your bag down gently next to Sirius' bed and unlacing your shoes to go with it. Sirius and James shared a look, both of them picking up on how you were acting.

And maybe, just maybe, you had a bit of a soft spot for Remus that was different from Sirius and James. Seeing Remus like this was hard on you.

And Remus knew he wasn't the most pleasant to be around after a bad full moon. He was irritable, short-tempered, and just overall not feeling well. And there had been a time or two where Remus had snapped at you or said something that hurt your feelings.

Remus always came around and had a conversation with you, apologizing and explaining that it wasn't your fault.

But all it took was one time for you to be pretty shut down when Remus was coming off a full moon.

They knew you were pretty reserved when Remus was like this, so they didn't think too much of it.

It was going to be a quiet night for everybody, since Remus was going to need the quiet and darkness to keep his head from exploding off of his shoulders.

The next hour or so went by, and the three of you were silent as you traversed through the room, choosing tasks that didn't require any noise or high energy.

James was stationed at his desk, using nothing more than his desk lamp to do his homework and work on some Quidditch things. Sirius was sitting on his bed with a deck of cards, working on some new trick he had learned from somewhere. You were laying on your stomach, flipping through a new Muggle novel that you had picked up from a friend.

Remus hadn't said a word, still lying flat with his eyes covered and head pounding. As the minutes passed, you couldn't stand to see him like this.

Most of the time, the best thing to do was to leave Remus alone and let it pass -- but it pained you to see him so pitiful. You closed your book, shifting to go to get off the bed. Sirius caught your gaze on Remus and knew what you were headed to do.

"Hey, pup." Sirius whispered, grabbing your ankle that was next to him to stop you from approaching him. "Moony's not feeling so good. Let's give him some more time, yeah?"

Remus heard Sirius, of course -- it was so quiet there was no way he couldn't. Remus couldn't deny you like that, not after he'd been so far the last couple of days.

"No, s'alright," Remus sat up very slowly, tossing the useless ice pack that was beginning to turn room temperature at the foot of his bed. "C'mere, bunny."

Your eyes looked to James, who only gave you a nod of approval. Still, you didn't move.

"I don't want to make it worse." You fiddled with your fingers, bending them nervously and hearing them pop.

"Not gonna make it worse, my love." He shifted to make room on his mattress, groaning at the aching in his muscles. "Come sit."

Sirius gave your backside a light tap, pushing you into motion. Your feet shuffled to Remus' bed, your body slowly crawling onto his mattress and snuggling next to him. He wrapped an arm around your waist, his hand resting on the outside of your thigh.

"You could never make it worse," He pressed a kiss to your temple, sighing as he held you close. "It was just a rough moon this time."

"Do you feel any better?" You asked.

Truthfully, he didn't. The potion had settled his nausea, but for the most part he still felt like he had all day. But he could tell you were worried, and he didn't see any sense in worrying you further.

"A little bit," He said. "I think I'll drink a dose of Sleeping Draught tonight and be good as new tomorrow."

Sirius was still shuffling his deck of cards, giving you a reassuring smile.

"He's gonna be just fine," He said. "Promise."

Remus nodded in agreement, chuckling when you snuggled closer to him. In a way, he felt better having you close to him. He always loved having you around, and knowing that you weren't sore with him made him feel better.

"I'm sorry I haven't seen you much this week," He apologized, kissing the crown of your head when you rested your head on his shoulder. "I owe you one, hm?"

"No, it's okay. I knew you weren't feeling well." You said.

"You're so patient," Remus laughed. "I don't know how you put up with us sometimes."

Sirius and James both laughed at that because they agreed...and found it ironic considering Remus was the least difficult of the three.

"Can I sleep with Rem tonight?" You asked James, since it was technically his turn to have you tonight.

Remus' heart did a joyful leap, but he looked at James for a response. It wasn't often that there was a change in the rotation, but there were special occasions where you wanted to switch it up -- and most of the time, it wasn't an issue.

"Up to you, mate. I don't mind." He grinned.

Remus looked at you, smiling at your eyes that were all lit up at getting to spend time with him.

"Sure, doll. How about you get one of your blankets from your dorm so you don't get cold tonight?"

The suggestion hung in the air for only a moment, a gentle reminder of the care that was woven into the fabric of your relationship. You were up on your feet in seconds, giddy with excitement as you rushed out of the room to make the journey to your dorm to return with what you would need for the night.

The three of them laughed at your eagerness, taking that as a sign to start winding down for an early night in.

Remus knew he needed to eat something before bed, since he would feel sluggish in the morning if he didn't. Remus reached over the end of his bed, taking his plate of leftovers into his lap.

"You sure you feel alright?" Sirius asked, reaching into his trunk to toss Remus a plastic utensil.

Remus caught it, and started taking small bites and chewing slowly.

"As good as I'm gonna feel tonight," He sighed. "A night of sleep should set me straight."

Remus hadn't realized how hungry he was, which wasn't surprising considering he hadn't eaten all day and had been preoccupied trying to get some relief.

"Do you need anything else?" James asked.

"Nah. I'm alright," Remus replied. "Just don't tell her I'm still feeling bad."

They understood what he meant. Remus never wanted to cause any trouble, and he definitely didn't want anyone making a fuss over him. If he needed help, he would ask.

Remus did his best on eating, clearing about half of what you had brought him from The Great Hall. It wasn't much, but it was enough to provide him some fuel.

Remus showered too, which was the most he had done all day. He stood under the stream of hot water, hoping it would melt away some of the tension and pounding in his head. It didn't do much other than refresh him a bit, but even that was a nice feeling to have.

Remus re-entered the dorm with a fresh T-shirt and sweats, laughing when he saw you were already snuggled and settled in his bed, curled up with your book to get a few more pages in before it was time to go to bed. Sirius and James were also in their beds, finishing up their tasks for the night.

"You always know how to make yourself at home, huh?" He teased.

You looked up from your book, a small smile on your face.

"I guess it's a habit now." You closed the cover and set it aside.

He moved towards his trunk, opening it and retrieving a vial of Sleeping Draught. He swallowed the dark blue potion with ease, hoping it would kick in quickly.

He moved towards the bed, the exhaustion from the day still evident in his movements. But there was a spark in his eyes now, a spark that hadn't been there before. He climbed into the bed next to you, his body sinking into the familiar comfort of his mattress.

His hair was still damp from the shower, the droplets of water catching the faint light in the room. He looked at you, his eyes reflecting a quiet kind of happiness.

He kissed your cheek when he pulled you close, whispering in your ear as you got settled.

"Did you tell Siri and James goodnight?" He asked, and you nodded.

"She did. With plenty of sympathy kisses for little Jamesie." Sirius laughed, and James launched a pillow at his face.

Sirius shrieked and continued to cackle and poke fun at James who really wasn't hurt in the slightest.

"You're fine, baby. Enjoy being with Moony tonight," James smiled genuinely. "I'll have you tomorrow."

You weren't listening much to their conversation. You were more focused on Remus, watching his eyelashes flutter as he kept his eyes closed to keep his head from pounding worse. He could feel himself growing sleepy, and he hoped that sleep would surely take him.

