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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 months ago

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Death Wish 8

Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of crime, violence/abuse and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob!Bucky Barnes

Part of the mob drabbles au

Summary: you’re desperate for a way out of your life and you ask a powerful man for help (plus!reader)

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Photo Inspo

Kitty huffs, a rare moment of agitation, and blows it out sharply. She thrusts her hands forward and hurls the string of pearls onto the couch. She curls her fingers in frustration and stares at them, like a puzzle.

“My goddamn hands won’t stop shaking,” she utters.

You cross the room to her, wordlessly, and take the necklace. You move behind her to clasp it in place over her collar. She wears a straight cut black dress with no ornament. The pearls are a delicate touch to the otherwise plain outfit.

“What do you think he wants?” Adrienne finally asks the question none of you dared.

You look at her helplessly. They can never know you did this. They can’t ever know that the reason they are so scared in that moment is your fault. They might have longed to pull the trigger themselves but actually doing it is different. It’s... irredeemable.

“He said we’re under his protection,” you say flatly.

“Oh, come on, you’re the most skeptical of all of us,” Kitty accuses, “you believe that. Daddy was just another soldier.”

“Maybe but what else are we going to do but obey?” You counter.

Kitty winces and Adrienne’s eyes bat. Your older sister shakes her head, “you’re not the one to give up.”

“I am.” You insist. “If it keeps you two safe then I will do whatever needs to be done.”

They’re silent for a moment as they look from you to each other. They nod. “Us too,” Kitty says. “We have to take care of each other.”

“Like always,” Adrienne agrees.

Silence floods the room again. There’s a car waiting outside a few minutes later. You march out in another sombre parade. It’s a different kind of funeral that day. You’re not mourning the past, you’re mourning the future and what could have been and will never be.

You sit together in the back seat. You hold hands. You never went to many of these ‘business’ gatherings. Outside of a wedding, you weren’t invited. Your father was only invited by the few people who knew him in the outfit. He was only ever the big dog when he barked at his three daughters.

The car stops, you get out. You squeeze your sisters’ hands before you detach. The man who drove leads you to the immaculate white facade of the grand hall. You’re somewhat confused by the venue but this is not a day for questions. You had your curiosity beat out of you long ago.

Inside, you’re led to a set of open doors. You enter and another man stands to beckon you further inside. There are bodies all around, all in dark suits, muttering under their breath, coughing, tapping fingers.

Your eyes skim around cautiously. Barnes sits at the head table. He’s calm and unbothered by the new arrival. He’s indifferent to his men as the one next to him whispers in his ear. Rogers stands behind the boss’ chair as he speaks to him, gripping the elaborate orb that tops the post of the straight-backed seat.

Barnes’ gaze meets yours only as you and your sisters are put at a table of your own. It feels like some hearing. A court case. Are they hearing the crimes of your father? But he said...

No questions. There’s nothing the answers can change for you. Adrienne fidgets, wringing her hands restlessly, and Kitty sit so straight it looks like it hurts. None of you look past the table. Your daddy would smack your mouth for your wandering eyes.

“Alright, now that we’re all here, let’s gut through the bullshit,” Barnes’ voice brings the voice to deathly lull. The men shift their bodies and their focus. The doors close subtly behind the boss’ timbre. “Now, don’t think I brought you here because of a single soldier. You know better. All of you.”

His voice is stringent but restrained. Still, it’s enough to instill fear. You gulp and dare to look up at him. He stands and puts his hands on the table.

“First, a crooked accountant. Bald clown messing around. Then I got men going out, coming back short. Then dead.” He snarls. “I don’t care about the small men. With due respect,” he pauses and glances in your direction, “but I know they don’t think for themselves, too. I know it was one of you. This isn’t just chance.

“One of you popped Warren ‘cause he found you out,” Barnes continues.

You sense movement like a soft breeze. Rogers edges along the wall, unnoticed. You stare in slow motion as he moves quickly towards another table.

“And I found you out too,” Barnes hits the table with his fist. “I went through the numbers and I found the fucking thief.”

You frown. It’s... lies. He told you that day. At the funeral. Your daddy was the thief. Now he’s telling them something different. He used you. It makes a good story. A mysteriously dead soldier, missing money... makes it easy to trim the fat.

“Milo,” Barnes points and a chair scrapes and teeters.

Rogers grabs the capo from behind, closing his hands around his neck. He drags him easily, like a rag doll. They aren’t so different in size and yet the blond moves the other easily as he bulls around the table and brings the man to the center of the room.

“You been pocketing my money.” Barnes stands straight and gestures casually.

Rogers tosses the other man, Milo, to the floor and kicks him so he sprawls. His assault is methodical. He doesn’t let up. He stomps and batters the man into the polished wood. The noise of cracking bones and breaking cartilage itch in your ears. The accused hacks and chokes on spit and blood.

Your sisters smother gasps and startled sobs. You’re only mortified by your own indifference. Are you so callous to feel nothing for a man chosen to pay for father’s death? For your actions? You just can’t. You know every man in this room is just like your father was. Cruel. Mean. They deserve it just as much as he did.

“Enough,” Barnes orders and Rogers steps back, combing his long hair away from his face as he puffs. The man on the floor is a puddle of wheezes.

“Your houses, your cars, your accounts, all of it, will be turned over to Warren’s daughters. For his good service to me. He died finding you out. He died for the good of the outfit. He smoked out the mole,” Barnes says. “And you orphaned his daughters, just like you meant to do to every man in this room.”

Silence. Stillness. No one moves.

“You are all dismissed. On your way out, you make sure to pay your disrespects to that scum,” Barnes growls. “And look at him, hard and long, because the next fucker I catch with his hands in my pockets will be right there with him.”

There’s a moment before anyone moves. The first man to rise is greying around his temples. He comes out from behind the table and nears the shaking form on the floor. He spits on Milo then sends his pointed leather shoe into the man’s stomach. He marches out without looking back.

The next man follows suit. Spit, kick, go. One after another the men disburse in the same manner. The noises, ptuah, crack, tap, tap, tap, form a sickly rhythm. You can only sit and watch.

You reach to your sisters and take their hands again. You glance between them. They look on in horror. They aren’t made for this. Your eyes flit back to the head table and find the king looking over his court. No, he’s looking at you.

Barnes dips his chin and his eyes gleam. He is the master. No one dares to challenge the narrative he’s written. Whatever he says is all the truth they need to worry about. Same goes for you.

#bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #series #drabble #au #mob au #death wish #mcu #marvel #avengers #captain america #winter soldier

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so-long-soldier-writes · 1 year ago

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Our Little Secret

kai parker x reader

summary: you should've known wearing a short little skirt would rile him up. but then again... maybe you did it on purpose. (80s!kai) (step-brother!kai)

tags: teasing, possessiveness, praise kink, degradation, dirty talk, oral sex, blowjobs, vaginal sex

word count: 4.2k

“You look cute,” a male voice comes up behind you, “where are you going?”

You turn abruptly to see Kai, watching you from the other side of the kitchen. His gaze travels up and down your body, but he’s clearly staring at your ass. It almost makes you drop the soapy dish you’re holding.

“Um, thank you.”

“Where are you going?” He repeats, eyes darkening.

“Nowhere.”

“Y/N-”

“I’m serious! I’m not going anywhere, I just felt like looking cute. Trust me, Kai. Do you ever see me leave this house?”

His jaw relaxes, knowing you’re telling the truth. “So you just felt like romping around in a short little skirt? Dad won’t be happy if he sees you in it.”

“Well Dad’s not here right now,” you point out. This is also true. Joshua was out for the weekend on coven duties. He won’t be back until late Monday.

“Mom won’t like it, either.”

“She’s never minded me wearing what I want. As long as it’s appropriate to wear around the kids.”

“She scolded Jo just last week for wearing jeans that were too tight.”

“Well this is a skirt.”

“I can see the bottom of your ass, Y/N.”

“Why are you looking at my ass, Kai?”

“Because you have it on display for me to see.”

“I do not! I’m just doing dishes and minding my own business!”

“You would get so busted for that skirt if Mom saw. Joey would be staring, too. You know he has a crush on you.”

“Are you jealous?”

“No.”

“Then stop talking about my skirt and just… go away.”

“I came to get a snack.”

“Then get it and go.”

Kai crosses the kitchen towards the fridge, and you finally think he’s dropped it. With his back turned, you bend down to put the plate in the dishwasher, then continue soaping up another. Little do you know that Kai’s watching you through the metal reflection of the fridge door. He licks his lips when your ass is on full display.

“Y’know this is my house,” he suddenly challenges.

You whip around to face him, annoyed. “So?!”

“You can’t boss me around in my own house.”

“Do you pay the bills? Yeah, I don’t think so.”

“I was here first. And I’m older than you.”

“Do you want an award?”

He eyes your figure again. “Are you offering?”

“Ugh! Stop it!”

“Oh don’t act like you don’t like the attention. Why else would you wear that pretty little piece in an empty house?”

“I didn’t feel like putting on pants.”

He chuckles. “Whatever you say, Y/N.”

You groan and turn back around, desperate to avoid his gaze any longer.

Kai’s not completely wrong, but you’re not exactly lying, either. Yes, it’s true that you didn’t want to put on pants. Yes… it’s also true that you wanted to gain attention from your step-brother. There, you finally said it. You do like his attention. It’s his fault, though. He’s always flirting with you, regardless if the rest of the family is home or not.

His eyes are always on you, at your back or front, whichever he can get. Countless times you’ve turned suddenly and caught him staring. A handful of those times, his own mother has tried to get his attention but struggled to pull it away from your breasts. His mother, of course, is none the wiser and assumes he’s daydreaming, but you know he’s not. He’ll smirk at you after, if he’s caught, and won’t let her believe anything scandalous was happening instead.

Kai’s also gotten physical with you more times than you can remember. He’ll slide past you in a crowded kitchen, hands in the air as he’s banned from touching anyone, but his groin will brush your ass as he slinks across the room. Twice, you’ve felt the outline of his cock in his jeans when he did it. Both times, your face got so hot you needed to step away from the situation.

He also has a habit of bumping into you. If you’re doing dishes or putting something away, he’ll suddenly appear, suddenly needing to do the same thing. Your shoulders or hips meet from his unexpected presence, and then he apologizes with a voice that does things to you. Either his morning voice, slightly rough, or his soft, midday voice, or the one heard at night, when he’s all talked out and dehydrated. Sometimes he’s close enough you can smell coffee on his breath, or mint, or even gin. Sometimes he lets his hand wander to the small of your back, or further down by your waist. When his family enters the room, he rips himself away from you. The bubbling warmth between you quickly goes cold and leaves you hungry.

“Y/N… Y/N… hello?!”

You blink twice, realizing Kai’s right next to you. A tupperware is in one hand, while the other waves in front of your face. “What?!”

“Jeez! Just asking if you wanted some of this.”

“What is it?”

“Leftover cake from Sarah’s birthday party. It’s chocolate,” he says the last part in a sing-songy voice.

“I know, I was there.”

“Do you want any?”

“No.”

“Awh, come on, Y/N… you know you do.”

“Fine. I’ll have a bite if you’re heating it up.”

His face breaks out into a grin and he mutters a celebratory, “yes!” to himself, then spins around to the microwave.

“Put it all on a plate and gimme the dish. What’s one more dish to wash?”

“Okay. And thanks for doing that.”

“Mhm.”

He leaves you alone while it warms. You turn slightly, wondering why he’s quiet, but see him on the other counter pouring two glasses of milk. You’re quick to face the sink again, not wanting him to see you looking at him.

“So why cake?” You question as the two-minute timer beeps. “Don’t you usually eat pretty healthy?”

Kai shrugs. “Usually. But one dessert was denied, so I was craving something to fill its place.”

“What the fuck was- oh.”

“I mean, I’ll have two if you change your mind.”

You look down, avoiding his stupid smirk.

“Kidding. Have a bite.”

Two minutes is the max time you get to eat in silence. After that, Kai swallows a big bite then looks back at you.

“In all seriousness, you do look really pretty.”

“Thank you,” you say, unsure how to take the compliment.

“Do you have a boyfriend?”

“What?”

“I’m just asking in case I have to kick someone’s ass! For like, brotherly reasons.”

You roll your eyes. “No, I do not have a boyfriend.”

“Good.” He’s then quick to follow with, “I mean, like, cause Dad would kick his ass, too. That, or turn him straight to dust. Poof! Did you know that Josette’s boyfriend had to go through three weeks of questioning just to take her on one date?”

“Yes, Kai, I was there. I’ve been living here for three years.”

“Right.”

“Did you see the time my brother got his ass beat for bugging me when I tried to eat?” You counter, challenging him.

“Joey?”

“No, dumbass, you.”

“Oh. Wait-” he puts his fork down as he realizes. “Sorry.”

You meant it as a joke, but his frown tells you he didn’t catch that.

“Hey, I’m gonna go back upstairs. If you need anything, just let me know.”

“Wait, Kai!” He doesn’t stop. “Kai!” You try again, reaching out to grab his arm.

He freezes, not used to such direct contact.

“I was joking, Kai,” you look in his eyes to say. “I promise. I really do like your company.”

“No you don’t, I bother you as much as I bother Jo.”

Your grip tightens. “No, you don’t. Kai, I’m serious. And I’m sorry. It went too far.”

Finally, he turns to you. “Honest?”

“Honest.”

“Pinky swear?”

You snort, then realize he’s serious. “Pinky swear.”

He grins at this, then slowly returns to the side opposite you, where he had been only seconds ago.

“As a matter of fact,” you continue, “you don’t bug me at all.”

He chuckles and looks at the floor. “I’m sure I bug you a little.”

“No, you really don’t.”

“What about earlier? That wasn’t annoying?��

Now or never to confess. You pick the former.

“Oh, no. I certainly do enjoy your attention. Even when it's on my ass.”

“Oh, do you now?”

You don’t answer. Instead, you bring your chocolatey fork up to your lips, licking the whole length, and sticking your tongue out to him. You keep eye contact with him, watching his cheeks flush bright red.

“Y/N…”

“What? We’re all alone… I’d be lying if I said I didn’t partially wear this little skirt for you.”

His adam’s apple bobs in his throat.

“Awh, what happened to the bold Kai I know that will rub his morning wood against my back in the middle of a crowded kitchen? Is he shy?” You tease.

“Y/N, you don’t know what you’re getting yourself into…”

“Oh, I think I do. Come on… I bet an afternoon hard is just as satisfying. Oh, but maybe we should wait a couple hours, for when I can literally taste the gin off your breath. Aw, nah, because then the window of opportunity will close. Jo will be home, and all those kids, and you’ll have to see your little brother blush at me without the pride of having owned me earlier in the day.”

“Y/N,” his voice is raspy. His hand ghosts over his pants, and when you follow the movement with your eyes, you see he’s rock hard.

“Come on, Kai… You want to be a good stepbrother and beat up my nonexistent boyfriend? Well be a better one and fuck me right now.”

He only hesitates for a second more before rushing forward, pressing your back up against the sink, and kissing you roughly. He grips the countertop with one hand, your waist with the other. The plate of chocolate crumbs clatters into the sink, piercing your ears, but neither of you care. Your hands find his cheeks to get a grip. You hold them gently, but they’re burning in your hands. He’s a good kisser, despite having no experience. Before you know it, you’re both out of breath.

“Kai,” you try to say his name, but it comes out in more of a moan. The two of you are separated, panting, and staring at the other.

“You okay?”

“Perfect.”

He smiles, then starts to trail kisses down your neck. Your hands find his hair and pull at the roots.

“Jump up,” he mutters. You do, and he catches your hips. He carries you to the other side of the counter, then sits you up on it. With gentle movements, he leans your back against the cabinet door. Had he sat you up by the sink, you would’ve had no support for your back. You give him a sloppy kiss as a thank you.

Kai smiles at you, but then instead of going back to your neck, he crouches just a little on his knees. As soon as you realize what he’s doing, you let out an involuntary whine. Your hands bunch up your skirt and he smirks.

“Smart girl.” He wastes no time pulling down your thong, then stuffing it in his back pocket. The cold air only hits your core for a second before his fingers find your clit, rubbing gently.

“Ohh, Kai,” you whine.

“That’s it, princess. Keep whining for me.”

You let out another, this time, between sealed lips.

Kai puts a finger in you without warning. “Louder, baby.”

“Kai, I can’t.”

“Oh, yes you can. No one else is here.” He puts in another.

You can feel the soft pads of his fingers on your walls. “More,” you whimper.

“Good girl,” he praises.

You squeeze your eyes shut as wetness gushes from your body. You’ve always had a praise kink, and he’s about to find out.

“You like that?”

You nod quickly.

“Well keep it up. Keep making those sweet little sounds for me.”

You nod again, eyes still closed. With your eyes shut, though, you have no warning when his nose is suddenly grazing your clit. As soon as it touches, though, you let out a loud moan, almost pornographic.

“Good girl,” he says again, hot breath up against your core. Then, it’s his tongue making contact with your clit. He teases the nub with the tip, then slides it between your folds.

Your hands dig in his hair and moans fly out of your mouth. “Kai!”

He doesn’t answer this time. All his focus is on you. Two fingers still explore inside, while his tongue laps up your wetness. Obscene slurping sounds fill the room, mixed with your own cries. Kai can’t even catch all of it with his tongue - some drips to the title floor with a loud splat, and you can feel the curvature of his lips against your skin.

The boy is an expert, despite probably being a virgin. He knows just how to flick his tongue; just how to curl his fingers.

“Kai, I’m coming,” you cry out, gripping the countertops. Your hands are sweaty and you almost slip. In an instant, his hands catch you, even the one that had been inside your heat. “No, don’t stop what you’re doing,” you mutter, eyes rolling in the back of your head.

“Sorry, princess,” he replies, putting them back. He then finds the pace he had before, and works to bring you back to the edge.

Moments later, your orgasm is the most powerful you’ve ever had. No other man, nor your own fingers have ever done justice to what he could do with his tongue. He sucks and finger-fucks you throughout your orgasm, paying no mind to the way you squeeze your legs around his head, nor the way you begin to ride his face as you come. Kai doesn’t let up until your legs are shaking, and your heavy moans become little whimpers. Only then, does he stand back up and smile at you.

“You okay?”

“Fuck, Kai.”

“Too much?”

“No. Never.”

“Too much for round two?”

“What?” You mutter, out of breath.

“We can stop if you’re tired.”

You fight to catch your breath, and in that time, happen to glance down. Your eyes go wide as you notice he’s pulled out his cock. Stiff as a board, red, and oozing with pre-cum, it rests in his hand.

“No, no stopping. Just… give me a minute.”

“We don’t have to, princess.”

“No, I want it. I want you.”

You then make an attempt to jump down from the countertop, but your arms are still shaky. He catches you in an instant, an eyebrow raised.

“Where are you going, little peach?”

A tired whimper escapes the back of your throat as you open your mouth to speak. Despite the grip he still has on both your arms, you manage to sink down to your knees. Halfway down, Kai realizes what’s happening and lets go.

“Aw, does my little bunny want to suck her stepbrother’s cock?” Kai takes himself in his hands and levels with your face. “You’re a good girl, you know that?”

You blush, and fight the urge to turn your face away.

“Eyes on me,” he says, seemingly knowing your thoughts.

You obey him, eyes bouncing between his face and his length. Your heart speeds up at the prospect of taking it. Of feeling it heavy in your mouth; feeling it hit the back of your throat.

“Can I?”

“Go ahead, princess.”

Your hands join his. Your eyes roll back in your head at how good it feels. When you look up to him, he nods, and you dart your tongue out to taste the pre-cum leaking from the tip. It’s thick, and salty, and if that’s just your first taste, you know you need to start working for more. You lick the head, swirling your tongue in circles. Your lips suck the first few inches.

“No more teasing.” He tries to be stern, but it comes out in a moan.

You then put a hand on his thigh for a better grip. The jeans underneath your skin are uncomfortable.

“Off,” you mutter, hands flying to his belt.

“Hm? Oh.”

But you’re faster than Kai. Before he can give you any help, you’re unbuckling the metal and peeling his pants down his legs. You’re sure to be careful at his cock, though, pulling it back through the zipper hole, then letting it free.

Kai steps out from the pool of his pants. “Better for you now?”

“Mhm,” you mumble, lips pressed on his length. The action sends vibrations all over and he can’t help but moan again.

Your hand on his thigh squeezes his skin enough that it’ll bruise under your fingernails. Kai only has a second to concentrate on this, though, because in the next second, you’re licking a stripe from his balls to his head. Your tongue is dense against a prominent vein, earning another sound from him. Kai’s hands dig into your hair. He fights the urge to buck his hips into your mouth.

“Y/N,” he warns. If you don’t stop teasing now, he’ll do just that.

Luckily, you catch onto his need. Your lips curl around his head, tongue flat, and you begin to move up and down on his length. You start slow, but as he gets wetter, your lips glide better. The hand holding him no longer has a use, the first time you take him all the way. It slips further back to tug on his balls, while his tip hits the back of your throat repeatedly.

Kai keeps his hands on you, buried in your hair, scratching your scalp. Profanities tumble from his lips; words that if his dad were to hear, he’d be beat for days. You smirk against his cock, knowing he can feel your lips curving.

