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amiableness · 2 months ago

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Peonies ; part four

Pairing: Theo Nott x Fem!Reader

Summary: Mattheo is in an awful mood after the party while Theo takes reader to the peony field.

Word Count: 4772

Warnings: Unrequited love & Mattheo and Theo get into it. Reader overthinks for a little bit. Mentions of drugging? One mention of Y/n. Let me know if there’s more!

A/N 💌 I can't tell you how nervous I am to post this, I feel like it's not my best work. But regardless, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter. As usual thank you to @moonpascal for reading, helping me with ideas, and just providing support and comfort. I love you endlessly!

SERIES MASTERLIST <3

“Did something happen last night between you and Mattheo?” Pansy asks, throwing the door open with an expectant look. Despite your low mood, you can’t help but crack a tiny smile at the sight of her—hair a tousled mess, mascara smudged beneath her eyes. She’s the perfect picture of someone who had way too much fun last night.

“Is there any particular reason you’re asking?” You reply cautiously, eyes following her as she saunters over and slips into bed beside you. She gives the blanket a hard tug, leaving you to huff in irritation when she claims more than her fair share.

“Because I heard him and Veronica fighting. I didn’t catch much, but I did hear your name.” Pansy looks you over, taking in your rumpled clothes and tired eyes. You’re not in much better shape than she is, and she can’t tell if it’s the lingering effects of last night’s drinks or the aftermath of whatever happened with Mattheo.

“Merlin,” you sigh, rolling your eyes and sinking deeper into the warmth of your bed. You haven’t moved since Theo left about twenty minutes ago, and you’re not sure if you’ll find the energy to do so anytime soon. Honestly, the idea of staying curled up here is more tempting than you’d like to admit. “We got into it again last night.”

“Again?” Pansy raises an eyebrow, shifting to face you.

“Apparently, he does care.” Your voice is dripping with sarcasm and frustration.

“He told you that?” Pansy shifts so quickly it’s as if you’ve shocked her. Both of you know very well that Mattheo isn’t the type to open up about what he’s feeling. Years of watching him around his parents taught you why—with how many times you had seen them scold him for even a flicker of emotion, it was no wonder he kept everything locked up.

You sigh, staring up at the ceiling, “He said he wanted me to admit I have feelings for him too.” Pansy’s eyes widen, her mouth falling open as she stares at you in disbelief.

“Feeling for him too?” She echoes, and you finally turn to meet her eyes with a weak nod. Your best friend sits there for a moment, studying your face carefully before choosing her next words. She knows she has a nasty habit of saying the first thing on her mind without considering that it might not be what you need to hear.

Pansy sits up, grabbing the pillow she was using and hugging it to her chest as she stares at you impatiently. She’s waiting to hear if you’ve finally told the boy you’ve been head over heels for, for years, that you like him too. “Well? Did you?”

“I couldn’t do it.”

“Please, tell me it’s for the reason I’m thinking.” She all but begs, her eyes wide with hope.

You let out a weary sigh. “I don’t know when I stopped having feelings for him, Pans. I didn’t even realize I’d lost them until he asked me to tell him I felt the same, and there was just...”

“Just..?” Pansy prompts gently.

A pause hangs between you as you search for the right words.

You hardly slept last night; your mind raced with thoughts of the past few months, trying to pinpoint when and how your feelings faded so quietly. You had liked Mattheo for so long, even convinced yourself that maybe you even loved him.But how could you truly love someone who was so closed off? Sure, he turned to you when he was struggling, but that didn’t mean he ever shared what he was feeling. He liked your presence and relied on you to be there whenever he needed support, but he never trusted you enough to truly let you in.

Not in the way you wanted, at least.

If he wasn’t comfortable with his own emotions, there was no way he would be able to handle yours. Maybe that was the heart of it—the realization that he would never fully open up to you, and that had kept you from falling in love with him. And maybe that was the best thing that could have happened, no matter how painful or uncomfortable it was to come to terms with at the beginning.

Then there was Theo. Who had promised to help you get over Mattheo, and from that moment on, he was there for you without hesitation. He held your hand whenever you needed it, and honestly, you had begun to lean on him a bit too much—being close to him had become your favorite feeling. He never made it feel like supporting you was a chore; instead, he made it seem like something he had always longed to do.

In truth, everything had changed for you. Spending time with Theo was no longer just a way to distract yourself from Mattheo; it became where you wanted to be. Being around him made you feel safe and accepted in a way you hadn’t realized you craved.

And that was absolutely terrifying.

You sit up abruptly, fully facing Pansy, “When you said that you thought Theo would give me everything if I let him, did you mean that?”

“Babes,” she begins, sending you a soft smile. “I’ve always thought you would be good for Mattheo. You bring something out in him; he’s happiest when he’s around you. Veronica seemed to make him happy at first—” she adds with a snort—“but nowhere near the level you do.”

“But with Theo…” Pansy trails off. “I’ve never seen you so happy—and not the kind of happy you were with Mattheo. It’s not the relief of him not having a one-night stand or flirting with you a bit bolder at a party. It’s genuine happiness; you’re truly yourself. Theo brings out a different side of you, and you do that for him, too.”

Glancing over at the vase of red peonies, battling the tightness in your throat and the sting in your eyes. You decide you’d rather not spend the day in bed.

.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.

Since last night, Theo has been struggling to push away the thought that maybe the idea of you having feelings for him isn’t so far-fetched. Especially after you’d implied that the two of you were together to the girl who’d tried to flirt with him. The way you’d intertwined your fingers with his, staking a silent claim that he was off-limits, had left him reeling. There was no way you’d be so possessive if you didn’t feel the same. At least, that’s what he’d been telling himself all morning.

And then there was the way you hadn’t been able to answer Mattheo about your feelings. Theo’s whole heart had been in his throat as he waited for you to tell Mattheo that you did have feelings for him, that you’d had them for years. But you hadn’t answered.

In a way, though, you had, hadn’t you? You’d pushed past Mattheo without a word and gone straight to him.

“Are you coming with us to Hogsmeade or not?” Enzo nudges Theo, pulling him out of his thoughts. The boys had all planned to go to Hogsmeade together this weekend, a plan set firmly in stone since last weekend. But when Theo saw you this morning, he couldn’t hold back. On impulse, he asked if you wanted to spend some time together, suggesting—almost shyly—that he could finally show you where he’d been getting the peonies.

“No, I’ve got plans.” Theo shrugs, and Draco sends him an irritated look from the opposite couch.

“We made plans.” Draco huffs, clearly agitated with the change. He always hated it when the boys ditched at the last second.

“Something came up.” Theo sighs, hoping that he’ll let it go quickly. He’s well aware that Mattheo should be coming down the stairs at any second. Enzo had told them that he was taking forever to get ready, probably hungover from last night.

“You mean your girl.” Blaise corrects, and Draco looks disgusted. His head swings back to look at Theo.

“You’re ditching us for her? Mate, that’s pathetic.” Draco scoffs. “She isn’t even your girlfriend.”

“She’s pretty damn close.” Blaise points out, and Theo tries his best to ignore the feeling that jolts through him when he thinks of you as his girlfriend.

He doesn’t have a chance to say anything—not that he would have—before Mattheo walks over to join the group. He claps a hand on Draco’s shoulder, only for Draco to shrug him off irritably. “C’mon,” Mattheo says, his tone leaving no room for argument.

As the others rise, stretching and adjusting their robes, Theo remains seated, gaze fixed on the fireplace in front of him. Mattheo pauses, giving him a puzzled look, one brow lifting in question. “You’re not coming?”

“No.” Theo answers curtly, clearly uninterested in extending the conversation. The truth is, he hasn’t spoken to Mattheo in quite a while, and when they do, it’s nothing but tension—a quiet frustration simmering beneath each exchange.

Mattheo’s curiosity sharpens. “Why not?”

“He’s got plans with his girl,” Draco interjects with a roll of his eyes, impatience seeping into his voice. “Now, can we go? We’ve waited long enough for you as it is.”

“Wait. Hold on,” Mattheo turns to face him fully, and Draco huffs when he realizes they’re not going to be leaving any time soon. “Your girl?”

“You know what he means.” Blaise interjects calmly, his eyes shifting to Mattheo as he watches tension coil through his stance.

Mattheo gives a casual shrug, though his jaw tightens. “No, Blaise, I really don’t.”

Theo huffs, rolling his eyes as he stands, making to push past. “Why the hell do you even care?”

Mattheo’s hand snaps out, stopping him mid-step. “You know why I care.”

Theo’s gaze darkens, voice low. “Oh, you mean because of your feelings for her?” He shakes his head in disbelief. “Does your girlfriend know that you told Y/n you’ve always liked her?”

Theo’s eyes flicker over Mattheo’s shoulder, catching the shared looks between Blaise, Enzo, and Draco. There’s no shock in their expressions—only a knowing look as if they’d been bracing for this moment all along. It’s unsettling, the way they seem almost resigned, like they’ve seen the tension building between him and Mattheo from a mile away.

Mattheo scoffs, an edge of irritation slipping into his voice. “Did she go and tell you everything I said?”

Theo raises a brow, “No, I overheard you. But even if she did, what does it matter to you?”

Matteo narrows his eyes, “Because I care about her.”

“Bullshit. If you cared about her, you wouldn’t have put her in that position last night.”

“I care about her more than you think.” Mattheo bites out, and the boys watch carefully as Mattheo takes another step forward.

“Right,” Theo scoffs, “You care so much you went and found yourself another girl.”

Theo sees it before Mattheo even speaks—the subtle shift in his expression, the tightening of his jaw, the flicker of defensiveness flashing in his eyes. “I wasn’t ready to—”

“So you weren’t ready for her? But you were for Veronica? I don’t get it. You can’t just expect her to always be there when you finally figure out what you want.”

Mattheo laughs in disbelief, “I wasn’t waiting, I—”

“Then what the hell were you doing?” Theo’s voice sharpens. “You had years to tell her how you felt, and you didn’t say anything. Then you get a girlfriend, she starts spending time with me, and all of a sudden, you care? Leave her alone and quit messing with her.”

“I’m not fucking messing with her—”

“You are. You’ve been doing it for years.” Theo’s eyes flash with frustration, and suddenly he feels the urge to make it clear that he wants you—that he always has, and Mattheo isn’t the only one. “She deserves better than someone who can’t make up their mind. She deserves to be someone’s first choice.”

Mattheo’s expression hardens and his tone drops. “And that’s you?”

Theo doesn’t have the chance to answer, because Veronica’s shriek causes both their heads to snap in her direction, “Matty!”

Theo watches as Mattheo steps back, anger giving way to frustration, a quiet curse slipping from his lips at the sight of his girlfriend. Veronica strides forward, pushing right past Blaise and Enzo without a second glance. Blaise shoots her an agitated look, irritation flashing in his eyes as she barrels through.

“I thought you said you guys were going to Hogsmeade.” Veronica smiles, reaching out to take Mattheo’s hand, but he subtly pulls away, dodging her touch with a flicker of impatience in his eyes.

“We are.” He grumbles under his breath, but Veronica keeps smiling sweetly, unfazed, as if her boyfriend hadn’t just blatantly brushed off her attempt to hold his hand. Mattheo turns to leave, muttering something to the boys, likely a brief comment about their plans.

Theo watches as an agitated Mattheo strides out of the common room, with the boys trailing behind him. But the boys glance back at Theo, their expressions a mix of caution and confusion. Theo turns to leave as well, but Veronica’s voice stops him, soft and pointed, just loud enough for him to hear.

“You should tell your girlfriend that last night was a mistake,” she murmurs, a sympathetic smile tugging at her lips. “Mattheo thought she was me; you know how he gets after a few too many drinks.”

Theo thinks about correcting her, letting her know that he doesn’t really know what she means at all. From what he saw last night, Mattheo was tipsy—not that drunk—and Theo has had enough years of experience to tell the difference. But instead, he shrugs it off, deciding he’d rather find you than spend any more time in the common room.

.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.

“Hogsmeade is that way.” You say, a bit confused, gesturing in the opposite direction as you walk beside Theo.

“I know.” He replies simply, his gaze flickering back to the trail that you’ve never gone down before. Honestly, you had no idea it even existed. It’s evident that this path isn’t used often, as moss and grass have claimed most of the walkway. Vibrant wildflowers dot the sides, their colors brightening the greenery around them.

He’s been quiet for most of the walk, which feels strange; you’re not used to this side of him. The more time you’ve spent with Theo, the more he’s opened up—sharing memories of his late mum, the weight of his father’s expectations, and his hopes for the future. These walks, where you slowly unravel each other’s stories, have become your thing, something that only the two of you share.

You frown slightly, glancing at him as you try to piece it together. “But I thought you said you got the flowers from a shop.”

“I never said that.” Theo’s lips curve into that soft, gentle smile that never fails to send your stomach into a flutter. “I said I’d take you with me the next time I went to get some. I never said it was in Hogsmeade.”

It takes you a second, too enamored with the view in front of you for it all to click. The walk isn’t long, but as you continue down the path, you spot a patch of red ahead. It stands out against the greenery, a cluster of flowers blooming a pretty, vibrant hue. You can’t quite tell what kind they are, but when you glance at Theo, you notice the way his eyes flicker nervously, and it suddenly feels like you’re walking toward something important.

But then it hits you all at once: “They’re peonies.”

On instinct, you grab Theo’s hand, giving it a playful tug to urge him along toward the blooms. He lets out a soft laugh at your enthusiasm, and a warmth fills you as his earlier mood seems to lift, the tension in his shoulders fading.

When you reach the edge of the flower field, you pause, still holding Theo’s hand as your gaze lingers over the vibrant blooms stretching out before you. Theo glances at you, heart beating a little faster as he wonders what you’re thinking, but he brushes aside his nerves and releases your hand, shrugging off his jacket to lay it carefully on the ground. You murmur to him, urging him not to squish any of the flowers, and Theo smiles, his expression softening as he gently reassures you that he won’t.

There isn’t much room on his jacket, so you find yourself pressed against Theo’s side—though you don’t mind in the slightest. He’s leaned back on his hands, while you sit cross-legged beside him.

The quiet is soothing, broken only by the soft chatter of birds and the occasional hum of an insect drifting from flower to flower. The warmth of the sun on your skin feels heavenly, its heat a welcome contrast to the long, cold months that have passed.

“Is this why you left? The first night you stayed with me?” You ask, glancing to the right to watch his reaction.

From where you’re seated, you can see how the sunlight catches every small detail of his face, highlighting any imperfections. There’s the faint mole on his cheekbone, his dark lashes that you’re secretly jealous of, and the thin scar along his chin from when he fell off his broom as a kid. Another mark splits through his brow—a scar whose origin he could never quite remember, but has always just been there. It tugs at you, knowing you can recall the origins of his faded scars. It might seem trivial, but it means he’s let you in, sharing parts of himself that not everyone gets to see.

Theo nods, “I had to go early in the morning to give them to Pansy. With practice later, it was the only chance I could.”

A smile creeps onto your face as you imagine Theo, slightly awkward but determined, handing over the bundle of flowers and the little card to Pansy, who no doubt teased him relentlessly. You’d had wondered how she noticed that Theo was different with you, especially when most of your time together was just the two of you. But now, hearing this, you understand perfectly how she recognized a side of him that only seems to surface around you.

“I didn’t want to leave, y’know.” Theo continues, finally glancing over at you, and the effect is instant—those watercolor eyes meet yours, sending a flutter through your stomach as you instinctively lean closer, feeling yourself melt into his side.

“The flowers made up for it,” you tease, a soft smile tugging at your lips. “Aside from you, they were the only thing that made me feel better.”

“Yeah?” Theo glances down at you, tucked into his side, a satisfied smile tugging at his lips. Hearing you say the flowers meant something to you eases any nerves he had—because they were never just a way to cheer you up. They were his quiet, unspoken way of telling you that he was there, that he cared. And that, despite your feelings for Mattheo, he was an option too.

“Yeah.” You confirm.

For the rest of the afternoon, you and Theo sat together, talking about whatever came to mind as you picked flowers. You gathered a few, but mostly you watched as Theo picked the ones he liked the most, adding to the small bundle that sat between you both. Watching him carefully select the prettiest flowers, knowing he was going to give them to you, made something shift inside you. If you hadn’t fully realized your feelings before, you were certain of them now.

You lost track of time with Theo, but eventually, he had to leave for practice. He handed you the freshly picked flowers and walked you back to the castle, stalling as if reluctant to say goodbye. In the end, you pressed a soft kiss to his cheek and murmured a quiet ‘thank you.’ You didn’t want to say goodbye either, but you couldn’t bring yourself to be the reason Theo might get into trouble.

It wasn’t until you got back to your dorm, leaning against the door with a giddy squeal, the flowers pressed to your chest, their scent lingering in the air, that the realization hit you. You should’ve kissed him. The thought made your stomach dip with excitement, and for a fleeting moment, you entertained the idea of running after him, catching him just before practice, and kissing him. Absentmindedly, your hand rises to trace your lips, lost in your racing thoughts.

You’re so caught up in the moment that you don’t notice Pansy at her desk, watching you with an amused look.

“You look like you had a good time.” Pansy smirks as you startle and send her a look before pushing away from the door.

“Pansy, I’m fucked.” You whine and she lets out a loud laugh.

“You were from the second he stayed the night with you.” You pause for a moment, letting the realization settle in, and as it does, you know she’s right. You couldn’t remember the last time you felt so safe with someone—not in the way you did that night. Sure, you felt safe with Mattheo, but it wasn’t the same. It didn’t compare to the way you felt when you were with Theo.

“Did you know he’s been picking me flowers?” You ask instead, setting the new bundle onto your desk before turning to face Pansy.

“Oh, I knew.” Pansy hums, a knowing smile tugging at her lips.

“How did I not notice?” You wonder aloud.

“You were a little distracted.” Pansy shrugs, and you nod in agreement.

After Pansy tells you she’s meeting Blaise after practice, you briefly wonder if you should go with her. You sit on your bed, lost in thought, weighing the decision, but before you can make up your mind, Pansy is already gone.

As much as you want to see Theo, you hesitate, not wanting to assume that today meant as much to him as it did for you. It’s clear from the fact he’s been picking you flowers that he has feelings for you, but you don’t want to get ahead of yourself or risk ruining something before it has a chance to begin. So, you stay in your dorm, trying to focus on an assignment you’ve been putting off for far too long, though your mind keeps drifting back to him.