"Are you sure you're okay?" You asked, eyes wide and full of concern.

Remus had been asked that question for what felt like a million times that day -- but he appreciated the care.

"Yeah, my love." He kissed your forehead. "I am."

And Remus would be okay with a little more time. He would wake up the next morning with a clear and pain-free head, with nothing more than some mild fatigue and a desperation to see something other than the walls of the dormitory.

And over the next few days, he would spend his time making it up to you -- spending every spare moment he had with you and giving you as much affection as he could spare.

Remus would be alright. With you, he always would be.

514 notes · View notes

hunnylagoon · 9 months

Text

Right Where You Left Me

Pt 3: Being So Normal

Ellie Williams x Reader

Horror pushes tears from my eyes as I uncover the corpses of your past relationships. Each of them dead and lifeless as the next. Because that is what you do, you ruin what is good and it makes me miss you less and less as everyday goes by.

Premise: You and Ellie were childhood friends until you drifted apart. Funny thing about soulmates is that they tend to find their way back to each other. On this night some questionable choices lead you to a vulnerable state where you run out of options.

Warnings: Angst / reader has religious issues / drinking / smoking / drugs

Part one here!

Part two here!

Part three here!

ELLIE

It wasn't as fun as I thought to watch you fall apart.

The morning after Christmas you left before I even woke, your makeshift bed made. You gathered all of the boxes of shit I collected off your dad's lawn and took off, leaving behind nothing more than a letter thanking my dad for his hospitality.

When I came back to Northridge a week later it was like I was looking at a new person.

Everything that had happened was swept under the rug, you lied and told the girls that you had a great Christmas. You started picking up overtime shifts, you were out more than you were at home.

I watch you stumble through the doors at five AM, makeup smeared, hair a mess and the fakest smile I have ever borne witness to, plastered across your face. You worked the closing shift almost every night and would go partying afterwards with your shitty co-workers who enabled this type of ruination.

I saw your stories too, shot after shot, In every single picture you nurse a drink in your hand or a cigarette wedged between your fingers. When did you even start smoking?

Abby and Cat didn't know just had bad you were but Dina was catching on. I remember how she would go out with you at the beginning, in her mind it had just been harmless fun until it was a nightly occurrence she started to get concerned.

It's like you've euthanized the person you used to be.

You can't even stand to be in a quiet room so you will it with nonsense conversation, hardly even words and laugh at your own jokes.

You used to glow. Back in middle school, you glowed like a candle that smelled of pumpkins and lattes, your love felt like sinking into a warm bath, comfort and security. In high school you glowed like the moon, no one could pry their wondering eyes away from your nerve-wracking beauty, gentle and empathetic.

Though now you do not glow, you burn. You burn like the end of a cigarette, the bud fluttering to the ground just to be crushed by the heel of muddy Converse. The spark of a lighter to ignite your stale menthol cigarette, slipped from bony fingers like clumsy matchsticks to the wilderness, to set what once was beautiful aflame.

Fire is only beautiful while it burns, I knew that soon you would smother yourself out to ashes.

I've been nourishing my withering body with 50-cent packets of ramen noodles.

I know that I'm not well, in fact, I think I've fallen off the rails.

When was the last time I got a full night of sleep? I'm not sure.

My days and nights bleed together and I can hardly differentiate the two. I hate everyone but I'm so starved for love I am searching everywhere for it, I look for it in dingy clubs and roadkill off the side of a highway, the bottom of a solo cup and the arms of one-night stands, I have even learned to lick it off silver knives. They have taken the rosery from my hand and replaced it with hard liquor.

I went out last night to forget like I do every single night. I look to the moon and pretend it is its being with thoughts and feelings, I act like I talk to it and it has said that it shines just for me.

Tonight, I will go out again. I smear glitter over my eyelids and slip into a silver sequin dress that doesn't even fall past my fingertips. I force my scabbed and bleeding feet into white stilettos that are sure to damage them even further. When I look in the mirror I feel a new sense of bitterness, like nicotine on the tip of my tongue, my face is thinning and my eyes are sunken in, dark bags hanging below the dull irisis. I cover it in concealer and bronze my face to help me look some sort of alive.

"Where are you going?" Dina asks me as I walk from my room and towards the front door, she has a tote bag packed up, her car keys in hand.

"The Monarch," I answer, it was a club on the main street, it tended to be the busiest also infamous for sketchy activity. My eyebrows furrow as I look at the tote bag in hand "Where are you going?"

"I'm going to Jesse's for the night, " She says, tonight her hair is loose and falling over her shoulders "Are you sure you wanna go out tonight?"

I nod, suddenly feeling vulnerable in my choice of clothing "Yeah," Sensing her judgement, I'm already getting defensive "I'm in college, all I do and go to work and school-

"Who's fault is that?" Dina cuts me off and my words fail me, I don't know what to say. She looks at me with disappointment glinting in her dark eyes.

My phone dings and I check the notification "My ride is here."

"Don't stay out too late."

"I won't," We both know that I am lying.

I have been many things over the years, a pirate, a cowboy, a warrior; over the past five months alone I have been a lonely girl and a saint, now I am a drunk who drowns out her worries in vodka and overly sweet cocktails.

"To being young, dumb, and broke!" Kayla raises her shot, and the rest of the group does the same. The small glasses clink together, and some of the vodka spills before we all swallow them back and slam them back onto the bar.

The central focal point was the expansive dance floor, alive with bodies moving in rhythmic unison. Multicoloured strobe lights cut through the haze, creating an otherworldly atmosphere.

The bar, a gleaming expanse of polished metal, beckoned with the promise of libations. Bartenders, clad in stylish attire, skillfully craft cocktails. The mirrored backdrop reflected the kaleidoscope of lights and the animated conversations that unfolded in this hub of social convergence.

Overhead, suspended fixtures resembling metallic sculptures add to the overstimulation.

"Welcome back," The bartender, Mitch, smiles at me, I know him by name now that I've been bouncing around from club to club almost every night. "Long Island ice tea?" He asks, to which I respond with a nod. He's memorized my drink too.

Kayla is beside me while the others have dispersed to dance or converse, she sips a dirty martini. Her beautiful copper hair is styled into loose curls, she is clad in all black, a tube top, a mini skirt and tall boots as well as a slightly oversized leather jacket thrown overtop. She looks like the definition of a cool girl.

Everyone liked her.

"So how are things with the roommates?" She asks me, her green eyes piercing mine, she has a slight smile on her perfect lips.

"It's fine," I lied, again. I knew Dina was getting tired of taking care of me when I was too drunk to make my own way home, all of the girls that Ellie brought over hated me. I haven't been seeing much of Abby but Cat and I were actually good.

I can tell that Kayla doubts my words but she carries on to another topic "Are you ready to get fucked up tonight?"

"Yes, ma'am," I giggle. Around the curved bar, I see a woman, she's in a red top and black jeans, her hair in a mousy brown shag cut. Obviously, she caught my eye. "Do you think she's gay?"

Kayla discreetly turns to look at the woman, she turns back to me grinning "No shit."