“You’re a naughty little thing, peach. You like that?”

You respond by not losing pace, not slowing down for a second.

“Mhm,” he confirms, “what a good little slut you are. Taking her brother’s cock so well. Tell me, princess, is this something you think about at night? How many times have you touched yourself to the thought of this happening?”

Again, you don’t answer.

“One? Two? Three? More?”

Your hand on his balls travels up to squeeze his ass. The skin is soft between your fingers, and you quickly put your other hand on his other cheek.

“I’ll take that as more than three times,” he chuckles.

You pinch his cheek unexpectedly, making him jolt. His reaction makes you giggle. When you look up to see his reaction, there’s a smile on his face, too.

“You look beautiful on your knees for me,” he praises. But then his hands find your face and he slowly eases you off his cock. “So, so beautiful. But I’m getting close and I need to be inside you.”

You nod, wanting the same.

Kai then grabs you from under your armpits, helping you to your feet. When you’re stable, he hoists you back onto the countertop. Not a moment later, he’s kissing your lips, sore, and red from sucking. Then, at the same time that he hitches your skirt back up your thighs, he presses kisses all around your face. You giggle, his lips tingling your skin, and wrap your arms around his neck.

“Are you ready?” You shake your head ‘yes’. “Need a minute?” You shake it ‘no’. “Okay. Tell me if you need me to stop.”

“Okay.”

Kai holds your back steady. His cock is in his other, glistening with your spit; teased, and in need of release. He pushes into you slowly, letting you adjust. He keeps an eye on your face, watching for signs; hoping for pleasure, prepared for pain. Your eyes flutter as he passes your folds. Your mouth hangs open, spit dribbles from your bottom lip. The pair of you moan at once, both relishing in the feeling of his cock inside you. He smiles at the simultaneous sound of pleasure.

“Are you doing okay?”

“Mhm.”

“Words, please, princess.”

“Yes, Kai,” you manage.

“There you go. Good girl.”

“Go faster.”

“Already? Alright. Gotta give my good little slut what she wants.”

You duck your head in embarrassment. The way he switches between praise and degradation does something to you that you can’t explain. Your core is so sopping wet that he slides in and out painlessly. He pulls out nearly all the way, then slams back into you hurriedly.

“Ah, ah, eyes on me. I want to look into your pretty little eyes while I ruin you.”

You whine at his words and tighten your arms around his neck.

“Perfect. Keep making those sounds, Y/N. You know the drill by now.”

Kai finds a pace that suits you both. Sweat drips from his forehead and his mouth hangs open, out of breath, but he isn’t slowing down. You’re grateful that he’s holding your back, otherwise you would’ve fallen by now.

“Kai!” You cry, hooking your legs around his waist to bring him even closer. He groans, and you decide to feed into that dirty talk he seems to like. “You fuck me so well. You’re a perfect fit for my tight cunt - oh!”

As expected, he loves it. “You bet I am, princess. Have you ever had anyone else fuck you this well?”

“No! You know just what I need.”

“Not even that boy you went to prom with last year? I heard you telling Jo about your little after-party with him.”

“I just imagined he was you, Kai,” you admit. “And any hookup since, I just pretend it’s you fucking me into oblivion.”

Fire burns in his eyes. A possessiveness that tells you all you need to know - he owns you now. You’re his girl. There will be no more pretending, because he’ll be the only one fucking you.

Kai continues to pound into you, but he’s getting sloppier by the second. He’s close, and you are, too.

“I’m gonna come, Kai,” you pant, running a hand through his hair. It’s wet with his own sweat, and when you push it up, some of the strands stay.

“Do it. Come for me. I’m close behind you.”

Permission granted, you orgasm a second time. Your body shakes and moans tumble from your lips. His name is mixed in with them; you chant it over and over like a prayer.

“I don’t want to come in you, baby,” he manages to say. “Where should I-?”

You lift your shirt up over your head before he can finish his sentence. Kai’s eyes immediately go to your breasts, confined within your bra, but pushed up from the underwire. In the same moment he pulls out, you unclasp the hook on your back. Your tits bounce out from their cage just to be pelted with cum a moment later. You moan again, pleasured by the warmth of his seed on your body.

Kai’s hands fall to the countertop as he tries to keep himself upright. The sounds falling from his lips are obscene, and beautiful, and you love every one of them. His eyes roll before looking into yours. Both of you take a minute to recover.

“Your tits,” he finally says, still catching his breath, “are beautiful. Should’ve taken that bra off a long time ago.”

“There’s always a next time,” you suggest, hoping to see that glint in his eye.

The words take a moment to register in his brain. When he looks back up at you, though, you see it. The possessiveness; the mischievousness. You’ll never belong to another man again.

“Definitely a next time,” he repeats.

Satisfied with the answer, you feel a small tension in your jaw relax. You look down at your breasts, sticky with drying cum, and swipe a bit of the load on your finger. Kai watches you suck it off, then go back for more. Once your chest is clear, you smack your lips.

“You’re crazy, Y/N,” he leans forward and nips one of your tits. You giggle, then cover your front with your hands. Kai quickly grabs your hands, then sucks on the other tit. “That’s why I like you. Part of it, at least.” He drops your hands and looks you in the eye, completely serious.

“I like you, too, Kai.”

He helps you off the counter in his next stride. You’re smoothing out your skirt, and he pulls up his pants, when he suddenly asks, “was what you said true?”

“When?”

“About the prom. And the hookups. Do you really imagine me?”

“It’s the only way I can get off.”

His face breaks out in a stupidly happy grin. “Does Jo know?”

You snort. “I wish. But of course not. It’s my little secret.”

“Well now this is our little secret,” he points a finger between the two of you.

“That it is. And I just happen to be amazing at keeping secrets.” You throw him a wink, and then the two of you spend the rest of the afternoon talking, with the occasional break for a make-out session.

#kai parker x reader #malachai parker x reader #kai parker #tvd fanfiction #kai parker smut #80s!kai #step-brother!kai

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acourtofwhatthefuck · 1 year ago

Text

Practice On Me — Part Thirteen — Azriel x Reader

Summary: Backstreet’s back, ALRIGHT! Or rather, the Bat Boys™️ sort their issues out. Tathaln’s ball is officially announced. Azriel gives Kaeda a piece of his mind. Fin has no business being the sexy dad he is. Roza’s worried about reader.

Word count: 6.3k.

Warnings: None for this part.

All is silent, save for the rhythmic tick-tick-ticking of the clock. Cassian has always hated that clock. Finds it fucking annoying.

But it fills the vacant hole that exists in the absence of conversation. That hole is open and gaping between Cassian and Azriel. It’s not a table that sits between them — it’s a dangerous, yawning chasm.

Az stares at Cass, and Cass feels uncomfortable. He’s seen that cold gaze be levelled on people hundreds of times, thousands. To be on the receiving end feels a little like staring death in the face. He actually kind of wishes that Kaeda hadn’t been sent off to the dorms to sleep off her drunken state, because at least then he wouldn’t be the only one here, being subjected to…this.

So, he stands up, so abruptly that his chair almost topples over, and asks, “Want me to make you some tea?” The question feels stupid the second it leaves his lips.

Azriel’s eyes track him, drink in every uneasy shift and twitch. It’s not that Cass is afraid of Az — though anybody with half a brain cell would be — just that he’s not good in these situations. Situations where he has to be serious and…and listen.

“Cassian.” The shadowsinger’s cold voice stops him before he can move. “When, in our years of friendship, have you ever once made me tea?”

Cass peers over a broad shoulder and shrugs half-heartedly. “First time for everything…”

“Sit.”

The word brooks no room for argument. Cassian does, indeed, sit.

It’s then that Azriel heaves a deep sigh, his entire body taut as a bowstring, and says, “I’m sorry.”

Cass blinks. “What?”

“I’m sorry—for what I did in the mead hall. I…had no right.”

“…But Y/N and I…”

“It’s not for me to dictate whether the two of you should or shouldn’t lie together. My…jealousy…is my problem, and mine alone.”

This is hard, Cassian realises — for Az to say this. For him to face it. And Cass can relate to that. Not everyone can be as silver-tongued as Rhysand. The Mother knows, Cass himself isn’t.

But he also isn’t an idiot. Some people may believe him to be, and that’s their mistake, because being proved wrong is usually the last thing they remember before waking up to a healer standing over them. He’s aware enough of his surroundings to know that something was brewing between Azriel and Y/N for years before Cass took her to bed…or kitchen counter, or…whatever.

“I need to be better,” Cassian offers, “at thinking before I act. Thinking about who I might hurt with my decisions. I’m working on it.”

Az studies his friend, and he feels no anger. If anything, it’s guilt that claws at the shadowsinger. He gave poor Cass a pretty good hiding over something that was, essentially, none of his business. And it could have all been different if Az simply wasn’t a coward, afraid of his feelings.

Something he needs to work on.

And perhaps he’s doing that as, rather than burying the topic, he asks, “What…what actually happened? How did you end up sleeping together? I mean…do you have feelings—”

“No.” Cassian cuts him off, blinking. “Gods, no. I love Y/N, you know that. But not romantically. I just…I felt so damn useless that night, Az. If you’d seen the way Y/N was…the self-loathing. I didn’t know how to help.”

Immediately, Azriel’s brow pinches. “Self-loathing?”

“Because of what her father did to her. When we were flying to Fenlaros, and she was the only one being carried in…”

Azriel slumps back in his chair, feeling like a godsdamned idiot.

He blinks forward and wonders what the fuck the point is in being born a shadowsinger when he obviously can’t read situations very well. Within seconds, it’s clicking into place.

“And then you started that fight with that Fenlarion male,” Cass continued. “and Kaeda just declared that it was her you were fighting over…and everyone has a limit, you know? I think that night was just all too much for Y/N. And she was so upset, so downtrodden…talking about how she hated herself. And I’m not good with words like Rhys is, and I’m not as observant as you are, but I am good at physical touch. Physical comfort. And it seemed like the only thing I could offer in that moment to take that bleakness away from her. But I should have thought about how you would feel—”

“I’m glad you were there for her.” Azriel blurts, realising, with every word, how much he means them. “I wasn’t. I failed her that night.”

“I really didn’t know that the two of you had been exploring things. If I did, I wouldn’t have done it. I mean…that fight you started wasn’t over Kaeda at all, was it?”

Az’s eyes shutter. And it goes against every natural instinct of his to strip himself bare and just…be honest. Every steel wall he’s ever built up is screeching in its effort to stand strong and not be caved in. And those walls were necessary in a life of darkness and hate…but that life is long gone.

What good do those walls do him in an environment where he has love, has people who genuinely care for him? As much as he wants to run and hide from his feelings as he always has…he thinks that the key to happiness may be on the other side of those walls. That a new bravery lays in letting some light filter through the cracks and warm a guarded heart.

His voice is quiet, laced with a self-preserving fear, as he admits, “No. It was not.”

Before Cassian can offer an encouraging response, the front door is swinging open, and Rhysand is kicking snow from his boots and trudging in. Azriel tenses like a threatened animal — but there is no threat here. Only safety, only love. He forces his shoulders to relax.

The violet-eyed male takes in the sight before him. Goes still as he looks between his two friends. “Please tell me this is a positive conversation.”

Cassian inclines his head. “Work in progress. Why don’t you make some tea?”

“Fuck you, make your own tea—”

“Make me some tea—”

“Kiss my ass, dickhole—”

“I’m in love with Y/N.” Azriel blurts.

It promptly shuts the other two males up.

They turn away from their bickering to look at the shadowsinger. He looks…shocked, by his own confession.

“I’m in love with her,” he breathes.

Cass and Rhys share a glance, and then Rhys is slowly approaching the table, carefully taking a seat like he doesn’t want to startle Azriel out of the moment.

“We know, Az.” Rhys tells him gently. “I mean…I think we always suspected…”

“I started that fight in Fenlaros because I was jealous of that damn male having his hands all over her. Saying the things he was saying. It was nothing to do with Kaeda.”

“You should really tell her — Y/N, I mean. Tell her how you feel.”

Azriel’s eyes trace a mark in the table as he admits, “Kind of already have. When she came to speak to me earlier today.”

Another glance is shared between Cassian and Rhys. And both are equally surprised — figure they would have heard something about it. Unless…unless it hadn’t gone down well.

And now that Rhys thinks about it, Y/N had been tense whilst he’d flown her back to Velaris. Taut in his arms and barely uttering a few words. Perhaps this was why.

“Did she…not take it well?” Rhys hedges. He wants to be delicate, not go blasting in at full-force. So rarely do they get to see such a vulnerable side to Az.

Azriel shakes his head once. “It’s not that, it’s…” He clears his throat. “It’s more complicated than that.”

“How?” Cass pushes, and Rhys shoots him a warning glance.

But Azriel doesn’t balk from it, doesn’t slink back in his seat. Instead, he lifts his head, and he levels his friends with a desperate look.

“There’s more that I haven’t told you.” He says.

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A short while later, Az thinks that maybe talking through his feelings is a good thing. Just saying the words has a little bit of weight easing from his chest, his shoulders.

But Cass and Rhys aren’t saying anything at all. Cass and Rhys are staring at him like he has two damn heads.

And then Cassian sits up, barking, “Tathaln Baralas wants what?”

“Exactly what I told you.” Azriel shakes his head. “He wants me to move to Fenlaros and work alongside him. Has some sort of backing from the High Lord, though I’m not sure how much. In a nutshell, Kaeda’s interest in me has always been driven by her father.”

“I knew that little wasp was up to something. You know she tried to kiss me tonight?”

Az shrugs. Really could not give a fuck. “I figured something had happened from the look on your face.”

“I never liked her. Nor her father—”

“Her father,” Rhys cuts in, “walks a very fine line in presuming to exceed in his role as a Camp Lord. His ego and title are going to his head a little, it would seem, if he believes he has the authority to scheme such ideas.”

“It’s a terrible idea.” Cass says. Neither of the other two noticed him get up, but he’s returning to his seat, speaking around a mouthful of food. “All Illyrians in one big camp? They’ll kill each other.”

Rhys is inclined to agree. But he turns a neutral — maybe gentle — expression on Az and asks him, “Do you want to go to Fenlaros?”

It would kill him if Az said yes. Would kill Cass, too. These recent days of being torn apart by tension has been bad enough. Being in different camps and not seeing each other is an almost unbearable thought.

But they would find a way to live with it, if Az decided he wanted to go. They’d find a way to be okay with it.

Such thick silence fills the room that the thudding of all three of their hearts is audible.

But then Azriel replies quietly, “No.”

Neither Rhys nor Cassian bother to hide their relief.

“I told Kaeda I would think about it.” Azriel goes on. “And I told Y/N that I’d promised Kaeda that. But I don’t think I’ve ever really intended to think about it — or needed to. I think…I think I was just using it to bide my time. To create space for myself and…avoid everything else.”

“By everything else,” Cassian chomps into a loaf of bread, “do you mean facing your feelings for Y/N?”

Azriel can’t deny it. He nods. “It’s not an easy thing to face…to be vulnerable. Hiding behind this Fenlaros situation has just been easier. Cowardly, yes, but…easier.”

“You can’t keep pushing her away, though, Az.” Rhys says. “You can’t let her think that you might be leaving if you have no intention of doing so.”

The shadowsinger’s eyes flutter shut, thick, dark lashes grazing his cheekbones. “Do you think I’ve fucked it beyond repair?”

“No.” Cassian offers. “But you will, if you don’t start handling this the right way. Tell Kaeda and Tathaln to fuck off. Tell Y/N you’re in love with her and want to see her naked—”

“Watch it.” Azriel warns quietly, but Cass continues, unperturbed.

“Just start letting more people in. And I’ll stop letting so many people in, because it gets me into trouble. I think…I think we all need to grow up a little. Do better.”

Rhysand’s brow pinches. “What do you mean, we all do? I’ve done nothing other than put my own pleasure aside to advise you idiots. What could I possibly need to do better?”

Cassian shrugs. “That haircut, for one. It’s annoying.”

“And when was the last time your hair saw a comb, Cassian?”

“When was the last time you were generous and made tea for your good, long-suffering friend?”

“So this is about the tea.”

“Of course it’s about the tea, jackass. Zakai clearly isn’t with you for your observational skills…”

Azriel sits back, allowing their bickering to become background noise. There’s a warmth to the sight, the sound, that makes him realise he never again wants a repeat of this situation — of being apart from his friends for days, tension thick between them.

He loves Rhys and Cassian. Loves them dearly.

Another reason why he could never, ever turn his back on this place.

And he finds himself actually being…grateful…that Cass was there for Y/N that night. That she didn’t have to suffer her self-loathing alone.

There’s still a lot to get through, of course. Daunting emotions and truths to face head-on. But as he watches the two loveable idiots in front of him take verbal swipes at each other, it’s the first time in a while that he wonders if things might actually be okay.

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The news is announced the next day, when Lord Devlon gathers a rather colourful bunch of his soldiers in the mead hall and stands at the front, silencing them all with a single shout. Rhys, Cassian and Azriel stand against the far back wall, their arms folded over their chests.

Gods, they hope it’s not another training exercise. Not so soon. Az has things he wants to resolve before he saunters off and possibly gets himself killed.

But Devlon reads the roll of parchment in his hands, a frown contorting his features. He looks up, his eyes very deliberately finding Rhysand as he announces to the room, “A message from the High Lord.”

And every other gaze is then swivelling to turn on Rhys, too. There’s something accusatory about it, like they’re assuming he’s privy to whatever it is their asses have been dragged out of bed to hear.

He isn’t. He wants to be in bed, too.

“Looks like you pricks better get your dancing shoes ready.” Devlon raises his eyebrows. “The High Lord is calling for a ball. Legions from all camps invited.”

This — this is exciting news for the brutish males who could fill the mead hall with their egos alone. Not because they have a particular affinity for dancing, but because amongst themselves, they’re already murmuring about which particular camps they dislike for some reason or other, and what they plan to do about it. So many bloodthirsty streaks are painted in those males’ eyes, stamping out the tiredness that lay there only moments before.

Nothing pricks an Illyrian male’s ears up quite like the prospect of a fight.

“The legions from each camp have been carefully selected, and you lucky fuckers will be representing Windhaven.” The Camp Lord continues, disdain dripping from his voice. He wants his men out there training in the cold, not prancing around a dance floor. “Plus-ones are allowed, also, so it might be time to splash out on a pretty gown for whoever is warming your bed these days. The ball is to be held on Starfall, at a neutral venue of the High Lord’s choosing, and I expect you all to make Windhaven — and me — look good. Any questions?”

“Do we actually have to dance?” One male asks, while another one pipes up with, “Will those pricks from Camp Steelshore be there?”

Rhys shuts out the litany of battling voices as he turns a concerned look on Az and Cass. Their expressions mirror his own. Something about this feels…off.

So while he looks like he’s merely lounging against the wall, hands in his pockets, he sends his inner claws spearing straight for Devlon’s mind. He doesn’t give away what he’s doing, not even slightly, as he roots around in the Camp Lord’s thoughts and grabs for his glimpse of the letter. Rhys scans it, drops the thought, and he’s out of Devlon’s mind and straightening himself up before the male can so much as flinch.

“Let’s go.” He tells his friends, and not Devlon nor the males around them seem to care as Azriel and Cassian follow him, the formidable trio traipsing out into the thawing snow, regardless of whether the meeting is over or not.

They’re halfway back to the house, safely out of earshot, when Cassian finally barks, “A ball? What the fuck?”

“At the request of Tathaln Baralas.” Rhys reveals. “That’s what the letter said. He took the idea to my father, and the asshole is humouring him. This has all got to be part of Tathaln’s plan.”

Cassian scowls and spits his disdain at the ground. “Someone needs to drive a poison arrow through that prick’s heart already. I don’t like this one bit.”

“It’s my father’s intentions I’m worried about.” Rhys shakes his head. “Tathaln only has the power that my father gives him. One word from him and this idea could be snuffed out and never mentioned again. And I expected that to be the case. Arrogant as fuck he may be, but my father isn’t stupid. He’ll know what a terrible idea this is, and I would have predicted that he’d laugh in Tathaln’s face for mentioning it. I didn’t think he’d actually entertain it…which means—”

“There’s something in it for him.” Azriel finishes.

Rhysand nods. “Every single move and choice my father makes is, ultimately, for his own gain. He would never agree to anything if he weren’t getting something out of it himself. Whatever Tathaln has proposed to him…my father will be using it for his own gain.”

Cassian opens the door to the cottage and strides in, forgetting — as always — to kick the snow from his boots. “What, though?” He asks. “What could Tathaln have that your father could want?”

Rhys shrugs and waves a hand, magic promptly mopping up the wet, melting trail left in Cassian’s wake. “That, I don’t know.”

“So what do we do?” Az watches him closely, trying to read the thoughts on the male’s face. His shadows reach out to him, too. “Are you going to talk to your father? Make him see how ridiculous this idea is?”

“No,” Rhys shakes his head. “There would be no point. I could lay a whole host of truths out to my father, and he’d go against them on ego alone. He must want something badly enough for him to be throwing money into it. This ball won’t be cheap.”