So when you hear the knock, your heart skips a beat, and before you can think, you’re off your bed and rushing to the door. You know exactly who is on the other side and your stomach flutters in anticipation. You pause just before opening it, taking a deep breath to calm the flutter of nerves in your stomach, willing yourself to appear composed.

You pull the door open, forcing a casual smile as you try to sound unaffected. “Hi,” you say, though your voice betrays the excitement simmering just beneath the surface.

Theo stands in front of you, one hand holding onto the doorframe. His hair is a tousled mess, and his cheeks are flushed—whether from practice or the rush of seemingly running here, you can’t quite tell.

And when he looks up at you, he’s out of breath and looks downright impatient, “I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?” You pause, thrown off and completely caught off guard. That was not what you expected him to say, and your mind spirals into the worst possible conclusions. Was he regretting what happened earlier? Apologizing for showing you the flowers, or for picking some for you? Giving you flowers at all? Maybe his feelings for you weren’t strong enough, or perhaps he only thought he had them? The thought that it could be too soon after your feelings for Mattheo crossed your mind, even though you’d started moving on from him months ago, gnaws at you.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats, releasing the doorframe and stepping forward, one step, then another. He pauses, giving you a moment to pull away if you need to, but you stay rooted to the spot, unable to move. Theo stands so close now that you have to tilt your head back slightly to meet his gaze. He reaches up, and your breath catches when his thumb gently brushes against your cheek, his hand settling just below your ear. His voice is quiet, but the weight of his words makes your heart stutter. “I should’ve kissed you, dolcezza.”

He doesn’t give you a chance to respond, his thumb tracing slow, deliberate circles on your skin as he steps even closer, his breath warm against your cheek. His words tumble out in a rush, desperate and raw. “All through practice, all I could think about was you. The moment I walked away, I just wanted to turn around and kiss you.” His voice drops to a whisper, low and thick with a longing that sends shivers down your spine.

You murmur his name softly, but he’s barely listening, his gaze intense as he leans in slightly, his lips just inches from yours. “Fuck, you’ve been on my mind for months—years, if I’m being honest. I feel like I’m losing my mind, wondering if you feel even a fraction of what I do.” His hand still lingers at your cheek, his thumb brushing against your skin, the warmth of his touch sending a tremor through you as if he’s waiting for something—waiting for you to say what he’s too afraid to ask.

It’s you who closes the distance, your lips meeting his in a sudden, fervent kiss that catches him off guard, pulling a surprised moan from deep in his throat. His body reacts instantly, his free hand snaking around your waist, pulling you closer, pressing you against him. The sound he makes causes a rush of warmth to flood your veins. He’s hardly touched, and you’re already too warm, and your knees threaten to buckle beneath you. You let him guide you backward, the pressure of his hand firm against your back until your steps falter just inside your dorm. Every inch of him feels like fire against your skin, and your previous worries fade into nothing.

Once you’re inside, he kicks the door closed with a thud but the sound barely registers. Without any hesitation, he presses you back against the door, his body close enough that you can feel the heat radiating off him. But you want him closer. Somuch closer. One hand rests flat against the door beside your head, while the other cups your cheek, his thumb brushing gently over your skin. Then, it’s him who leans in, his lips meeting yours in a slow, deliberate kiss that deepens with an aching intensity. There’s no rush now—just an overwhelming wave of longing, a perfect culmination of the emotions you’ve both held back. Your head spins, your heart races, and you’re certain that if you could take your temperature in this moment, it would be burning hot.

But then, slowly, he pulls back just enough to break the kiss, his breath heavy and uneven. His forehead rests against yours for a moment, both of you struggling to catch your breath. You feel the urge to close the distance between you again, to press your lips to his, because there’s something about the way Theo kisses that leaves you breathless, already craving more. But then again, maybe it’s just him—the way his touch makes a thrill course through you.

“I wanted you to kiss me before you left—”

The door jolts against your back, halting you mid-sentence as Pansy’s voice cuts through the moment. “What the hell? Open the door.” You hold your breath, hoping that if you stay silent, she might forget the whole thing and simply go away.

But that’s wishful thinking: “Babes. Please open the door.”

“I thought you were hanging out with Blaise.” You call back, stealing a glance at Theo, whose expression mirrors your own surprise. Before leaving practice, he’d told Blaise to keep Pansy distracted—he wanted time with you because he had planned on telling you exactly how he felt about you.

“It’s about Mattheo.” Your brows raise is surprise at the intensity in Pansy’s voice and you fling open the door without another thought.

“What’s wrong?” Theo stands behind you, watching the way your face turns nervous.

��Veronica’s been giving him a love potion,” she says softly, her eyes studying your face as it twists in disbelief. “He’s in the infirmary... and he’s asking for you.”

please please please consider reblogging or leaving a comment! it keeps me motivated to write, and reblogs help to spread my work 🤍

495 notes · View notes

ba9go · 5 months ago

Note

Hey!!! I was wondering if you could write about reader still having really bad nightmares of katsuki’s death? With some comfort from him and whatnot. Maybe when he finally wakes up again too? Completely up to you! 🫶

(I keep seeing it on my fyp on tiktok and it has me sobbing.)

having nightmares about losing katsuki (again)

WARNING: REFERENCES TO MAJOR SPOILERS, EXPLICIT MENTION OF CHARACTER DEATH UNDER THE CUT

hurt/comfort; reader has really bad nightmares about losing katsuki again. fem reader (katsuki calls u his strong girl once at the very end!)

ever since katsuki woke up, you've been having the same nightmare for weeks.

the first time it happened, you woke up gasping for air, chest tight and heart pounding. your eyes were wide open, but you could barely see anything in the pitch black darkness. still, you whipped your head to the side, and you sigh quietly.

you could barely make out the head of blonde hair next to you. though you could barely see katsuki, you could definitely feel katsuki. his warm body was pressed up against yours. one strong arm wrapped around your waist, and the other tucked under your neck.

katsuki's here.

katsuki stirs slightly from your sudden jostling, and you can barely make out the frown that creases between his brows. you don't notice it but you hold your breath until his face relaxes again and he falls back into his peaceful slumber.

it took you a while to fall back asleep, and you didn't tell katsuki about your nightmare when you both woke up the next morning.

the nightmares persisted for weeks. it sucked, but at least it wasn't nearly as bad as when katsuki had actually been dead. you could hardly sleep during that period, spending most of your nights crying and sobbing instead. any wink of sleep you got was probably from you blacking out of sheer exhaustion.

you told yourself that it wasn't that bad. after all, katsuki's here and alive, isn't he? surely, the nightmares would go away.

but they didn't. it wasn't every night that you had nightmares, it wasn't even the same nightmare most of the time. sometimes, you'd dream of fighting shigaraki alongside katsuki until katsuki puts his own life on the line to save yourself, and you'd wake up broken and guilt-ridden. sometimes, you'd dream of not being next to katsuki in his final moments.

but one thing was constant in all of your nightmares — katsuki didn't wake up.

thankfully, katsuki doesn't seem to catch on to your nightly afflictions. he stirs on some nights where you wake up crying, but you've always managed to stifle your sobs just enough to make sure he wouldn't actually wake up.

katsuki does, however, notice your puffy, red eyes and stuffy nose the mornings after.

"allergies, huh?" katsuki huffed, grabbing your hand and placing a couple of pills on your palm.

"oh, um, yeah." you don't dare to meet katsuki's gaze. you feel like you'd crack instantly and tell him about everything. "allergies."

at some point, the nightmares stopped being just nightmares. your thoughts and fears of losing katsuki started haunting even during the day.

katsuki finishes whipping up breakfast, placing your plates on the table. you do your best to smile and thank him for the food when he sits down in front of you, but your eyes end up drifting to the scar on his face.

katsuki cocks his head to the side, raising a hand to touch his scar lightly. "what, ya think m'ugly or somethin'?"

your eyes widen and you shake your head vehemently. "no, no, no, of course not! i would nev—"

"then what's botherin' ya?" katsuki pushes his plate slightly over to the side to let you know that he's fully invested in this conversation and will not resume breakfast until this conversation is had.

"what do you mean?" you try your luck anyway.

"m'not messin' around, y/n," katsuki frowns, but the look in his eyes tells you he's more worried than upset with you. "c'mon."

"i..." you started fidgeting with your hands under the table. "i've been having nightmares. about you, i mean." your eyes start to tear up as soon as you finish your sentence, and katsuki's getting up and by your side in an instant.

"darlin'," katsuki starts as he crouches down next to your chair. he takes your hands gently in his and starts tracing little circles with his thumbs. "for how long?"

"i dunno. been a few weeks."

"weeks?" katsuki echoes, and you wince. "baby, why didn't ya tell me?"

"didn't wanna burden you. i thought i was bein' silly. i mean, you're here. my brain's just—"

"scared, yeah?" katsuki finishes for you. he cups your cheek softly and looks at you so lovingly, so knowingly. of course katsuki would understand. tears streak down your cheeks, and you start to wonder why you ever thought you'd have to hide such a thing from him.

"yeah," you whispered, resting your cheek against his palm and squeezing your eyes shut. "m'sorry. i get it now. i won't hide things anymore."

katsuki wipes your tears away with calloused, soft hands, and you feel him lean in to press a soft kiss against your lips.

"that's my strong girl."

you break down completely, and katsuki holds you in steady arms and lets you cry into his shoulder, patting your head and whispering sweet nothings to you.

"m'not goin' anywhere, you got that? went through all of that to get back to you. m'here now. ya ain't gotta worry no more, alright? i've got you."

thank you so much for the request!! 🌷 i hope i did it justice hahdhwjds and sorry for the inactivity, life has been kinda hectic recently. i hope everyone's doing well :))

taglist (thank you for your support!!): @anicaaa67 @maddietries @nemisimp @an-na-bella @valeriyaaak @buggie07 @v3n7s @deimosjay @iguanahykhv @zaiban2989 @girls-overflower @notmeduhh @dreamcastgirl99 @yoyolovesdaiki @busdriver-move-that-ass @atashiboba @kathsuhki @armeenix @channnee @antiwhores @sukunasbottomlefteyeball @kenqki @vikizzy

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daddyhausen · 4 months ago

Note

Roman fingers his girl until shes sobbing and begging him to stop but he wants to make her squirt multiple times.

｡･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡「 FINGERING HEADCANNONS 」｡･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡

｡･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡｡･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡｡･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡｡･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡｡･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡

「 MASTERLISTS 」 | 「 WWE MASTERLIST」 | 「 ROMAN REIGNS MASTERLIST 」

「 COMMISION INFO 」 | 「 LIKE MY WORK? BUY ME A COFFEE — KOFI — DXDDYHXUSEN 」

｡･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡｡･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡｡･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡｡･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡｡･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡

「 SUMMARY 」 — fingering headcannons w/ roman

「 WARNINGS 」 — 18+ [ MINORS DNI ] smut, fingering, female orgasm, multiple orgasms, squirting

「 WORD COUNT 」 — 278

「 PAIRING 」 — fem!reader x roman reigns

「 GENRE 」 — smut

｡･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡｡･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡｡･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡｡･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡｡･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡

「 TAGLIST 」 — @thewrestlingbitch @omg-im-such-a-masochist @mjfass @sammiejane22 @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @omegasluvbot @melissahausen @writtingrose @drummergrl1310 @unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin @janetreader @bonehead-playz @legit9thlunaticwarrior @crowleysqueenofhell @romanreigns-supreme @thenerdybaker523 @sunshinevirus @nicoleveno14 @rubyred1980 @harmshake @igncrxntripley @ripleyswhore @embermdk @thepalaceofmelanie @seeingstarks @kennysbadkitten @darkangelchronicles @selena-tyler-564 @alyyaanna @nightmare-freakin-viper @nev-danielgarciawife @teenagedramaqueenlisa

「 COMMENT IF YOU WANT TO BE ADDED TO THE TAGLIST 」

｡･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡｡･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡｡･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡｡･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡｡･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡

he’s rough

his fingers are calloused and warn

he spreads your folds with such ease even when not properly lubricated

the way his fingers stretch your tight cunt is nothing short of mesmerizing

hypnotic almost

he pumps you out with two of them, a thumb circling your clit for added friction

most of the time he’ll have you facing away from him, legs spread in front of a mirror so you could watch yourself

he’s mean about it

degrading you about how easily he gets you aroused

not stopping until you whine and beg for him to make you cum

he edges you, constantly

right when you’re on the peak of orgasm he stops

keeping his fingers still inside of you

your cunt clenching around them

once he’s satisfied only then will he begin again

You’re in tears at this point, crying and begging for him to let you cum

“daddy stop!” you’d cry out

not that he cares.

he continues to degrate you further, laughing at the way you cry and scream for release

eventually he allows it,

he keeps fingering you through your orgasm

“c’mon babygirl, i know you got another one in you”

while you’re gushing like a fountain, making a mess of the mirror before you

your juices cascading down it like raindrops

he dosent stop there

even when you’re shuddering and trembling with release

he cant get enough of those sweet sounds your cunt makes

sending you over the edge again

leaving you in a puddle of your own wetness, your thighs soaked with yourself

even when he praises you its backhanded

makes you lick his fingers clean before roughly fucking your cunt.

｡･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡｡･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡｡･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡｡･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡｡･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡

#{ my fics : 🤍 }#roman reigns x reader #roman reigns smut #roman reigns #roman reigns fanfic #roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns imagine #wrestling imagine #wrestling smut #wwe #wwe smut #wwe fanfic #wwe imagine

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fl3shm4id3n · 2 years ago

Text

ᵢₜ'ₛ ₐ ₚᵣₐₙₖ!

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐝𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲 𝐚 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐩𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝.

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ᴍɪɢᴜᴇʟ ᴏ'ʜᴀʀᴀ x ᴡɪꜰᴇ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ, ɢʀᴀʙʀɪᴇʟʟᴀ ᴏ'ʜᴀʀᴀ x ᴍᴏᴍ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ (ᴘʟᴀᴛᴏɴɪᴄ)

Tw: 'Shut Up Mom' Prank, the Chancla.

Masterlist

It was a Friday, you and Gaby were in the living room watching TV, you both had nothing to do since the chores had been already done and there was nothing to really do. You had been sitting on the couch while Gaby was laying on your lap, focused on what was playing on the TV. You were scrolling through your phone, then you came across a video on your phone, it was of a son telling his mom to 'Shut up' to see there dad's reaction. This kind of gave you an idea.

"Gaby?" you called out to your daughter who only hummed. "You wanna play a prank on your daddy?" you asked, then she quickly got up and looked at you with curiosity. "What kind of prank?" she asked, then you showed her the video. She watched it closely, and giggled by the reactions of everyone. "We should!" she said now excitedly. After you had planned how you'll play out the plan, you had the idea to do laundry, you normally did it on the weekend but this time it was for this little prank.

You and Gaby had been waiting for Miguel to get home, you both couldn't help but just imagine how his reaction. Finally your husband had arrived, once you and Gaby had greeted him, was when the plan would be set on action.

Miguel was siting at the dinning room table, helping Gaby with her homework like usual. You had come back from the basement to get the laundry from the dryer. You sat the basket on the coffee table in the livingroom and began to fold the clothes, you and Gaby locked eyes, giving her a wink, to let her know the little sign. Then you got a hold of her Soccer jersey and her shorts, folding them neatly. Here goes nothing.

"Gaby can you go put your soccer clothes away? You got practice tomorrow" you said, trying so hard not to laugh. Gaby looked over at you from her work and went back to writing on her paper. "No Shut up mama" she said as serious as possible. This made Miguel stop at what he was doing and look at her wide eyes. Did she just told you to shut up? He looked over at you, who also had a shocked expression on your face, then back at Gaby.

"What did you say to your mama?" he asked slowly, then Gaby looked at him and repeated what she said to you. "To shut up?" she said, then Miguel reached down to were his foot was and got a hold of his chancla, without hesitation Gaby got up fast and began to run upstairs. Miguel got up from his chair and proceeded to run after her with the chancla in hand. "Gabriella!" he yelled after her.

Gaby squealed as you also followed behind them as fast as you could. " AY MIGUEL!! MIGUEL! IT'S A PRANK!!" You screamed, following them into Gaby's room. Your daughter was on the other side of her bed, laughing as Miguel had his hand with his chancla up, looking purely confused, as his daughter laughed, then he turned back to you who was laughing loudly. "It's a prank Miggy!" you said dying of laugher, then Miguel also began to laugh. "Omg, are you both serious" he said while laughing hard. "We got you!" Gaby said as she continued to laugh. Miguel was going to get you both back for this.

Taglist: @sorryi-mtrash, @call-me-nev, @belos-simp69

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara x fem reader #miguel o'hara x wife reader #miguel o'hara fic #miguel o'hara fluff #gabriella o'hara x mom reader (platonic)#platonic #platonic relationships #female reader #female y/n #wife reader #wife y/n #mom reader #mom y/n #aphrodite's writing

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harryspet · 1 year ago

Text

bambi eyes (3) r. cameron

[Warnings] soft!dark!rafe cameron x reader, daddy!rafe x little!reader older!rafe, crimeboss!rafe, rafe takes advantage of traumatized reader, DUBCON, dd/lg, sex trafficking, sexual slavery, sugar daddy rafe, stockholm syndrome, spoiling kink, unprotected sex, forced? age regression, little editing, 18+ READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

word count: 3.4k

In which you do your best to deal with your Daddy's mood swings.

main masterlist

bambi eyes masterlist

You felt like you were seeing Rafe less and less as the next two weeks went on. He was stressed about what was going on with work. He often paced back and forth in front of you, ranting, although he was never specific about the details of what was going on.

You noticed that he grabbed you tighter, pushed you harder into the mattress, and talked less during sex whenever something outside was affecting him. You were starting to accept it; it never hurt too much, and you’d be more scared if he weren’t interested in you in that way. If he didn’t want to be intimate with you, then there was a chance he wouldn’t want you anymore.

As much as Rafe promised you this was permanent, you couldn’t fully believe him. He had done all of this just for you, so you had to be able to offer him something special in return.

Like Rafe wanted, you established a routine. Every morning the birds would wake you up exactly at eight, and you’d make your bed which kept you from napping all day. Staying in your room was causing your imagination to stretch. You found new ways to entertain yourself, including trying on all the clothes in your wardrobe and throwing elaborate tea parties with all your stuffed animals and dolls.