The woman catches me staring at her and smiles at me, of course, she has perfectly straight white teeth and a pretty smile. I sheepishly smile back "Hey, Mitch?" I wait for the bartender to give me his attention "Two shots of Everclear?"

That's how the majority of my night plays out; I dance for a minute, swaying to- not really swaying, I was dancing in a way that became a hazard to those around me then return to the bar to down more drinks.

"Hey," I hear a voice beside me, it isn't one I recognize, and when I face it, I feel my heartbeat pick up. It was the woman I had been eyeing, now that she's this close I can see the freckles scattered on her face. "Do you wanna dance?"

I can't help when my face splits into a smile, "For sure," I slip off the barstool and follow her onto the dancefloor, the lights are orange and hazy or maybe the haziness is caused by my drunken state. The woman says something to me but it's drowned out by the overwhelmingly loud music "What?"

"I'm Karris," She repeats, smiling down at me.

"Cool!" I say. I followed Karris' lead with the dancing, she had a certain confidence in her.

I swayed with each ungraceful movement. Karris, the opposite of me is attuned to the music, moved with a confident fluidity that balanced out my careless stumbles. She laughs at my dancing "Here, I'll help you out." She shouts, trying to be heard over the Rhianna song blasting in my ears.

She comes up behind me, snaking her hands down my torso until they find a resting spot on my hips. With a firm grip, she slows me down, and now I'm moving with her, as one.

My sequin dress shimmered with every twist and move, like a mirrorball, I too might hang. As the light shifts I could've sworn I saw Ellie in the face of Karris.

I felt the liquor hit me all at once and my body became loose, melting into Karris, I'm almost limp against her touch. She's in front of me now and my arms are hooked around her neck while her slim hands lay on her midriff.

Her eyebrows furrow as she says something to me but once again it it lost in all of the noise, I just laugh, pretending like I heard what she was saying and hoping that it wasn't something about her dog dying.

The pop song changes into some song in French, I can't make out the words. Wait, I aced every French test in high school, I step away from Karris, squinting my eyes as I stand still in the middle of the dancefloor trying to process the lyrics.

Je veux te voir- I need you, no, that doesn't sound right. I want to see you, that's it.

je veux t'avoir- I want to hold you.

I want to hold you? Is that it? When did my French get so rough? I can't even think straight.

I swear on every god I was so drunk that I forgot I was in the middle of a dancefloor, it had slipped from my mind that I was dancing with someone, and all I could think about was my French classes from high school.

Age fifteen - Grade 10

The French lesson seemed to be even more boring than usual that day. Monsieur Cargin was babbling on and on about how there could be a room full of women but if there was one male rat you would refer to them using ils instead of elles. It was the same lesson I had learned every single year in French.

It took Monsieur Cargin thirty minutes to announce the project. "Pour ce devoir, vous écrirez une lettre à un camarade de classe sur vous-même, vous pourrez inclure des informations sur votre famille, vos passe-temps, vos sujets préférés et peut-être un bon souvenir. Si vous êtes ami avec votre partenaire, vous pouvez écrire avec lui sur quelque chose que vous attendez avec impatience. La lettre fera au minimum un paragraphe, je viserais plus haut si vous voulez une bonne note." Easy enough, a letter to a classmate about your self. "Avant de demander, vous pouvez choisir vos propres partenaires."

I look right over to Ellie from across the room after he mentions choosing our own partners, she doesn't meet my gaze though, she looks as lost as ever, rifling through some papers in her binder and I'm not even sure she understood a word of what the teacher said.

Monsieur Cargin lets us begin our project, everyone gets up from their seat to search for a partner; Ellie, seeing that everyone is standing up, gets up as well. I wave her down to my desk, she crouches beside it and asks "What the fuck are we supposed to be doing?"

I explain the project to her while she hangs off my desk and nods at everything I'm saying, giving me her full attention "Do you get it now?"

"Yes."

The next day we finished writing the letters and had to give them to each other before we turned it in, I gave Ellie my letter first.

Ellie,

Je suis heureux que nous soyons amis, non seulement parce que nos parents nous ont forcés à l'être, mais parce que tu es mon âme sœur dans chaque vie. J'aimerais te parler de moi, mais tu me connais déjà mieux que moi-même, alors je vais juste dire certaines choses que je sais sur toi. Vous avez lu chaque couverture de la bande dessinée Savage Starlight, plus d'une fois. Je sais que vous aimez faire du shopping dans la section hommes des magasins parce que vous pensez que c'est plus confortable même si vous finissez par ressembler à Adam Sandler. Vous détestez les mathématiques même si vous êtes vraiment bon dans ce domaine et vous aimez l'anglais même si vous détestez les études romanesques. Vous parlez à toute vitesse parce que vous avez tellement de choses à dire et pas assez de temps pour le dire, vous chantez comme une église avec une chorale et chaque fois que je vous vois entrer dans une pièce, je ne peux m'empêcher de sourire. J'ai hâte d'entrer à l'université, nous pouvons être colocataires et décorer la maison exactement comme nous le voulons, merci de toujours me supporter.

(Translation)

Ellie,

I'm glad that we're friends, not just because our parents forced us to be but because you are my soulmate in every single life. I would like to tell you about me, but you already know me better than I know myself so instead I will just say some things I know about you. You have read every Savage Starlight comic cover to cover, more than once. I know that you like to shop in the men's section at stores because you think it's more comfortable even if you end up looking like Adam Sandler. You hate math even though you are really good at it and you love English even though you hate novel studies. You talk at a mile a minute because you have so much to say and not enough time to say it, you sing like a church with a choir in it and every time I see you walk into a room I can't help but smile. I can't wait for college, we can be roommates and decorate the house exactly how we want it, thank you for always putting up with me.

I bent the rubric a little bit, talking about Ellie rather than myself but we were really getting graded on our French comprehension, not the subject matter of the letter. Ellie read it through, over and over, nodding her head along and pretending that it made perfect sense but I can tell by the way she squints her eyes and furrows her eyebrows that it doesn't make sense. She hand hers to me next, pride clear across her face.

Ton père est toujours en colère et je pense que c'est pour ça que nous sommes mariés. J'apprécie quand tu dors dans ma chambre et que nous nous battons avec des pistolets à eau. Mon film préféré à regarder est Star Wars, mais j'apprécie aussi Hunger Games parce que vous en êtes témoin. J'attends avec impatience une soirée cinéma ce vendredi avec vous. Tu es très cool, merci d'être mon ami.

(Translation)

Your dad is always mad and I think that is why we are married. I enjoy when you sleep at my room and we fight with guns of water. My favourite movie to watch is Star Wars but I also enjoy Hunger games because you witness it. I look forward to night movie this Friday because with you. You are very cool, thank for being my friend.

I can't help but giggle when I read it over, this causes panic in Ellie "Why are you laughing, what's wrong with it?"

"I love you but you are definitely failing."

I quickly helped her rewrite it before we turned it in, and she ended up getting a B with my revisions.

"Are you okay?" I hear Karris, she looks a little on edge, probably because I went nonverbal and froze for a solid minute or two.