“And it won’t be a ball, either.” Cassian cocks an eyebrow. Roots through the kitchen cupboards for food. “Blood will be spilled. And you can’t dance on blood. I’ve tried. Too slippy.”

Rhys chooses to ignore that little scrap of information. Mostly because he doesn’t doubt it for a second. “I don’t want us to pre-empt anything.” He says. “If I go straight to my father with concerns about any of this, it could blow up in our faces, instead. For the time being, I think we should just…go along with it. Watch it play out, and see what happens. My father is unpredictable. Even I can’t tell you what goes on in his head.”

“I can speak with Kaeda.” Az clears his throat. “See if she’ll tell me anything.”

“You have fun with that.” Cassian mumbles, biting into something. “I’d sooner chop my balls off and nail them to the front door.”

“Such a way with words. It’s no wonder, really, that females fall at your feet.”

Cass shoots him a wicked grin. And this…this is nice. What they’ve both missed. This is normal.

“I’ll keep an eye and ear out for anything.” Rhys drags them back to the subject at hand. “But my father’s good at not letting anyone know things until he wants them to know them. And he’s clearly serious about this.”

Cassian swallows. Takes another bite. “And until then? Until we know what he’s even serious about?”

Violet eyes sparkle with mischief, and one side of Rhysand’s lips tips up. “Until then, boys,” he says, “you’d better practice your dancing.”

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Azriel really hopes she’s not there, but sure enough, when he enters his room at the dorms, Kaeda is sitting up in his bed.

It gives him a little bit of satisfaction to see her look…less than perfect, for once. Her hair is knotted, and even the vibrancy of the red shade seems a little dulled. Her skin is sallow, her eyes bleary. He wonders if she’s as miserable as she currently looks.

She beholds him with a strangely coy look, like she’s waiting for him to rip into her. But if she really knew the shadowsinger, she’d know that that is not his style. He does not shout. He rarely fights physically. His danger lies in his quiet voice and icy stare.

Kaeda’s tired eyes fall to the blanket pooled around her waist, and she murmurs, “You’re angry with me.” Her throat bobs with a swallow. “I understand. But I appreciate you putting me to sleep in here when I was in a vulnerable state.”

“I would have done it for anyone.” Az presses his back against the wall, folding his arms. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

The female merely bows her head. Doesn’t bother to argue.

“I have a question.” Azriel then says. “I’d like an answer.”

“I know that Cassian has probably told you about last night, and all I can say is I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have kissed him. I was drunk and upset and I—”

“I don’t care about that.” He really doesn’t, and it shows on his face. “I want to know what your father is playing at by organising an Illyrian ball. I don’t believe for a second that the gesture is an innocent one.”

She glances down again, but Azriel doesn’t buy the coy act for one moment.

“Kaeda.” His voice is laced with warning. “Tell me.”

“It’s just…a ball. A ball to have all camps in one place, so he can get a good look at what each one has to offer. It’s nothing sinister.”

“So, a chance for him to scout more supporters for his cause.”

“He’s trying to make a change, Azriel. A good one—”

“He’s interfering with lives. Tearing families apart.”

“Good results require difficult choices.” Her voice hardens.

The shadowsinger bites out a cold, brusque laugh, turning away from her. “Mother above, he has you trained well.”

There’s movement behind him. Kaeda is kicking the sheets away and pushing to her feet. And she’s…seething.

“You would laugh in the face of somebody trying to make a positive change?” She snaps. “What reason have you to be so arrogant? At least my father is trying to make a difference. All you’re doing is clinging to a miserable life in a miserable place where you don’t even have a family or home of your own—”

“Except that I do.” Azriel rounds on her so quickly that his wing knocks a fragrance bottle off a shelf. “I may not have your riches, and that’s fine, because I have a group of people — a family I made — who love me enough to care whether or not I come home at night. Who want nothing less for me than happiness and contentedness, and not just to use me as a pawn in some convoluted plan that will do more harm than good. I have reason to be in Windhaven, whether it’s miserable or not. I have love here. So much of it. And there’s nothing — not a damn thing — that would make me turn my back on it.”

Something in his impassioned speech clearly hits a nerve with Kaeda. She goes still.

And she looks…small, despite being fairly tall. She looks…insignificant.

Her eyes fill with tears. One spills over and rolls down her cheek as she whispers, “Please, Azriel.”

Azriel says nothing. Stares at her.

“Please.” She takes a step closer. “I’m not above begging. I…” Her voice cracks. “I need this. I need you to say yes—”

“Your father,” he interrupts quietly, “is playing a very dangerous game. And he’s using you to do it.”

“You don’t understand. I…if I can’t give him what he wants, I’m finished. I’ll have no home to go to, nobody on my side.”

“You already have nobody on your side. You’re his daughter and he’s dangling your livelihood over your head and ready to snatch it away if he doesn’t get what he wants. You’re already finished.”

“Please.” She says again. Tears are streaming, now, and she tries fruitlessly to wipe them away. “Please, just…if this is about Y/N—”

“Do not,” he grits out, “bring her into this.”

“She’s already in this. I know that you want her and not me…that you always have…and that’s fine. Bring her to Fenlaros with you, if you must. I’m sure my father could be persuaded on that. But just…please—”

“You’re not listening, Kaeda. This isn’t just about my family. It’s about all the other families that would be separated, ripped apart by your father’s scheming. He’s power hungry. This is just the beginning of a whole host of self-serving plans that will bring him glory — do not doubt that for a second. People like him are never satisfied, and he needs to be stopped. Not encouraged.”

“You’re wrong.” Her voice is so weak, Az isn’t convinced she believes her own words. “He just wants a better future for Illyria—”

“No.” Az levels her with a pointed look. “He wants a better future for himself. I will not play a part in that, and neither will my loved ones.”

“Azriel, please—”

“I will attend your father’s ball, just as Lord Devlon has ordered me to do.” He breezes to the door, not caring that this is his room he’s leaving her behind in. He stops, palm poised on the handle. “But as for delivering a male straight into your father’s den? You better start trying that seduction on somebody else. Because there is nothing that would make me follow you into that camp.”

He leaves without a glance back. And while it sits uncomfortably inside him that he made a female cry…he can’t help feeling like he’s finally doing the right thing.

About time, too.

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This — this is the last thing you ever would have expected of coming to Velaris.

The tonic you’d needed was an extended amount of girl time with Roza. And yet here you are…in the High Lord’s arms.

“This is useless.” You murmur, aware of every single place your body brushes against his. One of his hands is a firm weight on the small of your back, the other clasping yours. “I’m not a natural dancer. Fuck, I’ve never even been to a dance.”

Fin’s mouth tips up at the corners. “There’s that filthy mouth.” His hand lets go of yours, opting to move up to the cut of your jaw, where he allows his thumb to rest on your lower lip. “You,” the pad of it swipes slowly over your mouth, “are going to be exquisite.”

You square your shoulders. Cock a challenging eyebrow. “Is that genuine encouragement, High Lord? Or an order?”

A deep chuckle. Slowly — reluctantly —he lets his hand drop. “Both.”

Flirting with him like this, playing the part of the High Lord’s pet, is a necessary evil. You’re just so surprisingly good at it that you can’t discern whether it’s an affront to him, or to Roza. Or both.

But you can’t deny that you’ve been flattered by his undivided attention this past week. And perhaps he’s been flattered by yours, too.

Mother bless Roza for her undying support. The best you can do for her, right now, is to keep her in the loop. She merely tells you to be careful.

But a week — a week of cosying up to Fin, of breaking through his exterior and appealing yourself to him. You humour him with these dance lessons, with the preposterously expensive shopping trips and dinners, the late night fireside conversations. Anything, everything, to get him to tell you what truth lies behind the excited glint in his eyes whenever he speaks of the ball. To tell you what it is he’s planning.

Perhaps you’re not appealing enough. You are no more aware than anyone else. And that’s really fucking frustrating.

At least your hard work has kept you from thinking about Azriel every five minutes.

Your breath still heaving from your dance efforts, you make your way over to the table of refreshments by the huge, arcing windows that overlook the city. The High Lord’s palace, you have to admit, is a place you might miss once you’re back in Windhaven. You’ve never been one for luxury, never had more than a few things to your name — but the views are what makes you feel like the richest person in all of Prythian. These are not the cold, barren views of your camp, but a place of such vibrancy, it sometimes makes you want to cry. It’s like the setting of a storybook, laid out right before you.

From behind, slow, graceful footsteps sweep across the wooden floor. Fin comes to a stop so closely behind you that his body heat encases you.

Fingertips make contact with your skin, the back of your neck. The sleeveless tunic you wore for your practice now feels like nothing more than a paper towel.

“You have such beautiful skin.” Fin says roughly, and you tense. So far, this week, he’s kept a respectful distance away. Hasn’t put you in any awkward positions.

You pivot under his touch, pressing your back up against the table enough that his hand drops. It’s not entirely for show as you smile apologetically and tell him, “Sorry — scars.”

Such genuine, slicing rage fills his face. The intensity of it almost knocks you breathless.

“I will kill him.” He says the words like a lover’s promise. “With my bare hands, I will kill him for taking your wings.”

He had the power to stop the practice before you were even born. He is very old — over nine-hundred-years — and very powerful. What he says, goes.

And yet…he means it. You can see it. And perhaps you have seen so much unkindness, such brutality, that little scraps of ferocity, of passion, in your defence, make you a blinded fool.

But a part of him — however small — actually cares about you. Enough to mark your abuser for death.

But your father’s blood will soak your hands, and yours only.

You smile up at him, wickedly, cunningly, prettily. “No, you won’t.” You reply. “Because I will do it first.”

And the fury in his stare simmers immediately to a different sort of heat. Your words are a flirtation to him — a cut of raw meat dangled above a hungry, waiting animal. They make him feel something.

“Such a murderous little thing.” His soft laugh caresses your skin. He sounds pleased — impressed. “I like that. I like it a lot.”

“I would hope so. I am to be your special guest at the ball, after all.” A small voice in your head wants to coax him; tell me what you’re planning, tell me what to expect.

But, as always, he steers the conversation away, a vague, mysterious smile on his face. “Do you like it here in Velaris, my murderess?”

“I do, very much so.”

“I can’t help pondering how much you would thrive here. You were made for so much more than Windhaven. Illyria, even.”

A soft, coy smile — one that comes from deep within that part of you that wants the praise, the compliments — that needs them. “Many would disagree with you.”

“Show them to me, and I will twist their minds until they see in you what I do.”

“And what is it you see in me?” A disingenuous little liar. A good actress. A traitor.

Fin leans down, and for one startling, heart-stopping, stomach-lurching moment, you think his mouth might meet yours.

But his lips brush over your cheek in a tender, barely-there caress. He presses a kiss to the skin before retracting. Straightening himself out. The way he slides his hands into his pockets with casual arrogance reminds you so much of Rhys that you miss your friend instantaneously.

“I see beauty that is unappreciated, and intelligence that is underestimated.” Fin says. “And I see a female that I wouldn’t mind having at my side.” His eyes trace you from head to toe. “I wouldn’t mind it at all.”

No response sits on your tongue. You think you might be too surprised by the genuine praise. The fact that the High Lord actually feels some level of affection towards you.

Maybe you’re not so bad at these games.

He turns without waiting for your response, and only when he’s at the door does he make eye contact with you over his shoulder.

“Keep practicing the dancing, my murderess.” He says. “We’ll make a fine pair at that ball.”

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

If Roza weren’t so worried, she might laugh at the three expressions of outrage that meet her when she strolls into the cottage.

Rhysand jumps up immediately and demands, “Did you fly here? You’re supposed to be resting.”

Roza merely rolls her eyes and shuts the door behind her. “Don’t get your undergarments in a bunch, Rhysand. I’m pregnant — not on my death bed. The babe is fine.”

Her son does not look convinced. Neither do Azriel or Cassian. As if they’re, like, experts on pregnancy, or something.

“What are you doing here, mother?” Rhys stalks straight to the fire and stokes it. Then straight over to the kitchen to make a hot drink. “Is everything alright?”

“Yes. Mostly.” Roza pauses. “I hope.”

Azriel sits up at that. “Is Y/N alright?”

“She’s fine.” If playing games with the High Lord of the Night Court can be considered fine. Roza eases herself into a seat, and Cassian is promptly propping cushions behind her back. “I want to talk to you about the ball.”

Cass’s lips turn up into a half-smile. “We’ll be on our best behaviour, Roz. Promise.”

“You’d better be. Because I want all three of you looking out for Y/N at that ball, do you hear me?”

The command is a firm one, and yet the three males don’t straighten up at her matriarchal tone like they usually do. Instead, they share a puzzled glance, frowns pinching their features.

“It’s a ball for Illyrian soldiers and their guests of choice.” Rhys explains, carrying a steaming mug over to her. “None of us are bringing her along. Not to that.”

“You may not be.” Roza slides a protective hand over her bump. “But your father is.”

All three males go so preternaturally still, it’s almost frightening.

Rhys bites out, quietly, “What?”

“Your father is taking Y/N to the ball as his special guest. He’s bought her a gown, taught her to dance — he’s serious about this.”

“He can’t.” The shadowsinger’s face is like rolling thunder. “He cannot take her there. All those males—”

“That’s precisely why I’m not attending. He needs someone in my place, and he’s taking Y/N.”

“He can choose someone else.” Azriel’s clipped tone, his panic, is not at all personal to Roza. Usually, he would never speak to her in such a way, but—

But this is Y/N they’re talking about. Y/N in the High Lord’s hands, at a ball with so many Illyrian males, too many Illyrian males.

“Watch your tone, Azriel.” Rhys warns, but Roza is holding up a hand. Because she gets it — the panic.

“I’ve tried telling him to take somebody, anybody, else.” She says. “He’s insistent — absolutely adamant that he wants Y/N.”

“But why?” Cassian frowns.

“I don’t know. I don’t know if his kindness to her is genuine or not.” She shakes her head, absentmindedly stroking her bump. “All I know is that he’s taking Y/N to that ball, and I’m not going to be there. You know, Rhysand, that there is no changing your father’s mind once it’s set. I need the three of you to look out for her.”

Because Y/N is just as much a daughter to Roza as the little girl growing in her belly. They know that.

Rhys inclines his head, reaching out to place a hand over Roza’s. “We will, mother.” He promises. “Whatever game he’s playing…we’ll look after Y/N.”

Roza’s eyes dart to Azriel, to Cassian. “Do you promise?”

“We promise.” Cassian, unfazed as always, grins. “You just focus on the little one, Roz.”

Azriel’s face is grave, but he nods once. “We won’t let her out of our sight.”

Y/N is in good hands with them, Roza knows. She may even be in good hands with Fin, depending on what his true intentions are. Perhaps being at the High Lord’s side is the safest place she can be. It’s an unknown.

But one thing Azriel does know, as he wishes and wishes for this damn ball to just be over already, is that he’s wracked with guilt.

He can’t help feeling like it’s his fault — that his actions, his behaviour, chased Y/N right into a viper’s den.

That he’ll stop at nothing to get her out of it.

pom tags: @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @sirenpearldust @queercodedcharacter @azriels-shadowsinger @ruler-of-hades @demi03 @magicaldragonlady @abrielletargaryen @ralsieq @v3lv3tf0x @achase2002 @feyretopia @hayrunnwr @don’t-feed-the-hipsters @brekkershadowsinger @piceous21 @bloodicka @acourtofinkandpapyrus @riri-is-agirlie @siriusement @4valyries @socmono @azriels-mate123 @acourtofbatboydreams @katherinearcheron @nesemi @lupinswolfsbanes @dreaming-unafraid @dxnniiix @cyrygher @liddyr03 @lmllsl @nightless @teenageeggscissorslawyer @brighterthanlonelythoughts @blitz-fall @maybefoxysouls @mschanand1erbong @juiceboxreads @bangtanbecks @florencemtrash @hyemishii @obixix @thenovarose @meshellexplosionmurder @angzlxna @lissy31xoxo-blog @supernatural99 @positivewitch @art3-m1ss @milfhunter-pdx @bbuckysbeardd @coralseacourt @towhateverend87 @sspookz @bird-on-the-wire33 @morrie-rose @megwan @catscanteleport @sevikas-whore @thickthighs-sadeyes @hihelloitsbooktimeppl

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ameifyy · 4 months ago

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UZI DOORMAN X FEM READER HCS

— tw : none! :3

She wears a lot of rings. She has one specific finger that she puts rings on that remind her of you, like for example, if your favorite color was yellow, she'd have a yellow ring on.

Pet names for you are Princess, Babe, Baby, and Gorgeous.

She likes kissing your shoulders a lot, if you're sensitive to it she does it more often just because she loves seeing your reactions

VERY flirty. She's honestly kinda good at it too. Sending little winks and blowing kisses at you, making goofy jokes

Awkward kisser at first, but she's really good at it once she actually learns

If you're taller than her (which you most likely are), she has to get on her tippy toes to give you kisses and stuff. Sometimes she's bored by the concept of getting on her tip toes and will just jump into your arms though

She's an over-thinker, not a lot but she is. Like to where she needs reassurance but not constantly. She just wants to make sure you still love her, and aren't annoyed by her attitude and personality.

She's kinda clingy, attached to you every chance she gets. Her love language is quality time, so obviously she enjoys spending as much time with you as possible.

She spends a lot of time at your place, especially when you're busy with stuff. It's basically a second home at this point. If you're just laying in bed on your phone or whatever, she's most definitely laying on your chest watching you.

She likes dressing you up in her style, even if you two are the exact opposite. She also likes matching with you! You two have matching hair clips and bracelets.

NSFW WARNING BELOW CUT

(I need 2 get freaky w her so bad.)

She's a switch, but mostly the dominant one. When she is the submissive one, she takes it GOOD.

She's really loud, do not do anything with her unless you're completely alone. Covering her mouth won't do much.

She likes breasts a lot, I don't really know why I have this headcanon, I just feel it in my bones. Do not wear a low cut shirt around her unless you're looking for the pounding of your life.

When she's on the receiving end, she holds your hand during it. Not tightly, just enough to where you know she isn't letting go.

She curses a lot during it, especially if she's the dominant one. Pounding into your ass with a strap-on, letting out a string of curses as she gets closer to finishing.

Most definitely used the solver on you at least once. Won't elaborate, let your mind run wild

If you're desperate for it, she will occasionally make you beg for it. It turns her on, and overall just makes her giggle.

She's really good with her fingers, and she can multitask. Watching one of her pirated animes while fingering you as you sit in her lap.

She LOVES it when you ride her strap-on, she thinks it's the hottest thing ever. Head thrown back, body shaking from the pleasure.

She likes challenging you, not breaking your limits but seeing how much you can take in small amounts. No matter what, she doesn't want to hurt you. So she won't do it much.

Mainly whimpers, loud moans, and occasionally loud groans will come out of her.

She likes getting eaten out, the grip on your head WILL be tight. Not enough to hurt.

She's a quick learner, she catches on to what turns you on and off really quickly.

She can last about 2-4 rounds, depending on how horny she was.

She's somewhat flat chested, only an A cup. She's slightly into nipple play

When everything is finally taken care of, she'll get you to help clean up and then snuggle up against you, listening to your heart/core beating.

Thank you for reading my literal MESS of lesbianism. I need her so bad

#x reader #x reader fanfiction #uzi doorman #murder drones uzi #reader x uzi doorman #md uzi #uzi doorman x reader #uzi x reader #uzi #murder drones #murder drones x reader #md x reader #fanfiction #fanfic

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alotofpockets · 11 months ago

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We've got you | Arsenal WFC

Pairing: Arsenal x Teen!Reader

Request: Arsenal teen reader fic where they have an eating disorder and the team helps them through it.

Warnings: Eating disorders, passing out, talk of negative body image.

A/n: Thank you @catasha for proof-reading and your feedback & thank you @lessi-lover and @greynatomy as well for your help 💗

Masterlist | Woso masterlist | Words: 2k

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As the youngest player on the team a lot of your teammates kept a close eye on you. They made sure you did your homework, helped you pack your bag, and in general were there for you for whatever you needed. There was one thing they hadn’t noticed though, and it was that you had started eating less and less. You were actively trying to hide it from them, so you didn't blame them for not noticing.

You had been diagnosed with an eating disorder when you were fourteen years old, and though you had been doing better the past year, your old habits started to reappear. Of course, something like that doesn’t really go away, but the voices in your head telling you that you shouldn’t eat have been quiet.

None of your teammates knew about your diagnosis, as you hadn;t struggled with it during your time with Arsenal. Well, not until now. In your plan to hide it from your teammates, you hadn’t counted on someone knowing the symptoms of an eating disorder, but one of them did. Alessia Russo, one of the more recent signings was keeping an eye on your food intake, unbeknownst to you. She had noticed you barely touching your breakfast. At first she didn’t think anything of it, but when she saw you only eating a few bites of your lunch, until you excused yourself, her mind started to wonder. She recognized patterns she had been stuck on in her highschool years, and hoped that she was wrong, but she couldn’t just let the thoughts go.