One night that you thought would be like the last twelve nights, Rafe came to you after Lana had already brought you dinner. He wasn’t dressed in his usual khakis and dress shirt but in sweatpants and a pullover. You were curled up on the window seat, drawing flowers in a notebook, when Rafe came over to join you.

“Hi,” You spoke softly. He placed a warm hand on your knee, and you slowly closed your notebook.

“Hi, baby,” There was an ease and calmness to his voice that made you believe he’d actually had a good day, “What are you working on? Show me.”

You sat up, leaning closer, as you handed him the notebook. You hid slightly behind your knees as Rafe began to flip through the pages. At this point, you’d covered half of the pages in your doodles, “Oh wow, these are really pretty, Bambi,” He smiled with his entire face, including his bright eyes, “We should hang some of these on the fridge.”

You felt a bit of relief, hearing that he liked him, “I have more. Way more. I’ve colored a lot of the coloring books.”

“Go get them, I’ll pick my favorites,” Excitedly, you got up from the window seat. When you set several full coloring books in his lap, Rafe’s lips parted in shock, “Okay, wow, I don’t think I realized how much coloring you’d been doing.”

“I think it’s fun,” You said.

“Good, I want you to have fun,” Rafe nodded, “But have you worn down all your color pencils? How come you haven’t asked for more?”

You shrugged when Rafe gave you an inquisitive look, “I try to take care of the ones I have.”

“Would you even ask Daddy for more coloring books if you ran out of pages to color?”

“Maybe,” You spoke honestly.

The idea of asking for more than what Rafe had already given you did make your heart race. Rafe shook his head at something, “Daddy will get you lots more art supplies. Maybe you could try painting?”

“We could paint together?” You perked up.

“Yeah, yeah,” Rafe assured you, “I’m really, really sorry I haven’t been here as much as I’ve wanted to. Needed to, really. It’s just … I’m working on a lot of things right now, you know?”

“I’ve been okay,” You said, “Lana has been kind to me.”

“Good, good, I want you to be happy here, you know? That’s why I want you comfortable asking for things,” You watched Rafe’s eyes wander towards the bookshelf, “Like your books. I never see you reading them. Do you not like them?”

“I do,” You said quickly.

Rafe started to stare deeply at you, “What-what is it?”

“I . . . “

“I can pick some different ones for you? What do you like?”

“I like it when you read to me, Daddy,” Rafe tilted his head and the mentioning of his nickname didn’t light up his features like usual, “It’s hard for me. I never needed to … do that.”

He paused, which made you think you’d done something wrong, “You’ve never needed to read?”

“I can do it,” You said, “It’s hard when they’re all together, and there’s so many… the words. I’m sorry you think I don’t like the books you picked. I really do. I will try harder–”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Rafe rushed to put the coloring books aside and grab ahold of your face, “I just didn’t know, that’s it. You didn’t do anything wrong. At all.”

It wasn’t something you’d ever felt embarrassed about, but now you couldn’t help but feel stupid. Deep down, you felt a guy like Rafe deserved someone better. He deserved someone smarter than you.

You closed your eyes, wanting to hang your head, but Rafe said, “Look at me, hey,” Weakly, you did, “I’ve been thinking that you should spend more time with Lana instead of being cooped up in here. At least until I can take care of this … one problem I have. She’d be happy to have some company. And, if you want to learn, she could help you with your reading.”

“You don’t care?”

“Not at all, look, don’t worry. I’ve got you, sweet girl,” He said. Rafe leaned in to peck your nose before he brought your lips together. You melted into him, realizing then how much you missed him when he was gone, “You know what I was thinking?”

You stared back at Rafe, who had a mischievous look in his eye.

“We should take the boat out.”

“Now? Where?”

“Just on a short ride to get you some fresh air. It’ll be cold, so let’s find you some warmer clothes, yeah?”

It was a rhetorical question; Rafe was already making his way over to your wardrobe. You looked down at the small silk pajama set you were wearing. You’d seen all the boats out by the dock but hadn’t imagined that Rafe would take you out on one. “Lift your arms,” You did exactly as he said, pulling a light blue sweatshirt over your head. He also chose long pajama bottoms, helping you get into those, too, “You want to bring one of your stuffies?”

Your excitement mixed with your anxiety as you put on your slippers. It was a hard decision to make about which stuffed animal you wanted to bring, but you settled on Fin, your silvery-blue dolphin, “Excellent choice.”

Rafe grabbed your hand, leading you downstairs, “Do you think we’ll see a real dolphin?”

“Well, they tend to be more active during the day, and it’ll be dark soon … but maybe if you wish really, really hard.”

The air was much cooler outside than you expected, and you certainly didn’t expect it to feel so strange being in the fresh air. You turned in a circle just so you could take in the sky, the trees, the house, and everything around you.

You followed a determined Rafe across the yard and towards the deck. He chose one of the smaller boats, although there was room for at least four more people. You yelped when Rafe grabbed you by your waist suddenly and lifted you inside. Another yelp escaped your lips as the boat rocked under the pressure of your weight, “You’re okay, don’t worry,” He didn’t have to tell you to take a seat or be still; you decided you wouldn’t move at all, “One . . . moment.”

You watched through the corner of your eyes as Rafe untied the roaps keeping the boat tethered to the dock. The boat rocked again as Rafe hopped inside, causing you to grip Fin in one hand and grip the side of the boat in the other.

You sat in the seat right across from Rafe as the boat slowly pulled off towards deeper water. As the boat became more steady, you turned your head and watched Tannyhill get smaller and smaller. The orange and blue sky reflected off the water, creating an insanely beautiful view. You sailed towards the horizon, the son looking half submerged in the water, “How do you feel?” Rafe yelled over the sound of the motor, “Wanna go faster?”

You nodded, a smile growing on your face, “My little daredevil, huh?” You sat up on your knees, wanting to see more. You get a better look at Figure 8, seeing lots of huge houses along the beach, although none of them compare to Tannyhill. Rafe pointed out different landmarks for you, including the country club and a huge lighthouse out in the water. In your eyes, this night made every other night where you worried about your place with Rafe worth it.

“Go ahead, you can give it a taste test,” Lana conceded, allowing you to dip your finger into the chocolate cake batter. A few days after your night out with Rafe, Lana was showing you how to make the perfect chocolate cake. You thought she might be exaggerating about how perfect it was until you were licking your finger. An excited moan left your mouth and you bounced on the balls of your feet, “It’s great, isn’t it? Espresso powder is the key.”

“It really is,” You agreed.

“Now, wash your hands. It’s time to pour our batter.”

The entire day Lana had told you exactly what to do and how to do it. You didn’t mind listening or following her directions as she usually spoke to you warmly. Besides that, you wanted to learn exactly how to take care of things around the house, knowing that Rafe would appreciate your help when Lana couldn’t be here. The two of you cleaned the entire downstairs, did several loads of laundry, washed the windows in the glass patio, and even had time for a reading lesson in the early morning. She informed you that she homeschooled her youngest son and that she would try to teach you in a similar way.

As you washed your hands, you glanced out the side window towards the dock. You could see Rafe far out on the dock, standing with the same business associate who came to the house a few weeks ago. They weren’t alone like you were expecting; someone was on their knees a few feet ahead of them, their head slumped over. You squinted your eyes, trying to see more of them, although Rafe and his business associate shouting at each other blocked your view, “What are they doing out there? Who’s that?” Lana came over to where you were standing, peeking out just like you were.

Whatever business Rafe was involved in, Lana didn’t seem to care for it, “Mr. Cameron and Barry, they’re always at each other’s throats,” She shook her head, “Come, dry your hands. The oven is heated.”

You did as she said, turning your head away. There were going to be several layers to your cake, meaning you had three pans to fill, and after that, you and Lana would make the icing. Just as your mind wandered back to Rafe, you heard him coming through the kitchen door.

He wiped the sweat from his forehead, pacing for a moment before his dark eyes landed on you, “Bambi, let’s … uhm, go upstairs,” His voice was shaky and deeper than normal, “Come here.”

“We’re-We’re just about to put the cake in the oven. It’s for tonight, and we’re going to make homemade icing too–”

“Now …please,” He said the last word like it was painful, “It’s time for you to go back to your room.”

No, no, no, a voice repeated in your head.

“But Lana was going to teach me how to ice the cake, too and she —”

“Fine,” Rafe snapped, his hand slamming against the counter before he rolled his eyes, “Just stay here.”

As Rafe stomped away, you knew you had something horribly wrong. You’d seen him in a similar mood before but he never directed any of his vitriol towards you before. Whatever had happened on the dock had clearly upset him. You really wanted to finish working with Lana. More than anything, you didn’t want to be locked in your room for another long period of time.

After taking a breath, or attempting to take one, you turned to Lana, “I didn’t mean… I-I should go say sorry.”

“You might want to let him calm down a little bit, sweetheart,” You’d already made up your mind. You reached behind your neck to undo the top of your apron, “Turn around, let me help you. He’s not mad at you.”

“How do you know?”

“I know who he is,” She spoke simply, “Don’t take anything too personally with Mr. Cameron.”

“You can finish without me; I’m sorry, but thank you for today,” You said as you started to walk away. After you saw her nod, a sad smile on her face, you turned away and sped for the stairs.

You approached Rafe’s bedroom moments later, hesitantly turning the knob, “Daddy?” You called, peeking inside. You called him again. He wasn’t in the main room but the shower was running in the bathroom, “Rafe?”

You jumped when he suddenly appeared in the bathroom doorframe, shirtless and his belt undone. This time, you notice his bruised hands and bloody knuckles.

“I didn’t mean to make you upset, Daddy.”

“Get down on your knees,” He stared you down. When you tried to come closer, he said, “No, drop to your knees right there.”

You felt your knees brush against the bedroom rug, “Crawl to me.”

If Rafe wanted you to feel even smaller, then his plan was successful. You did as he said, seeing no other option, and crawled towards him. You watched as he palmed himself over his briefs, and you could already feel him stretching you, pulling your hair, and leaving marks on your bottom. This wouldn’t last, you told yourself; he would be gentle with you another time.

Your sage dress had ridden up your body, exposing your floral patterned white panties.

“You’re gonna suck my cock and swallow all my cum. And then you’re gonna thank Daddy for letting you.”

You’d do exactly as your Daddy wanted, hoping he’d take your sore throat and tears as a sufficient apology.

Once you were soundly asleep in his bed, Rafe slipped out. He had a huge, bloody problem waiting for him in the cabin of his boat. Luckily, JJ Maybank was still the degenerate he used to be, and no one except his Pogue girlfriend would come looking for him anytime, “Son of a bitch isn’t talking,” Barry grunted out, meeting Rafe at the beginning of the dock, “Knocked two of his bottom teeth out and he’s still not motivated.”

Rafe had done everything possible to limit any competition he might face in Kildare. All small-time dealers would be working for someone who worked for Rafe. This was meant to be Rafe’s island yet somehow, Maybank was getting supplies from the mainland and was stealing his customers.

“We could take his girl.”

Rafe contemplated Barry’s question before shaking his head, “If she comes around trying to find him, we might have no choice. I’m sure that will motivate him.”

Rafe could see Barry’s eyes wandering to Kie. Part of him would love to see JJ squirm if they got their hands on her. You were the reason he didn’t think too long about that. Barry, on the other hand, Rafe would let him do whatever he wanted with Kie. In the end, Rafe wanted JJ to talk, to give up his sources, but he’d be just fine killing him.

“I hope,” Barry crossed his arms, “Not exactly looking forward to dealing with the body.”

“We don’t have to deal with that shit anymore; I know who to pay to handle it,” Rafe said, “Speaking of, I think I-uh need some more security here. I want guards all around the perimeter. Because of the amount of merchandise and if we’re going to be taking captives, you know. I want this place to be a fortress.”

“Your merchandise, huh?” Barry flashed Rafe a knowing look, “You got any liquor in that big house?”

Rafe gestured his head toward the house, signaling to Barry to follow behind him.

“If Kie doesn’t come for him and if he still has no information to offer us, we kill him. No more torture, no mess, one gunshot to the temple,” Rafe instructed, his mind racing with what their next moves should be. The more planning beforehand, the better, and the less likely it would come back to them, “That’ll send a message to the rest of the Pogues too. They work for me, or they work for no one.”

“And after you’ve cornered the market?”

“That’s just the start of everything else,” Rafe led Barry through the first floor, towards his office. Ward always used to keep his office stocked with liquor as it came in handy for important meanings. Rafe learned people will often let down their barriers and concede to more under the influence of alcohol. He opened the door for him, allowing him to enter.

“Whoa,” Barry said, walking inside just as Rafe heard a soft gasp from a familiar voice. Eyebrows raised, Rafe entered behind him to find what had shocked him, “Is this the new Mrs. Cameron?”

With wide eyes, Rafe took you in. You were in the same clothes Rafe left you in, one of his white button-ups and your knee-high socks, “What are you doing down here?” You slowly stepped behind Rafe’s desk, and he could tell you were trying to hide yourself.

“I-I couldn’t find you.”

Rafe’s jaw jutted forward, his arms crossed, as he said, “You’re supposed to be sleeping.”

Your lips parted to say something, but Barry interrupted, “C’mon, man, it’s not even midnight! Introduce me to your girl. We can all have a drink,” He grabbed ahold of Rafe’s shoulder. You would think Barry had one the lottery based on the look in his eyes. By complete accident, Barry had stumbled on Rafe’s biggest treasure, “I’ll behave, I promise.”

“She doesn’t drink.”

Rafe was frustrated, mostly because he should’ve been keeping closer track of you. He’d given you that necklace for a reason. A new idea crossed his mind, one he wasn’t expecting, and some of his anxiety eased. He was far from embarrassed of you, he’d chosen you for a reason, but part of Rafe wanted Barry to envy him at that moment.

Rafe sighed, waving you closer to the two of them, “Bambi, this is Barry. Barry, this is Bambi,” Smoothly, Rafe grabbed ahold of your waist, pulling you into him.

“Hi,” You said shyly, “It’s nice to meet you.”

When Barry held his hands out to you, your eyes darted towards Rafe as if to ask permission. Agreement crossed his face, and Rafe watched you shake his hand. Barry was fully taking you in, of course, but Rafe knew a handshake would be the extent of his closeness with you.

“The pleasure is all mine, beautiful.”

“Chill out, dude. Sit down,” Rafe instructed Barry, pulling you along.

Barry made himself comfortable on the leather couch and Rafe motioned you to sit across in one of the leather chairs.

“How you liking Kildare?”

“It’s really nice,” Rafe heard you respond as he poured two glasses of whiskey for him and Barry, “There’s so many big houses, and … it’s just really pretty.”

“You ain’t seen much then, have you?” Rafe handed Barry his glass, flashing a warning with his eyes, “All the girls where you’re from, they as pretty as you?”

“I . . . I don’t know,” You laughed nervously.

Rafe placed a hand on your shoulder, and you looked up at him, “Why don’t you go get Barry a slice of that chocolate cake you made?”

Rafe assumed it would ease your nervousness if you could share what you made. “Okay, Daddy,” You smiled at both men, and both men watched you closely as you walked out of the room, “I’ll be right back.”

“Pretty and obedient,” Barry whistled, “I need to travel more.”

A/N: Thank you all so much for your support on the first two chapters BUT psa you will not be added to my taglist if you're not reblogging the fic and letting me know your thoughts! It is crazy to me that people will ask me to tag them in the next chapter when they have neither liked nor reblogged the fic. Constructive feedback is more encouraging than just commenting "PART 4" or "tag me in part 4" :)

PART 4

#dark fic #rafe x reader #rafe obx #rafe cameron #outer banks smut #barry outer banks #rafe cameron x black!reader #rafe cameron smut #rafe smut #rafe fanfiction

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cherry-leclerc · 1 year ago

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the red high heels ☆ cs55

genre: humor, secret relationship, leclerc!twins

word count: 1.9k

It's 2am and Charles is desperate to find you. Who better to help look for you than his teammate?

req... guys, i literally wrote different versions of this request at least 5 times...anyways, hope you enjoy a quick one :)

Groaning, Carlos stands up from his bed, making his way to the door. It’s 2 am and he was far too comfortable until he was rudely interrupted. Opening the door, he sees a despaired Charles, dark under eyes evident. “Charles? Are you okay, man?” His voice is raw and croaky almost. His teammate shakes his head, then nods.

“Fuck, it’s just that…my sister. Mate, I don’t know where she is.” Hearing this, the Spaniard narrows his eyes, all of a sudden awake.

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

“Well, I checked her room, I called her and nothing. We’re supposed to be leaving for the airport in an hour!”

Carlos stays still for a moment. “Okay, I’ll help you look for her, she can’t be too far out. She’s not like that.” The Monegasque nods slowly before beginning to slump his way into the room. Carlos sprints after him.

“Oh! Um…How about you wait outside? It’s just that the room is so messy.” Turning his gaze, he points to the spotless room. Charles frowns.

“Carlos, this has got to be the cleanest room I’ve ever seen in my entire life.” He scrunches his nose before waving his hands in his teammates direction. “Hurry and put on a shirt so we can leave.” With tight lips, he nods. He’s slow about it too, the way he makes his way to his suitcase. Opening it, it’s empty. He slightly curses himself for being too much of a neat freak that he just had to organize his clothes into the small closet. “Some girl kept your shirt?” Charles' smile is teasing as he sends over a playful wink. Carlos winces.

“Of course not! Just have to…” He points over to the closet that is on the other side of the room. He pats his face. “You know what? I think I’m going to put my shoes on first! I’ll be quick, if you want we can meet outside.”

“It’s no big deal. I can wait. I mean you are helping me after all.” The brown eyed man wants to yell when a kind smile tugs at Charles’ lips. Get out, get out, get outttt.

“Of course.” Leaning down to grab his Golden Goose under the bed he takes a deep breath. His heart is beating so fast, he thinks it might leap out of his chest. Charles is talking, but all is unclear as Carlos reaches down. He quickly relaxes when he finds his shoes. He lets out a shaky breath.

“Oh no. Is your age getting the best out of you?” Charles snickers as Carlos grunts before sitting beside him, slipping on his shoes ever so slowly. Charles is growing impatient, he could tell. This was good.

“So, um, where do you think she is?” Carlos questions as he unties his other shoe. Charles hums.