"She's fine," Kayla puts her hands on either of my arms which are currently plastered to my side "I'm just gonna snag her for a minute if you don't mind." Kayla didn't wait for a response she was already dragging me away, guiding me through the sea of people and into the bathroom.

I always hated the bathroom here. The walls were black tile with white grout and there was graffiti all over the stalls and ceiling, apparently, it added to the effect, I just thought it was fugly; not to mention how dimly lit it was, there were red LED strips behind the mirrors but that was about the only light source. If you were trying to fix your eyeliner, you

"What is going on with you?" Kayla leans against the counter with the sinks, I'm right in front of her with my arms crossed.

"Nothing-

"I just saw you glitch in real life," She raises her eyebrows "You literally froze, I thought you were having a stroke."

I wipe some sweat off my brow "My head hurts," I mutter, I've already had too much to drink and we really hadn't been there that long. My thoughts didn't seem to process. Now keep in mind that I was so insanely plastered that night that I don't remember everything verbatim, I had to take others' words for what happened.

"Do you want an aspirin?" Kayla asks to which I nod and she begins digging through her purse, she pulls out a little bottle and I hear the rattling of pills. It's so dark that I can only make out the vague shape of the bottle. She places a little pill into my hand and gives me a half-drunk bottle of Fiji water in my free hand.

I don't need the water though, I dry swallow it.

She tucks the bottle back into her purse and feels something, I see her eyes go wide and that alone begins to stress me out. "What?" I ask, with no answer. She dumps her purse onto the counter behind her and turns on her phone flash to look at each item, she snatches a bottle of Tylenol and takes the cap off just for her hand to fly over her mouth. "Is something wrong?"

"I didn't give you aspirin," She's fighting back laughter but her dainty features are etched with concern.

"So?" I say, "It's just Tylenol, it won't kill me," My speech is slurred from the alcohol in my system.

"Honey, it's not Tylenol," She lowers her hand from her mouth, pressing her lips together tight. "It's MDMA."

"What?"

"Ecstasy," She corrects herself, making it easier for me to understand.

"WHAT?" My eyes go wide and my jaw drops "WHAT?" I repeat, running over to one of the nasty graffiti-covered stalls and kneeling in front of it, sticking my fingers down my throat to try and throw up to get it out of my system before it sets in. "Say something gross to make me throw up!"

"Uhh," Kayla stood behind me "Think of your dad getting off with your grandma!"

"EW!" I shout, turning to look at her with disgust on my face. "Why would you say that?"

"You told me to say something gross!"

"Not that!" I cry, slouching against the stall. I wish I had a time machine, I wouldn't just go back four hours, I would go back four years and make sure I play everything right. Maybe then I wouldn't be drunk and high in the bathroom of a dingy nightclub and I would still have Ellie.

"It's okay, honey, It's clean," Kayla walks closer to me, the heels of her boots clacking on the tile "I promise," She offers me a little rub on the shoulder "I promise I'll take good care of you tonight and make sure you're safe."

She was lying through her teeth, and just an hour later I was face down on the bar, lulling in and out of consciousness. That is the exact moment I started to think it wasn't clean like Kayla had said. My high didn't feel like what I was told rolling was like.

At first, I felt fine and then everything started to feel off. You know when you spin around a bunch super fast and your world spins under your feet? It was like that.

Before I retired to the bar, I tried to get back on the dancefloor just for my body to betray me and collapse onto the ground, people around me had stopped to watch me stagger back onto my feet and wordlessly stumble away.

After I lift my head off the spruce bartop and don't see Kayla anywhere in sight for the seventh time, I reach for my phone that I had stuffed into my bra and dial up Dina.

I hear the hum of the tone before it clicks and I hear her static voice on the other end. "Hello?" Her voice crackles.

"Dina, I'm on drugs."

"What?" I hear some shuffling in the background then what sounds like the click of a door "What drugs? are you okay?"

"I don't know," My voice drags out "Kayla took it out of her purse, said it was MMA and I'm not-" I hiccup "I'm not doing well."

"What the hell is MMA? Isn't that mixed martial arts?"

"Dina, I'm not doing martial arts, I'm doing drugs."

She sighs and I can feel her disappointment through the phone "Are you still at Monarch?"

"Yes."

"Hang on," Something shifts in the background.

"I'm kind of scared."

"Please just stay where you are-

"I love you, Dina."

"I lo- CLICK

My phone dies, and the screen turns black. I click some buttons for a moment to ensure that it's dead before I tuck it back into my bra and let myself lull back onto the bar, I rest my head on my arms and look at the displays of liquor surrounding me.

I lose track of the time that passes, in my head I am just about the win the 72nd Hunger Games, it's down to me and another tribute. There's an intense fight, I wind up underneath her and she presses a blade to my throat, I get a good look at her face and see Ellie but her face doesn't stay the same. It morphs through every version of her I had ever known. When we were seven, her grunge phase, when she let me do her makeup. This is when I give up, I know I don't have it in me to kill her so I lay limp and await my fate-

"Hey," A man sits next to me, his presence stood out effortlessly. With a strong, chiselled jawline and well-defined features, his face carried an air of that old-money elegance. His hazel eyes were softened by something (alcohol, probably), drawing others into their captivating gaze. Dark, tousled hair framed his face, adding an intriguing touch of ruggedness. He is clad in a white button-up and dress pants, I can well he's a blue-collar man just from the way he sits.

"What?" I squint my eyes at him.

"You're really pretty, I thought I would introduce myself," He smiles "I'm Emmet."

"Okay," I answer turning my attention to look ahead at the liquor display, watching the way the lights shone through them. Right now I don't care to make conversation, even if he looks like Henry Cavell, I'm fighting to stay awake.

One of his bulky hands reaches for my necklace, four of his fingers are beneath the cross, pressed against it while his thumb rubs it "You're religious."

I look down where he cradles my cross and try to jerk away but my body feels too heavy "Not anymore," I mutter. I put one of my hands over his to move it off me, he takes this as an invitation to hold my hand.

Emmet brings his head next to mine to whisper in my ear "So does that mean you're a good girl or a bad girl-

"It means she's leaving, actually," Ellie pushes him away abruptly, he looks taken aback while she doesn't give a shit. She begins to gingerly help me off the stool "Do you have everything?"

"Why are you here?" I ask "I called Abby."

"You called Dina and she's on the other side of town with her boyfriend so she sent me." Ellie slings one arm around me and I sink into her immediately.

"I hate you so much," I murmur under my breath.

"Yeah, I bet you do," She is gentle with me, she's treating me like I'm made of porcelain and I'll shatter at the slightest bit of harm.

Emmet looks crazily offended, his hands up in defence "Hey, we were having a conversation-

"Borderline harassment doesn't constitute a conversation." Ellie looks like she rolled out of bed, she is in her grey sweatpants and field hockey hoodie, her hair in the low ponytail she always wore to sleep. "Are you okay?" She asks, her tone shifting from harsh to soft.

"Mhm," I ball my fist up and rub my eye, smearing my mascara when I do so, I look down at my hand and see the remnants of my telescopic mascara and silver glitter smudged on it.

I am killing myself slowly and it is no crucifixion.