After training that afternoon, Alessia walked with you back to your bags, having placed hers conveniently next to yours at the start. The two of you are talking, when she grabs a protein bar from her bag. “Man, I’m full. Can I interest you in the other half? I would hate for it to go to waste.” You hesitated, but took the bar from her, not fully confident in denying food one on one. Alessia continued talking, but you didn’t hear a word she was saying as you were trying to convince the voices in your head you should eat the bar she offered. You don’t deserve to eat. You’ve gained weight, eating the bar will make it go up more. You tried to fight it. I already took the bar, I have to at least take a bite to show my appreciation. After fighting with the voices in your head for what felt like half an hour, you managed to move the bar up to your mouth with a shaky hand. Luckily Alessia was busy untying her boots, and didn’t see your hands shaking. One small bite is all you were able to eat before the voices in your head started to get loud again. You smiled to Alessia, “Thank you for this.” and head back to the locker rooms. Once you were out of sight from the rest of the team, you threw the bar in a nearby trash can.

You were currently training in Portugal, so you didn’t have much time where you weren’t surrounded by your teammates. Each meal time was taken together, so you diverted to making it seem like you were eating by tactically moving around the food on your plate, putting a bite on your fork and moving it around while you were conversing with the people surrounding you. Trying to keep their focus on your words, rather than the lack of food actually entering your mouth.

Alessia stuck around until most of the room had cleared out, leaving just the two of you in the room. She moved over to your table, “Hey y/n, how are you doing?” You look up from your plate, “Oh hi Lessi, I’m doing alright. How are you?” She smiled at you softly, “I’m doing alright as well. I wanted to check in with you, to see if everything was okay, since I noticed you hadn’t really touched your food.” Your cheeks turned red, had she noticed? You quickly shake off the thought and shrug your shoulders, “Oh, yes, I’m okay. Just not very hungry, that’s all.” Alessia didn’t want to push you, knowing that that could make it worse, so she settled on talking about football instead, to bond with you, and not let you be on your own.

The next day you were running around during practice, you loved drills where you got to show your speed. The team was split into two lines, as you would be competing against each other. One person from each team would go at the same time, sprinting to the finish line, the one that reached it first would earn the cone for their team. The team that got to ten cones first would win the exercise.

Your team was currently at nine cones, while the other team was at eight. It was you running against Lotte, and if you were the fastest, you would get the victory for your team. “You’re going down, grandma.” The team knew you as a joker, so Lotte was used to your antics. “Yeah yeah, you just focus on not tripping over your own feet, kiddo.” You roll your eyes at her, “That was one time!”

The two of you get ready on the line and wait for the countdown and the whistle to blow. You were running neck and neck, until about three quarters of the way, it was then that you got a step ahead of Lotte, but your lead didn’t last long, as suddenly you found yourself getting weak and dizzy. You divert from the straight line that you were running, and slow down your run. Lotte immediately noticed that something was wrong, and stopped her run to help you. “Hey kid, what’s wrong?’ She grabs your shoulders to keep you in place. “Dizzy.” Is all you get out before you collapse in her arms.

You passed out for a moment, but luckily the medics were quick by your side. “What happened?” You ask when you see all your teammates standing around you with worried looks on their faces. “You passed out, kid. Do you know what happened?” Leah had your head laying in her lap. “Don’t know.” You say groggily, still not feeling well. “Let’s get you to one of the physio rooms to get you checked out.” One of the medics reached down their hands to help you up.

Everyone was in the hallway, waiting to hear what was going on, a few of them pacing the hallway, and others sitting along the wall. “She was joking around just moments before, how could this happen out of nowhere?” Leah voiced the thought that most of the girls shared. “I might have an idea.” Alessia said softly.

The medics walk out of the physio room once they are done examining you, “She seems alright now. We don’t know what happened yet, so we will have to keep a close eye on her. We advised her to stay in the room for at least another hour, just until she feels a bit stronger again. You can see her though.”

After what Alessia had just shared with the group, just Alessia, Leah, and Kim go into the room first. “Hey kiddo, how are you doing?” Leah sits down on the bed with you, and wraps her arm around you. “I still feel a bit weak, but otherwise okay. You all look very serious though, what’s going on?” Leah looks up to Kim with tears welling in her eyes, not being able to do the talking without breaking. You were like a little sister to her, and it hurt seeing you like this. “It came under our attention that you haven’t really been eating, and we wanted to check in with you. You really scared us out there kid, you need to take care of your body. Can you please tell us how long this has been going on?” They knew now, so hiding was no longer an option. “I was diagnosed with an eating disorder when I was fourteen.” You could feel Leah tense beside you, as she came to the realisation just how serious this was. “I never mentioned it because it’s not been a problem since I’ve joined the team. It started playing up again a few weeks ago, I can handle it.” You were downplaying your wording, trying not to scare your teammates. Leah shook her head, “You’re not handling it though, you literally passed out!” You were shocked with the emotion behind her voice. “Leah, I’m fine.” Leah felt herself getting angry, “No, y/n, you’re not.” She said before she left the room, not wanting to get angry with you while she knew you were struggling.

It stays quiet for a moment, before Alessia speaks up. “I struggled with my weight and my body a lot growing up. I wanted to be skinny, but it ended up making me too weak to play. I learned that for football being strong was more important than my body fitting this image in my mind that society had created.” Kim continued where Alessia left off, “It’s important to give your body the right nutritions, it is for all of us, but especially for a growing body like yours. Skipping meals can harm your body, more than it will do good. We understand that this is a lot, but we really do not want anything like today to happen to you again.” Tears started to form in your eyes. Kim stands up and goes in to hug you, “It’s okay, sweetheart. We’ve got you.”

Once you calmed down a bit, Kim continued the conversation. They wanted to do everything in their power to help you, because they understood how mentally challenging an eating disorder could be. “We’re going to set up a meeting with the dietitian and nutrition team tomorrow, and get you on a plan that will help you eat in a healthy way, that is based on your body specifically. Alessia is going with you, because her experience will help make sure your best interest is at heart. We are going to be there with you every step of the way. You’re a part of a team, and that means we don’t let anyone go through something alone, okay?” You nodded, “Okay.”

In the hallway Leah is crying into Lia’s arms, after she asked the rest of the team to give you some space today. “She’s acting like nothing is wrong, Wally.” The older girl rubs her hands over her best friend’s back in soothing motions. “I understand, but she needs you Lee. I know you’re angry with her for not telling anyone she’s been struggling, and with yourself for not noticing she was, but let’s focus on the fact that it’s out in the open now, and you can help her.”

Lia’s words were convincing, so much so that Leah headed back into the room, and asked for a moment alone with you. “Hey kiddo, I’m sorry I ran out. I couldn’t handle my emotions in a way that would be fair to you, so I needed a moment.” You smile at her softly, “It’s fine Lee. I understand, it was big news, and I’m sorry I didn’t say anything sooner.” Leah steps forward and hugs you to her chest. “Let’s get you home, okay?” You had been living with Leah since you moved to London, probably the reason that you were closest with her. “Okay.”

The next morning Leah drove you to London Colney for your appointment with the dietitian and nutrition team. Alessia was already waiting when you arrived, she greeted you with a hug. “It’s good to see you, kiddo. Are you ready?” You returned the hug. “As I’ll ever be.”

It was very helpful having the both of them there. Leah for reassuring you, and Alessia to make sure you answered all their questions properly. After an hour of talking with the team, they had set up the basics of the plan for you. In the next couple of days they would get back to you with a more elaborate plan, including meal options and recipes.

You know that your journey with food and your body weren’t going to be easy, but you knew that you weren’t going to be alone. The team had always been like family to you, and yesterday showed you again that they would love you unconditionally, and that they would be there for you, no matter what.

-----

💗 If you enjoyed this fic, please consider liking, commenting, and reblogging! You can also supporting me by leaving a tip 💗

#arsenal wfc x reader #arsenal wfc imagine #arsenal women #arsenal wfc #awfc imagine #awfc x reader #awfc #woso imagines #woso imagine #woso x reader #alessia russo #alessia russo x reader #leah williamson #leah williamson x reader #kim little #kim little x reader

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mm-lurking · 11 months ago

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Why do you care? - Blade

Perhaps you should have thought twice before deciding to take on a powerful enemy at night or perhaps you shouldn’t have, if it means you get a certain someone to care about you.

I wrote this at 11 pm sleep deprived and out of my mind for like many nights straight please forgive me in advance for the grammar etc English is like my 4th language thank you WC: 3440 words Warnings: none just angst, fluff, some description of blood and wounds and me being a simp —

Your blade clashes with the Antimatter Legion creature’s weapon continuously leaving no room for you to think or even plan an escape. With each strike you find yourself feeling weaker and wobbly, as if the enemy were quite literally taking your strength away. The large wound on your back stings and burns and you can feel blood dripping down your ripped shirt, soaking into your pants and splattering on the floor. If it weren’t for the stupid enemy ambushing you and leaving you with a slash on your back, you would have already beaten the crap out of it and gone home for a good night’s sleep.

But no, here you were struggling even to cause reasonable damage that allowed you to deliver the final blow or at least escape. Your movements were getting more fast-paced and aggressive out of frustration which caught the enemy off guard. When will this end?!? With one last ounce of energy you had left in you, you gritted your teeth and struck the creature in the chest, delivering a reasonable blow and causing it to retreat.

“Ha…huff…”

The adrenaline from the fight started to wear out and it didn’t take long before you fell on your hands and knees, clutching your shirt and trying to breathe. You did not have the energy to sit upright, let alone walk back to your residence. Unfortunately for you, the loss of blood caught on quickly. Before you could even formulate a plan your body gave way and you went crashing on the stone pavement head first, with the wound on your back feeling more uncomfortable as the cold winds of the night caressed your back. That’s all you remembered before everything turned black.

- How tardy, Blade tsked as he leaned against the front wall of your residence, waiting impatiently by the door. He had checked the time thrice already in the past ten minutes. As requested by Kafka, you were supposed to meet him at your residence to discuss some business. Why the hell did Kafka choose me for this? he thought to himself, what a waste of my time to associate with someone like her. Yet, despite his annoyance he still waited and waited until his frustration got the better of him.

Glaring at your front door, he walked off. He would let Kafka know later that you weren’t there for whatever reason and ask her to stop sending him to you every time. For some reason no matter how many times he told Kafka he didn’t want to see you, she would still find a way to send him to you. Was it because of some sort of mutual agreement between you and Kafka? Who knows. He didn’t care and nor did he want to. He just wanted to be left alone.

The path he took back home required him to cross the very street you were unconscious on. Of course, he didn’t know that. Blade was walking at his usual pace when he spotted a figure in the distance in the middle of the street, one that looked awfully similar to yours. He tsked again and shook his head. I must be seeing things. Yet as he continued walking, this lingering feeling he had about you continued to pester him and fully manifested when he approached the figure and realised-

“…!”

-it was you. His eyes widened momentarily and his breath hitched as he examined your state, trying to make sense of what had happened to you. There was blood everywhere around you; pools of it that were semi-dried and half-fresh. Your hair was all over the place with most of it soaked in blood from your injuries. And that gash on your back; the way your flesh was practically visible all the way down to the innermost layers of your muscle, the bruises that had started to form around your wound, the scratches and marks on your hands and arms, all of it, every single inch of your injury caused unfamiliar emotions to stir in his heart. It made his blood boil stronger and stronger. In a split second, he knelt by your side, uncaring how your blood soaked into his pants or how he was dirtying his clothes from the pavement dirt.

He gently flipped you over and the sight of your pale face made his heart drop for a moment. There was no sign of life on your face, you looked concerningly peaceful and your forehead had bruised from crashing into the pavement. If it weren't for more fresh blood gushing down his fingers from holding your back, he would have thought he lost you. Blade was no stranger to injuries and wounds. Blood and bruises were a normal day occurrence to him, they were his companion through this cursed immortal life of his. Yet, when it came to you, seeing you in such a state scared him, an emotion he seldom felt. He didn’t care if he was the one to get hurt but if it was you, he couldn’t stand it. He wouldn’t stand it.

Not wanting to waste any more time, he carefully put his arms behind your knees and neck to avoid touching your back before picking you up and walking hastily to the hideout the Stelleron hunters were residing in. Was he a wanted criminal? Yes, but he didn’t care. All that mattered right now was you and your well-being. The door opened with a loud bang and he walked in holding your limp body, his eyes searching everywhere to find a suitable location to tend to your injuries.

“Bladie there you are. How was-”

Kafka stopped talking mid-speech as she noticed Blade and the distressed condition he was in. She stared at the familiar body he was holding and remained speechless before running off to get medical supplies they had lying around for Blade’s mara-struck symptoms. He quickly laid you on your side in his lap and proceeded to build a makeshift bed using blankets and pillows so he could finally tend to your injuries. Kafka returned with supplies in her hands, still confused and flabbergasted at what had occurred and why Blade cared in the first place.

“What happened to her?”

“...”

He said nothing and immediately started to perform first-aid, first gently pushing the torn shirt off your back and brushing your hair aside. Despite his hands being gloved and bandaged, he felt tingles in his fingers as he grazed your skin. Destruction was what he was skilled at yet the way he handled you was gentle and soft, afraid that he would hurt you, as if you were made out of porcelain. He worked skillfully and swiftly on your gash, cleaning and stitching it all up to the best of his abilities before turning to the smaller injuries you had on your arms. By the time he was done with just your back, the moon shone at the highest point of the sky, indicating how long it had taken for him.

But he didn’t care as he looked out the window and then back at you. The moonlight basked your figure in a gentle glow and he found his heart oddly skipping a beat as he stared. Your weak breathing was enough to console him, enough to let him know you were at least alive. Subconsciously he found himself reaching out to caress your cheek, softly tracing over your skin as he watched you for a moment. What was it about you that he couldn’t get enough of? Why was he so persistent in pushing you away while simultaneously wanting your company? Why did he-

“I will call one of her friends over tomorrow to take her to the nearest infirmary.”

Kafka voiced out breaking his line of thoughts. He quickly retracted his fingers and cleared his throat as he worked on your forehead bruise. The woman chuckled and shook her head, smiling slightly. Was this all part of Elio’s plan? Who knows.

“She should be awake in the morning.”

He stated calmly but the burning gaze in his eyes betrayed him. Judging by the severity of your wounds, he wasn’t even sure if you would make it out the night. Kafka said nothing and silence fell once again.

“You should rest Bladie.”

“No need.”

“I can look after her.”

“That won’t be necessary.”

The woman smiled once again and shook her head.

“Alright if you say so. If you need me I will be in the other room. Silverwolf has brought back some interesting information for me to sift through.”

She waved her hand around and left the room leaving Blade alone with you. As he finished putting the last bandage on you, he pulled you closer on his lap, gently placing an arm on your waist to keep you from slipping before closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.

The image of you lying in your own blood flashed through his head again and his eyebrows furrowed. What if he had never come to save you? What if he had left through some other street and never saw you? The idea of him not seeing you alive again tomorrow, the idea of you no longer coming to meet with Kafka, the idea of you no longer looking in his direction…all of it caused a pang in his heart. It was a strange sensation that he didn’t understand and a feeling he couldn’t quite fathom. The grip on your waist tightened as opened his eyes to look at you. You looked so peaceful and content, almost like you hadn’t been gravely injured at all, like you hadn’t nearly bled to death.

As much as he wanted to remain in this position and watch over you, he had to get medicine for your injuries. He reluctantly placed you on the makeshift bed and placed pillows around to prop you up before getting up to go find some.

—

A wave of sharp pain surges through your body prompting your consciousness to start awakening. The pain combined with your tired body creates an uncomfortable feeling in you and with each ripple of pain, you find yourself awakening slowly but surely, like a diver trying to reach the water’s surface to break out.

“Hngh…”

A groan slips out from your mouth as you slowly open your eyes. As you adjust to your surroundings in confusion, the pain of your back wound comes back in full effect causing you to cry out loud. It burns, stings and aches all at once and the threshold is way beyond your bearable pain level. You try to move around but no position eases your suffering and so ultimately you try to sit upright, struggling as tears run down your face. Footsteps quickly approach you and before you can wrap your head around who it is, the figure hurriedly sits down with a bottle in his hand, concern written all over his face as he tries to get you to lie down.

“Bl-blade?”

You say through your tears, choking as you struggle to breathe. You refuse to lay down and uncomfortably shuffle around trying to even get an ounce of relief. Your mind is blurry and confused as you attempt to recall what had happened and what is currently going on.

“You’re hurt.”

He watches as you stare at him through the tears in your eyes and something about that causes those unfamiliar emotions from earlier to stir in his heart again. You shake your head groaning and seething in pain as you attempt to talk.

“Why are you- what-“

“Drink.”

He doesn’t give you an answer and instead supports your neck with one hand as he brings the bottle closer to your face with his other one. You scrunch your face and move away which causes him to frown.

“Foolish. You’re injured. Drink it unless you want to continue withering in pain.”

His voice is sharp and low which causes you to flinch and agree to his request. He brings the bottle up to your lips and you look at him as you take sips. To his surprise, you don’t hesitate to drink down the bitter herbal medicine and finish it in one go. The concoction seems to take immediate effect and you sigh from having temporary relief.

You look back at the man who's holding you up. The tears on your cheeks have dried and you notice he’s still looking at you. There is no emotion on his face yet somehow you can tell he’s concerned and watching out for anything that might happen.

“Blade…why…why do you care?”

There is a small smile on your weary face as you speak. You’re delirious, he notes, seeing how your eyes keep shutting close and how your body seems unable to support itself up. He doesn’t reply to you as usual and stares at you silently.

“I know you hate me…you don’t even like being around me, I know you hate meeting me, if it weren’t for Kafka you wouldn’t even look in my direction…”

You close your eyes and look down as you feel the tears starting to form and run down your face again. At this rate you weren’t sure what was hurting more, the gash on your back or the pain in your heart. You were spilling everything that had been on your mind since the beginning of it all when you first started falling for him. On a normal day, you would never speak your thoughts out like this but nothing about today was normal, was it? What you don’t notice is the tiny frown that has formed on Blade’s face as you speak. You draw a shaky breath as you continue.

“Why did you save me…? You should have left me alone…at least that way you would never see me again and that would make you happy I know-“

“I suggest you shut it.”

You look up as he cuts you off. There is a strange expression on his face consisting of annoyance and anger. He grits his teeth as he holds himself back from saying more. But you being you, you shake your head and continue, the tears now splattering on the blankets lying on the floor as your emotions come out in full force.

“Where are we? Is Kafka here...? I can let her know that she no longer needs to send you to meet me…I’m sure she will understand-“

“I said shut it.”

His voice drops down an octave and you feel fear creep up your spine. Afraid, you drop your head again but you can guess that his crimson eyes are probably aflame right now based on your previous observations. Do you listen? No.

“You don’t have to do this…if Kafka is making you do this you can go now it’s ok-“

“Have you always been this insufferable?!”

The sharpness in his voice and the tightening grip on your neck make you flinch in fear. He quickly lets go when he realises he’s hurting you and exhales. You remain staring at the ground, afraid to look up at his face. Unfortunately, before you can reply to him, the gash on your back starts to hurt again and you tremble, frowning as the pain sharpens.

“What’s wrong?”

There is a hint of panic in his voice as you squirm. Your knuckles turn white from the way you hold onto the blanket and your arms feel weak. Everything turns hazy again and nausea kicks in. A dull throb starts to pound in your head causing a groan to slip from your mouth.

“Y/N.”

He calls your name out as he gently lifts your chin. His frown deepens seeing the pain all over your face. Beads of cold sweat form on the side of your forehead and he notices you’re struggling to breathe again.

“It hurts Blade…it hurts…”

You say softly as your eyes blur again. The endless tears you have shed today in front of him shatter his heart. With each tear that streams down your face, he finds himself in agony, wishing it was him that was hurting instead, wishing that the pain you were dealing with were his to bear. But no, there is nothing he can do except watch you wither from your wounds. He reaches out to cup your face, slowly wiping the tears away with one hand while the other supports your shoulder. You shiver a little from the contact nevertheless welcome it. His touch is unfamiliar yet so soothing on your bare skin.

“Did the medicine wear off?”

You slowly nod yes and he sighs. Your injuries are severe after all, no wonder the concoction didn’t last long. It is a miracle that you are still breathing and conscious after such an event. He looks behind you at the faint glimmers of moonlight. Judging by the dimming rays, it should be dawn soon, he notes.

“Bear it for a little longer, Kafka will have a friend of yours escort you to a nearby infirmary soon.”

To his surprise, you shake your head and lean into the palm of his hand. He freezes momentarily but doesn’t push you away.

“I..remain with me..a little longer..please..?”

Your voice is shaky and barely audible as you make your request. Your puffy eyes flutter close preventing you from seeing how his expression softens a bit and the small smile that forms on his face. He gently pushes you towards him, causing you to lean into his body. You don’t deny the silent invitation and rest your head in the crook of his neck, a tiny smile forming on your face as you inhale his sweet metallic scent. His heartbeat is irregular and louder than usual from how your breath tickles his neck but you are too lightheaded to notice. His hand now rests at the base of your head while the other one lies loosely on your waist, gently caressing you in an attempt to ease your pain. You still squirm and twitch every now and then but it does not bother him, for right now all he cares about making you feel as comfortable as possible.