“You know what? I have a feeling she’s not that far…Twin telepathy.” The broody man rolls his eyes as Charles shares a thoughtful glance. He laughs. “Call it what you want, but that shit exists.”

“I bet.”

The green eyed boy furrows his brows at Carlos’ clumsy fingers playing with his laces. He desperately huffs. “Do you need help or something?”

“Almost got it…” The white strings become undone for what seems the millionth time before he finally gets the grips of it. Bravo, Charles mutters.

“Coming back to what you were saying, what do you mean by twin telepathy?” Carlos stands up making his way to his empty suitcase again but Charles doesn’t even seem to notice as he becomes entertained by his bracelets.

“Oh, well, it’s real. I feel like she can’t be that far. How else do you think I would win at tag when we were younger?” He raises an eyebrow over his teammate. He continues with a now moody face. “Though, something else tells me she’s with someone, y’know?” Carlos chokes as he turns to face Charles. I don’t, he squeaks out. “It’s just that I’ve had this feeling that she might be seeing someone from the grid. I told her not to and she said she would never, but I don’t know why I could never really believe her. Plus, she’s oddly been attached to her phone a tad bit too much.”

Just then Carlos’ phone rings. They both shoot their eyes to the bright light that shines in the middle of the messy bed sheets. Reaching out, Charles grabs it before handing it over. You should probably answer. Hastily, he takes it.

Get. Him. Out.

He coughs as he slips his phone into his back pocket. “Hey, why don’t you start looking for her without me? I swear I’ll be out in a minute.”

“I don’t know where else to look, I’ve tried everywhere! Just hurry so we can brainstorm ideas. I swear to God when I find her-” A light thud echoes the small room as he cocks his head to the side in attentiveness. He raises his hand to his ear. “Did you hear that?”

The Spaniard immediately goes to rub his elbow. “I just hit my arm, that’s all.”

“Be careful, mate.” He stands up. “Okay grab your shirt.”

“Mierda. I can’t find it.” But that's a lie because just a couple of feet behind Charles, it lies. Right next to a pair of red heels. Charles' eyes roam the room with a slightly annoyed expression before spotting it. Picking it up, he pauses. When he turns around he wears a toothy grin.

“Oh shit! You have a girl over! That’s why you went all shy!” He picks up the heel. “That’s crazy. Looks just like my sisters. Girls just have the same taste these days…”

Carlos quickly grabs the shirt from him before snatching the heel back too. “I-I didn’t–I mean I did, but she left! She must have forgotten her sh–” The words tumble past his lips so fast that he doesn’t notice how Charles’ expression has dropped.

The red high heel could have been anyones, true, but not everyone had your initials at the bottom. He knows since he was the one who had gifted them to you as a birthday present. You had begged for months.

“Hope you shut up now that you have them,” he says as you smile down at the designer heels. You nod happily.

“I promise I’ll take care of them, Charlie! So sweet, I mean, you even added a nice detail!”

He’s fuming, but he’s also confused. “You motherfucker–”

“It’s just a shoe, mate!” Carlos' voice cracks in nervousness as his teammate strolls his way over. The Monegasque quickly grabs Carlos’ collared shirt as he pushes him against the closet. His body thuds as he groans.

“Where’s my sister?” His harsh glare doesn’t equal his tone and that scares Carlos just a tiny…lot.

“I don’t know! Let’s go look for her!” He tries to pry Charles’ hands off, but this only makes him push him back against the wood, harder. He cringes.

“Stop lying.” When Carlos looks down and doesn’t respond, he doesn’t think twice as he starts to bang his body against the brown doors. It shakes so much that the closet starts to get slightly unbalanced. And then…

It tips over.

Reacting quickly, Charles swiftly pulls Carlos away as they both fall onto the floor. The closet falls with a loud thud as they both gasp. But Carlos is quick to try to lift it up. “Calm down, it’s just a closet-”

“Fuck you, your sister is inside!”

Charles’ eyes go wide as he runs over to help his teammate. Finally, once it’s stood up correctly, they open the doors in a hurry. You moan as you rub your head.

“You both are so fucking innsufferable.” Your eyes are screwed shut when you reach your arm out for help. Your boyfriend is about to help you but your brother beats him to it. He leads you to the bed as you curl into a ball. “Oh God, I think I have a concussion.”

“We should take her to the hospital,” Carlos says as Charles bites down onto his nails. He agrees. They care, of course they do, but they’re not smooth about it.

“You grab her head and I’ll grab her legs.” Charles instructs as Carlos nods.

“No!” You sit up straight as you crawl further away from them. “I’m fine.”

“Amor, you should get checked out-”

“I don’t like that nickname. Stop it.” Charles mutters as he crosses his arms. You ignore him.

“Seriously, I’m fine. All your clothes saved me.” He lets out a sarcastic laugh as you giggle. Charles can’t help but glare at both of you.

“Okay, since you’re feeling well, then we should leave. Now.”

“No.”

His gaze sharpens as you cuddle your legs to your chest. “Stop being a brat. Let’s go.” He reaches out for you but you only kick his arms away. I’ll leave with Carlos, you bicker back. “Just shut up. Let’s. Go.” He reaches out to grab your legs as he starts to drag you towards him, but you’re kicking and screaming so loud that he lets go to cover his ears. He almost loses it when you run over to Carlos as you hug him like your favorite teddy bear.

“You can go. I want to leave with Carlos.”

He clicks his tongue as he places his hands on his hips. He taps his shoe. “Listen, say goodbye or whatever you want, but you are not going anywhere with him.” You shake your head. Carlos sighs as he places a kiss to the top of your head.

“I think he’s right.”

I don’t need your help controlling my sister, Charles wants to warn him but he doesn’t when he notices you deflate, furthermore. “No, I want to stay with you. I can deal with him later.” The Spaniard unties your hands from his waist before he leans down to place a kiss on your cheek.

“No, you should listen to your brother.” You know he isn’t breaking up with you, but perhaps a bang to the head has you slightly sensitive. Tears slowly fill up your eyes.

“Do you not want me anymore?” Your voice is small and he wants to punch himself for causing so much confusion. He’s about to say, you know I always do, but decides not to answer when he looks up at Charles, who stands by quietly.

“I…”

Charles awkwardly clears his throat as he twists his heel. You muster up the dirtiest stare possible as you say, “What do you want now?” He winces at your tone as he exhales in defeat.

“You can stay.” You narrow your eyes as you let out a wobbly smile. Are you serious? He nods as Carlos smiles at him in thankfulness. “But we spoke about this so many times, didn’t we? I always warned you that relationships like this take lots of taking care of, that's the main reason why I was always so against it, never because I didn’t want to see you happy.” His eyes flicker to Carlos, who’s attention remains on you.

“I know that, but I don’t care. I’m willing to learn.”

“I know you are. And you.” He points sharply at the Spaniard. “I can’t believe you went behind my back! That’s my sister!” Calm down, you plead. “You know what, we’re twins, so I hope you think of me when you kiss her-”

The room goes silent as you stare back with wide eyes. Once a single giggle is let out, a string only follows as you hurl over laughing. “That’s so wrong!” Charles blushes.

“Forget I said anything, just…Be careful and treat her right.”

Carlos bobs his head as he hugs you from behind and you lean into his touch with a glow Charles has never seen on you.

“I swear to God I will always do that.”

#carlos sainz drabble #f1 #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz one shot #carlos sainz smut #carlos sainz fanfic #carlos sainz imagine

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ginevrapng · 1 year ago

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studying with your boyfriend is something you love but also hate. he's a great teacher and explains everything that you don't understand or that professors haven't explained to you the right way for you to understand but you also don't like studying with neville because he's so hot when he's tutoring you that it's distracting.

the whole time neville will be trying to help you with your exam next week you'll be wanting to snog him and find a quiet and dark place in the library to suck his dick.

"are you listening flower?" he asks when you haven't made any input to the conversation. honestly you're not, you're watching the way his eyebrows furrow as he crosses out a misspelling and how he's rolled his jumper up to his forearms. his lip is slightly jutting out and you want to reach over to him and grab his face and kiss him until you're both dizzy.

he looks over to you to see you staring at his lips and smirks. he knows that look on you well. "not now petal, we've got to get this all done," he tells you softly but sternly.

you really should listen, you know he's right but you can't pay attention when he's looking so attractive. "nev please, i need you so bad," you whine, hoping he'll give in and forget about the exam in favour of making out with you.

neville looks back up from his work to you and sighs starting to get exasperated with those puppy dog eyes and pleading words. "i said no."

some people in gryffindor still think of neville as this clumsy, shy and timid boy but he's changed, so when your boyfriend talks like that it's hard to go against him so you shut your mouth, at least for awhile.

neville sees your antsy behaviour and distracted self and decides to do something about it. "you're so needy petal, can't even spend a few hours concentrating without you trying to fuck me."

you pout at him, not realising that you weren't being convincing after he told you to start studying again. "i didn't do anything neville, promise," you say while looking down and playing with the hem of your skirt.

neville follows your eyes and then gets an idea on how to handle his girlfriend. "petal sit on my thigh."

your eyes widen in realisation. "neville we can't do that, not here," you whisper. whipping your head around the library you see that you're the only ones around and you are also in the back of the library but you still believe it to be to dangerous.

"thought you said you were needy?" you bit your lip in thought, he knows what you'll do. "haven't got all day flower." after that you slide out of your chair and stand in front of neville silently asking him where he wants you to sit. "come on, so you're facing me." you shyly nod your head and rest on his thigh.

neville places a delicate kiss on your temple and speaks lowly into your ear, "love you flower." at the same time he grabs hold of your soft hips and starts to drag your body against his thigh.

as you move more against neville's thigh you know that your knickers are getting wetter and they'll probably be a stain on his trousers if this goes on for long.

neville chose this so he could keep working if necessary but he's forgotten all about it. he can't help but drop everything to focus all his attention on you, it's impossible for him not to. he adores you and right now he's getting incredibly hard after hearing your small panting and feeling your doughy skin underneath his big palms. neville simply doesn't know where to look, at your quickly rising and falling chest that's pressed against him or your plush thighs that he can see now that your skirt has ridden up higher or your cute face scrunched up in pleasure.

you've wrapped your arms around neville's neck and you bury your face into his chest every time you feel a particularly loud moan about to leave your mouth. neville pushes some of your hair out of your face as you're beginning to get sweaty and kisses you all over your face.

his trousers get tighter and you increase your pace with the help and guidance of neville. your clit gets pressed against him constantly with the friction and you're losing all sense of how to talk. "nev, plea-, i- i feels s'good," you whine.

neville smirks, his whole confident aura is making you fuzzy. "alright petal, i've got you. hold on tightly to my neck." you nod frantically and hold on tighter. he sinks his fingers even deeper into your plush body, definitely leaving bruises. he flexes his thigh again, angles your body in the right way so that every time you move your clit gets stimulation and starts to move your body up and down, completely controlling your pace.

it's been a couple minutes as you start to form a new sentence "neville, i-"

neville already knows you're about to finish, you started clawing his neck and biting your lip harder trying to stifle any noise. "come f'me petal." you do, the coil building inside of you snaps and you see white. neville shoves his tongue in your mouth and kisses you, muffling your moan. your body shivers and you push your body up against his even more.

you take a couple minutes to breathe and afterwards shakily get off of neville. he holds onto your wrist to stabilise you and groans as he sees the aftermath you've left on his trousers. he takes a glance at the table with all your books on and mumbles 'fuck it' and starts shoving both of your work into his bag. neville's heart melts as he looks up to your cute confused face. "let's head back to my room petal." your face lights up as you remove your wrist from his hand and intertwine your fingers together, you start swinging both your hands as you walk out the library.

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rainydayathogwarts · 1 year ago

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hi please could i request something with ron where he has a seggs dream about you and wakes up h3rd with you cuddling him. thank you <3

So it seems I wasn't lying and I really am in my ron era. But who am I to complaint honestly.

Warnings: sexually explicit, smut, fluff in the end kind of, embarrassed ron. creations of the dirty teen boy mind, semi public sex. reader described as having long hair in dream 0.9k words

Ron laid flat on his back as your naked, sweaty body bounced up and down on his hard cock. You shone with sweat and your head was thrown back, letting your long hair perfectly run down your back in flawless ripples. Your tits bounced up with every move you made, and Ron reached up to squeeze them with both his hands. Both of you moaned in pleasure when Ron's cock hit your g-spot, causing your pussy to squeeze tightly around his thick length.

You brought both your hands down onto your boyfriend's abdomen, where you felt his muscles flex under his skin, and he let out a whimper, bringing both his hands up to grip your hips tight enough to leave marks.

You sped up your pace and Ron dug his head deep into the pillow behind him, and you felt his nails dig into your skin. His hips jerked up into yours frantically and just as he was about to let his load out into you - his eyes fluttered open.

Ron's arms were wrapped tightly around your waist, and your body was pressed against his in a spooning position. Ron immediately groaned in disappointment and discomfort when he realised that it was all a dream and that he was still hard as a rock. He unwraps his arms from your waist and tries wiggling away from you to create space between you, but you instantly flip around onto your stomach, throwing a leg over Ron's hip, while cuddling deeper into his chest.

He suppresses a moan, because despite the illusion of privacy you got from the curtains pulled around Ron's four poster bed, his four other dorm mates were probably still in their respectful beds, sleeping. Ron froze. He had no idea what to do from there. His mind races while he tries to make up his mind; should he go to the bathroom and get himself off or take care of himself right next to you. He didn't think twice, reaching into his sweatpants to free his hard-on.

Once he's shimmied his sweatpants and briefs down his thighs, he starts to relieve himself. He groans and bring his knuckles between his teeth as he tries to control his slow movements, intently staring at the way your legs are slightly spread for him. Your legs and panties are exposed, the t-shirt you borrowed from Ron riding all the way up past your hips, allowing Ron a perfect view of your panty-clad cunt. His movements start to speed up, but he goes still as soon as soon as he hears a quiet "Ron?"

Your eyes are fluttering open, and your head is tilted at just the right angle that you get a perfect view of his hand tightly wrapped around his leaking cock. You blink a couple of times, allowing yourself to adjust to the rather sudden change of sleeping, to seeing your boyfriend jerking off. You look up with raised eyebrows at your boyfriend's face, which has suddenly gone all red, and can't help but giggle slightly.

You reach down to replace his hand and mutter to him "Here, let me take care of you", and he does. The hand previously on his cock reaches up under his your shirt to grip your waist and his second arm wraps around your shoulder, pulling you impossibly closer to him as if it would suppress him moans. Ron bites his lip and throws his head back, grunting quietly and you put a hand on his abdomen as if it would help, but it only causes Ron to desperately whine.

"Ron." You say again, but only this time it's in a warning tone, and Ron tries stifling the noises he makes by biting your shoulder. You gasp quietly and increase the pace on Ron's dick. A harsh tug on your hair makes you look up at him only for Ron to slam his lips onto yours. You feel the muscles in his lower stomach contracting which never fail to tell you he's close and bring that hand down to focus on his red tip. This has his hips frantically humping up into your hand as he releases onto the sheets and pretty much everywhere else.

Once he's ridden out his orgasm and is safe from releasing any other inappropriate sounds, he breaks the kiss. He's red in the face and his chest heaves up and down as he tries to catch his breath, but a shy smile still finds itself on his face, and he tries to hide his embarrassment by burying his face into your chest. You giggle, both your hands starting to play with his ginger hair, the unspoken question floating in the air.

"I had a dream." He finally admits and you look down at him, pressing a soft kiss on his forehead. His arms wrap around your torso once more and he rolls onto his stomach, and you move so he's now resting between your legs, his head laying on your stomach as you play with his hair. "Well you might just have to have those more often"

"No you won't!" A voice interrupts, which you recognise as Harry's, essentially ruining the moment. Ron's face flushes again and he groans, even as you laugh in shock.

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mylifesjustacarousel · 3 months ago

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femme fatale

pairing: james hook x fem!reader (requested!)

summary: you are the new transfer student at merlin academy, and hook falls head over heels for you when he realizes that he’s not the only pirate on campus anymore

type: fluffy…? very silly goofy

CW: kinda suggestive, reader has a knife

WC: 1.5k

part 2 | not proofread!

“Who is that?” Hook whispered, nudging Morgie’s shoulder. The two of them were sat in class when a certain someone caught Hook’s eye. Morgie looked up from his book, gazing over at the person in question. You were sat a few rows ahead of the boys, your feet on your desk while you leaned back in your chair.

“Her? I think she’s one of the new transfer students. You know, she’s a pirate too.”

Hook’s interest in you instantly piqued. It wasn’t every day that he met another pirate, or at least one as breathtaking as you. “She’s stunning. You think I should ask her out?” Morgie looked puzzled. “Ask her out? You don’t know her.” Hook scoffed, looking offended. “Look at me, Morgs. I’m irresistible to all.”

When class was dismissed Hook got up, scrambling to get up and walk over to you. He almost tripped on his way over to your seat, catching himself on your desk. “Silly me, I’m already falling head over heels for you. The name is Hook, and you are?” he asked, winking at you. You raised a brow, looking him up and down. Your eyes stopped on his hook. “I see where the name comes from. I’ll call you pirate boy. As for my name?” You got close to him, your faces mere inches apart. “You’ll just have to figure it out, lover boy.” you whispered, getting up from your seat and walking past him. Yes, he was gorgeous. But you liked to have a little fun with your prey before you went in for the kill.

Hook was practically frozen in his spot, absolutely in awe from the interaction that had just occurred. Morgie walked up to Hook, tapping him on the shoulder. “You okay? I don’t think I’ve ever seen a girl reject you like that.” Hook stood up, brushing off his clothes. “No, no. That was far from a rejection. This just turned into a game, and the ball is in my court. She’ll be mine… eventually.”

“What’s he so happy about?” Maleficent asked Morgie in a hushed tone, watching as Hook quite literally skipped into the lair. Morgie giggled, looking up from his book. “He met that new transfer student, y/n, in class today. I can’t really say why he’s so happy, though. He almost fell on his face right in front of her. If that was me, I would’ve started running and never looked back.”

Hook looked over at them, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’ll have you know that, no, it didn’t exactly work out how I wanted it to. But, she was totally into me. She didn’t really show it on her face, but I could tell.” Maleficent snickered at him. “You think that you have a chance with her? I’m sure that you could get any girl that you wanted, just not her. No, even Uliana is a little scared of her. She exudes so much confidence that it’s actually a little terrifying, and that is coming from me.”