As Ellie helps me into the back seat of her car I feel like mold is growing on my bones just to way me down to the concrete where I will surely rot. "I don't write enough," I mumble "And I'm so lonely I'm searching for god everywhere but I can't find him."

Ellie gives me a little hum of acknowledgment her eyes briefly shooting to me in the rearview mirror before looking back to the road.

"Don't worry, I'm not in love with you anymore," I say nonchalantly as I'm sprawled out in her back seat, watching the light from neon signs pass us by.

"I didn't know you ever were." She says softly, hands on the steering wheel, she steals glances at me. The towering skyscrapers loomed like sentinels, their reflective glass surfaces capturing the myriad colours of neon signs that adorned the streets.

"I hate you," I add on. The mix of liquor and whatever drug Kayla gave me was doing me justice, I couldn't hold back any thought, they all fell from my lips in a jumbled mess. "I hope you die, I hope we both die." Ellie doesn't have anything to say to that. I think to myself that if I die in this moment, I would not be afraid, I would greet death like an old friend with a bright smile and warm hug. "I don't love anyone the way I love you," My head lulls against the window "And your girls, they all hate me."

"So which is it?" She asks, feeding into my tangent "Do you love me or do you hate me?"

"I-" I think about it for a brief moment "I hope if I killed myself everyone who was ever mean to me felt responsible." I look up slightly, using the car seats to help me steady myself "What are you doing?"

"I'm taking you home," She says, biting the inside of her cheek "What are you doing?"

"I'm waiting for god to call me back."

I ramble on and on, it's a miracle that she didn't stop at the side of the road and dump me onto a curb. The traffic lights painted the road in hues of red and green, and the city lights flickered like stars, helping us find our way home.

"Ellie," I say, a building up ahead catches my eyes "Ellie, pull over!" She thinks I'm going to throw up so she pulls her gray sedan over, as swiftly as possible. I stumble out of the car, my stiletto heel catches the ground in a weird way, my ankle goes sideways and I fall with it.

"Shit," Ellie rushes from the driver's seat to help me sit up straight. I use her as support to pull myself off the concrete sidewalk completely and walk towards the church up ahead like a zombie "Where are you going?"

"To clean myself from sin," I approach the church and force the heavy doors open; I knew for a fact even in my state that this church had its chapel open twenty-four hours from all of the Google pins my mom sent me when I first moved here.

The chapel's interior was bathed in a soft, ethereal moonlight that filtered through stained glass windows, casting a kaleidoscope of colours upon the polished wooden pews below.

Smooth, cool stone formed the foundation of the chapel. The high, arched ceilings reached towards the heavens, adorned with wooden beams that seemed to cradle the sacred space below. The acoustics, shaped by the architecture, lent an echo to the moonlight whisper as if the very walls absorbed and magnified the prayers of the faithful.

Rows of meticulously arranged pews lined either side of a central aisle, leading towards the altar bathed in a soft glow. Carved with intricate detail, the altar served as the focal point, adorned with candles, floral arrangements, and sacred symbols. The air was scented with the subtle fragrance of incense, a sensory companion to the spiritual journey within.

Throughout the chapel, unlit candles are spread throughout. Above the altar, a crucifix hung solemnly, a symbol of sacrifice and redemption. Rays of moonlight seemed to converge upon it, imbuing the sacred symbol with a profound sense of grace.

I try to compose myself the way you would a song or a speech and fall to my knees before the altar, clasping my hands together tightly. "My God, I am sorry for my sins with all my heart. In choosing to do wrong and failing to do good, I have sinned against you whom I should love above all things. I firmly intend, with your help, to do penance, to sin no more, and to avoid whatever leads me to sin. Our Savior Jesus Christ suffered and died for us. I wake young but feel as though my bones have resided on this earth for centuries."

I am at his altar but I don't feel him around me, where is his steady hand which used to guide me?

My hands grasp together even tighter "I am filthy, I'm disgusting," I choke out "I'm all used up and I need you to help me get better," I break my hands away from their position to wipe my eyes free of any oncoming tears before putting them right back "Fill me with your purity, I will be waterboarded by your sacred hand until holy water leaks from my pores."

Ellie hangs around by the entrance, sketched out by not only the creepy church but also my off-putting behaviour. She flinches at every shadow she sees, believing it to be a homeless person who was residing there for the night. I'm kneeling over in my sequin dress, one of the straps slips down my shoulder and my dress rides up, this is the most sinful I have ever been, synthetic sunshine coursing through my system.

"Make me love myself so I have room to love you," I feel so repulsive and dirty, soap and water won't make me feel clean so I'll try bleach and matches instead "I ask for Your mercy and grace to cleanse me from all unrighteousness. Create in me a clean heart, God, and renew a right spirit within me, return my family to my side."

I search for some sort of sign that he is watching over me.

Nothing.

No sign that he is here.

The priest at my old church in my hometown had said that without doubt there was no room for faith. It wasn't doubt, it was absolution, he is not here and so I unclasped my golden cross necklace and discarded it on the ground before the altar, never again will I be haunted by a man who has failed to ever show me mercy.

Ellie washes the grime off me with the detachable shower head. My hair is clipped up and I am hugging my knees, facing away from her in the bathtub. I feel a profound sense of shame and embarrassment all over again despite everything within me that is helping to take the edge off.

She holds the shower head but looks away to give me some false sense of dignity, I cried the whole way home from the church about being filthy but with how many times I had fallen over, she didn't want me to hit my head in the shower so we settled on this.

"I'm done," I mutter and right away Ellie turns the shower off and grabs my house robe from one of the hooks on the door, she holds it up and waits for me to stand, still averting her eyes. I stand slowly, gripping onto the rim of the tub for dear life. When I slip into it, Ellie helps me move out of the bathtub and into my bedroom.

She lifts me onto the bed and tucks me in beneath my satin duvet cover. Ellie leaves for a moment but when she returns she has a bowl in case I need to vomit, a class of water, a sleeve of saltines and a bottle of actual aspirin.

"Goodnight," She begins to shut the door but I stop her.

"Ellie?"

"Yeah?"

"Can you stay with me?" My voice breaks as I say it "Just for tonight, I don't want to be alone." Wordlessly, she shuts the door and comes around the right side of my bed; Ellie is careful keep her distance from me but unlike Christmas, we face each other. "I don't hate you." I tell her because that is all I could recall saying in the car ride.

"I know."

"Do you hate me?"

"Of course not."

I don’t think I’m a whole person anymore, I think I’m made up from a dozen different perceptions of me. This version of me, born that night was anything but pure.

I am unlovely, so please, hold me gently and do not wreck me any further.

A/N: The drinking age in Canada is nineteen! They go to school in the true north strong and free. Also one more part left to go 👀

Tag list!

@elliesaturnsoftdrink @elliesaesp @melanie-watermelon @yalaysbee @laundrybag29 @readbydayana @skylerwhitwyo @lmaoo-spiderman @joliettes @kittnii @taylorgracies @sameenatruther @mikellie @belles-hell

Sorry if I missed anyone!