“I don’t hate you.”

He mutters under his breath. You’re barely conscious so he can say whatever he wants right? Not that you will really remember any of this.

“Hate…is not a word I would use on you.”

He glances at you. Your back rises and falls slowly from your breathing. He takes a look at your injured back once again and clenches his jaw. The bandages he had wrapped around you were starting to become bloody again.

“You perplex me. Yet your outlandish behaviour is so amusing. I cannot stay away from you.”

The fingers around your waist tighten as his grip becomes more firm. You shudder a bit at his action but say nothing. Not that you are in your right mind anyway, everything he says feels like a fever dream, a faraway voice talking to you.

“I prefer having you around. Your company delights me.”

He continues on as he strokes the back of your neck and you hum in content. You fit so perfectly against the palm of his hands and the crook of his neck, almost as if you were meant to be his. Meant to be his companion.

“You asked why I care…I care because I want you around.”

He leans into your head making sure to avoid the bruise on your forehead. Your hair tickles his face and the faint scent of your shampoo pleasantly occupies his senses. You’ve managed to fall asleep now from the low rumbling of his voice and the warmth his body radiates. A quiet chuckle leaves his lips as he realises this and the unyielding grip he has on you doubles.

“If you were to get hurt again…”

He murmurs inaudibly as he gazes in the distance. No, he would never allow you to be hurt again. He wouldn’t let such an opportunity arise in the first place. And if some lowly fool even dared to lay their hands on you…they would be a dead man walking. Once you got better and your wounds healed completely, he would make sure to protect you from any harm to the best of his abilities. But for now…

He looks at you again, his eyes burning with concern and a tinge of malevolence. No one could take you away from him. When the time was right and he was certain, he would make you his. For now, you resting contently in his arms, breathing softly in the safety of his protection should suffice. ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇ ©mm-lurking 2024 do not copy, steal or reuse my work.

#honkai star rail #blade x reader #hsr x reader #blade hsr #hsr blade #blade x you #blade honkai #blade angst #blade fluff #enemies to lovers #stellaron hunters #tsundere #yingxing #hsr angst #hsr #star rail #hsr fluff

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ashdreams2023 · 8 months ago

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Hiii, could I request a severus snape and little sister reader where she's the opposite of him and so all the students love her until someone insults him one day and she's all snarky and a miniature version of snape and everyone's like ".....maybe they are alike....." while severus looks on like a proud parent??? I love your fics so much!! Thankss!!

The same tree

Severus snape x professor sister reader

The student body was in shambles the day you were announced as a new staff member, the name snape was enough to send shivers down some students backs.

They barely handled one snape, let alone two!

Everyone expected the worst, 2.0 snape female version then you got to your first class, it wasn’t like anything they had in mind.

Heck you gave house points and they paid attention to the lessons.

"She’s human, oh my god she’s not evil!"

It spread pretty quickly how nice and patient you were, you didn’t show any favoritism towards anyone nor did you encourage any rivalry in your class, as long as they passed it was a win for you.

Your office hours were filled with students coming to you for help, some even asking for help of topics other than what you teach, sometimes asking about stories of your youth but none dared to ask about your brother.

But there were times were kids can get way too comfortable in matters that have no business with them, unfortunately for a certain fourth year Ravenclaw he learned his lesson the hard way.

"I can’t believe that git took points because I added a point to his lesson! It’s fucking ridiculous, he’s a selfish idiot who only wants his way and everyone else is wrong"

"Jesus calm down mate, it’s only ten points you’ll live and he’s like the professor so…"

The Ravenclaw rolled his eyes "I know the book, I read it piece to piece I know my way around this stuff, he’s just one bitter old son of a bitch-"

"Excuse me you little bird" the boy froze as he felt a hand touching his shoulder, he looked up to meet your piercing dark eyes, they had the dangerously familiar feeling to those of their potion master.

"Professor i-"

"No no no…go on, continue what you were about to say so the oh so great Ravenclaw knows everything, because what? Because you read an outdated, basic, dusty ass potion book"

The boy swallowed, your tone was so different, you weren’t smiling and it reminded him of being schooled by severus snape himself.

"Why so quiet? Snake got your tongue?" You smiled proudly at the look of terror on the boy’s face "Let this be a lesson to you little bird, my brother is no idiot and without him little airheads and know it alls would be dead by now, so know your place, am I understood?" You tightened your grip on his shoulder.

"Yes ma’m!"

"And 30 points from Ravenclaw for showing disrespect to faculty staff members"

The boy’s jaw dropped but didn’t dear argue back and sprinted away with his friends, you couldn’t care less that students were watching, they call all spread rumors or whatever.

"Oh my god…she is like him…"

"Shush she’s gonna hear you! At least now we know not to overstep it"

You sighed and left the great hall, you pumped into your brother by the end of the day, he arched an eyebrow at you when you causally sat down and sipped your tea.

"I see you’ve made quite the impression today"

You shrugged "They’re just stupid kids, it was about time they learn anyways"

Severus leaned back on his armchair "You sound awfully familiar to me, I suppose I am rubbing off on you"

"The apples may look different but they all belong to the same tree" you smirked.

"You’re still terrible at potions though" He remarked knowing well how atrocious you were at his best interest.

"Hey! I was defending your honor"

You glared at him and he glared back then after a few seconds of intense looks you two snorted at each other and went back to having your regular sitting for the day.

Thank you for your kind words and glad you do 🥰

#imagine #pro severus snape #severus snape x y/n #platonic severus snape x reader #severus snape fanfiction #severussnape #harry potter requests #severus snape headcanon #severus x reader #severus snape x you #severus snape x reader #severus #severus snape #snapedom #pro severus

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jishyucks · 1 year ago

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My Boss Followed Me Home for Christmas — pjs

‣ pairing: CEO!park jay x reader

‣ genre: fluff, coworkers-to-something more?, traces of hurt/comfort

‣ wc: 4.0k

‣ summary: Your ability to empathize was a blessing and curse. When you see your boss sitting alone in his office on Christmas Day, you can’t help but invite him to your family party. And when he actually says yes, you’re kind of stuck regretting the offer simply because you’re not sure how this is going to turn out.

‣ warnings: none I don’t think?, implications that Jay doesn’t have the best family (they’re just realllly busy, nothing too bad), reader has a big family, implied that reader is smaller/shorter than Jay

‣ an: 3rd in the True Love Gave to Me Series! I honestly enjoyed writing this so much (hence why it’s way longer than I wanted it to be),, the filipino rly jumped out in this with the big family and the games I’m sorry (>///<) it’s honestly just what I’m more familiar with so it was easier for me to write! Anyways,, ENJOY THIS AND THANKS FOR READING!!

Series Masterlist

It was weird seeing the office so empty.

You weren’t constantly dodging bodies on the way to your desk, you’re not overstimulated by the sounds of the printers and the ringing phones, and the place did not seem as suffocating as you usually make it out to be.

But it was only empty because it was Christmas. There was absolutely no one here and you were only here to pick up your work agenda, which made complete sense why the office was so much more appealing.

You wished it was usually like this.

Your phone rings the second you reach your desk. When you go to check who was calling you, you find your mother’s contact photo blown up on your screen and you answer it almost right away.

“Hey mom.”

“Honey, where are you? Are you on the way?” You can hear voices in the background at the other end of the line and you’re guessing your family just arrived at the party.

“I am,” you say, “I just dropped by the office to pick something up. I’m guessing I’ll be there in around fifteen to twenty minutes?” You lean against your desk. You realize your agenda is not sitting on your desk so you figured it was somewhere inside it.

“Okay, hon,” your mom acknowledges your reply, “Take care on the way here, the roads are slippery.” She says something to someone next to her, and before you can even reply she hangs up.

You tuck your phone into your jacket pocket and pull your desk cabinet open, immediately finding your agenda on top of everything. You mutter a 'there it is' before you push the cabinet back shut, turning to leave.

It’s before you leave that you notice the light on at the end of the long hallway to the left of your desk. It was a hallway rather hidden from the main office, so you hadn’t taken notice of it at first, but now that you did take notice, curiosity had gotten the best of you.

Because who in the world was here on Christmas?

You’d take a good guess and say it was a caretaker, but you didn’t think any of the caretakers were even paid well enough to be here on a major holiday. So if it wasn’t a caretaker, who was it?

You quietly make your way down the hallway, passing empty offices along the way. Then once you’ve just about reached the seemingly occupied room, you halt and use your neck to peek around the corner.

A gasp almost audibly leaves your lips when your eyes catch sight of your boss sitting alone at his desk. His brows are furrowed as he stares up at his screen, eyes looking rather intently at whatever he was working on. You can tell that he didn’t expect anyone to catch him at the office, dressed in a simple designer hoodie.

You hate how one of the first thoughts that enter your mind is how attractive the man looks just sitting there and typing. But you were human, after all.

“Sir?”

Jay jumps at your voice, swearing under his breath, “Y-Y/N? What are you doing here?” His cheeks heat up in embarrassment, he makes brief eye contact with you before he avoids it altogether.

“I was just,” you hold up your agenda, “Picking this up… what are you doing here, sir? Don’t you have any plans for Christmas?” Sure your reply seemed a bit inconsiderate because in the back of your mind you knew not everyone celebrated Christmas or the holidays… but your boss had a mini Christmas tree sitting at the corner of his desk, so you figured he did celebrate the season in some way.

Jay’s still slightly taken aback, frozen in his seat as he studies the random lines on his computer, “I… don’t.” You watch the way his lips flicker into a frown for a quick second before he plasters a fake smile, “But it’s okay! I have a lot of work to do anyway for Wednesday! Better to catch up befo—”

“Sir, I know I don’t really have a right to say this, but you should take the day off and relax,” you frown.

Jay is unsure how to reply. He sits in his seat for a few brief moments and his mouth bobs open and closed like a fish. Cause, frankly, how can he reply to that when he wants to do anything but go home to an empty house? Why did it have to be you who had to catch him?

If it were anyone else, they would have left him alone.

If it were anyone else, it would have been easier to send them off with some dismissive reply he can muster up in his head.

“I don’t really want to go home,” Jay says quietly. It’s so quiet that you almost don’t catch it. But you do. And because you do, you catch the way his lips remain downturned. He just thinks you can’t see it behind the miniature Christmas tree.

You feel a tickling feeling in your chest and without thinking, you ask, “Do you want to come to my family’s Christmas party tonight?” It’s funny because you don’t regret your question (well, just a bit, but that’s beside the point). In fact, a small part of you was actually glad that your mouth had decided to choke the question out before you could hold yourself back.

Jay gulps. He wasn’t against it, but wouldn’t it be odd for him to come?

“I don’t want to be a bother.”

You take a step forward so that you can now clearly see him. His eyes were running over the keys of his keyboard over and over, trying to keep himself from looking at you. “You won’t be a bother. My family’s pretty big so there’s a lot of space.”

“It’s really okay, Y/N, I’m fine spending time here.”

“Sir, I promise you, it’s fine,” you press, “My other family members bring guests all the time and we don’t care.” You take another step forward and now it was harder for Jay to avoid your gaze.

He’s forced to look up at you and that was his mistake. Jay feels his chest explode with warmth because he now just realized that you were dressed more casually than he was used to. You were wearing a pair of baggy jeans and underneath your long coat, he could see Rudolph printed on your ugly Christmas sweater. He admits to himself that you looked adorable, but to remain professional he keeps that thought at the back of his head.

“If… if you insist,” Jay replies slowly, unsure whether or not he should turn his computer off

Your eyes light up, “Well, I’m going there right now. You can follow me to my house.”

“Right now?” Jay’s hesitant to move, hand frozen on his mouse, “As in right this second?”

The answer was yes. Right that second.

The next thing Jay knew, he was following you up the stairs of your front porch and he was not even sure how to act. He was a CEO for God’s sake. Why was he nervous about joining you for a Christmas party when he’s always up at the front of a business room speaking? It wasn’t like he was meeting your family as your boyfriend or anything (and it for sure wasn’t because he wanted to make a good impression on your family…).

“Where are my damn keys…” You’re standing at your front door, wrist-deep and rummaging through your small bag. Jay awkwardly stands behind you, teetering back and forth on the balls of his feet like a little kid.

Before you can even find your keys, the door swings open to reveal a short older woman with a kind smile. Her eyes light up at the sight of you and when she exclaims “Honey! Finally!” Jay immediately figures that the woman is your mom.

“Come in, come in,” she quickly says, “It’s cold out there. Oh! And you must be…?” Your mom leans over to look at Jay who’s unsure whether he should actually move.

You speak up for him, “Um, mom, this is my bos—”

“I’m Jay,” he interrupts, “I’m–uh–Y/N’s coworker and friend.”

“His family is–uh–busy for Christmas so I invited him,” you quickly add, “I hope that’s okay with you, mom.”

You look back at him with a questioning look but he quickly dismisses it, “Nice to meet you, ma’am.”

“It’s no problem, the more the merrier! And oh, just call me Auntie! There’s really no need for those kinds of formalities,” your mom laughs. Then she looks over at you with a smirk ghosting her lips but she stops herself, “Everyone’s just waiting to eat.”

You let your mom walk ahead and you stay back, “Sir, what—”

“Y/N, we’re not at work,” Jay points out. And hearing you call him sir was sort of irritating him right now, “It’s… Just call me Jay… besides you invited me into your home right?” Then he repeats what your mom said just moments ago, “No need for those kinds of formalities.”

You can’t help but laugh, side-eyeing him, “Fine, if you say so, Jay.”

You lead Jay into the house, and he’s greeted by your family members sprawled out all over the living room and kitchen. When you said your family was big, you weren’t kidding. He had no idea how he was supposed to approach this situation.

When Jay turns the corner, trailing you closely, he’s met with a room full of people, all dressed in ugly Christmas sweaters like you were. A few of your older relatives were sitting at the dining table chatting about something seemingly interesting. At one corner of the nearby living room, right by the Christmas tree, were kids shaking presents, trying to take good guesses as to what they were receiving this year. And huddled on the couches was a group of young adults around your age—he’d guess they were your cousins—and they were having their own conversation, too.

And though Jay should be feeling out of place because not only does he not know anyone but you, he wasn’t wearing an ugly Christmas sweater like everyone else was, he simply doesn’t.

The atmosphere felt welcoming—that was his first impression. And he couldn't have been happier when you started introducing him to everyone, making him genuinely feel welcome.

Your aunts and uncles gazed at him with large eyes, curious about who this boy was despite you clearly introducing him as your friend. And when you brought him to meet your cousins last, you were surprised that Jay easily clicked with your guy cousins. It was like you were seeing a whole different side of your boss, one that proved that he was your age and not the uptight CEO you face at work.

“The dress code for this year was ugly Christmas sweaters,” you say once you both settled with your cousins, “But I’m guessing you already noticed.” Jay sits cross-legged in the empty spot next to you.

Jay nods, “Your family all seem so nice.”

“I’m glad you think that,” you grin, “I take pride in that, if I’m being honest.” Then you realize that the topic of family might be a bit too sensitive for Jay and you try to change it, “Anyways, after dinner, we play games. You better join.”

“I’ll try?” Jay questions. You can tell he’s growing more comfortable with the situation, but he’s still trying to keep himself composed.

“Trying is better than nothing,” you shrug, “But I promise you you’ll have a lot of fun.”

There’s a brief silence between the two of you and Jay has this sudden urge to thank you. Because, well, it made sense in this situation. He could wait ‘till the end, but he was itching to just shower you in thank yous.

“Y/N?”

“Hm?”

“This took me a while to find deep in your dad’s things but I finally found it!” Your mom comes out of nowhere, arms slipping between the two of you to reveal an ugly sweater, “I know your dad had another from years ago!”

“I’m confused,” you say.

“For Jay!” Your mom holds the sweater out for Jay to take, a bright smile stretched across her face. She jokes, “Don’t want you sticking out like a sore thumb in pictures. Why are you wearing black on Christmas, hm?”

You almost facepalm, seeing your mom treat Jay like he was your boyfriend. Sure, it was great she was trying to make Jay feel even more included, but the gesture seemed so… odd to be doing it with just a friend of yours. You’re hoping that Jay isn’t getting the wrong idea because, frankly, it would be embarrassing if he did.

“Oh… t-thank you auntie…” Jay gulps and you see his eyes flicker toward you. He wonders if you think it was weird for him to take it. But he didn’t want to say no to your mom, not when she went out of her way to find the sweater, “I’ll put it on right now.”

“You better,” your mom jokes one more time before leaving you both and back to your other relatives.

You watch as Jay goes to take his hoodie off, revealing a white t-shirt. At first glance, you don’t process what’s printed on his shirt, but when he fumbles with the sweater, you realize that it’s an old Christmas shirt from when he was a kid. The text reads Christmas 2010 and the picture is a picture of him and his parents. You figured that the shirt was probably his dad's.

You smile sadly, eyeing the shirt as he throws on the sweater. You don’t notice, but the corners of Jay’s lips lift upward into a small, subtle smile. He looks up at you, “How does it look?”

“It looks good,” you say, “A little bit big, but it’s fine.” You can see the way the sleeves bunch up at Jay’s wrists. He looked rather adorable in the sweater (and again, you don’t say anything).

The games began soon after it was established that everyone was finished digesting their food.

One of your older cousins, who had planned the games, started the games with the kids first. You secretly knew it was just a tactic to get them tired for later, hoping that they’d settle while the adults and older kids played their own games.

Then when that was done and over with, she moved on to the first game that you and Jay could participate in—the island game. The premise of the game was to step onto a sheet of gift wrapping paper and, along with a partner, fold and manipulate it so that they both could stand on it without touching the floor.

“We need six groups of two!”

Two by two, you watch your cousins as they group together, stepping up to get the secret prize sitting in a gift bag.

“You two should join!” your mom urges, “What fun is it just watching? Jay, you must be clever right? Go try!”

Afraid to say no to your mom, Jay turns to you, “I’ll do it if you do it… you said it’d be fun, right?”

You hesitate for a quick moment. Yes, the games were fun, but you were talking about the relays or the simple, single-player games. You weren’t sure if you wanted to play with Jay, simply because it involved having to get all up close and personal with your partner.

You look around and notice that a handful of your family members are waiting for you and Jay to join, and that pressure is something you can’t take. You nod and plaster a smile on your face, “Right! Let’s go!”

Nervously you walk to an empty sheet sitting flat on the ground and Jay follows you, standing at your side as your cousin runs over the rules. You wait for Jay to realize the mistake he’s made by suggesting to play, but instead of a look of worry, he’s smiling. He looked rather excited, a hint of determination ghosting his face.

Before you both know it, the game begins. The first round was the easiest—you both had simply stood within the two-feet by two-feet sheet of paper. But as each round passes, the area that you and Jay can stand on gets smaller and smaller. And as the area shrinks, so does the space between you two.

You’re so close to him that you can smell his perfume and you can feel his breath against your forehead. Your heart betrays you because you can feel it pounding against your chest. You only hope that Jay doesn’t hear or feel it.

You look down at the folded sheet of paper. It was less than half of its original size and something is telling you that the next round was going to be difficult.

Your cousin cues for the next round to begin and you and Jay get off the paper to fold it. He mumbles, “I don’t think we can both stand on this. Or both our feet at least.”

“We can each balance on one foot,” you suggested. You test out the size and place your foot on it. There was barely enough room for two feet.

When Jay notices this he shakes his head, “I don’t think that would work… we’d just fall over. I think I’ll have to carry you.” His suggestion makes you look up and you find him staring back, “You can get on my back?”

“Can you balance on one foot with me on your back?” you question. It’s suddenly getting hot in the room. Was it your sweater? You hope so. You don’t want to dwindle on the thought any longer.

He nods, “I think I can.”

“O-Okay,” you say quietly. You glance at the other teams and see that your cousins are on the brink of tears trying not to laugh because if they laughed, they’d lose balance with the ridiculous poses they’re somehow pulling.

Jay kneels down, one knee touching the ground before he gestures for you to get on. And you do, though you get on carefully because you’re still not processing the situation. Once you hop on his back, Jay gently guides your legs around his torso and he pulls your upper body closer to his back with a tug on your sleeve. When you are secured on his back, he easily stands up.

Now you’re afraid that he can feel the way your heart’s beating against his back. There was absolutely no way he couldn’t.

“It’s easier for me if you’re like this,” he says to you. You nod even though you’re right behind him, “Stay as still as you can.”

Jay steps onto the folded piece of paper, waiting for your cousin to tell the teams that it is time to hold positions. Once she had given the signal, Jay raised his left leg in the slightest, balancing on just his right foot.

Almost immediately, your cousins fail to keep themselves from touching the ground and, somehow, you and Jay are the only ones left standing. You don't process it until it is announced.

“Congratulations to Y/N and Jay for being the first adult winners of the night!” Your cousin cheers. You notice that she has tears in her eyes from laughing as she approaches you both with the prize. A bunch of the older adults are clapping in amusement, heads shaking from the entertainment.

You quickly jump off of Jay’s back, and out of habit, you grab his hand, shaking it out of joy. You repeat a ‘we won’ a couple of times and Jay couldn’t help but beam at the string of events, watching as you receive the present for the both of you.