“And that makes me like her even more. I like a girl who knows what she wants.” He let out a happy sigh, sitting down next to Morgie. “She’ll come around, they all do.”

“Hook, you have a problem.” Hades mumbled.

“I don’t recall asking.” he grumbled. “Look, I think she’s into me. It won’t hurt for me to take my chance. In fact, I think I saw her studying in the common area. Maybe I’ll pay her a little visit.”

“Hello there, m’lady.”

You looked up from your homework, seeing the same pirate from earlier standing in front of you. He pushed your papers aside, sitting down on the table. You crossed your arms over your chest, leaning back in your chair. “Well, isn’t this a pleasant surprise, pirate boy.” He rolled his eyes. “It’s Hook. James Hook.”

Giggling to yourself, you sat up. “Do you even know my name?” Leaning forward, the faint feeling of your breath ghosted the skin on his neck. “Why should I bother to use yours?” Hook audibly gulped, looking down at you. Never, not once, had someone rendered him speechless. He always had something to say, always. “I, uh…”

“You what?” You ran your fingers through his long hair. “Tell me, pretty boy. I don’t bite.” Hook’s heart was racing about a million miles a minute. He absentmindedly leaned into your touch, his eyes threatening to close. “Your name is y/n.”

Your hand stopped in his hair, a smirk growing on your face. “So you do pay attention. I’m impressed, Captain. If you can even be called that. Have you earned the title of Captain?” He looked over at you, pulling your hand out of his hair and holding it in his own. “I can show you why they call me Captain, darling.”

You tapped your finger against your chin, acting like you were thinking about it. “I’ll pass. But, thank you for the invite, gorgeous.” You went to pull away but he pulled you back towards him, your chests pressing together. “You don’t know who you’re toying with, lassie.”

“I’ll see you around, James.” You pressed a kiss to his cheek, leaving a dark kiss mark from your lipstick. He huffed, watching you gather your things. “You’re not even going to consider? I’ll make it worth your while.”

“Maybe another time, pretty boy. After all, I do love to stare at that little face of yours.”

Hook stormed into his room, throwing his bag down on his bed. Morgie looked over at him from his desk. “Hey, Hook… What’s on your face?” Hook groaned, slamming the bathroom door open and looking at himself in the mirror. Right in the middle of his cheek was a big ol’ kiss mark from you. “She’s playing hard to get, Morgs. But I’m not going to let her win.” he grumbled, trying to rub the kiss mark off with water.

Ever since the second that Hook laid his eyes on you in class, he was instantly infatuated. Your confidence, your playfulness, your drop dead gorgeousness… He wanted it all.

Morgie got up, leaning against the doorway of the bathroom. “What if she’s just not interested?” Hook spun around on his heels to face Morgie. “Oh, she’s interested. She’s hot, I’m gorgeous. It’s meant to be.” Morgie slowly nodded, making his way back to his desk.

“You’ll see, Morgs. A pirate always knows how to get their treasure.”

“Okay, Hook.”

You were laid out on a towel at the Enchanted Lake, trying to soak up some sun before the weekend was over. While relaxing, you couldn’t help but think about your new… admirer. You knew that you were playing hard to get, but you couldn’t help it. He was just so fun to play with. No matter what, he kept trying. It was intriguing, to say the least. You couldn’t lie and say that you weren’t even the tiniest bit interested, though. After all, he was gorgeous. But you didn’t give in that easily to anything.

“Sitting by yourself, darling?”

You took a deep breath, not even having to open your eyes to know who the voice belonged to. “Yes, I am, pirate boy. Emphasis on the “by myself” part. How do you keep finding me?” you asked, propping yourself up on your elbows so you could look at him. “I was, uh, actually just passing by. Then I saw you and I thought that I would stop and say hi.” You bit your lip, trying your best to hide the smile that was trying to make way on your face.

“You don’t think that’s a little odd?” You stood up, walking over to him. “I mean, not that I mind, pretty boy. But, you don’t know who you’re messing with.” Within seconds, there was a small blade pointed at Hook. His eyes widened and his face turned a cherry red. “Where did you even pull that out from?” You just shrugged. “A good pirate always keeps a method of defense on hand. If you need tips, pirate boy, I could always give you a… little lesson.”

“A lesson?” he scoffed, his face still as red as his jacket. You reached up, straightening out his jacket. “Careful, love, any more flustered and your skin will completely blend in with this jacket of yours.” Teasing him seemed a little mean, sure, but he made teasing him simply too easy. Any ounce of attention you gave him went straight to his head. It was cute.

“Well, I think that under all the knives and the mysterious attitude, you’re interested in me too. I mean, you haven’t even tried to kill me yet. Any good pirate would’ve taken their enemy down already.” he smirked, his smirk only growing bigger when he saw the shocked look on your face. He caught you. “Listen, gorgeous. If I let you take me out, will you sod off?”

“Only if you don’t fall magically in love with me, which you will.”

“We’ll see about that one.” you huffed. You were definitely interested, but you weren’t going to let him know that. “Meet me here next Friday at twelve. Bring a towel.” He nodded enthusiastically. “Next Friday, twelve, towel. Got it.”

You cupped his cheeks, holding onto his face so he was looking you in the eye. “I look forward to it. Don’t be late though. I don’t like to be kept waiting.” Pulling away, you gathered your things and left him standing there.

Let the fun begin.

a/n: i think i’m gonna do a part 2, but let me know! i’m sorry it’s a little short, thank you so much for reading MWAH MWAH MWAH

taglist: @skellseerwriting @sleepyking @ljaylmaoo @lesbpotmurdocklokistan @yokolesbianism @eretsupremacy89 @descendantsramblings @thegoddessofnothingness

#_emily’s writing_#descendants #descendants the rise of red #descendants x reader #descendants the rise of red x reader #james hook #james hook x reader #young james hook #young james hook x reader #young hook #young hook x reader #thank you to cafekitsune for the dividers!! <3

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the-fandom-is-now-my-life · 7 months ago

Note

The funniest thing about the Creator having a child thing (to me anways) is that the Archons act like their poor dear deity was an innocent in the whole situation, when you just KNOW that all the potential fathers (with the exceptions of Abyss Prince Aether and maybe Childe) were the ones being seduced.

Kaeya is a flirt, but he's not the type to bed someone willy-nilly, much less a deity. Nev is the Hydro Sovereign, he would have too much respect to try anything uncouth towards the Maker of All without their express permission. Kaveh would have to be blitzed out of his mind to even THINK of flirting with the Creator, much less bedding them. Childe, well...honestly it's a 50-50 split on that imo, he might if he thought it would go well and/or get him power of some sort. Traveler Aether would be focused on finding his sister, he wouldn't allow himself to be distracted by things like that...and Xiao? Xiao would never try anything that could even be mistaken as rude towards the Creator. Heck, I think getting a kiss on the cheek would be enough to make the poor guy panic.

So uh, I guess what I'm asking is...how did the dad's initially react to learning the Creator wanted to do the horizontal tango with them?

Help you are actually so right, in most scenarios I can only picture the reader being either shameless or forthcoming enough to say it to their face that they find the boy attractive or anything close.

I know there are at least a handful who while they fantasize about it wouldn't even dreamm of telling you that .

Their grace is so forthcoming

WC 1,2k

Flirty banter gets misunderstood for real flirting but they exploit the bug

Childe

“Your grace, you are shivering a lot!” he exclaims loudly as he pulls his harbinger coat onto your shoulders. The tsaritsa held a kind of ‘greetings party' with her harbingers, even if the atmosphere was tense and the chatting short, each of your sides being taken by the tsaritsa and Pierro. Sooner than expected everyone left. When you notice you left an accessory behind and meet face to face with the redhead alone in the room.

“Hm, I guess I'm a bit cold”

And without missing a beat or looking up from the clasp he was trying to secure he chimes faster than he can think “cold? But you are so hot!” but after he noticed his eyes seem to lack more will to live.

“I'm inc-”

As he attempts to apologize, your hand pulls on his wrist, getting him closer, his blue eyes wide, “You yourself are quite nice on the eyes, don't you want to tell me anything else?”

His Adam's apple bobs as he swallows the spit that pooled behind his teeth, his little Freudian slip ended up better than he expected.

Kaeya

“Oh my, what are you doing alone here?” Kaeya sits down on the chair next to you, only a lonely drink with you

“Mhm, Venti got into a fight with Jose six fingers about who was a better bard” you sigh as you sip your drink, looking down a window at the two bards singing outside trying to get the crowd to decide who was better.

“To leave such an beautiful person alone in a bar, I wouldn't be surprised if a drunkard tried to sweep you off your feet” he sips his alcoholic drink, the burning on his tongue soon settling warmly in his stomach before letting out a roaring laugh from the bottom of his chest “I'm joking~ I doubt anyone would dare attempt”

You let out a simple ‘mhm?’ before leaning your head to the side to look at Kaeya with a mischievous grin “oh, such a shame, I would have allowed you to do something so bold and a bit more” and your hand falls on his thigh under the table and his soon follow.

Venti

Would NEVER, under No circumstances flirt first for reasons

Xiao

-holds too much respect to dar think about you like that-

“Aren't you sweet?” the small apple falls on your hand, Xiao had climbed a nearby tree after hearing your stomach rumble.

“I appreciate your kind words, even then I think I'm too jaded to be considered anything akin to that” He bows his head. It's been a while since he accepted that he would never be clean of the blood he spilled during the war, but that at least managed to make him want to protect Liyue so they will be able to live peacefully.

“You may say that but isn't selflessly protecting liyue sweet? I would say it's sweet how you care about little Qiqi, I saw how you carried her up a cliff to grab qingxin. Undoubtedly pure sugar”

“Your grace…” his eyes soften as he looks down where you are.

“You are almost like candy I could eat up!”

Traveler aether

-shy/ has other things in his mind-

“I have to say aether, your house is surprisingly comfortable” the words slip past your lips before you can think about it. Even if it isn't how you would have furnished it nobody could say he had bad taste. There are lots of fireplaces and cushions and the seats and beds are quite comfortable, an odd combination of styles that sustained the idea of him being a traveler and cherry picking the most comfortable parts of each nation.

“Paimon had a hand at it too! If it was up to aether this would only be cushions and blankets! Paimon had to push for these plants!”

“Well it wouldn't be strange for a traveler to seek mostly comfort rather than looks”

Later into the night he leads you to another room on the upper floor, just a few meters away from his “how strange, I would have guessed the guest's room would be on the lower floor”

Aether just sighs, his braid swaying softly “Paimon wanted her room to be close to the kitchen so it was this or having the game room up here”

A few hours pass, there is a noise like paws on the roof but you pay no mind, Aether already explained that nobody could enter unless he allowed them to and most likely they were one of the many animals he kept inside the teapot. Softly you walk towards his door and knock on it, not without looking down the railing only to see pain passed out surrounded by a few fruits.

“Could I sleep with you?” You stand before his door wearing your piyama, as you say those words you drink in his disheveled appearance, a t-shirt a few sizes too big hanging from his shoulders down the middle of his white thighs, long blond hair usually collected in a braid now loose, some bits tangled and another flowing as they please.

“Huh…? If you are afraid of noises the cranes sometimes go to the roof and you can hear them”

“It's not that… it's more like I want to be close to you, in the same bed” his cheeks, usually milky white bloom peony red, and the last bit of hanging sleep fell from his eyes. He nods vigorously.

He has principles and openly flirting with you almost seems disrespectful

Neuvillette

Melusines are the pride of Fontaine, with their joyful disposition and chubby cheeks even if chronologically they can be hundred if years old they can blend in with 5 year olds seamlessly. Be it their tiny huffing and puffing when things don't go their way, to their attraction to sweets and how clingy they can be with neuvillette. Especially when he misses the usual monthly visit.

“I have already apologized, work stacked up and-”

“You prefer our sisters who stay in the city! It's unfair” the melusine who took over his lap started kicking the air until Neuvillette combs her hair with his fingers.

“You know it isn't like that… could you as a group behave for their grace? they are arriving soon” he attempts to calm her down while looking at the drawing another is showing him and how two others are braiding his hair.

“Never took you for the fatherly type” as you walk inside the grotto some melusines jump on you, they only see you as mister Neuvillette's friend and someone with a gift which you soon give them, it's a small ball with glitter inside, soon the melusines focus on that and start running around chasing it “aren't they a joyful bunch?”

“They seemingly never run out of energy so they can be tiring at times. My apologies for such display, I expected them to be able to be calm by the time you arrived but as you can see…”

“I don't mind, it's adorable, attractive even” he doesn't look too taken aback by your comment other than his slit pupils being thinner and longer than usual.

Diluc

Thoma

Alhaitham

Would actually flirt, holds you in high regard but still sees you as a human

Dainsleif

Abyss aether

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prolix-yuy · 6 months ago

Text

Olive Branch

Pairing: Francisco Morales x F!Reader

Summary: If Frankie doesn't like olives, then what does he like?

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: T, alcohol consumption, mention of drug use, incredibly tame for me, hints of spice. While this story is not explicit, my blog and the content shared on it is 18+ MINORS DNI.

Notes: I was challenged by @happypedrohours to write a story involving Frankie and olives, and what do you know, these are two of my favorite things! I was snickering to myself the entire time as the olive metaphor rolled out, but what the hell, we're gonna keep it in! Enjoy my friends, and Happy Pedro Hours!

Cross-posted on AO3

When it slides in front of you, you know it’s a good one. You watched the bartender make one at the end of the bar and it was just how you like it. Dry, cold, three olives on a hardy metal toothpick. You were practically salivating by the time you ordered your own and it slid in front of you, shining like the Holy Grail.

“Didn’t know you liked martinis.”

Head whipping around, you stutter out a laugh as Frankie slides in next to you. He perches an elbow on the bar, free shoulder coming close as the crowd tucks you into each other. Your eyes dart to his crinkled brown ones, then to your drink, and back again to distract from the proximity. His hand is tucked into his faded jeans, but it wouldn’t take much to cup your elbow or wrap around your waist.

“On special occasions,” you quip, tossing your head at Will and Tatiana surrounded by your friends. She’s showing the girls the ring, the men clapping hands on Will’s back and making him laugh. The air holds the fresh taste of new beginnings.

“Never had much of a taste for ‘em. Just gasoline in a glass,” he replies. Your face must be ten levels of indigent with how quickly his eyebrows shoot up.

“Do I look like a car to you?”

Frankie’s eyes twinkle, and it flips your stomach.

“Definitely a hot rod.”

You laugh it off, rolling your eyes. He’s never serious, after all. He likes to ply you with compliments just short of flirty and leave you high and dry at the end of the night. The first time it stung so hard you didn’t go out with the boys for weeks.

“He’s just a little fucked in the head, don’t take it too personal,” Santi told you when he finally wrestled the reason for your absence out. “Can’t stop chasing anything messy with two legs. Last girlfriend was a cokehead, even worse before that. He likes ‘em pretty and crazy, and he bags ‘em left and right. They always leave him worse for wear.” Santi’s eyes narrowed over his knowing smirk. “So now you like him?”

“Fuck no,” you spat out, arms folded tight. “I don’t deal with boys who play games.”

Yet here you are, again, with Frankie, ready to roll the dice yet again. At least he doesn’t know you’ve still got a soft spot for him ready to land.

“I’ll ignore the fact that you called Hendricks gasoline,” you scold, sliding your gleaming prize closer on its soggy black napkin. “There’s also vermouth, and olives.” You take a sip, the warmth of the gin and sharp salt of the charcuterie mainstay sweeping across your tongue. Frankie’s eyes drifting down to your lips on the rim of the glass.

What a cocktease. At least most men who eyefuck you actually follow through.

“Shaken, not stirred?” he quips in a rough approximation of a Scottish accent. You snort, instantly regretting it as the burn of brine and alcohol decimates your sense of smell. Trying to hide it under a tiny cough, Frankie’s face turns to the bar.

“Not much of an olive guy either, so you're 0 for 3 on convincing me.”

You don’t know why, but your stomach sinks briefly as you gingerly twist the glass stem between your fingers.

“Perfect, more for me then,” you shoot back brightly, but he looks back a fraction too soon before the disappointment flits away.

“C’mon, you know you were never gonna change my mind,” he teases, jostling you with his shoulder as he motions for the bartender.

“Never said I was,” you add absentmindedly.

Frankie will never be an option. He’s made it clear time and time again that he doesn’t choose you. But sometimes, when you let your mind drift, you think about how it could happen. Some dark room where he finally finds something he’s been looking for. The brushing of noses and near-misses before one of you finally acts and you’d know what his lips feel like. Then he would lick into your mouth and his flavor would dance with acidity and botanicals on your tongue and he’d moan at how good you taste.

But he doesn’t even like olives. Or you.

Frankie’s drink is a golden lager, malt rising to your nose. You like beer too. You like a lot of things. You could sit at this bar and talk about your favorite drinks for hours. You’re not just the martini girl. You’re so much more.

You need some air. Your daydreams are getting in the way of enjoying the night and Frankie’s none the wiser, so best keep it that way.

“I’m gonna bring my gasoline olives back to the party,” you say, ducking out from Frankie’s body without waiting for a reply. Maybe catching a glimpse of surprise, you strut back to the girls. The warmth of their excitement and enthusiasm reinvigorate your tight throat.

Your drink dwindles slowly, savoring the clean flavor and crushing the olives one by one between your teeth. One of the girls tries the dregs of your glass and wants one of her own, so you weave back to the bar so you can help her order. A holler rises from the boys around Will, and when you look you catch Frankie’s face again. He’s all beaming smiles, eyes barely visible from behind his crows feet and gleaming teeth. He catches your eye and his smile softens, and over the din of the bar he mouths “you good?”

You nod. Of course you are. What would Frankie know about that?

The drinks come, followed by cheers and hums of contentment. You will definitely be tipping well tonight. Before you can make it back to the group Benny cuts off your path, swooping one arm behind your back and your free hand into his.

“No no no, Benny, I’ll spill!” you shriek, feeling the telltale wetness of a sloshed drink over your fingers. “Shit, I think I got it on the back of your shirt…”

“Ah, I’ve had worse,” Benny says, mock-dancing with you to the barely audible music.

“How’s Will?” you ask, leaning over his shoulder to snag a healthy sip of the martini. Now a more manageable level, you let Benny lead you away from the bar.