506 notes · View notes

shurisneakers · 8 months

Text

unsolved (ii)

Summary: Bucky doesn't even believe in the paranormal. So who the hell thought it was a good idea to stick him in a series about everything haunted for the internet's amusement? With his loose-canon of a teammate who has no concept of subtlety or shits left to give, to make things even worse. (Buzzfeed unsolved AU)

Warnings: swearing, frustrated bucky at his little shit supreme, obnoxious reader, mentions of hauntings and the things that come with (body harm, priests, etc). images all have alt texts.

A/N: if you're familiar with the format of BuzzFeed unsolved videos, the pictures in this chapter make more sense. anyway we're starting small to warm up but i assure u there's like actual paranormal shit from next chapter onward <3 thank u for the chaotic response to chapter 1 ily guys sm ! as usual, please send me things you'd like to see in the series! it always make me so happy

Previous part || Series masterlist

Bucky loves the compound. The sentiment carries a lot, considering he’s made it a non-negotiable part of his personal brand to hate everything.

The lush landscape is quiet, spacious enough that he isn’t forced to run into anyone he’s actively avoiding, and has state-of-the art security that lets him sleep soundly, assured that no one will be able to get to his floor in an assassination attempt.

All of his deep love and fond admiration disappears when it’s the crackass of dawn and his oakwood door receives the beat down of a lifetime.

He snaps awake instantly, unsure of whether there was someone actually trying to kick the shit out of his door or it was just another nightmare that often blurred lines with reality.

But after the third deafeningly loud knock confirms it, he scrambles for a pair of pants just so that he isn’t caught entirely vulnerable.

The thrashing doesn’t cease, and by the time he makes his way to the door and yanks it open–

There’s no one on the other side.

Except a coffee cup on the ground and a note scribbled haphazardly on the side.

Shoot day. See you at the studio!

He stares wordlessly at the cup, unable to differentiate whether the feeling coursing through the very fibres of his being currently is pure blinding rage, or confusion that you apparently knew his coffee order.

The studio is fucking empty. If Bucky wasn’t still reeling from the effects of being startled awake by a fake intrusion at 5am, he’d have been over the damn moon.

He does his part as a man of honour and righteousness– calls out a very quiet ‘Hello?’ and then doesn’t bother feeling guilt when his heart explodes in joy at the lack of response.

He spins on his heel to march out, only to come to an abrupt stop when he almost runs into you. He didn’t even fucking hear you come in.

“Oh, hey.” You look at him, hand on a bagel. “You actually showed.”

Bucky’s smile falters, and he returns to his default Grinchian state.

“You made sure I fuckin’ did,” he grumbles. “How’d you get on my floor?”

“I have my ways.”

Bucky’s glare presses hard into you almost like a palpable entity.

“I did a gig as an escape artist for a while. Paid super well,” you dismiss.

He doesn’t blink once, trying to decipher whether you’re telling him the truth or not.

You offer him a bite from your bagel in return, seemingly having moved on from the conversation already.

“Where’s everyone else?” he asks, turning away from you.

“Maya didn’t actually think you’d show up on time so she told everyone to come an hour later.” You speak through a mostly full mouth. “I figured you could use the company.”

Bucky immediately feels defensive, as if that wasn’t exactly what he tried to do.

He grumbled all through the morning when he saw fifteen text reminders sent to him through the night telling him he had to shoot a video that day. He grumbled when he couldn’t use traffic as an excuse to not show up because the studio is two streets away from the compound. He grumbled when the toaster actually works for once. Everything is right in the world. This was, of course, devastating to him.

He finally shuts up when Sam gives him a piece of gum. Then he just glowers, but his jaw is otherwise occupied.

“She set you on me this morning?” Bucky questions, tone on the verge of being ticked.

You shake your head, swallowing before taking another bite. “No, that was social service.”

Bucky’s eye twitches.

“I’ll come back in an hour,” he mumbles, arms crossed over his chest.

You give him a look that lets him know you’re entirely unconvinced. “Will you?”

Well. No.

“I’m gonna look around the studio. You’re welcome to join,” you say instead, looking past him. “We’ll need to know where we’re working for the next few months.”

Few months? No no– few hours at max, if this were to go exactly his way.

“Video’s not gonna do numbers,” he reminds you in a dull utterance.

“With an enthusiasm like that, it’s hard to see why you’re not universally beloved, Barnes,” you comment seriously, before clapping his shoulder. “Come on. You ever look at yourself in a mirror? You’re gonna be a star, baby.”

Bucky, in his current chosen avatar, looks less 'man of the world' and more 'reject of the jungle’.

But the sentiment is appreciated.

The studio is moderately big.

You find joy in messing around with set pieces of the other Avengers video series that were being shot there. Bucky finds joy in locating every possible escape route within a three foot vicinity.

He’s admittedly surprised by learning how much actually goes into making a simple video. He just figured they’d stick a camera in his face and teleprompt him and get it over it.

You chat animatedly about the use of gimbals and different camera gear, lighting setups and sound quality.

“You into this stuff?” He raises an eyebrow.

“No, I just did a stunt as a wedding videographer once,” you wave off, “It was great. You could always tell which couples were gonna get divorced within a year.”

Something unrecognisable flashes in his eyes.

“Escape artist and wedding videographer,” he repeats.

You stop talking to look at him.

“Yes,” you say simply and go on to provide no further explanation.

If the morning’s antics weren’t enough, now he’s convinced you’re fucking with him.

“Anyway, they’ll probably stick us in makeup before we go on camera because it–”

“Makeup?”

“Well– yeah. For the video.” Your eyes dart toward him, sizing him up in a quick glance. “If you look any paler, you’d basically be translucent.”

Bucky can’t even debate it. His skin looks like it hasn't felt the gentle touch of a sunray in millennia.

“Just say it’s part of the theme.”

You snort. “The first ghost I hunt cannot be one who sits beside me.”

So Bucky gets his makeup done.

By the time the studio fills in, he’s already drunk two cups of the shitty breakroom coffee and found fifteen innocuous things to fashion into weaponry if things were to go awry.

The large bright lights force him to keep wiping beads of sweat away from his forehead. Everything exists in a contrarian state of frenzy, and coordinated down to the second as if it were a damn rocket launch. He’s already had three staff members dart about him cross checking if he’s hydrated and if he’s signed the right forms.

“Oh, you actually showed,” he hears for the second time from Maya, who doesn’t even make an attempt to hide the earnest surprise from her voice.

Bucky wants to scream.

“The team’s picked a really simple case since it’s the first video. You just need to read it out,” she explains breezily, switching from you to him, “and you need to react.”

You flash her a thumbs up. Bucky doesn’t move an inch. He’s convinced it’ll trigger another round of people meddling with his hair until it looks ‘sufficiently casual but not artificial’.

Maya hurriedly leaves after wishing you good luck, probably to fix the walking PR disaster that was Clint, who unceremoniously went live on his Instagram the night before after consuming something he procured from some guy in an alleyway, who described it as ‘carbonated milk’. Bucky watched it for a few seconds and immediately shut down the app when Clint offered to take one article of clothing off for every million people that tuned in.