Jay has never in his life played party games at a family party. Sure his family was too busy to even have parties like this, but even if they did have the time to plan out a party, his family was too small for these games to even be considered fun.

And if he were being honest, this party was the most fun he’s had in so long.

“What is it?” Jay leans in close to you, trying to catch sight of whatever’s in the bag. You both have settled on the couch while the next game begins.

You pull the prize out to reveal two big bags of your favourite expensive holiday chocolate and your eyes gleam at the sight. You drop one bag and then hand the other to Jay, “Here you go. That was fun!”

Jay nods, a smile settling upon his lips. “It really was.” The adrenaline from the game is beginning to vanish and he’s coming down from his high. “Let’s play the next one?”

When it was getting late, Jay decided that it was time to leave. It wasn’t like he was leaving to escape from the party, because truly, he had spent so much time on games and picture-taking that his energy was beginning to diminish. He’d love to stay, but he knows that tomorrow, he’ll have to be back at the office doing work.

He wonders how this night will change the way you guys are in office. Surely, he’ll keep his professionalism at work, but he can’t just pass by you tomorrow and act like you didn’t willingly invite him into your home to spend Christmas with your family.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, sir!” You say at the doorway, “I hope you had fun.” Jay is silent for a few long moments and you can’t help but call out to him, “Sir?”

“S-sorry, I just started getting you used to calling me by name that it threw me off,” he replies sheepishly.

“Oh… um, I’ll call you whatever you’d like.”

“When we’re out of the office, just call me Jay okay?” Jay shuffled forward and he’s closer to you now, “It’s more fitting, don’t you think?”

You nod and you huff out a large puff of air that shows up in front of you, “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow then, Jay.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Y/N,” Jay echoes. There's a lingering feeling in the cool air that engulfs the both of you. You couldn't quite put a name to it, but it was a nice feeling. It was warm. Then, before you know it, Jay finds himself giving you a hug. And not one of those half-assed side hugs, but one that you could easily tell he needed.

You hesitate at first, but then you slowly return the gesture.

After what felt like a while, he stepped back, “S-sorry I... I'm just really thankful for tonight. Tell your family thank you, too.” There’s so much more that Jay wants to say, but for now, this will simply suffice.

“It’s nothing,” you say, still slightly stunned, “I expect to see you next year, then.”

One corner of Jay’s lips jerks up and he laughs, “I’ll be looking forward to it.”

When Jay leaves, you turn back to rejoin your family, who’s looking at you expectedly.

“What?”

“Did you guys kiss?” One of your cousins joke.

You brows furrow and you burst out laughing, “Ha! No way!” What the hell was this guy even talking about? You and Jay kissing? He was your boss for god’s sake. Isn’t that like… forbidden or something?

You try to change the topic because the thought was mind-boggling and you didn’t want them to catch the way your cheeks and your ears were heating up at the thought. “He says thank you,” You say and move to sit next to them, “And I told him he should come next Christmas.”

Your mom betrays you, “As your boyfriend?” Of course she would say that.

Another laugh leaves your lips and you shake your head, “I don’t think that’ll ever happen.”

(Or so you think.)

taglist: @tytrackfebreze @hoonieji @niinjo @dinonuguaegi

an: ughhhhhh I really love this pair (ಡ᎔ಡ) it would be soso cute to see more of them but I can'tttt I need to write the other ones,, pls leave comments cause I love hearing your thoughts!,, n e ways I hope you enjoyed this! Renjun is up next, so please look forward to his!

#Enhypen #enhypen imagines #jay enhypen #enhypen jay #park jongseong #enhypen scenarios #enhypen fluff #jay imagines #park jongseong imagines #park jongseong scenarios #Kpop #kpop imagines #my writings #enhypen x reader #Jay x reader #Park jay x reader #Park jongseong x reader #Jay park x reader

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shadowbriar · 1 month ago

Text

Five Hargreeves — Daddy Issues

Pairing : Five Hargreeves x (she/her) CIA!Reader Word Count : 3.3k Warning : Angst. Character death. Snogging but nothing too graphic. Season 4 references. Synopsis : He promised himself that he would not let her come near his family madness, but the marigold was melting his blood vessels and none of his siblings look like they’re ready for a real fight. Notes : Inspired by The Neighborhood - Daddy Issues. If you like this story and would like to support me, please visit my kofi page and perhaps get me a coffee?☕

The lack of presence on the other side of the bed made him pull himself entirely out off of drowsiness. Five’s frown was deep when he pulled the blanket up to cover his body, half sitting up with his elbows as support as he scans the room. It was far too early for his liking.

He caught her standing by the bookshelf, his white shirt hanging loose on her shoulders. A small satisfied smile tugs in the corner of his lips. The sight was too pretty for him to not appreciate. She was lost in her own world, caught in her own thoughts. Too busy reading the scribbles of some crumpled paper to realise that the other person in the room has awakened.

“Found something you’re looking for?”

She looks up to see him with a wide smile, looking slightly sheepish of being caught red handed, “No, but I found this,” She took out the fake moustache she found, placing it on her face “How do I look?”

“Ridiculous,” Five says, rolling his eyes “Come here so I can rip it off of you.”

Her grin only becomes wider as she comes closer to the man. She sits on the edge of the bed, leaning so that he could take the silly moustache off of her.

“What’s the story?” She asks, still curious about the peculiar item “Any exciting undercover stories you want to share?”

“You know I can’t even if I wanted to. And I don’t,” He remarks, giving her a playful disapproving look “What were you doing rummaging my stash?”

She shrugs, “I was just bored. You always wake up much later than I do.”

“It’s only what— 6 am? It's not my fault you have sleeping problems.”

She rolls her eyes in response.

Five bite down his smile as he leans in, kissing her softly.

This wasn’t what Five had in mind when he ran through the portal six years ago. Losing his powers and having to build a new life in a strange timeline was certainly not in his to-do list, but developing some clandestine affair with a girl from work was a bigger mindblown for the mentally sixty three years old man. Romance and any other personal relationship were practically out the window the moment he understood about the Apocalypse. Yet now, after one too many timelines, Five has found himself entangled with the knots of love.

He would never admit it out loud. Afraid that a confession would only spoil the fragile bond they’ve created. Hell, this was never even a proper relationship. It was just a simple deal made by two adults. A little roleplay they do whenever they’re alone. Nothing too serious, nothing too monogamous. Strictly business.

But he knew he was doomed the moment he tasted her. There was no other drug that could be as intoxicating, no other substance as addicting. The way that she knew just how much of a dose to give to get him crawling back for more. How she would push further than she pulled him. A little game she does that he’d never grow tired of.

There was only one rule— no rules within these four walls. He could show her how much he cares, how much he worships her, whenever she comes over. Not an inch of her skin left without his kiss. Five was whipped beyond saving whenever the door closes, but even with such intense affection, neither of them dared to pop the question.

“What are you thinking about?” She asks, staring deep into his eyes.

“I’m thinking whatever you’re thinking about.”

She bites her lower lip, climbing on top of him. She pulls him for a proper kiss, clinging her arms around his neck as he rests his hands on her hips.

“Tell me something I’ll forget,” She whispers, kissing the corner of his lips “Something you might have to tell me again.”

Five hesitated. The words were hanging by the tip of his tongue, threatening to spill in any second. Her gentle touch was melting his walls, breaking each and every fortress he’s built over the years. For someone who thought that he’s seen all the things in life, Five was once again caught by surprise.

“How bout I show you instead?” He offers, swapping their positions that she’s now laying on her back with him on top of her.

One of his hands travels to cup her cheek, deepening their kiss as he changes their course of action. Five could feel her smiling through the kiss, giving him the courage to continue his venture. His thumb brushes the skin of her cheek gently. Years of being a cold blooded spy had made him think that there’s no tenderness left in his soul. A broken shell of a man is all he is. Yet, he was once again proven wrong by her. Always her, only her.

It’s crazy what you’ll do for a friend.

—-

“Tell me about your past lovers.”

His grip on her hand loosen a little, brows rising from the unexpected request. It was fortunate of him to have her back leaning on his chest. This way she wouldn’t have heard the slight spike of his heart nor seen the surprise he had in his face. How he blinked and furrowed his brows as his brain tried to digest her words.

He lets go of her hand and rests his arm around her shoulder, silently caging her in an embrace in case the words he utters would make her flee, “Lover. There was only one woman.”

“What’s her name?”

“Dolores,” He sighs, the rare forlorn look in his eyes were potent “Her name was Dolores.”

“What happened between you and Dolores?”

There was a brief pause. His chest hitches as he struggles to find the words, “I.. Left her.”

“Why?”

“I had to.”

“Is that what you’re going to do to me too?” She questions. The fragility of her voice made him wince. Voicing her words barely above a whisper.

“I might,” He confesses with a heavy heart, swallowing a lump in his throat “Will you hate me then?”

She turns her head to face him, nodding like it was a promise, “I will.”

She wanted to ask more. To know deeper about what happened between him and Dolores. If their separation was recent or if he ever tried to come back to her. She wanted to know what made him leave. If there was a bigger story to tell, a bigger secret to share. She wanted to know if he loved her, if he would use his hands to trace the invisible stars on her skin and mark it with his kisses, if he would tell her the word she’s been dying to hear from him. She wanted to know it all.

And Five wanted to tell. He wanted to tell her about the fights and all the running he’s done for the past years. He wanted to tell her how Dolores was the only thing keeping him sane after being trapped in the post-apocalyptic wasteland for forty-five years. He wanted to tell her how tired he is, how he misses his powers and secretly hoped that he never got out of that hotel alive. He wanted to tell it all.

But both of their words die in their tongues. Crestfallen from all the silence that they’re bound to be stuck in. Their eyes tried their best to convey the message their lips couldn’t utter, hoping that the invisible string between them was strong enough to connect their hearts better than words ever could.

Her fingers gently tucked the stubborn strand of hair off of his face. She studies him, trying to see any trace of deceit or vice, but all she could see was the love bleeding out of him like a muck. His eyes were warm, radiating with that one sentiment she’s never seen on anyone else.

She cups both of his cheeks, softly kissing his lips, “I wish you’d let me in.”

Five shakes his head, “I’d never put you in such danger.”

“I can take care of myself,” She argues, an impressed smile decorating her face “Have you forgotten? We’re literally CIA agents.”

He smiles, pulling her head to his chest.

They would never admit it but tender moments like this scares the living out of the both of them. It felt too real, too personal to what they signed up for, but they would rather lose a limb than to miss it. For some reason such delicateness felt like it would dissipate in a moment. Like a bitter farewell was looming behind, ready to catch them off guard and without a fight.

And so they keep quiet. Letting the frail second to fall gracefully like the first drop of snow. His fingers entangle themselves with her hair while she listens carefully to the steady rise and fall of his chest. They make notes of one another, recording each and every little thing the other does before their time turns into bittersweet memory.

—-

Five hesitated. He taps on the payphone with uncertainty, doubting if he should dial her number and ask for the favour. He promised himself that he would not let her come near his family madness, but the marigold was melting his blood vessels and none of his siblings look like they’re ready for a real fight. Whatever this dry cleaner’s daughter kidnapping was about has certainly gone a notch more serious than it ever was.

He weighs his options. The only thing he could make out of her were the pleasant times they’ve spent. The laughter and the stolen glances they would exchange when nobody was around. The sun has always shone on top of them, no rain nor shade to ever taint their story. It feels as if they’ve been living in a fairytale despite all the secrecy he hides from her.

But Ben’s tails were stubborn and Lila’s laser eyesight was not boosting his confidence enough to follow through with this rescue mission. His family might have gotten their powers back, but it was an overstatement to say that the team was officially back on. Their bodies were still trying to readjust themselves with the liquid gold, whatever it might mean now.

The bitterness in his tongue sets thicker as his decision comes to a final. For some reason believing that calling her would compromise the charming affair they have. Not from the squabbles his family might show, but from other perils he couldn’t foresee.

“Hello?” She answers right on the second ring “Who is this?”

Five’s words were caught in his throat, unable to continue his action.

“Hello?”

“It’s me,” He finally says.

“Five? Is everything okay?” She questions, worry evident in her tone as she proceeds to speak in whisper “I know we promised not to talk during work hours, but I heard that you’re taking a sick leave and now you’re calling and I just— I’m worried.”

“I know. I’m sorry,” He answers, his tone heavy with regret “I’m fine. I’m just— Look, there’s something I need to tell you,” There was a pause, clearly still debating if he should end the call and just face whatever’s to come alone with his family.

“Five? Are you there?”

He nods, his voice strained with anxiety, “Yeah, I just— I’m going to Maine. There’s something I need to do there with my family.”

“Oh, okay. Will you be back soon?”

“No, I.. I don’t know,” He answers in surrender “Listen, I know I’m asking too much of you but.. Could you meet me there? In New Grumpson?”

A few seconds of silence, her confusion thick in her voice, “You.. Want me to come to your family gathering?”

“Well, it’s not really a gathering,” Five struggles to explain, running a hand through his hair “It’s more of a.. Rescue mission? I can’t explain the details through the phone, there isn’t enough time.”

“I can’t just drop things off and drive to Maine, Five. I’m in the middle of a case,” She reasoned.

“I know, but I need you to come. I need you to help me,” He begs, his heart beating fast inside of his chest as if it could already see the disaster this phone call would bring “I promise to tell you everything. I’ll explain everything—about my family, about myself, about Dolores, about us. I’ll tell you everything. I just— I need to do it in person. Please.. Please come and meet me there.”

There was still silence from the other side of the phone.

“I promise to let you in,” He continues, his voice faltering in despair “I’ll tell you what you want to hear. What I needed to tell you a long time ago.”

Silence hung heavy in the air. Beads of sweat were breaking in the back of his neck, afraid that he’s just lost everything before it even started. There was no going back now. Not even with the power that he’s just gotten back.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah, fuck it,” She answers, having zero sense of hesitation left in her voice “But you better tell me right after I get there.”

“I will, I promise.” Five bites his grin, taking a deep breath of relief before he finally says the magic words “I love you. And I promise to say it again when we meet.”

—-

She has to admit, driving countless hours down to New Grumpson with little to no context, might not have been one of her brightest moments. She should’ve asked more about the plan, where to meet and what time, before hanging up and picking her car keys. God knows how she would meet Five now. Who’s to tell just how big this town is or if he’s even in the city yet. She was blind. Completely lost in a random town thousands of miles from home.

Between finding some covers for the windows that Victor broke and frequent bathroom breaks, the Hargreeves siblings could only reach their destination when the sun was already at its peak. Not to mention the bickering that they have to resolve every other ten minutes. The eight of them are certainly behind schedule but without any means of communication, there was no way for her to know his whereabouts.

Now sitting in a diner, she wonders just how long she should wait before leaving this town. There’s something eerie about this place. The people were kind, sure, but she couldn’t help but feel like she was being watched. Like these people were not just civilians but someone placed to fill certain roles to make up the city folks.

She watches as a man enters the diner. He was kicked out the first time by the diner’s owner, but supposed the kind lady could see that this stranger was in need of a shelter. He looks like a tourist, too. A little lost and too peaky to be a local.

And that’s when she heard it, the first gunshot outside. She reaches for her own gun, hiding it under the table as she tries to assess her surroundings. The people in the diner now corner the strange man and the diner lady, commanding the woman to come with them with their guns pointed out.

Good God, what is this place? She thought as she cocks her gun.

Just as the two people ran out through the back door, another shot was fired and it was enough reason for her to take the small mob down from behind. Whatever their reasoning is, the people of this town are certainly not the friendliest to tourists.

She runs outside, trying to help the other three people that were being gunned down by a bunch of the town folks. She watches as the biggest man shields the other two. An act that shouldn’t be logically possible.

She tries to help out, shooting the crazy goon with her own gun. It was a no match with the numbers of these lunatics and their AKs compared to her handgun, but it was enough to give a window for the three people to run further away.

One down, another ten appears. The people in this town just so happen to be complete terrorists who shoot on weaponless people, she reckons.

Out of the blue, Five blinks to the road and joins in the shield of the big man. It took her a couple of seconds to believe the sight she just saw— Five appearing out of thin air and hiding under the protection of the big guy who’s bearing all the gunshots fired at them. None of this was making any sense. Not the city, not the people, not the events she’s witnessing. But she didn’t have time for questions, not yet. Her finger pulls on the trigger nonstop, refilling her magazine as soon as she can before more madmen come.

But her hands weren’t fast enough. There was not enough time for her to raise her gun. To point and pull another shot before a couple bullets were aimed at her chest. She was hit. Too many times for her to count as she fell limp to the cold concrete, gasping for air.

“No!” She could hear Five’s echoing scream. In a blink of an eye, he was kneeling by her, lifting her body to be in his embrace. His hand was shaky, trying his best to give some pressure to the holes in her chest as his other arm pulled her close, “I’m here, I’m here.”

No words came out of her lips. Breathing hurts as blood starts to come out of her mouth. Colour was draining from her face, skin turning cold as her ear rings.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Five apologises, his tears flowing down to her face “This wasn’t supposed to happen, I’m sorry.”

“S-Say it,” She whispers, gasping “You promised.”

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” He confesses, cupping her cheek with his bloodied hand “I’m sorry. I love you. I love you so much, I’m so sorry.”

The light in her eyes slowly dims out. Her laboured breathing quiets down as the interval widens before it eventually stops. Her hand that was holding his wrist fell gently, no longer having any care that the shreds of mirror were creating new cuts to it.

“I’m sorry. I love you. I’m so sorry.”

Those three sentences were flowing out of him like a broken record. Five holds her close, planting tear stained kisses to her cheeks as if it would give her another breath of life. He calls for her name like a prayer, begging for her to look at him just once more, but the magnetism that would always fill those orbs were gone. They were staring into the empty space without a blink. Gone were the eyes that would stare into him with so much love and tenderness.

Five looks up to see his siblings. They were looking down with pitiful, sorry eyes. Never had they ever seen the collected brother be this broken, drowning in the anguish of a lost lover.

“It was Dad,” Luther says bearing the bad news “They were all Hargreeves goons.”

Another tear escaped his eyes. Five’s sobs were getting louder, whispering his apologies to her now deaf ears. He was sorry about everything. About asking her to come, about promising to tell her some complete nonsense, about falling in love with her. Even with his powers, Five was utterly helpless. He couldn’t undo what was done— save the life that he’s lost and keep her away from harm. The one thing that matters most to him has finally been ripped off of his hands.

There was a sense of resentment brewing in his heart. He thought that he could not be any more hollow than he already is, but now that she’s dead in his arms, now that the better half of him has disappeared, Five has ultimately become that one broken shell of a man he once thought he was.

If only she was his little girl, he would’ve run away and hide with her.

#five hargreeves #five hargreeves x reader #five hargreeves oneshot #five hargreeves angst #tua #the umbrella academy scenarios #the umbrella academy scenario #the umbrella academy angst

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cheynovak · 1 month ago

Text

Taking it slow

Summary: Follows up fanfiction 'Spikes and the beach city reunion' Y/N and Priestly decided to take it slow on whatever it was they just found with each other. Y/N sees it as a good thing, not knowing it's because Priestly is unsure of the age difference.

English isn't my first language

Please do not copy my work. Likes/Share/Comments are appreciated

Priestly and Y/N spent nearly every evening together after that first kiss. It started with simple hangouts—late-night drives along the coast, sharing fries at the Beach City Grill, or getting lost in old record stores. They’d talk about everything: the wild, rebellious dreams they’d both used to have and how they’d grown since then.

Though neither of them used the word “dating,” it felt like it. Priestly would reach for her hand across the table, his fingers tracing gentle circles on her palm. Y/N would lean into him, feeling a warmth she hadn’t realized she’d missed since her teenage years.

They didn’t need to label it; it was theirs, and that was enough.

But Priestly had asked one thing—to keep things under the radar. At first, Y/N understood, even agreed. It was new, and they wanted to protect this fragile, precious thing they were building.

But as the weeks passed, she began to suspect there was more to his hesitation. She caught Priestly glancing around sometimes, like he was worried someone might be watching.

Little did she know that each time Tish would catch sight of them, she’d smirk, rolling her eyes, mocking Priestly with her devilish little laugh.

One evening during closing, Tish decided to confront Priestly while Y/N wasn’t around.

She leaned against the counter, watching him with a sly smile, eyes glinting with malice. “So, Boaz...” she sneered, crossing her arms, “how’s your little sugar baby doing? Isn’t it a little… inappropriate? Old man like you, running around with a kid?" Dirty old man "

But when he didn't answered her she added. "Chasing after young women… pathetic don't you think?”

Priestly felt a flicker of irritation but kept his voice even. “Not that it's any of your business Platicia. But we’re just taking things slow." He pushed the broom in her hands and left for the back. But not before turning around.

"And Y/N’s not a kid—she’s a grown woman. A beautiful woman who sees more than just the outside. I wish I had that gift, I wouldn't be drawn in by your poison.”

“Oh please,” Tish scoffed, flipping her hair back with a smirk. “You’re just embarrassed to admit it. You know everyone’s going to look at you and think you’re just another washed-up guy trying to relive his youth through some young girl."