“So in love it makes me sick.” You raise an eyebrow. “In a good way!” he adds, turning you so the man in question is visible. Tatiana’s tucked under his arm, and his mouth drifts to kiss the top of her head.

“You know what, I get it,” you agree, the both of you snickering as the tempo of the music changes. It might be a Hozier song? It’s hard to tell over the babble of voices.

“How are you?” he asks, feigned innocence a red flag flicked in front of your eyes.

“Peachy. Why?”

Benny’s hand squeezes yours in a soothing rhythm.

“Hey, don’t bite my head off. Fish mentioned you seemed down. Something about olives?”

The flash of heat rocketing to your face has to be combatted, so you choose comedy.

“Oh yeah, the fact that they never give me enough in my damn drink. Could drive a woman to tears!” Your put-on mid-atlantic accent doesn’t sell it. Benny chews on the inside of his cheek before leaning to bring his mouth to your ear.

“I know you’re gonna tell me to fuck off…”

“Then you don’t have to say anything.”

“...but you and I both know this ain’t about olives.”

You lean back, jaw set and eyes cool.

“You’re right. It’s about absolutely nothing.”

“Hey…”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

Benny lets go and you down the rest of your drink. It burns and you hate yourself for it, but it feels good to let liquid frustration carve through the center of you.

“It’s late, and bar snacks aren’t gonna soak up the hangover I’ll have tomorrow. I’m gonna say bye to Will and Tatiana, get a cheeseburger, and go home.” Benny puts his hands on his hips, blue eyes filled with a brotherly care you know better than to try and tamp down.

“And it’s not about olives?”

Plucking the toothpick full of metaphor out of the glass, you point it at him.

“It’s not about olives.”

Benny relents, and walks you over to the happy couple. Promises of more drinks and a bachelorette party are half shouted before you pick through the crowd and exit the front of the bar.

The air is just starting to get cool, alcohol thrumming in your blood. You love the way a martini buzz feels, your mind crystal and your body sharp as glass. It’s different from the smoky haze of scotch or the sluggish thudding of beer. Martinis make you diamond.

Which is why you notice Frankie immediately upon his exit, even though you can tell he wanted to go unseen for a few moments longer. He fumbles his hands into his pockets, ambling up to stand beside you while you glare at the Uber app.

“Got a ride coming?”

“Eventually.”

He nods and stares at the toes of his boots, which you observe surreptitiously. The progress bar keeps filling and emptying as the silence stretches.

“I’m sorry for shitting on your drink.”

You can’t help but snap your face to him, eyebrows raised.

“I sure hope you didn’t shit on my drink.”

The poor choice of words quirks the corner of your mouth as Frankie tries to recover.

“Jesus Christ, I mean…you know what I mean! I didn’t mean to be a dick,” he says, now contemplating the sky with resignation. There's still a fight in you, but you try to meet halfway.

“S’all good, I shit on your terrible beers all the time. We’re even.” You glance back at the app and shut it out of frustration. You’ll try again in a minute.

“I don’t hate olives, either,” he rushes out. You roll your eyes, shoulders slumping. God, could they just let this go? You’re embarrassed enough about it. Before you can make another joke, another deflection, he barrels on.

“To be honest, I’ve never tried…olives. I see them all the time - at parties, at the bar, at friend’s houses - and there always seems to be some reason not to try them. I’m always having something else, or just had something, and I don’t want to…I’m afraid if I try the olives, I’ll really like them. And I don’t know what I’ll do if that happens. And that’s been scaring me off from even trying.”

Frankie looks up at you, mouth parted and brow furrowed, as realization rises slow and fizzy.

“Because I think I could really, really like them. Enough that I’d want them all the time. But I’ve never had anything like that before. And I don’t want to hurt the…olives.”

Your heart is thudding in your ears, lower lip close to a betraying tremble before you force it between your teeth..

“You don’t want to hurt…the olives,” you parrot back and Frankie sighs, lifting his cap enough to rake his fingers through his hair before resettling it.

“Fuck it, you know what I mean, right? It’s not about…it’s not about the fucking olives,” he says, and one of his hands wraps around your shoulder. It’s hot and strong and your chest swells at the touch.

“If it’s not about the olives,” you say, tentative, voice dropping into a lower register. He’s closer, almost as close as in the bar, thumb worrying back and forth over your shirt. “Then why don’t you show me what it is about?”

You expected more hesitation, but with that permission he lunges for you, cupping your face with both hands as he crashes your lips together. It’s fast and messy, teeth pressed against your lips and his tongue slipping in to taste. He groans and your knees go weak, head spinning worse than any drink could hope to do. You clutch the lapels of his canvas jacket and pull him closer, sweeping strokes of your kiss filling your mouth with bitter hops. With a lurch he pulls back.

“M’sorry,” he mumbles against your lips, but he continues to clutch at you, arm banding around your waist to keep you snug against him.

“For what?” you tease, sliding your nose along his proud profile.

“Takin’ so fuckin’ long.” His teeth graze your jaw lightly, heat pooling in a place that’s demanding a more private location for proper penance.

“I think you owe me a lot more than one very good kiss, after everything you’ve put me through,” you contemplate, his grip tightening.

“Still waiting for your ride?”

Your fingers wander to the nape of his neck, and his curls are just as soft as you imagined.

“No.”

A gentler kiss follows, broader, somehow still able to make your head spin.

“Good, you’re coming home with me so I can properly apologize.”

The next morning as Frankie opens his front door for his breakfast delivery, he finds a pristine jar of olives resting on his welcome mat. The scrawled note - better start getting a taste for these! - is clearly in Benny’s handwriting. The memory of your body, soft and sleeping in his bed, pulls him back inside.

After everything that got him here, he could learn to like olives.

END

"This is where righteousness ends It’s a relief to wave this overdue white flag and My blind spots have tortured you enough How much salt could I pour in To think that I called myself a friend."

Alanis Morissette, Olive Branch

#francisco morales x reader #francisco morales x you #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #catfish morales x reader #triple frontier fanfiction #triple frontier fic #prolix fics #happypedrohours

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beautifulpaprika · 6 months ago

Text

The Island Castle; Jungkook

pairing: queen!f!reader x life-keeper?!jk

summary: The castle on the small island behind yours has been sitting there since before you were born, but you've never known what was in it. Everyone tells you there are monsters, but you have yet to see any. When you set out to uncover that mystery you find someone who explains everything and makes you feel everything.

warnings!: shower sex, unprotected, a storm!

word count: 7.7k

a/n: Someone else edited this picture! I got it from here (Pinterest)! On with the story!

“Your majesty?” Alana’s voice calls behind me. I turn to her, tea in hand.

“Alana, I thought I told you mornings are for staring and relaxing time,” I chuckle, looking back across the small body of water to the multi-storied castle sitting on a small island, only slightly different than our Castle Maine.

“YourMajesty,” she sighs, “you need to erase that castle from your mind, focus on the people who are focused on you,” she advises while taking a seat next to me.

“I am a face for the people, it’s not as if I actually do anything in government, we both know that. I bet the people don’t even know about it.” The castle, Castle Island as I like to call it, was hidden behind our own castle, Castle Maine as I like to call it, with such tall walls of rock and waterfalls here and there. The cove was beautiful but it held too much mystery. My advisers, my parents (may they rest in peace), the servants- they all ask me “Why are you so curious about that place and what’s in it?” and the answer is simple: because I was told not to be curious about it.

It had been there before I was born, and all I’ve been wanting is to see what’s inside.

“Sometimes it’s better for Queens to keep their secrets,” Alana pulls me out of my thoughts.

“I know I’ve asked you many times Alana,” I look into her starting-to-wrinkle face, “but are you sure you know nothing of what’s in there?” I gesture to the silent castle with my teacup.

“No, your majesty. When I started to work here I was told many stories of ghouls and ghosts. Even a man-eating man,” she shivers. “It’s best not to wonder, otherwise, you’ll get a headache.”

“Sounds like you know from experience,” I tell her, going back to looking at the castle. There’s a terrace on the front, but not a soul comes out onto it. No royalty, no servant, nothing.

“We need to get you ready soon,” Alana pushes her chair back in standing, “Suitors are waiting,” she squeals. I roll my eyes.

I need to know what’s in the castle across the waters before I’ marry another royal who thinks they can stop me from going.

***

When I was six, I discovered a boat along the coast of Castle Maine, however, when I dragged my nannies to the same spot, they said they could not see any boat.

It was disappointing and made me believe I was losing my sanity for a few months, but I kept seeing this boat. Even now. There is no evidence to suggest that it was not meant for me to explore with.

So, tonight I’m finally taking the small row boat across the waters. There was always a voice that said I should wait, but the voice is quiet now, my own invitation to the quiet, golden palace. The only thing lighting the way is the moon when I hop into the boat, paddling my way across.

“This is a lot tougher than I thought,” I murmur, my muscles aching from the strength going into moving. I look back at Castle Maine, the lights littering different parts, then I look forward to Castle Island.

Complete darkness. The air feels cold, the sound of something splashing off to my right. Maybe it’s best if I turn around. Back to light. Back to humans and not ghouls, ghosts, or man-eating men.

Then I think about the men waiting for me on Castle Maine. The suitors who want to take over the kingdom. Lord Alloy has been especially annoying today. There’s no fun in going back to it.

I realize I am already halfway out into the waters and that turning back would make me a failure.

“My best advice? Something you should never do as queen? Never. Go. To that island,” my mother’s face haunts me. It’s pathetic of me to go against her dying wishes, but I keep rowing. Castle Island is much bigger from the shore than from the high balcony in my bedroom. Now I can see that it most likely has not been cleaned in decades, the walls are painted in water mold.

I reach the shore, grabbing the lantern from the boat, not shining it yet so as not to alert anyone. There are steps leading up to the door, inviting me in.

Adrenaline pumps through me, and it’s enough to keep me going. The door’s creak is louder than any thought passing through my brain. I’m greeted with darkness and the sounds of floorboards creaking. My lantern moves from left to right, shining onto trinkets and wall decorations. Paintings litter the walls framed in gold. The place does not look so abandoned from the inside.

A skittering noise whips my head to stare down the end of the seemingly endless hall.

Just a rat.

“Calm down,” I whisper to my heart, “It’s only a small rodent. It won’t hurt us,” I laugh to myself.

“Unless you hurt it,” a voice whispers behind me.

I scream, whipping around in a panic. My panic doesn’t rest when I see there’s no one there. The words were right in my ear, how is it possible that there is no one there?

Footsteps to my left. I flash the spot. There is no one there.

Footsteps to my right. I flash that spot. Nothing.

“Come inside,” the voice whispers from above and fades ahead.

My breathing picks up, but I don’t want to leave without answers.

“Come on,” the voice is deep but playful. There’s a slight shadow moving with me, then ahead of me. I flash light on it, watching a vine with flowers spiral ahead, showing me the path. “I’m waiting for you, your majesty,” the voice whispers. I run after the vine as it grows faster. I wind through halls and large rooms, not paying attention to any of it.

The vine stops in an open, what looks to be, ballroom.

“Welcome!” the same voice yells out. It’s dark for a moment longer, then candles and torches light the entire room.

I gasp at the flowers growing up the sides and consuming the ceiling, the moonlight shining through the large windows. There is gold holding flames, speckled on the ground, and on the curtains on the stage where a man sits on the edge.

“Hi,” he grins, like a predator to his prey. I can’t bring myself to say anything to him. He’s ethereal. He’s what they would describe angels to look like. His white, long hair matches the white I can spot in his eyes despite standing 30 feet away. He’s got a boyish grin on his face, piercings in his ears, and clothes that are also white. If it weren’t for the unnatural colored eyes and hair, he would look like any person I would see in the streets.

“Who are you?” I ask. I realize it’s rude to greet him that way and immediately apologize, “I’ve been staring into this castle for years and I’ve never seen you.”

He shrugs it off and hops down from the stage.

“Maybe you weren’t looking hard enough,” he suggests. It’s a suggestion that irritates me considering I’ve been looking plenty hard enough. “Funny, that you’re asking the questions when you’ve broken into my home,” he moves to one of the flower walls, caressing the petals of a pink one.

“Yes, I apologize,” my eyes fall to the floor in embarrassment. It was foolish of me to think no one lived here. “This castle has been dormant ever since I was born. There have been no boats coming or going from this place, and you’re hidden in a cove behind my own castle,” I try explaining. However, he rolls his eyes at all of it. It’s clear the explanation was not worth it.

“You don’t truly think that story is going to work on me, do you?” he asks.

Confusion sets in and my eyebrows pinch together. “It’s not a story, it’s the truth.” He laughs at my words, and I don’t think I’ve ever felt so insulted.

“You’re the queen, and allegedly no one has told you a single story about me?” he laughs again. “That’s very believable, your majesty, but I’m not an idiot,” he plucks the flower off of the vine and crushes it between his fingers. “What’s the real reason you’re here?'' His steps are heavy as he approaches me. I don’t dare to move from the spot. His face hovers over mine and I can't help the gulp.

“I’m telling the truth,” I say again, looking into his eyes. “I’ve never seen or heard of you.”

The ballroom is silent for a few moments, his eyes narrow.

“Are you-” I hesitate, “Are you the man-eating man?” I whisper. He blinks then scoffs, before a laugh escapes him.

“So nothing then?” his body is still so close to mine and it’s becoming difficult to breathe. “Let me explain it then,” he moves to the stage. The plants on the wall crawl over to the stage and I gasp when one wraps around my middle, pulling me to him.

“What the-” his arms wrap around my middle, pulling me closer to him. My mouth closes, afraid to breathe into his mouth.

“Pay close attention, Your Majesty,” my heart pace picks up as I follow his eyes to the plants on the stage. “And listen closely.”

They form a shape that looks like a king on a throne and the other figure that represents the man standing next to me.

“More than a century ago, I was invited to Castle Maine-”

I flinch. How does he know I call it “Castle Maine”? And a century ago? How is that possible?

“I was invited there on the premise of needing help with the crops and the nature of the kingdom,” the plants change to the king kneeling before him rather than the other way around. “They were desperate,” he turns to me, “I should’ve left them to die,” the smile wipes from his face now.

The image changes to him raising his hands over the ground, crops rising up.

“But I was put on this earth to sustain life, and that’s what I did,” as he talks, more and more questions appear in my head. “The king was, as expected, very grateful,” the scene changes back to the throne room, the king bowing his head slightly. Then a vine wraps around the white-haired man’s middle, pulling him back and out of frame.

“He wanted more,” his fingers squeeze into my side, “But the oh-so wonderful-king justified his actions to his kingdom,” the Castle Island appears in forms of many flowers and vines, “‘The ‘Life-Keeper’ has been gifted a large castle where he wants to reside until we need his assistance again,’ are the words he used in his speech. That witch he was married to put a spell on this castle, trapping me in it forever. The royals would be the only ones who could

Take me off of the island when they needed something,” his eyes lock onto the scene of him on his knees, wrapped in rope and vines.

“You couldn’t escape when you got off the island?” I ask.

“They realized that too,” he laughs. “Ever since I’ve been trapped here, I’ve never been taken out for fear of killing everything they had instead, or spreading the truth that the royal family are selfish and greedy!” he looks straight into my eyes when he says it.

The vines release me, and I don’t feel any lighter from the information just fed to me.

Memories of my parents who have told me time and time again not to go or even wonder about the castle. Meanwhile, we’ve been holding the gatekeeper of life hostage.

“There’s a reason there’s so much life around your castle,” he tells me, I think of the cove and beyond and how full of life it is compared to other kingdoms. “I can’t hold all of it inside me. So if I go, all of it does too,” he reveals. A gasp leaves my mouth at the thought of losing all of it. How would I explain to the people that the reason they aren't starving has just left.

“Why would you tell me this? I thought you wanted to escape.”

“I’ll never do what your family did to me,” he looks away now to the flowers crumbled on the stage floor.

“I have to think,” I rush out. Castle Island has become a suffocating space and I can’t form my questions properly. “I need to return. Everyone will wonder where I am,” I make my way to the exit and he doesn’t stop me. Surprise enters my body but he did say that he would not do to me what my family has done to him, i.e. taking someone hostage.

“Do you know the way out?” he calls. I pause in my tracks because, no, I can’t recall a single room that I saw on the way here.

He sighs behind me, a vine leading out of the door.

I look back to him before I leave and say, “I’ll be back tomorrow, I promise.” His eyes narrow, skeptical. “Who will I be visiting when I return?”

“Jungkook,” he tells me his name.

“Thank you, Jungkook,” and bow to him, a flash of surprise painting his face.

I follow the vine back home.

***

Lord Alloy has invited me to a picnic on the shore in the back of the castle. The same shore that faces Castle Island. I had initially wanted to skip it, but the idea of possibly seeing Jungkook somewhere lurking excites me.

The sand gets all over my dress as we sit down together. He pulls out a basket, slowly revealing all the food he packed.

My eyes wander to the quiet castle across the water.

“I’m sure you know why I’ve invited you to be here,” he says, pouring two glasses of wine, setting one next to me. I try not to roll my eyes at the tone as if he has control over me.

“I can guess,” I say, a smile plastering my face.

“Now,” he takes a sip, “I am aware there are many suitors at your beck and call ready to take the throne beside you,” I want to scoff again at his choice of words ‘take the throne’. No one will be taking it from me, I’ll be granting them access.

But . . . semantics.

“I know you’re considering many options,” I’m not, “and I wanted to meet with you, hoping you might consider me as one of your top options,” he takes another sip. “There are quite a few benefits if you and I were to unite. . .” he rambles on, but my ears are already tuning out when I spot a moving figure in the second story window of Castle Island.

A curtain moves in the window beside it and a white head pops out, watching. If I hadn’t known now what to look for, I would’ve never seen Jungkook snooping.

I don’t know what comes over me when my posture instantly corrects, my eyes relaxing to fluttering lashes, and the tense feeling in my shoulders washing away to relaxation. I’d have never thought of the possibility of him watching me, but now his gaze is all I can feel despite him being so far.

“Financially, I don’t believe there’s anything to worry about- eh. Your majesty?” Lord Alloy’s voice calls me back to attention.

“Forgive me, Lord Alloy, but I think there will have to be more than financial stability to convince me of marriage,” my eyes stay on Castle Island. Jungkook shows his full figure now through the window.