“I asked for there to be as few people in the room as possible,” you whisper to him.

“Still a lot,” he replies under his breath, watching them buzz around him, still brushing up his face and dabbing at his hairline with a napkin.

Someone hands you a folder full of papers. “We lose any more and we’re filming this video ourselves.”

“All ready!” The camera guy, Shane, announces.

“Copy that,” you call back, before leaning forward in your chair, grinning. “Chill. I’m gonna do the talking. All you gotta do is say a few words and look pretty.”

That sounds…doable.

“Make it fast,” Bucky mutters, crossing his arms over his chest.

Whether he was talking about the video or his death is still up for debate.

“Recording in three…two…one–”

The whole studio waits with bated breath, but Bucky stares right ahead.

“When I said a ‘few words’, I did mean one or two, possibly more,” you talk through your smile.

Bucky continues looking into the camera like it stole his ancestral property.

You exhale, soldiering on, lips still upturned.

You look at Bucky, hopeful that he will at least answer a question. He doesn’t offer the same kindness, and now you understand why Maya reached out to you for this.

So you do what needs to be done, as a person with a responsibility to all these fine and tired souls gathered here on a weekend.

You kick him under the table.

The crew waits for Bucky to say more. He very pointedly doesn’t.

At least one sound has been procured from him, which is more than what they can say for some other videos.

You continue, “Our story takes place in 1954, in the quaint, rural town of Ravenswood. Irene–”

Bucky scoffs. “You made that up.”

Would now be a good time for him to bring up your previous job experiences you had dropped so casually or was this enough to let you know he was onto you?

Your eyebrows pull together, scanning over the sentence. “I haven't even said anything yet.”

“A horror story. Taking place in Raven’s Woods,” Bucky emphasises. “Really.”

Bitch.

“First of all, it’s Ravenswood, not Raven’s Woods,” you shoot back. “And it exists.”

“Where?” He raises an eyebrow.

“I don’t know– fuckin’ West Virginia?” You shuffle through the papers. “Does it matter? You wanna move there?”

Bucky doesn’t add anything further.

You observe him for a moment before deciding to continue.

“In the quiet town of Ravenswood,” you side eye him but he doesn’t look affected. “Irene Wendelin, a 35-year-old woman moved into a house on the outskirts to save up money. She lived alone, had no immediate relatives and worked as a secretary at the local press.”

Bucky continues chewing his gum. You’re not even sure he’s listening, but everyone got paid by the hour regardless of whether he did, so who gives a shit.

“Within a few weeks of moving in, strange incidents started to take place. Irene’s friend Thelma, who also worked as a secretary at the press, recalled how Irene developed a persistent cough, was constantly fatigued, and had issues sleeping due to her skin itching. Thelma suggested solutions from ointments to medication, but not one remedy that she provided seemed to work. As time went by, Irene’s symptoms escalated into severe respiratory problems, leaving her breathless just from climbing up a flight of stairs. She even reportedly started having hallucinations of people crawling around in her house in the dark, but she was never able to catch them in their entirety.”

“How long did this take?” Bucky questions out of the blue, arms still crossed over his chest.

“I think within a couple of weeks of moving in.” You try not to look too surprised. “Further, Thelma recalls Irene saying she heard strange sounds at night which kept her up. The only time the woman felt normal was when she left her house to stay with her cousins for a month.”

Bucky’s head snaps to you, eyes narrowing.

“What?” you challenge.

“Nothin’,” he says instead. “Go on.”

You cast a look at the crew, who look just as confused as you, but you continue regardless.

“Things escalated when one day, Irene showed up to work in complete disarray. Thelma says that upon a closer look, Irene had bite marks over her hands and legs. Thelma, a devout Christian, insisted on getting the place checked out by the church since all else had failed. Father Gabriel, a local priest, agreed to visit the house, but upon setting foot inside, claimed it was haunted by ‘forces of evil whose reality existed beyond mortal comprehension’. This was the last straw for Thelma, who had Irene move into her house until she found a new place to stay. Within a few weeks, Irene was back to normal, and the house is still considered one of the most haunted places in the country to this place, with no one allowed to enter.”

Bucky looks at his arms, jaw tightening.

Your eyebrow twitches.

You could see Maya shaking her head from across the room, entirely fucking defeated.

You wait a few seconds but receive no response. Bucky’s gaze doesn’t shift from the table top.

You start gathering the folder with the story in it, getting ready to read out your conclusion.

You stare at him, but he doesn’t look up at you.

Collectively, every spine in the room straightens.

“Asbestos?” you echo.

“Or mold. Could be either.” Bucky shrugs, chewing on the same stupid piece of gum that had lost its flavour hours ago.

You look at him in bewilderment, partly because you weren’t expecting him to say anything at all, much less this.

“Had an aunt once who thought she was possessed. Turns out her walls were full of mold.”

You stare at him. “You’re lying.”

He finally turns to you, no traces of humour on his face. “She got remarried and moved out. Good as new.”

“That doesn’t mean it’s asbestos.”

“Had the same symptoms an’ everything. Itchy skin, breathing problems, fatigue.”

“Hallucinations?”

“Stress. Being poisoned twenty-four hours a day’ll do a number on anyone.”

“And the bite marks?”

“You never had an itch so bad you just bit it?”

“On her legs?” you ask incredulously. “She bit her legs? Is that what you’re saying?”

Bucky shrugs.

You look like you’re going to lose your mind.

You clear your throat. “What about the priest?

Bucky snorts. “What ‘bout him?”

“'Forces of evil whose reality existed beyond mortal comprehension’?”

“Maybe it was her,” he fires back. “Maybe that's just how she was, how would you know?”

“You’re saying the forces of evil are just… her bad vibes?” you say it slowly, as if that would make it better.

“Maybe.” Bucky’s shoulders rise and drop again. “My aunt was a real stick in the mud too. I coulda called her a force’a evil when she didn’t let me fire a bottle rocket into the tree.”

You narrow your eyes at him. Bucky looks back innocently.

“You’re bullshitting.”

“About my aunt?” he scoffs. “I would never. Rest her soul. Made some damn good cranberry pie.”

You roll your eyes. “It’s not asbestos.”

“Then why was she fine every time she moved out?”

“Because the house was haunted.”

“By mold.”

Maya clears her throat, pointing to her watch.

You look back at her and clear your throat as well, shuffling around your papers.

“Right. So that’s it for this episode.”

The camera guy yells “Cut!’ and you turn to look at Bucky.

But he’s already gone.

The video goes up that weekend.

It takes a considerable amount of time to edit, considering they had to bleep out the steady stream of expletives that you didn’t even know Bucky was muttering under his breath, but got picked up by the mic anyway.

To Barnes (Work):

are you ready for your influencer era

He leaves you on seen. You think you’ll send him more memes of his stupid face.

To Barnes (Work):

influenza

Five hours since the video has gone up, and your phone starts buzzing more than usual. Nat’s already sent you a clearly AI generated article titled ‘Everything We Know About the Latest Avenger’, full of incorrect information and straight up lies.

The first reviews are promising. Sort of. The newest generation of kids on Twitter are saying shit and using terms that are beyond you, but it looks good. You think.