"Whatever, Tish, it’s… over. Grow up and let me go.”

Next morning Y/N walked into the Beach City Grill with a spring in her step, she wanted to surprise Priestly since he seemed a bit down yesterday and this morning. Maybe sneak in a kiss before his shift got too busy. But when she leaned in, he turned away, his body stiff, his focus somewhere else.

“Uh, the usual?” he asked, not meeting her eyes.

Y/N felt her stomach sink. “Uh… yeah,” she replied, trying to keep her voice casual, but confusion seeped in. She watched him for a moment, waiting for the easy smile he usually had for her, the little spark in his eye when he saw her.

But today… there was none of that. Instead, he busied himself behind the counter, his attention fixed on everything except her.

Piper, working the front with him, glanced between them, noticing the strange tension. “You can take a seat, Y/N. I’ll bring the order when it’s ready,” she offered, her voice softer, like she sensed something was off.

“Oh… okay.” Y/N forced a small smile, nodding as she walked over to a booth in the corner. She tried to shake off the weird feeling that settled over her, tried to remind herself that maybe he was just having an off day.

Everyone had those, right?

But as she sat there, watching Priestly avoid her gaze, that sense of unease only grew. Every now and then, he’d glance her way, but his eyes would quickly dart away, his jaw tight. She could feel the space between them widening, and her mind spun, wondering if she’d done something wrong or if he was upset about something else.

When Piper finally brought her food over, she slid into the booth across from Y/N, a sympathetic look in her eyes. “Hey, everything okay with you two?” she asked gently, her voice low.

Y/N forced a small smile, but it faltered as she glanced over at Priestly, who was busying himself by cleaning the counter for the third time. “I… I’m not sure,” she admitted, her voice barely a whisper. “He’s acting really strange. He won't even look at me.”

Piper nodded thoughtfully, glancing back at Priestly as well. “He’s been off all day, honestly. Maybe he’s just… I don’t know, going through something? Give him a bit of space. I’m sure he’ll talk to you when he’s ready.”

Y/N nodded, forcing herself to take a deep breath. Piper’s words gave her a bit of comfort, but it didn’t completely erase the ache building in her chest. She wanted to believe that Priestly was just having a rough day, but there was a tiny voice in her mind whispering doubts she didn’t want to acknowledge.

Y/N approached the counter, the uncomfortable feeling from earlier still lingering as she reached for her money. Priestly rang up her order without looking at her, his fingers drumming a quiet rhythm on the register as she handed over a few bills.

“So… tonight’s still happening, right?” she asked, keeping her voice casual but feeling a flutter of nerves. They’d planned a movie night at her place, and Y/N had been secretly hoping that he might finally stay the night.

Priestly glanced up, a quick flicker of something unreadable in his eyes, but he nodded, answering a little too quickly. “Yeah, sure,” he muttered, avoiding her gaze.

“Okay…” She gave him a small smile, though her heart still felt heavy as she turned to leave.

Later that night, when Priestly finally arrived at her place, it was like a switch had flipped. Whatever strange wall had been between them seemed to have melted away, and he was laughing, teasing her, the easygoing Priestly she’d fallen for all over again.

They settled in for the movie, curled up close on her couch, and for the first time that day, Y/N felt like she could finally relax.

As the movie played, she let her fingers trail down his arm, then his thigh, the warmth of him beneath her hand sparking something thrilling inside her.

She leaned over, pressing her lips to his neck, tasting the faint salt of his skin. His breath hitched, but just as she leaned in to kiss him again, she felt him tense.

“Y/N,” he murmured, his voice uncertain. “Do you… do you ever think of me as… you know, an old, dirty man?”

She pulled back, blinking in shock. “What? Why would you even say that?”

Priestly looked down, his fingers fidgeting as he hesitated. “Tish… she kind of planted the idea in my head. Said I was some washed-up guy chasing after a young girl. Said I was—”

“Stop.” She cut him off, her voice firm.

Without hesitation, she shifted, swinging a leg over his lap and straddling him, taking his face gently in her hands so he had no choice but to look her in the eyes. “Priestly, you are nothing like that,” she said, her gaze intense, leaving no room for doubt. “You’re kind, and thoughtful, and so damn good to me. I don’t care what anyone else says.”

He swallowed, searching her face, vulnerability flashing in his eyes. “I just… I don’t want you to regret being with me. I don’t want to hold you back.”

Y/N leaned in, her lips hovering just inches from his as she whispered, “You are helping me grow, see how a real relationship works." His eyes grew wide with that word: relationship.

"I don’t want anyone else, Priestly. I want you,” She pressed a kiss to his forehead, then to his lips, soft and lingering, before pulling back just enough to look him in the eyes. “Every part of you.”

He let out a slow breath, his shoulders finally relaxing as his hands settled on her waist, pulling her closer. A faint smile curved his lips as he rested his forehead against hers. “You’re sure?” he asked, still needing just a little more reassurance.

She nodded, running her fingers through his hair, tracing the line of his jaw. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

With that, Priestly closed the distance between them, his lips meeting hers in a kiss that was tender and full of all the things they’d both been holding back.

As Y/N’s fingers tangled in Priestly's hair, her lips parted as she gasped softly, feeling the heat building between them. Every kiss, every brush of his hands against her skin only made her want more. She could feel the intensity in his gaze, how he looked at her, checking in with her every step of the way, his thumb brushing along her cheek in a tender gesture that sent her heart racing.

Their eyes met, and she gave him a slight nod, her silent way of telling him she didn’t want him to stop. With a gentle but steady touch, he guided her back onto the couch, his hands sliding to her waist, his thumbs grazing her hips, making her shiver. She felt the warmth of his breath against her neck as he leaned down, his lips trailing along her collarbone, leaving a path of warmth in their wake.

Y/N’s hands found their way under his shirt, fingers gliding over the warm skin of his back, feeling the strength there as he hovered over her.

She let out a soft moan as his lips moved down over her shoulder to het stomach, and she tilted her head back, eyes half-lidded as she gave herself over to the moment, to him. The world outside faded, leaving just the two of them, wrapped up in each other’s warmth and intensity.

Priestly’s hands moved gently, fingers tracing along her sides as he slowly slid her clothes off, revealing her delicate black lace lingerie. He paused, eyes full of warmth and admiration as he took her in, his gaze lingering just long enough to make her feel both seen and desired.

He let his fingers brush over her bare skin, each touch making her breath hitch as he leaned down, taking his time. She arched toward him, pressing herself closer, seeking the warmth of his touch, the comfort of his presence.

The sight of this sexy man between her thighs made her moan even more. he looked up once more. "Absolutely sure you want me? Because once I have you I won'..."

"Please!" she urged him on. He smiled and dipped his head lower.

**The Next Morning**

Priestly slowly woke up, his senses overwhelmed by the warmth of the morning light and the softness of her body pressed against him.

He felt Y/N’s bare skin against his, her soft breath a sweet whisper in the quiet of the room. He had so many doubts and fear last night, but it didn’t matter now. All that mattered was the gentle rise and fall of her chest beneath his hand, the delicate scent of her hair that lingered on his pillow.

His face was nestled against the nape of her neck, and it felt like the most natural place to be. His lips, still half-dazed from sleep, traced a gentle path down her neck and across her shoulder.

He felt her stir, a soft hum vibrating through her, making his heart race. She was waking up, but she didn’t seem to mind his attention. She shifted, her body turning toward him with a sleepy smile, meeting his gaze with those tired, yet sparkling eyes.

“Good morning, beautiful,” Priestly whispered, his voice rough with the remnants of sleep. She smiled softly, her lips meeting his in a kiss that was tender and slow.

“How do you feel?” he asked shyly, the words leaving him almost as a breathless question. He needed to know if last night had been as perfect for her as it had been for him.

“Like I'm on cloud nine,” she smiled, her eyes glowing as she kissed him again, this time with a little more urgency. Priestly looked at her, still unsure. His insecurities creeping in despite the warmth of her embrace. “Really?”

She raised an eyebrow, pushing herself up on her elbows, Priestly turned on his back. She crawled over him to look him in the eyes. “Really.” She paused, searching his expression for any trace of doubt.

“Did I... you know... was it OK?” Priestly still wasn't sure. Being with Tish had made him so unsure about himsel.

Y/N’s lips curled into a gentle smile. “OK?” She giggled softly, lifting her head slightly to get a better look at him. “Priestly… it was perfect.”

His brow furrowed, and he searched her face for any hint of hesitation. “You’re not just saying that, are you?”

In response, she shifted, straddling him, her body now pressed flush against his, and for a moment, everything else faded. She could feel the tension in him, the way his breath hitched when their bodies aligned. Her eyes darkened with a hunger he couldn’t ignore, and the intimate silence spoke louder than words ever could.

“Babe…” she sighed softly, her lips trailing down his chest before she looked up again, meeting his eyes with a playful glint.

“I can’t get enough of you.” She kissed him deep, slow, with all the passion that was building between them. Her body moved against him, and he groaned softly, unable to resist her pull.

Priestly's heart pounded as his hands found their place against her skin, feeling the heat between them grow. His doubts melted away in the heat of her kiss, in the soft caress of her hands against him.

She was everything he had dreamed of in a woman, and now, she was here, with him.

"You're everything to me, Y/N," he whispered against her lips, as if the words were a confession, a promise. She smiled against his kiss, her lips never leaving his. "And you're exactly what I need."

Taglist -> Click here to add

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@suckitands33 @mostlymarvelgirl @deans-baby-momma

@ancles @tulipsvanilla @thesilmarillionblog

@jays-bonnie-on-the-side @kr804573 @kamisobsessed @hobby27

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@impala67rollingthroughtown @panickedbitch @deansimpalababy

@livya99 @yvonneeeee @ladykitana90 @stoneyggirl2

@imsiriuslyreal @panickedbitch

#jensen ackles #fanfic #x reader #jensen fucking ackles #fluff #priestly x reader #boaz priestly #boaz

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dandelionpixels · 7 months ago

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the doctor (9/10/11) + reader

(platonic/familial)

ask: Doctor x daughter reader? Where reader already knows most of what's going to happen because she's from 11 and Rivers time but through timey wimey stuff ends up traveling with 9 and rose and eventually 10? This might be too specific but the way I have it in my head is she ended up being a partner in crime with Jack and so the first time they meet she's with him and the doctor is like “Who are you?!” and she's all “Spoilers!........ I've always wanted to say that!”

You’ve been running since you were born. A breathing enigma, that’s what they called you. There’s no point in explaining how, or even why. It’s really no fun to have an answer anyway.

Honestly the only thing that’s important is that, much like River, you’re living your life in the wrong order, jumping around without rhyme or reason. You don’t mind, it keeps things exciting. It’d been a while of traveling with Eleven and the Ponds, so you figured you were due for another temporal displacement. But you just didn’t think it’d be so far back.

You’d always found Jack interesting, no matter how much each Doctor warned you to be careful. And he’s always out there, no matter the time period, which works perfectly for you. So you track him down again, preparing an introduction, knowing he certainly hasn’t met you yet.

It ends up being unnecessary, since when you find him, he’s too busy dodging laser-fire to listen to your story. In fact, he immediately promises to pay you handsomely if you pretend to be a hostage. And he seems pleasantly surprised when you take little-to-no convincing, ruffling your hair and dashing across the bridge with you, gun to your back. By the time you guys make it across the border safely, he’s offering a partnership, grin plastered on his face. With a matching smile, you agree, excited to continue your streak of befriending Jack in any time.

This arrangement leads you to run into the Doctor, as traveling with Jack always seems to do.

Meeting Nine

The first time you properly see Nine, your mouth fully drops open.

You’d known him through pictures, shared memories, stories, but never in person. He’s real, and new, and standing right in front of you. Jack offers him a mock salute, glancing back to see you still standing in silence. Before you can stop yourself, your mouth starts to form a sentence, the first thing you could think of to say.

“Your ears are proper huge!”

Rose has to grab his arm to keep him from lunging towards you, planting her feet to yank him back. He stumbles slightly but lets her keep him in place, angrily fixing his coat collar, “And who would you be then?”

Jack chuckles, arms crossed while he lets you talk. A giddy grin spreads across your face, eyes lighting up with genuine excitement as you shoot him a playful wink, “Can’t say! Spoilers!”

You try and fail to stifle your smile, looking between the others, “I’ve always wanted to say that.”

Nine just throws his arms up in the air, “Great, wonderful, fantastic. Spoilers, what is that supposed to mean?”

After thinking about it more, he pivots his body to direct the question towards Jack. Resting his hands on his hips, he taps his foot impatiently, and you can’t help but think he looks like a disgruntled mother.

Jack shrugs, “She’s my partner.”

Over Nine’s shoulder, you see Rose make a gagging expression. You shake your head frantically, “Not- no- just partners! No- erm- skadoodling.”

This time it’s Jack turn to gag, as he mouths ‘skadoodle?’ to you. You shrug, and Jack rolls his eyes, “It’s true. Just partners, none of- what she said.” He pauses before continuing, “Despite my best efforts.”

Shoving him him pointedly, you look back towards Nine’s irritated expression, “I’m a friend of the Doctors, and that’s all I can say. Jack can swear that I’m not a spy, or whatever.”

You shoot a sharp look in Jack’s direction and he makes a cross over his heart, “Hope to die.”

Nine groans, “Can nothing ever be easy with me? Does everything have to be so convoluted.”

Rose rolls her eyes, “Tell me about it.”

She looks towards you, recognizing something in your eyes. The same thing she sees in the Doctor’s. Shake shakes it off, just excited about the prospect of having another girl in the Tardis to talk too. Before Nine can cut in, she steps forward, “Jack’s word is good enough for me! We’re about to see the emerald fields, do you wanna come?”

Your face splits into a bright smile, “Do I? I have like three hats from the gift shop!”

Before Nine’s dumbfounded face can come up with more questions, you grab Jack’s hand and pull him inside the Tardis. Looking back as he runs inside, Jack grins towards Nine, “Sorry Doc, looks like the ladies are making the calls!”

Nine follows the both of you inside, dragging Rose behind him and pointing accusatory at you, “Now I’m not sure what kind of small-ear agenda you’re spouting, but I won’t have it in my Tardis. And keep your odd amount of space-time trivia to yourself!”

You nod, giving him a mock salute and giggling as he pinches the bridge of his nose with a soft groan.

Misc. Traveling With Nine

- It’s a lot of him insisting you don’t know something, and you insisting that you do. It typically ends up with Rose and Jack placing money on it. Which Nine shortly banned because they kept only betting on you.

- You keep intentionally hitting buttons on the console and then pretending to be surprised when they work. It cracks Rose up and makes Nine crazy when you ‘bump into’ the landing stabilizers every time they touch down somewhere.

- Rose almost falls to the floor laughing when Jack makes a joke about you and Nine kissing and you make such a disgusted face that Nine almost looks like his feelings were hurt.

- Sometimes you and Jack disappear for a couple days to do something on your own, and every time you come back, Nine pretends like he wasn’t worried. Rose always rolls her eyes behind him, letting you know he’s bluffing. He spends most of the time you’re gone pacing around and complaining about you not calling to let him know you’d be gone.

- Whenever you get a chance to say spoilers, you take it. Nine always find it unreliably infuriating but he eventually stops pressing you for more information.

- He leaves the Tardis one day in ’normal clothes’ to try and go undercover somewhere. When he comes back, you and Rose are taking turns wearing his coat and doing arguably awful impressions of him. Jack is sitting in the chair, grabbing his stomach as he guffaws loudly.

It feels like you’re just getting comfortable when Nine’s time comes to an end, and the regeneration process begins.

You and Rose huddle together, covering each other’s eyes while the glowing light fills the Tardis. You can’t help the tears running down your cheek, even though you already knew this would happen. It doesn’t stop the feelings.

Both of you wait in Jackie’s room as he sleeps, and you can’t properly explain to them why you’re not as worried as everyone else.

When he slowly but surely gets back into the swing of things, you can feel yourself filling with new excitement. It’s another Doctor, whom you’ve never met. Like an second family reunion where only ones of you knows that you’re family.

Misc. Traveling With Ten

- There’s more emotional moments with him, where you almost get hurt and he goes a little crazy trying to make sure you’re safe. It gets to the point where you have to pull him aside, promising that you can handle yourself. He insists he knows that, but it doesn’t stop him from putting himself between you and danger at every opportunity.

- On the rooftop of some scummy restaurant in future Montana, he admits that he trusts you implicitly. He says he can’t understand why, but you feel close to his soul in a way he doesn’t understand. It makes your heart pang to not be able to tell him that you feel the same way.

- You’re there for him when Rose leaves, to sit with him in the silence, and to scream into the canyons on deserted planets. You’re there for Donna, then Martha, then Donna again. You get along with all of them and it always makes you sad to know how things pan out, but you try to just enjoy your time with them.

- There’s somehow even more running than before, and it feels like he’s always grabbing your hand to pull you towards various adventures.

- The both of you get really competitive, always racing to outdo each other’s dramatic conclusion, and forgetting there’s other people around.

- He makes a huge deal out of your birthday, despite them being more a suggestion for Timelords. He takes you to Paris (367 years in the future) for breakfast, back in time for a front-row concert from your favorite musician, and then to 8 different planets for a multiple course dinner and desert.

When you both run into River in the library, you can’t help but let out a soft gasp. River locks eyes with you and in an instant, you know she knows you. Running into her arms, she just laughs and spins you slightly, thanking the universe for aligning you guys so perfectly.

Ten almost genuinely stomps his feet, infuriated, “You have got to be kidding me! How do you two know each other?”

You shoot a playful smile to River, and the both of you turn to face him at the same time, exclaiming a chastising, “Spoilers!”

#x reader #x reader requests #tenth doctor #ninth doctor #eleventh doctor #river song #tenth doctor x reader #ninth doctor x reader #river song x reader #doctor who #dr who #dandelionwritesdrwho #doctor who hcs #daughter!reader

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wannaeatramyeon · 1 year ago

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Hello it's the vegetable fic person here and- and- if you want could you write something about lookism guys finding out that their s/o is skipping their meals due to busy schedules or whatever 😭

Literally do not know why my asks revolve around food. I'd like if you include gun and jake but I literally leave it upto you love u

Hey vegetable anon! FINALLY getting round to this! Sorry for the wait!

Lookism x Reader: You, too busy to eat

G/N. No TW. Gun, Jakey, Goo, Sammy

Your boyfriend is concerned.

Skipping the odd meal, forgetting to eat, day dictated by a busy schedule - they get it. Except they have noticed this developing into a bit of an ongoing habit, one that is unwelcome and they wouldn't like to encourage.

They've also taken note of the way your clothes hang a bit looser, your cheeks looking a little sunken, and the dullness in your eyes.

They'll have to take matters into their own hands.

Gun Park

Gun learns a lot of new things, a lot about himself with you.

He never used to care about other people, least of all their diet.

After all, why should he? Even when his duties include being Crystal's bodyguard, what she got up to is none of his concern as long as she was safe.

However, with you, that's a whole other story. Whenever you're feeling sad, down, out of sorts. Gun feels a prickle of unease, affecting him until he finds out how to make you smile again.

And when your smile does come out, directed at him, because of him, he can barely describe it. Something not even the thrill of a fight can touch. Like being bathed in sunlight, directly touched by the sun's caress.

His sentimentality is something new he discovered too.

Gun peers down at the food order in his hand as he strides towards your home. All your favourite dishes from your favourite restaurant.

He's not sure he completely likes his softness with you, but as long as you do, he can't bring himself to mind.

Jake Kim

It starts with pursed lips and worried eyes, Jake's hands roving over your body.

Of course he thinks you're beautiful and as long as you're healthy and happy, it doesn't matter.

The worry is that you're not healthy and happy, that you're not eating out of stress. That whenever Jake has the time to cook for you, you will demolish every crumb in sight.

It's all the other times when he's too busy.

The solution, devised by Jake, is a revolving door of Big Deal members at your front step. At regular intervals with your favourite snacks or breakfast, lunch, dinner whenever your boyfriend can't make it.

"Morning, Y/N. Boss says hi!" Jason hands over a small container of food.

"Favourite snacks for boss's favourite," Brad grins at you.

"Jake says he'll see you tonight," Jerry averts your eyes, cheeks dusting with pink at the implication.

"Boss says," Lineman grimaces, staring to the heavens and wondering why this is now his life, "he loves you and to eat well. Rest well."

After a pause-

"Jason," Lua chides, barely able to keep the smirk off her face, "What else?"

Lineman flushes crimson, hand clenched white knuckled around your food," If you don't then... he said he'll make sure to...," Seriously. Fuck his life. "-punish you."

Goo Kim

"Say ahh!" Your boyfriend holds the spoonful of rice up to your lips. How on earth he has even made a game of this you don't know.

You keep your eye on him but turn your head away. "Goo."

"C'mon, do it for your Goo Bear."

"..."

He's not grinning. Not his usual slimey smile, not even his soft lift of the lips for you.

He's also not affecting his faux pout. Where he juts out his bottom lip and pleads with large eyes.