Is it odd that I feel safer knowing he’s watching me while I’m in this meeting. I certainly trust him more than I trust Alloy.

***

Despite my muscles aching from rowing the night before, I keep my promise to go visit Jungkook.

I’ve gone over a script more times than I can count throughout the day, preparing myself for any answers. I wanted to find the truth yesterday and I received about half. Now my curiosity is hungry for more.

Alana has been noticing something strange the past 24 hours asking, “You haven’t drank your tea. Do you have a headache? A stomachache?” when I told her “no” she gave me a strange look.

I know she’s suspicious of me now but that isn’t stopping me either.

I feel giddy when there’s a vine that sprouts from the ground when I arrive. I bring my lantern and the bag of food I brought with me out of the boat and inside the beige palace.

It takes me left, right, left to a room that simply takes my breath away. A large swimming pool sits in the middle, while flower walls climb up the sides to a glass ceiling where I can spot almost every star. It’s unlike anything I’ve seen before.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” I jump at the whisper in my ear. I turn to face Jungkook whose head is tilted. “You’re obviously going to bombard me with questions today. It would be kind of me for us to at least have a chat in a comfortable place rather than sitting on the ballroom floor.”

I’m already put off by the fact he knows I’ve come to mainly interrogate him.

“What’s this?” he points to the bag.

“Oh!” I set the bag on a table near me framed in gold, “I’ve come to the conclusion that because you have been trapped here in this castle with no one coming in or out,” I start to pull out pastries, fruit, and cheese from the bag, “you must have not tasted food in ages.”

He scoffs.

“Your majesty, I have no need for food. I’m a gatekeeper of life. I can also grow food,” he explains. Humiliation rises in me for not thinking of that, my cheeks burn, most likely causing a deep red. He sees this and his smile slowly drops. “But I appreciate the gesture,” he grabs a piece of cheese, biting into it with fervor.

I raise an eyebrow at him.

“Cheese isn’t grown,” he defends. I snort a bit, then quickly cover my mouth.

He drops it onto the table, rolling his eyes.

“I didn’t mean to offend you-”

“Enough,” he puts his hand in my face and I yank it down.

“I’m a Queen, sir! And a lady nonetheless! Your hand in my face will do you no favors,” I tell him. “There are many things I can tolerate, but I’ve been trying to show kindness, so I beg of you- no hands in my face,” he only blinks at my words then laughs.

“I like you, Queen! You’ve got a bit of spunk I haven’t seen in the royal family in quite a bit. Granted, not many have ever visited me, but you’re refreshing.” He doesn’t know how much his words affect me. To be compared to the other members but as a compliment has not been something I’ve experienced much.

“I saw you,” he munches on more cheese, “today with that man on the shore,” his tongue pokes his cheek before taking another piece. “Who was he?” he doesn’t make eye contact as he grills me. It pushes me to wonder why he wants to know.

“That was one of my so-called ‘suitors’, the name is ironic seeing as he doesn’t suit me very much,” I tell him. His eyes glide to me from underneath his eyelashes, scanning my body, then focusing back on the foods I’ve brought.

“Are you going to marry him?”

“No. He’s never caught my interest. Especially, because he thinks he can take charge so easily if he were to marry me. While it would have been nice to humble him, marriage is a bit too permanent,” I explain. The plate of cheese is gone before I know it.

Jungkook seems . . . relieved? His shoulders are a lot less tense than before, and that smirk from yesterday paints his face yet again.

He turns to the pool and starts to slip his shirt off.

I panic and turn away from him.

“A warning would have been nice!” I yell out, still turning away. A deep chuckle escapes him.

“We’re going swimming, what did you expect?”

“I’ve never seen a man shirtless,” I admit. It’s not embarrassing to admit. Everyone around me knows I’ve been sheltered by my parents inside Castle Maine my whole life.

“It won’t kill you. I won’t judge you either,” he says, before I hear a big splash! Sprinkles of water fall onto my arm, making me gasp. I turn back around to see Jungkook swimming away under the water. He swims to one side, comes up for air, then swims back, and comes back up, his arms resting on the side of the pool.

“You want me to ask questions while you’re like this?”

“You could join me,” he suggests, a smirk painting his face.

“In my dress?” I scoff.

“Don’t be silly. Without the dress,” he says it very nonchalantly, but my heart drops into my stomach, the feeling of something new being foreign to me. “You don’t have to act like a queen here. It’s not like I can tell anyone but the plants around me,” he floats backwards. As sad as his words are, they are true.

I debate with myself for a few moments, and eventually feel that it would be nice to swim after the hot summer days we’ve been having. It’s also a way to show this Life-keeper that I’m willing to do what he wants in exchange for more information.

The dress starts to come off. I try to ignore his burning gaze on me. I feel the heat rising through my body, but push it down. It’s only swimming. My undergarments are exposed now when the dress pools at my feet. I throw my shoes off, then look at the waters. The adrenaline pumps through me at the thought of Jungkook watching me and I jump in.

The water consumes me. My arms fling around.

I don’t know how to swim.

How could I forget I don’t know how to swim?

My arms search for solace, but there is none. The air is leaving me.

Finally, a hand grabs my wrist and pulls me up. Air finally reaches my lungs, but there’s still so much water. I cough up water, Jungkook placing a hand on my cheek at the same time.

“Shh,” he soothes me, and I feel clean air filling my body. My arms wrap around his neck.

Life.

“You know you’re supposed to know how to swim before getting in a pool, right?”

“I wasn’t aware,” I tell him with a hint of sarcasm. “I was blinded by the adrenaline. I’d never been swimming before,” I still cling to him like the life line he served for me earlier.

“They really haven’t let you do anything, have they?”

“My job was to be a Queen. Not to compete in the summer olympics,” he laughs at that. I start to relax, my hands still on him, but he floats around easily. “Now you know something about me. I’d like to ask about you now,” he nods, fully expecting this. “You said ‘more than a century ago’ last night. You don’t look older than 25 years.”

“Not even 20 years? I’m insulted,” I give him a look, “I’m the keeper of life, Your Majesty, that includes myself,” it makes sense now that he says it. I suppose gods don’t die, so why would he?

“How old are you truly?”

“It’s rude to ask a lady her age,” he teases. I roll my eyes.

“Fine, next question,” he pulls me closer when he changes directions, and I try not to focus on our hips aligning so well. He could enter me-

“You’re taking a minute to think of that next one,” he says. My mouth opens up, but closes again. It’s hard to focus. I’ve been on several dates with past suitors waiting for their chance to be King, but nothing can compare to what’s happening in my stomach and the thoughts wanting to take over my brain.

“Um, well, you called the castle I live in “Castle Maine”, but as far as I know, I’m the only one who calls it that,” I explain.

“You wrote a letter and sent it here. Do you remember?”

I recall when my mother died and I was about to become queen. When my mother made that dying wish, I tried to give up on Castle Island. I sent a letter apologizing that I had to give up on it.

“‘You’re a dream that I’m not allowed to wish on anymore. Signed, Castle Maine.’ That’s what you wrote,” he says, his voice is low as if the memory is one that hurts him. I watch his eyes avoid mine and my heart sinks.

“Obviously, I lied. I couldn’t get this place out of my head. Did you know they say there are ghouls and ghosts here? A man-eating man?” he laughs at that.

“A natural tactic to keep others out of course,” his eyes come back to land on mine, “and yet here you are.”

“Here I am,” I echo. His eyes fall down to my lips, simultaneously licking his own. My heart picks up speed but not before I bring myself back to why I’m truly here.

“If I were to help you get out, what would happen?” his eyes rise again.

“The life around the kingdom, of course, won’t be flourishing as much as it is now. The cove will not be growing as many flowers. Your castle may fall apart-”

“Wait, what?”

“Castle Maine is rooted down by plants that I’ve grown. It won’t fall all the way apart, but the damages would be unsafe to live in,” he explains. My mind is reeling from even more information. “This castle is one big hold of my power, and it spreads out. Think of it as a tree and its roots are spreading out,” his power and how important he is to the kingdom is prevalent now.

“I see.” Jungkook must notice my uneasiness as he swims to the steps of the pool, setting me down so my feet touch the steps. I climb out, the water falling from my body back into the water. He follows behind me. I reach for my dress, still sitting on the ground.

Jungkook grabs my wrist, stopping me.

“It’s midnight, and that dress looks expensive to be washed with pool water,” a vine creeps into the room holding clothing on a plate - a simple shirt that looks like it will reach down to my knees. I take it with careful moves, imagining the vine trapping me if I make one wrong move. “It’s very late. There’s a storm that might be coming. We have plenty of rooms here in the castle and you can return home in the morning.”

I’m about to reject the offer, but he’s already making an escape. Alana will have to worry about me for a few minutes in the morning.

***

I doubted Jungkook when he said there would be a big storm, but the thunder and lightning are evidence of no lie.

I can’t sleep. Every loud boom! yanks me out of sleep.

I get up, holding my lantern in hand. My mission now is to try and find the kitchen for a glass of water. There is no vine to lead the way this time, but it’s a chance to explore the place. I find a room full of paintings. I explore the canvases, some of them painted over many times.

I continue on, finding other bedrooms, until finally, there’s the kitchen. His is much bigger than mine, but it’s more empty. There are hardly any plates or cups in the cabinet, but if I think about it, there was never a need for him. He was all by himself.

“Can’t sleep?” Jungkook appears behind me.

“The storm really isn’t letting up,” I explain. “I just needed something to do,” I peek into his fridge, filled with lots of fruits and vegetables. He wasn’t joking when he said it’s what he could grow.

“I’m not a big fan of them either. There was a fire here,” my attention is off of the midnight snack now. “Lightning struck and I had to take care of it myself. It wasn’t big by any means, but it makes me paranoid to this day,” he explains.

“I’m sorry.” I’m not sure what else to say to that. There’s a guilt that the king who put him in this eternal loneliness had his blood running through me. I can’t help but feel responsible despite not being alive at the time.

“Nothing you could have done,” he says, but it doesn’t help the sinking feeling. Lightning strikes, and thunder shakes the room, I flinch back and frustration consumes me. Typically, a storm is over after a few minutes, but this is enough to wash a house away.

Then realization hits. The boat!

“I need a path to the exit!” I call out. He calls my name, but I’m already running, following a vine slithering up and down the wall. When I reach the outside, the boat is just barely hanging onto the shore.

It’s my only way back to the castle.

I’m drenched when I reach the shore, the rain making my clothes heavier on me. I step into the water and try lifting the boat, but the water keeps pulling it back.

“Hold on!” Jungkook calls, he joins me on the other side, “On the count of three! Three, two, one!” We both heave the boat onto the shore, the bottom scraping the sand until at least 90% is hitting land.

When it feels secure, we run back up the stairs and inside, our breaths heaving.

“Thank you,” I say, relieved that I thought about it on time. I turn to him, preparing to give gratitude with eye contact but his eyes aren’t focusing on mine, they’re a bit lower to the white shirt that is soaking in water and sticking to my skin.

I would feel completely embarrassed if it weren’t for the fact that now my eyes were traveling to the shirt sticking to his skin. A perfect outline of his chest and abdomen peeking out. Saliva almost spills from my mouth, but not before I pick my jaw back up and meet his eyes again. He looks just as embarrassed as I feel.

“I recommend we change clothing,” I tell him. He visibly gulps, causing a wave of nerves to run through me.

“I have a few spares in the bedroom,” he says, a bright smile on his face. I can’t help but to wonder why he didn’t send one of his plants to his room to get it.

Thunder sounds from outside, and I hasten my steps after him. My eyes stay on his back muscles as they move through the halls. If you were to ask me what rooms we were walking through, I wouldn’t know how to respond. My fingers tingle to run them through his pale hair.

Walking into his bedroom is not what I was expecting. Considering he is the only person who lives here, I expected his room to be the biggest and most decorated space. It’s the size of my biggest bathroom in Castle Maine.

“Don’t look too disappointed,” he interrupts my thoughts, chuckling at his dresser where he takes a few pieces of clothing out. “The shower’s right-” he stops, the clothes are immediately placed on his bed and I take a step back when he approaches me quickly. I startle when he grabs my arm. “Where did this come from?”

I look to my arm where a large gash runs down my arm. I hadn’t even felt it, but now there’s blood dripping down to my fingers.

“It must have been from dragging that boat up,” I explain.

He doesn’t say another word, instead dragging me to his bathroom.

“Sit on the counter,” he demands pointing to the wood before crouching to look in his cabinets. His tone is a shot to my core.

“Jungkook, I don’t think-”

“Now,” he interrupts. I blink once. Twice- then move to lift myself onto the counter. It doesn't take long for him to conjure up some bandages and set them beside me. “I’d prefer my queen not be harmed while she’s here,” he whispers, a smirk on his face. I’m shocked that he isn’t calling me ‘Your Majesty’ anymore. ‘My queen’? I like that a lot more.

“So, has your perception changed of the royal family then?”

“Not at all. I still think most have been the most selfish beings to ever walk the planet earth,” he says, dumping water on my wound. I scowl at him. “Chin up. I said ‘most’,” he taps the bottom of my chin.

I try resisting the smile surfacing.

“However, I could be being manipulated by your beauty. It’s easy to fall into you,” he doesn’t even glance up to watch my reaction. In a way, I’m glad he doesn’t, it’s a full face of pure shock. “The shirt doesn’t help,” he expresses.

“Jungkook! Who knew you could be so bold?”

“Have I not always been bold?” his hands are gentle as they slide up and down my arm.

“Jungkook?” I try grabbing his attention again, but he’s still examining my wound.

“The rain water can’t be good for it, we need to get you in the shower,” his voice is low. He said ‘we’? I imagine the water running down his front, his body glistening as he takes care of me. My brain flashes images before I can stop it and there’s a different wetness between my thighs that isn’t a result of rain water.

“Are you going to help me?” I ask. His head doesn’t move, but his eyes do, looking up at me. I suck in air, waiting with bated breath. “Usually there are people in Castle Maine who help me,” I lie. Every rational thought has officially flown out of my mind, the only thought in my head is him in the shower with me.

He scoffs instead.

“And do you want me to think of you as a queen when I help you?” he asks, now his hands are planted on each side of me, palms face-down on the counter as he leans his body in. I shiver when his breath hits my face. There’s an itch on my neck where I want him to place his lips.

I shake my head ‘no’. “I want you to think of me as a woman,” my fingers have a mind of their own when they slowly caress the skin where his shoulder and neck meet, sliding up to the wet tendrils of his hair. His eyes slightly close at the contact, leaning into the touch.

“It’s been a long time since anyone has touched me. I hope you understand that what you’re starting would be very cruel to stop,” he whispers. I can’t bear to think of how long it has been for him without contact with another person, but it’s comforting to know that he might be out of experience just like me.

“I didn’t plan on stopping,” my fingers hide under his hair, massaging his scalp, he leans into it with a moan. When he recovers, his hands slide over my thighs, moving them apart and standing between my legs. A rush of nerves and excitement courses through me as he stands there, his hands roaming, touching, groping. I’ve felt hands on my legs and body before, but not in this manner, not this boldly. The touches before were shy and cautious because I am queen. But Jungkook doesn’t seem to want to waste any more time. It’s as addicting as they say.

“Let’s get ready for your shower, then,” I feel a tug on the shirt still stuck to my skin. His eyes trail down. I feel the heat of his eyes moving up, left, right, down.

I raise my arms up.

“Go ahead,” I say, letting him do it. The cold air is even colder when the shirt is lifted off of me, the water not helping me stay warm by any means. I hear him mumble something when it comes all the way off. My chest is bare and in the open now, my nipples hard when exposed.

He throws the shirt off to the side with a plop somewhere.

“Y/N, if you don’t know this already, you are one of the most beautiful women I’ve laid my eyes on. And I’ve lived a long time,” he leans closer, lips hovering over my neck. I try not to pull him in and come off as needy already. It’s something I want to take more time with.

A peck is what he gives me. Just one on my collarbone, then two, then three.

“Jungkook,” I whine, impatient.

He comes up, meeting my eyes, and drags my legs forward, forcing our hips to meet. I can feel the result of our touches between his legs and curving up to his stomach.

He’s about to say something, but I can’t take anymore of this talking when he’s right in front of me. I take the opportunity, planting my mouth on his, my breasts pressed up against his chest when both of my arms stretch over his shoulders.

He doesn’t respond at first, but it quickly changes, his hands roaming to my butt and pulling me even closer, his hips grinding into me. Finally, some friction. He groans into my mouth.

“I need you, right now,” his hands come off of me, removing his shirt and pants and throwing it the same direction as mine. I try not to faint at his body fully uncovered. Not because I’m horrified, but because he looks just as expected when it comes to how they describe immortals to be built. Perfect.

“You can have me,” I whisper into his mouth, his face already looking as if we’d just finished when we haven’t even begun. When I kiss him again, the heat from his chest spreads onto mine, our skin rubbing against each other.

The same heat is gone when he turns to go turn the shower on. I sit on the counter needy and half-naked. I watch him moving and bending, his muscles contorting when he reaches me again.

He lifts me easily, setting me on the floor. Without warning, he pulls my underwear down, but he doesn’t come back up. Instead, his fingers are gentle on my calves, sliding upwards.

“Jungkook,” I breathe. His nose and lips graze my thighs. It’s hard to concentrate on anything when his face is so close to being in-between my legs.

“Before you leave,” he says, the words vibrating against my thigh, “Grant me at least this one wish,” he pulls me closer. At this point I’ll give him anything he wants. The castle, the throne, me. He lifts my leg over his shoulder. “Let me taste you.”

I don’t get much of a chance to respond before his mouth is already on me and my hands are grabbing onto the edge of the counter for dear life. The shower runs in the background, but I can’t help the moan that releases, overpowering the water.

His tongue moves and sucks. Where? It doesn’t matter when I feel a finger slip in. I’d like to think that I would be warned about what’s going to happen next, but the surprise sends more adrenaline in my veins.

He groans, the vibrations traveling through me. He lifts himself from the ground, dropping my knee. The bottom of his face glistens from his personal feast, he doesn’t say anything, but I feel the warmth from his hand move into my hair, pulling me towards him.

“I want you to taste yourself,” his voice is a whisper. His lips press into mine and I indulge him. The kiss is messy, and it gets even messier when he begins to move us.

I break from him, moving to get on my knees, but he pulls my arms back up, shaking his head.

“What is it?”