And then somewhere close to midnight, your phone chimes with a text from a number you hadn’t yet saved.

From unknown

Hey. Steve Rogers here. Great job on the video.

Your eyebrows shoot up, discarding your refreshing of the Subreddit that has popped up in your name.

From unknown

Just letting you know though– he was lying.

From unknown

He doesn’t have an aunt.

Motherfucker.

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing!

to keep up with updates for this fic and others, please follow @shurisneakersupdates and turn on post notifications!

Next part

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #mcu fic #bucky fic #bucky barnes fic #bucky fluff #bucky barnes fluff #bucky angst #bucky barnes angst #unsolved fic #winter soldier x reader #Winter Soldier #bucky barnes #bucky

440 notes · View notes

firelordsfirelady · 6 months

Text

IV. Outburst

Author: @firelordsfirelady

Imagine: When Y/N—a princess of one of the Water Tribes—is told she’s leaving her tribe, she never expects that she’s to be betrothed to the Fire Lord’s son, nor was she prepared to be exiled the very day she arrived at the Fire Nation. With her life in the hands of her new fiancée, how will life change for the princess?

Pairing: Zuko x F!Reader

Trigger warnings: arranged marriage, feelings of fear, banishment, mentions of burns/abuse, frustration, violence, betrayal

Word Count: 1167

Destined to be Yin and Yang

I own no rights to Avatar the Last Airbender or any of the characters/story.

Author’s Notes

The characters as all aged up so Zuko’s banishment happens when he’s 16

Keep in mind I am bringing a unique world with inspiration from ATLA in their characters, some of the events that happen, bending, etc. Not many things may align or occur with what happened in the show. It’s intended that way, so I hope you enjoy it regardless.

See Y/N’s inspiration here.

Destined to be Yin and Yang Soundtrack (YouTube)

Zuko made no mention of the cookies the next morning, but I anticipated as much from the Prince. The crew, however, raved about my cookies and were quite happy to hear that I would make them plenty of cookies during our time together. I kept my promise because every full moon I would make the crew a batch of cookies and then practice my water bending on the deck before heading to bed. Of course, I never let Zuko or Iroh be out of the cookie receiving as I would deliver their plates before going to bed.

Thus began my new daily routine of lending a hand in the kitchen or helping with the dishes. I often found myself aiding in other chores around the ship, which only served to aggravate Zuko more. Zuko always made sure to make remarks about how informal of a princess I was, so I made it my mission to find ways to annoy the Prince further. Let’s just say that I was very good at it.

The first time Zuko saw me mopping the deck, he made a snide comment that earned him an accidental flick of some water from the mop bucket.

“Forgive me, Prince Zuko,” I had teased him that day. “I am merely just a princess who doesn’t know how to handle the mop.” Iroh hid his small chuckle at my comment, knowing all too well that I was more than capable of handling the simple mop. I think he found it mildly amusing that I teased the Prince often, and this served to agitate the Fire Lord’s son further.

Despite the banter from Zuko, I had grown to enjoy life traveling around on a ship. As a young girl, I had dreamed of what it would be like to see the world outside of the Tribe, but I quickly realized that as the princess I would never have those opportunities. Especially since after the Avatar disappeared from the world a century ago, the nations decided to sequester away from each other to protect themselves.

With Zuko on the quest to find the Avatar, he has been researching the previous avatars. We have been to several Avatar shrines across the nations and have been frequenting the other Water Tribes. Zuko was sure that the next avatar would be a Waterbender, and so we stayed near in case the Avatar made his appearance. Each time Zuko got a hint or a tip that there was a chance of the Avatar appearing, the ship would speed to the new destination. Disappointment met Zuko at every new stop, and I felt my heart break more as I watched the hope slowly die from his eyes. Yet, at the next whisper of a sign from the Avatar, Zuko would begin the cycle all over again.

The months slowly turned into years, and Iroh and I met regularly to drink tea together. During our tea visits, Iroh would tell me stories of dragons and the origin stories of Firebending, and, in return, I shared the stories of the Water Nation and our origin. I enjoyed listening to Iroh’s great accomplishments and was glad that I had found a friend in Iroh.

While my friendship with Iroh grew, I could not say the same about my relationship with Zuko. Three years of the same routine with Zuko had begun to wear the hope in me down. I tried my best to make an effort with Zuko in hopes that we might be able to at least tolerate each other. I gave him cookies every full moon, and I offered information that I read at the shrines regarding the avatar that might help Zuko. I did get a small glimmer of hope when he stopped calling me an informal princess after the first six months of life on the ship. After two years, there was light banter between us that was somewhat jovial, but the banter was more teasing than anything else.

That all changed today when Zuko had met another dead end in his search for the Avatar. Once we arrived back at the boat, Zuko’s anger was palpable as he stalked on to the deck. Iroh’s face was a look of concern as he watched Zuko clench and unclench his fists. I chewed my bottom lip as I slowly walked onto the deck behind Iroh, who shared a concerned look with me. My heart increased its pace in my chest as I opened my mouth to say something to the Prince.

“Zuko—“ I started, but Zuko whipped around on his heel and his golden eyes were bright with rage.

“You don’t get the right to call me Zuko.” He snapped in anger. “You’re a good-for-nothing princess who doesn’t understand her place.” My breath hitched as I prepared myself for whatever else he was about to say. “I can understand why my father wants me to find the Avatar, but I can’t begin to wrap my head around why the hell he wants me to marry you.”

“You’re prancing around this ship like it’s a vacation home. Cooking with the crew, cleaning the decks, and not to mention you’re waterbending during the full moon.“ Keeping my face straight, I felt hurt cloud my heart as Zuko spoke his next words with so much hate. “You make cookies to compensate for what you lack as a person. You’re a pathetic excuse for a princess, and I hate that you’re my betrothed.”

Zuko was breathing heavily as he finished his rant, and I swallowed the lump in my throat in a pathetic excuse to calm the tears forming in my eyes. Silence fell upon the entire boat as I composed myself. Part of me wanted to scream at him that he wasn’t the only one suffering here. A tiny part of me wanted to wrap him in a cocoon of ice and then walk away. Another part of me wanted to hug him because I could see he was frustrated, and I was the only person who he was set on taking his anger upon.

I did none of those things as I shook my head and walked away. His words cut me deep, but I refused to let him see the tears that silently fell from my eyes as I made haste to my bedroom. Once behind the security of the closed door, I let the tsunami wave of tears flow as I cried into my pillow.

After a few hours of crying, I lay in bed and I stared at the ceiling. My eyes were no doubt red and puffy from the amount of crying I had done. Though my eyes burned, I could not tempt my body into a thoughtless slumber. So, instead of sleeping, I got up from bed and lit the oil lamp on my desk. I grabbed some blank pieces of paper and a pencil then began doing the one thing that would distract me the most right now: draw.

Tag List @chevysstuffs @puttyly @ginger24880 @night-fall-moon @hypnoticbeing

#avatar imagine #zuko imagine #zuko x reader #avatar the last airbender #prince zuko #destined to be yin and yang

303 notes · View notes