“You don’t have to do that. Trust me, if you do, I won’t last very long.”

He turns me around, my butt on his hard-on. The moment is still and silent.

“Jungkook?” I call for him while his nose runs up and down my throat. “Are you okay?” I run my hand through his hair.

“More than okay. I’m trying not to rush this.” Our bodies are sticky with sweat and rain water. I’m able to break away and keep his hand in mine when I get in the shower. The water feels amazing against my skin, but Jungkook feels better. “Don’t leave in the morning,” he pleads, holding my face in both of his hands.

“The thought never crossed my mind,” I tell him against his lips.

I thought it would feel strange to have a man’s naked body against mine, but it’s much more comfortable because it’s with him.

Our mouths mend together for a few more moments before his hands move down. I’m nervous about what he wants, a possible slipping happening. However, when I take the leap and jump to wrap my legs around him, he shows no struggle- the perks of practically being a god.

“I don’t think I can wait much longer, Jungkook,” I whine, my back on the cold wall.

“As you wish, my queen,” I hold onto his shoulders when he separates us. I decide not to watch, looking up when his penis enters me. It’s painful for a moment. The cry in my throat on lockdown for fear of embarrassing myself.

He looks at me, his eyelids hooding those white eyes. I nod, a signal that I’m ready. His movements are slow first.

I notice the vines creeping up the walls and the flowers blossoming. They cover the shower, turning it into a dome of flowers with only the two of us in it.

Our moans and groans mix and echo and bounce off of the walls of plants.

“I don’t know how much longer-” he whines into my neck, grabbing onto my left breast, then sliding down to rub circles on my clit. I feel a buildup in my stomach.

“I won’t last- ah!” I moan. His ministrations and thrusts are getting faster. I can’t stop the wave that crashes into me and I grab onto his hair, scratching my nails down his scalp as he groans onto my collar bone while filling me up.

He sets me down, but we’re in the same position while the shower runs down our skin- the sweat and fluids washing away.

My eyes open and I gasp at the colors on his arms.

“Jungkook!” There are drawing patterns encircling his arm, all the way up to his shoulder where I have to blink twice to make sure I’m looking correctly. His hair is black now, and his eyes are dark. The color in his skin no longer looks flushed and pale.

And the drawings!

“How- What-” I stutter.

“I’ve got some of my life back.”

***

The rain goes on, but the lightning has slowly dialed down since our escapade in the shower.

I can’t stop looking at this new Jungkook. He was always more handsome than anyone I’d ever met, but the new look makes him more handsome than even my wildest dreams can conjure.

I look up at him, tracing my fingers on the black ink running up his arm at the same time he’s rubbing my neck. He looks blissful, on a high.

“I’d like to take you out of this castle,” I propose. His head whips to look at me and his back rubbing stops.

“Say that again?”

I sit up, making sure he can read my lips when I say “I want to take you out of this castle. A royal has to do it, right?” He nods slowly, still skeptical. “I don’t want the kingdom to fall apart, Jungkook, but if I had stayed in this castle by myself for as long as you have?” I shake my head, not wanting to think about it. “I came here looking for an answer, and I found much more than that. And what you do with your freedom is not my business, you don't ever have to see me again,” he raises a hand in the air sitting up.

“That's not going to happen,” he tells me, placing the same hand on my face, a thumb on my cheek.

““I’m saying to keep it in your back pocket. If I were to take you out of here, I wouldn’t want you to feel trapped in another space.”

“We don’t have to,” he proposes. I raise an eyebrow. “If you travel with me, we’ll come back often and I’ll grow the crops for your kingdom, I’ll do anything. Just go with me so I won’t have to be alone again,” the fire shines on his face, helping me scan for any insincerity.

I think on the offer, not wanting to abandon my duties as a queen, but they certainly won’t miss me either.

“You don’t have to say yes, but I would be elated if you did. I'll teach you how to swim, I'll show you things you never thought you could see. You won't be trapped anymore,” he continues. I stare at his newly dark hair and eyes, thinking. I suppose I am more similar to him than I thought.

“And we’ll come back every few days? How?”

“I’m the gate-keeper of life,” he laughs. I laugh with him, falling back onto the mattress.

“I’ll go with you,” I tell him.

“Anywhere?” he asks, laying back down beside me.

“Maybe not back here,” I laugh. He agrees and kisses me on the forehead.

“You think we could trap that Alloy in here?” he whispers, and I laugh before falling into a sleep surrounded by warmth.

#bts #bts imagines #jeon jungkook #jungkook #jungkook imagines #jungkook x reader #bts smut #jungkook bts #jungkook smut

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rosegoldrosieee · 7 months ago

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so high school

while flesh-eating walkers had seemingly crushed your long-held dreams of experiencing romance as a teenager, carl grimes made you feel so high school.

♡ carl x f!reader, fluff, implied suggestiveness, friends to lovers (sorta), ambiguously alexandria, reader has a spine

a/n: wrote this yesterday hiding in the bathroom during lunch on my school-licensed chromebook for maximum immersion

it was times like these, standing outside on someone’s back porch to get away from boisterous conversations and forced interactions, that reminded you of stupid high school chick flicks with cheesy one-liners, twenty-something actors playing sixteen-year-olds, and predictable love triangles.

you never got to navigate and, most importantly, surmount pubescent awkwardness, nor gush about crushes at sleepovers, because by your twelfth birthday, the dead somehow began to roam the earth.

out of sheer necessity, you’d eschewed any shot at teenage romance for survival skills, and effectively turned into a wallflower when you rejoined civilized society.

a gentle tap on your shoulder snapped you out of your reverie.

“hey.”

there stood the very reason you were even thinking about early-2000s romance movies in the first place: a chronically flannel-clad, one-eyed cowboy, notorious for merely sharing the same last name as the de facto leader of alexandria, now two feet in front of you holding a shot glass of fruit punch.

“didn’t mean to scare you.” he says with a sheepish grin plastered on his face.

“the only thing that’s scaring me is what you’re using as a vessel for your fruit punch.”

“everyone used up all the solo cups so i had to dig around in the cabinets,” he replies nonchalantly, holding up the glass. “why are you out here?”

why were you out here?

…

you can’t even remember.

“i don’t know.”

it’s hard to think, much less remember, anything when carl’s looking at you like that, arms crossed and leaning forward onto the banister, blue eyes boring into your own.

“did you even hear me?” he taps your hand that’s resting on the ledge gently, his lips quirking up with the ghost of an amused smile.

your eyes flick up to meet his attentively. “…what?”

“wow, you’re really out of it today,” he laughs, sipping from his shot glass. “forget it.”

you shift your weight, shaking your head. “well, i’m listening now, so tell me.”

his fingers are fidgeting with yours, you realize. tapping gently on your knuckles. intentionally, unintentionally? it was cute either way.

he tilts his head. “i just want to know what you’re thinking about.”

you shrug, as dismissively as you possibly can. swallowing down the butterflies that threatened to crawl into your throat.

“getting away from this stupid ass party.”

he raises an eyebrow, tone skeptical. “and?”

you narrow your eyes. it was a bad habit, using vitriol to mask your emotions. you were well aware. “what do you mean, ‘and’?”

“‘cause you’re smart,” his lips curl into a smirk. “that’s not all you’re thinking about. you’re never all…spaced out, like this.”

fuck you, carl grimes.

“i’m just tired,” you fib. your eyes drift to your hand, intertwined with carl’s, before quickly looking away. “you’re reading into it too much.”

“only because you’re not acting normal,” he teases, a dimpled grin gracing his features before he adds, “and you definitely would’ve pulled away by now if you didn’t want this.”

you steal a glance at your entangled hands again, heat rising to your face before you ask, skeptical, “what are you trying to do, exactly?”

“what do you think i’m trying to do?”

you glance to the side furtively, tongue-tied, still able to hear the muffled revelry through the shut screen door, before your eyes trace over his features again.

you wanted to wipe that shit-eating grin off his face so badly.

tugging at the collar of his unbuttoned flannel, you shift your weight to the balls of your feet, connecting your lips to his fruit-punch-stained ones.

you swear you’ll never drink hawaiian punch, or any drink with red-40 in the ingredients list, again without imagining the taste of him lingering on your lips.

expression tinged with a gradient of conflicting emotions when you pull away, you open your mouth to say something— and then he pulls you in this time, words dying in your throat with a soft whimper.

the party fades into an afterthought until you hear the screen door open just around the corner, thudding against the frame. quickly, you disentangle yourself from his arms, faces still flushed.

it’s rick, his rugged, stubbled face and piercing gaze (so it must be hereditary, you wagered) flickering between the two of you suspiciously, nodding at you curtly.

“carl.”

thank god for your quick reflexes — those, at least, hadn’t deteriorated just because you were sheltered by alexandria.

carl swallows, freckled face flushed as he quickly looks at you, panic etched on his face. the evidence of your little affair conveniently disguised by the shadow of his cowboy hat and the darkness of the night.

“dad, can’t we stay a little longer?”

“think the party’s ‘bout over.”

you peer into the ajar casement windows, abandoned solo cups decorating the vacant living room, watching abraham stagger into the mudroom and nearly take a shelf with him when he topples forward. rosita, unamused, rolls her eyes, grumbling something unintelligible before dragging him along.

before the grimes family gets into a fight, you take it upon yourself to leave first, retrieving your cardigan that was hanging on the banister. “see you around, carl. bye, mr. grimes.”

both of them wave as you disappear into tree-lined streets, intermittently illuminated by uniform streetlights.

as soon as you’re out of earshot and out of sight, you let out a pleasant sigh, smiling from ear to ear like an absolute idiot as your hands reached up to feel your flushed cheeks, still hot to the touch as you giggle to yourself at the incredulity of it all.

at home, once the high had worn off, or more realistically, ebbed for the time being, you shed your cardigan, scrutinizing the crimson patches blooming on the side of your neck in the mirror, smiling like a fool.

these were the only kind of bites you’d ever tolerate.

#Spotify #the walking dead #carl grimes x reader #carl grimes #twd #twd fanfiction #carl grimes x you

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thefanbasewhore · 1 year ago

Text

Halloween Special - Bitten. 👻🕸️

pairing: Hyunjin x female reader

summary: your boyfriend bites you for the first time which causes him to go into a biting frenzy.

content: s!mut, biting, blood play, p in v, vampire Hyunjin

a/n: next up werewolf chan

Hyunjin is much like the moon. He comes and goes, sometimes it may be just a quick moment, much like a crescent or in your face and bright just a full moon but he always finds himself seeking comfort in the warmth of skin against his own.

It's been a month since he revealed his identity to you. He was hesitant at first, but you are no fool. If it wasn't his smooth pale skin and amber eyes that gave him away; it was definitely when you found him fangs deep inside a women's neck.

Ever since that day all he's thought about is you. The only person he could be his true self but truth be told he was smitten the moment he met you.

As he climbs through the window, a chilly breeze follows. Your body reacts almost instantly, small bumps forming against your skin as he closes it tightly.

Sound asleep you don't notice the new presence. It's usually like this, he sneaks in and curls into you. Morning comes before you realize he's there, the curtains pulled tightly to block the sunlight confirm his presence before your fingers find his hair.

But it's early - too early for him to be here. The sun just took its rest nearly minutes ago.

You look so cute. Silently sleeping, curled into the satin pillow. A pajama shirt with cherries, button down to reveal just enough of your round breast and matching shorts, your cute little pink panties pepping through. He sighs softly, just the sight makes Hyunjin hard.

Without a second thought he is spooning you from behind, rutting his semi hard cock against your ass.

"Petal, wake up beautiful." His voice is so soft as it whispers against your skin. "Missed you so much."

His hips grind against your clothed core as he lets out a pathetic whine. Needy and wanting attention as he kisses your lazy lips. "Babyyyy."

His lips against your neck are nothing new, pressing and sucking softly. Finally your eyes flutter, soft lashes tickling his skin. "Hi, Darlin'."

"Hi, you're here early. I was trying to stay up."

"Looked so cute sleeping." He grinds his hips once again before rolling to change the position. Hovering over you, eyes on yours with his sweet smirk. "Got me so hard."

The soft moan of his name is what makes him snap, pressing his mouth against your neck. He swore he wouldn't feed from you for the pure fact that he was afraid he would go too far but it's been days since he's last fed.

Hyunjin's fingers press into the fat of your hip, no doubt blanching the skin underneath as he moves his hard cock over your clothed clit once again. He closes his eyes, trying to concentrate on how good he's feeling but the pesky sound of blood running through your jugular makes his teeth retraction, popping out from his gums. He groans, your blood smells so good.

He can't think - you take over all his senses. Arousal seeps from you, the smell high in the air making him moan against your skin. "Darling, petal, god." He groans.

When his teeth puncture your skin it makes you yelp in surprise. He's never drank from you before, always going on about the consequences, etc. He always jokes about it when it comes up, claiming he's already too obsessed with you if he drinks your blood you'll have to marry and stay his forever.

But with his teeth buried in you, sucking softly as you fight against him, pushing against his chest to create some distance but you have nothing on his supernatural strength.

"Hyunjin!" You hiss, feeling the warmth of the blood trail that follows down your neck and into the valley of your breast, which your shirt was already split open from his wondering hands.

What you least expected was the warm coil that formed inside your stomach. Suddenly you feel hot, forehead burning and dizziness taking over at the loss of blood. The dark haired man never stopped moving his hips against your own - clit throbbing against the material of your pajama pants before the stimulation became too much. Finally the squirming of your orgaism breaks him from his trance.

"Fuck," forehead resting against your own as he breaths heavily, "Did you just come from that? You dirty, dirty girl."

Blushing under his stare but it's cut short as his tongue follows the trail of blood, licking the thick liquid, nimble fingers pushing your shirt sleeves over your shoulder and sliding it down the length of your arms before throwing it across the room.

He licks up the remaining, tongue finding the bud of your leg nipple and sucking softly. He pulls away and one hand cups the flesh gently, "Look at this, you're loving it baby girl, do you like me bittingyou? I'll bite you some more honey."

His teeth puncture the skin of your right tit, breaking the skin and suckling every ounce he can manage. There's something strange about it, it's painful but at the same time you have never felt such pleasure. The goosebumps are instant as you shiver underneath him.

"Are you okay baby?" His hand moving the hair from your forehead. To be honest, you're a little dizzy from the loss of blood but you nod in agreement. "I didn't take to much, right?"

"M okay." You mumble against the shell of his ear.

"Okay, honey. Can I put it in? I'm so hard." You nod in consent as his long fingers pull at your shorts.

He doesn't even need to warm you up. Between the stickiness of your last two orgasms and his own leaking wetness.

Hyunjin doesn't offer a warning, the sudden feeling of his heavy cock is a burning but pleasure able stretch that causes a shriek to rip through your swollen lips.

His eyes roll back into his head as your pussy pretty much sucks his cock up inch by inch. Two cold fingers tease the bundle of nerves and rub circular motions as he sinks every inch of his cock until he’s nestled so deep you feel him in your stomach. The delicious burn makes you lightheaded, so full of him it’s hard to form words.

You curses under your breath but he barely notices, eyes fixated on the filthy sight of him stuffed so deep inside you. Hips against hips as he tries to press the rest but the intrusion sends sparks up your spine. He stills, eyes finding yours for one last time before testing the waters with a deep, sensational thrust.

The squeal that falls from your lips is one of pleasure and pain but straight up sinful and he groans on his own accord as your cunt cleches around his throbbing cock.

"Such a tight pussy, honey. Did she miss me?"

It's more retoric as his hips snap faster and faster. Watching his fat cock disappearing and reappearing from your silky cunt over and over again. The sounds that fill the room are mixes of Hyunjins and yours followed by the slapping skin and squelches of your leaking juices. Pleasure tingles up his spine every time he hits that spot that makes your vision blur and drool gather at the corner of your lips.

"Pretty girl," he presses a gentle kiss against the corner of your lips. "So pretty."

Just like that, his legs begin to shake. Covered in your slick as your own body erupts with heat. Stomach aching with the familar feeling of incoming relief. With every push of his hips come deep, rough strokes that hit that spot that makes your stomach ache.

He loves the sounds you make, the quiet but beautiful moans. The way his name is whined and permanently on your tongue. His hips continue rolling as he watches your pussy drip into the sheets. It smears his abdomen, leaks down his thighs following the dripping blood from your neck.

Back arching off the mat, pushing him deeper inside of you, if that’s even possible. A hand rest against the small of your back giving him a better angle to continue to fuck you senseless. “Hyun! oh, so fucking good!“

Half crescent form from the pressure of his nails digging into the flesh of your hip as you whine. “I’m so close!”

The whine has him groaning with relief feeling his own balls tighten at the words. “Baby, I have to cum. Can I bite you, will you be okay?"

The smell of your blood is intoxicating as his teeth rub against the other side of your neck.

“Can I, baby?" He visibly chokes as another wave of heat warms his belly.

The moment his teeth break through your skin, your orgasm hits like a truck - clenching around him so hard that his hips sputter but he continues to drive his dock so deep inside of you that your legs begin to shake.

He hits a spot so deep and explodes, lining his thick ropes of cum into your pussy and stuffs you to the brink. There’s so much as it drips from where the two are still connected but he doesn’t dare move. He pulls away, blood smeared across his lips as he presses his wet lips to your cheek.

"You taste so good baby." But the moment he looks up, his eyes widen. Both his hands hold your cheeks to keep your head from falling back. Eyes hooded as the dizziness takes over you.

"Shit, Can you hear me? I'm so sorry, baby. I didn't mean to take too much, you should have said something." He's frantically taking his wrist and breaking the skin with his teeth, "Drink, baby. I took too much."

"'m okay." You try with all your strength to push his arm away but he's not having it.

"Drink." Your lips wrap around his skin and suck softly to taste the metallic liquid. "Don't ever do that again, tell me if it's too much."

"Sorry, H." You snuggle yourself into his chest as he brings you closer.

He presses a gentle kiss against your forehead as he cleans the mix of blood and spit from your skin. "Go to sleep, angel. I will make you breakfast when you wake up. My blood will help but you need to rest."

"I'm okay."

"Stop being so stubborn and let me take care of you." He burries his head into your hair before pressing a kiss against the shell of your ear. "Goodnight, my love. Sweet dreams."

"Night, baby."

#stray kids fanfiction #stray kids imagine #stray kids x reader #hyunjin x reader #stray kids smut #hyunjin x reader smut

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