That unfortunately for you, he quickly learned that he will get his way 99% of the time.

Instead all you get are brows furrowed with worry and an expression that's trying to be joyful but doesn't fully mask the apprehension.

It's jarring whenever you get a glimpse of Goo's genuine concern, and touching too. Your boyfriend must really be worried about you to put up this whole charade.

Fine. You give in.

Opening your mouth just wide enough, "Ah-"

Goo breathes a sigh of relief, "There we go!"

Samuel Seo

The alarm on his phone vibrates.

Samuel excuses himself from the meeting, ignoring the disapproval radiating from Eugene. It doesn't matter. Some things are more important.

You pick up only after a couple of rings.

"Hey Sammy," A nickname that he at first hated but absolutely loves now. How could he not when you say it with such affection?

"Y/N," and even saying your name relieves some of his stress of the day, "Did you remember to eat dinner?"

"Yep!"

Samuel hears the smile in your voice. You're never annoyed with his calls, with him asking the same questions. You understand it only comes from a place of concern, a place of love. The way he calls you, like clockwork, despite his hectic schedule makes your heart hurt.

"I made some extra for you too!"

Samuel peers through the boardroom window. The figureheads sitting there, discussing something or another. He used to relish being a part of this, dream about one day ruling over it all.

Yet now, all he can think about is wanting to be with you.

He responds simply and honestly, "I can't wait to see you tonight."

#lookism #lookism x reader #lookism webtoon #lookism manhwa #lookism fic #gun park #gun park x reader #jake kim #jake kim x reader #goo kim #goo kim x reader #samuel seo #samuel seo x reader #wannaeatramyeon

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bubuslutty · 1 year ago

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Omg single dad Price?? Cliche as hell but hits all the right spots when ovulating hahah

omd thank you so much for this ask anon!

I've had so much writing abt single dad price! I hope I delivered 💙

cod mw2 masterlist

word count: 2.1k

tags: fem!reader, she/her, no descriptions of physical appearance, poc friendly, sfw

warning: none.

a/n: I wrote this on my periods and by God do I want this man so horribly bad. my mind is infested with filth when I think abt him but I also want to write fluffy things for him :((

okay so single dad price au

first of all, in my head, for some unknown reason, he'd have 2 boys, maybe twins and 1 little girl, the youngest. I see them as all being under 10 years old.

maybe you first met through one of his friends, Johnny maybe, who decided to invite you to travel down to Price's place all the way from Glasgow for some sightseeing and touristy stuff, or going to a festival or going to a show to see one of your favorite bands.

You knew Price, heard of him a couple of times but never met him face to face. and lo and behold when you do, your heart does a little flip and a giggle comes out of your mouth when he introduces himself and sticks his hand out, smiling down at you.

I SORRY BUT I'M WHIPPED FOR THIS MAN-

luckily he doesn't mind the giggle and his smile just becomes even bigger, because it's evident you're happy to be there, happy to meet him. and if Johnny likes you, Price is bound to like you as well.

And he does like you, easily swapping jokes and laughing together with Johnny. He gets comfortable pretty quickly with you, he leans forward and nods to whatever you say, seemingly captivated by your whole aura. After a whole pint of beer, he unbuttons two more buttons of his short-sleeved shirt. It was already hot outside, so maybe he wanted to cool down but his eyes say otherwise.

John is fucking massive, that you can tell by his body, even tho Johnny tells you he's a busy dad of 3 children, he somehow still manages to still go to the gym. He has both muscles with a healthy layer of fat on them, and you can appreciate a big man with a soft tummy but with the strength of a bull.

You've seen pictures of John before, shown to you by Johnny on multiple occasions. And his back still haunts your dreams. In a good way. He had such a huge back that you wanted to just climb it and cling to it.

And that man had huge arms and veiny hands with blond hairs on them, and a nice full beard on his face and fluffy hair with the warmest eyes you've seen. And the absolute unit of shoulders to waist ratio ever. And to top it off that man has WICKED hips, thighs and ass.

He mentions his kids once or twice over some drinks and yorkshire pudding burritos. And you sit up, interested and curious. You ask about their ages, names and because he's such a dad, he obviously has to show you his wallpaper of his boys and girl.

You lean closer to look at them, and they're so cute, with blond hair just like him, his boys have brown eyes while his little girl has blue ones. And they're genuinely adorable that you Aww at every picture he shows you.

This leads to Johnny telling you anecdotes from when they were little, like nappies little, and how one of his sons peed on him in the middle of changing his nappies once.

It's all fun and games until Johnny frowns down at his phone when he receives a message and he excuses himself, telling you and John how he has a thing to take care of, so he's leaving you two together to have some fun, and for John to take advantage of his child-free time.

Johnny leaves after giving you a tight hug and a wink, walking out of the nice pub John frequents.

"So… What's your favourite colour?" You asked, biting your lower lip and staring at John through your eyelashes.

And he seemed taken back by your question, "My favourite colour?"

"Yeah," You nodded, feeling a bit anxious for asking such a silly question, but you really wanted to get to know him, starting by asking him innocent questions and analyzing his reactions to them.

"Blue. What about you?" He answered with a shrug and a small smile.

"Me too! It's also my favourite colour!" You gasped, excited.

John chuckled at your excitement, taking a swing of his beer while you toyed with your phone like a fidget toy.

"I don't remember anyone ever asking me about my favourite colour, except my kids of course, and that one face paint artist at school fairs." John said and you giggled again.

"What did you get painted on?" You asked, grinning from ear to ear.

"Sonic the hedgehog." He sighed and you started laughing, eyes watering and shoulders shaking, even snorting once and slapping a hand to your mouth, eyes wide and cheeks hot.

John doesn't think twice before prying your hand away from your face, "Don't. A snort isn't going to chase me away."

"And uhm, I know why we're here, really here. Johnny isn't as subtle as he thinks he is." John confessed and looked away from your face, as if embarrassed.

"It's alright if you don't want to get together or anything, we could forget this ever happened, John." You said, placing a hand on top of his and leaning closer to look at his face better.

He looked at you as soon as those words left your mouth, "I didn't say anything about not wanting to get together-"

"Really?"

John sighed and grabbed and squeezed your hand, running his other hand through his beard, "Listen, you're absolutely lovely, charming and as beautiful as Johnny claims you to be. I do want to get to know you better, It's just– I'm not really someone you easily date."

You smiled, "You're a package deal."

"Excuse me?"

"Buy one, get three free." You said, watching the absolute giant of man look at you all worried as if there was something wrong with him.

John was stunned, looking at you as if you grew an extra head.

"What? You thought I'd agree to meet and flirt with you, knowing I won't get with a single parent?" You said, scooting closer to him, resting your chin on your palm and looking at him through your pretty eyelashes.

"I don't know if this is of any help, but I'm the oldest of 4 children, and my youngest sibling is 15 years younger than me. So little kids don't scare me, trust me." You said, puffing your chest as if you were a decorated soldier with veteran experience in taking care of little shits.

John cracked a small smile, "I'm sure you're a great older sister."

"I try my best." You humbly said, bowing your head and John chuckled again.

"So, how about we go for a walk and you can tell me all about your workout routine, you can't be the only one looking like a much hotter version of Superman." You said and John all but agreed.

And you do go for a walk, and chat about everything and anything. and you have so much fun that John forgets what time it is for a bit and gets surprised when his alarm rings and he has to go pick up his kids from school.

You say bye to each other and he says how he's going to invite you and Johnny over for a hangout with his other guys back at his place.

So you do go, you keep meeting him, and you eventually meet his kids, and they're lovely, polite and wary of you at first, because they're still very young and are children to parents who don't like or love each other like most parents do.

So you try your best to approach them in the best way possible, and decide to tell them nothing but the truth and talk to them like you'd talk to adults.

So when you start seeing their dad, he tells them one night over dinner, just the, and you also confirm it to them when you get invited over, "I like your father.

And his boys look up from their legos and his little girl stops flying a dinosaur in the air right before she crashes it on a city made out of blocks and barbie dolls.

"We know." The twins say at the same time and they shrug, resuming their play.

"Dinosaur?" The little girl hands you another dinosaur, and you nod, and take it from her little hand.

"Dinosaur." You repeat and you watch her dive the dinosaur's head to a barbie's head and act like he was eating the barbie, so you did the same thing, with added sound effects.

You don't expect the children to call you mum, you aren't overly friendly with them or force your friendship on them. You give them space, time and respect. And John seems to be incredibly grateful for it, even if he doesn't comment on it, but his eyes and smiles say enough.

Things slowly evolve, and the children start asking for you when you're not around.

"Dad, where's your friend?" One of his boys asked him on the way to get ice cream after school.

"You mean dad's girlfriend." The other twin corrects his brother.

"Are you boyfriend girlfriend?" His little girl asks.

"She's busy with work at the moment, and we're not dating, not yet, at least." John says.

"Not yet?"

"Why?"

"But we saw you kiss in the kitchen!"

"Please be boyfriend girlfriend! She's nice and she's better at helping us with homework than you!"

So John is now stuck in his car, being roasted by his children on their way to get ice-cream, and he shuts them up when he tells them they won't officially date until all of them like you.

Which they obviously already do and they agree very quickly.

So Price takes you out on a date, to officially ask you out, with his children as some sort of witnesses and official welcome to their family.

They're in a nice italian restaurant, nothing too fancy, and he's wearing a light blue button up with a pair of slacks that do more than justice to his legs and hips. And he looks so so nice, hair brushed back and beard trimmed and oiled up, and he has a watch on his wrist and a bracelet his little girl made him on the other hand.

His little boys are wearing button up shirts in different colours and slacks, and his little girl is wearing a blue dress with a dinosaur pin on her hair, keeping her curls away from her face. And as soon as you show up, her face lights up and she excitedly shows you her dress, spinning around, and telling you that's "It's blue! Like your favourite colour! Like dad's favourite colour!" And she also shows you the dinosaur hairpin and you all but melt and tell her how pretty she looks, and how handsome his boys look.

"You also look very handsome." You smile at John and he blushes a bit, taking your hands in his while his children watch with wide curious eyes.

"And you look very beautiful, darling." He says and you bat your eyelashes at him, "Thank you."

He kisses the back of your hands and he pulls your chair out for you to sit, and you grin and sit down. And then the children all start talking at the same time, about what they'd like to order and what you should try and what they think you'd like, so obviously they have been here before and it's a family favourite.

John tells his little gremlins to calm down and you guys start by ordering drinks and some breadsticks, then he actually has a whole speech prepared about how he's been very happy with you and would love for you to officially join their family.

And while he's saying his speech, his eyes never leaving yours, you don't notice one of his boys holding a small piece of paper under the table and nodding along to his dad's words, and the other twin holding a up thumbs up to show that John is saying everything he's written down.

While John’s little girl somehow pulled a small dinosaur toy out of nowhere and is making it sit on the table and watch you both.

"I'd love to be your girlfriend, and join your family, John." You say when John's done and his children all cheer at the same time, making some people from other tables glance at you.

"Congratulations." The twins say at the time, shaking your hand and their father's in quite a formal manner, making you giggle, "Thank you, gentlemen."

"Can we eat now?" John's little girl asks, and nobody asks why she had shoved tissue inside her dinosaur's mouth, probably mimicking feeding it.

John laughs and nods, "Yes, we can."

tag list (pls ask to be added or removed): @obiwankenobis-lap @goapgrim @smalldemonlover @silviafantin15 @reveluving @bobastayhigh @originalsimp @h-leigh @gxldyjess @msdrpreist @chaoticevilbakugo @Lacunaanonymoused @whore4dilfs

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ficsofabotchedmind · 1 year ago

Text

For better or worse? Time will tell.

Summary? None.

Once again, thank you @cissyenthusiast010155 ! If it wasn't for you I'd be fucked (in the bad way). 🥹

Warnings? Yes; NSFW, 18+, smut, oral sex, slight, if any at all, Angst.

———————————————————————————

Larissa sat in her chair by the fire thinking of what had transpired earlier in the day. Did she really think that letting the offspring of Morticia and Gomez Addams into Nevermore was a good idea? No.

Did she think that pairing her with Enid Sinclair was a good idea? Yes.

The girls reminded Larissa much of herself and Morticia back in the day. Enid was like Morticia personality wise, bubbly & friendly. Wednesday reminded Larissa of herself, standoffish & firm.

Larissa couldn't help but pray that whatever she had just allowed to happen wouldn't come back a bite her in the ass.

She snorted to herself at the thought, she knew damn well it would come back and bite her. It always would dealing with someone who is part Frump. Now don't get her wrong, she has no issue with Wednesday, just one with her mother.

Larissa let out a heavy sigh, took a long swallow of her wine and started thinking back to when her and Morticia were still students in Nevermore.

Nevermore, 1990

"Morticia, you can't just go around doing that!" Larissa exclaimed through giggles

Morticia, quite busy with her head in Larissas neck, didn't care at the moment. She just enjoyed the sounds she was pulling from her leggy, blonde girlfriend.

"Morticia, I'm serious! Enough!" Larissa hissed out, "I think I hear someone coming."

Morticia let out a quiet snicker but thought better of saying what she wanted to say, "Yes, mon amour, whatever your heart desires."

Larissa thought for a second and grumbled, "My heart desires for us to have a moments peace." she thought a bit more a smirked, "And so does my body."

"Oh you flirt! You can't expect me not to do anything after you say something like that." Morticia exclaimed through a pout

Larissa let out a giggle and opened her mouth but before she could say anything further she was proven right, and next thing she knew Gomez popped around the corner.

Larissa, while not a werewolf, let out the most impressive growl anyone has ever heard.

Upon hearing the sound emerge from her girlfriend Morticia shivered in excitement but from what she could tell out of the corner of her eye, Gomez did the exact opposite.

Larissa, upon her realization that she scared the boy damn near out of his wits, smirked.

"How can we help you, Gomez?" asked Larissa through gritted teeth and a fake smile.

Gomez, now nervous, let out a shaky laugh, "I was just wondering if I could speak with, Tish?"

Larissas teeth ground together upon hearing the nickname the Addams boy gave Morticia.

"Tish?" Larissa asked

"Y-yes? Oh! Um, I meant Morticia!" stuttered Gomez nervously

Morticia noticing that her normally loving and kind girlfriend seemed to want to snap Gomez's neck at any moment accepted the offer to speak with him, "I'll be right with you, Gomez. Now run along."

As Gomez rounded the door out of earshot Larissa hissed, "Are you fucking joking, Morticia? That boy has had his eyes on you ever since he's arrived! Are you sure you wish to speak with him,-" Larissa had to take a deep breath before she spat out, "-privately?"

Morticia sighed, she knew of Gomez's feelings but was not in the mood to entertain them today. She gently approached Larissa, who had moved across the room while in a huff, cupped her cheeks, stood on her toes and pressed a gentle, loving kiss to Larissas lips.

"My darling shifter, I will not fall for his little attempts. He can wish all he wants,-" Morticias smile grew more provocative, catching her bottom lip between her teeth, let her hands wonder, "-but he will NOT be getting anything from me." and with that Morticia drew Larissa in for a long, deep kiss.

Once pulling away, Larissa seemed in a daze at first but slowly snapping out of it, she muttered to Morticia, "Ok, I trust you. I just don't trust him."

Morticia, with a wicked gleam and an evil smirk, "I know, ma chérie but he will lay no hand on me for if he does, I'll cut his dick off with that lovely sword mounted in the hall."

At that being said Morticia turned and walked off, throwing one last look of one can only describe as pure sex towards the blonde.

Larissa shivered in arousal, "That woman will be the death of me."

2 hours later

"Hello, my love!" Morticia giggled out as she entered their shared dorm, "What are you up too?"

"I am trying to figure out how this stupid fucking essay is going to work!" Larissa was far beyond frustrated with this essay and Morticia could see that if she didn't distract her girlfriend now, there would be trouble in the very near future.

Morticia thought about what was interrupted earlier and smirked, "Oh darling! W-"

Larissa interrupted before Morticia even got to speak, "Not now, Mo. This has to be finished by next week."

Morticia cocked a brow, she could not bel-well yes, she could. So she just had to get more creative and so she removed her school uniform and stood directly in front of Larissa.

Larissa caught sight of bare skin in front of her a furrowed her eyebrows and slowly looked up and what traveled through her mind, "Oh good God. Her legs, n-no underwear. Oh dear God she hasn't worn underwear all fucking day! God her stomach looks biteable, damn fucking bra in the way. Oh of course she's smug, I'm fucking drooling."

"Have you decided on what or who you'd rather do, my stately Sequoia?" Morticia asked with a dirty smirk firmly in place

"Yes! God yes!" Larissa got out as she shoved her books off of the bed and stumbled to get up.

Morticia giggled at Larissa and her excitement of finally getting what she was robbed of a little over 2 hours earlier.

"Be careful, we don't want you to hurt anything, my darling." Morticia got out through a fit of giggles

And once Larissa had finally gotten herself and her bed right and ready, "Alright, all done! No more schoolwork or anything like it, promise!"

Morticia smirked and unhooked her bra and let it fall, "Good, now where were we?"

And all during the night you would have thought that neither girl was human with the sounds they each were making. Luckily the dove had out a spell on the room after formulating her little plan.

Present day, 2022

Larissa drained the last bit of the bottle of wine and sighed, "So much for not falling for his tricks, eh Morticia..."

"I didn't fall for them completely, my love." upon hearing that she whirled around and spotted Morticia.

"What are doing here this, Mrs. Addams?" Larissa gritted out

Morticia expecting the hostility in her tone, made sure to keep hers calm, "I was hoping to speak with you, Larissa."

"What about? It's too late in the day to want to talk about your daughter and her academics. So what do you want?" hissed an angry Larissa

"I want to talk about us, my darling. And before you say anything, I have had a talk with Gomez! We have agreed that as long as the other person is happy then they may see other people." Morticia said, worrying at her nails

Larissa, not believing a single word at first, looked down. Morticia was ruining her nails, something she never did unless she was truly nervous.

"It will take some time for me to truly believe you, Morticia." Larissa spoke cautiously

Morticia smiled up on hearing her name being said without anger and bitterness behind it, "Yes! Sorry, yes I can accept that."

"Good, now if you'd please leave. We can talk more tomorrow" Larissa said, desperately needing Morticia to leave so she can retreat back to her room to handle the wet problem they both caused.

Making sure to keep her legs as close as possible when she walked, she approached Morticia and desperately tried to guide her out, but the woman wouldn't budge.

Larissa, looking down about to say something, noticed a smirk on the doves face. "Oh no, she's noticed." Larissa thought, "she's like a bloody hound! Quick, Larissa! Say something to get her out!" and yet the woman couldn't form a single sentence.

"Do you you really want me to leave?" Morticia questioned innocently, "Or would you like for me to sit you on that desk and make you scream my name?" she then said not so innocently.

Larissa mind skidded to a halt, her body growing warmer by the second, underwear no so very clearly sticking to her, she gave a shaky, "Yes, please."

Did Larissa think this was a good idea? No, because she couldn't fucking think.

Morticia guided Larissa to sit upon her desk, "Lean back, ma chérie."

Larissa, knowing she was not steady at all, propped up on her elbows and watched as the raven-haired goddess dropped to her knees. Growing water by the second she made a whining noise to which Morticia immediately silenced with a look.

"Be patient, Larissa. You'll get what you want, just wait a bit. Now, hips up." Morticia crooned out as she bunched Larissas skirt around her hips and slid her very soaked underwear down her long legs.

"No touching, keep your hands at your sides, and NO moving your hips." Morticia stated

"Deal! Now, just bloody get on with it, woman!" Larissa whined out

Morticia smirked and let her tongue trail through Larissa, basking in the taste the was her first and forever love.

Morticia gripped Larissas thighs and held them apart and took her time nipping at each one, drawing helps and whines out of Larissa.

"Oh fuck." Larissa breathed out as Morticia circled her tongue around the throbbing bud.

Morticia let a smirk tug at her lips enjoying the fact she still has such an effect on the woman. Morticia applied immediate, hard pressure with her tongue to Larissas throbbing and swollen bud and that earned the loudest groan that she's ever heard from the woman above her.

Larissa, giving up her fight to stay upright, laid back and gripped the edges of her desk so tight her, knuckles turned white.

"Fuck, Tisha! Please for the love of God, stop teasing!" Larissa cried out.

Morticia, glaring through her lashes, gave a sharp nip to Larissas clit in retaliation, with that Larissa yelped but shut up and Morticia soothed the sting with a broad lick.

While above, Larissa was flushed, panting, trembling, and whining. All she could think was, "Fuck, fuck, fuck, ffffuckkkk!"

Morticia latched onto Larissas clit and gave a sharp suck, and Larissas hips bucked into her mouth at that. Morticia used that as a distraction to plunge in two fingers, starting a hard and fast pace immediately.

Larissa let out a sharp, pleasured filled scream at the feeling, a smile forming, eyes hooded, brows furrowed, breathing ragged, nothing but screams emerging at the feeling of the fast and relentless pace Morticia set from the start with her fingers and the feeling of Tisha's tongue, teeth, and lips on her clit.

Morticia dragged her nails carefully against the sweet spot inside the woman above her, causing her hips to jerk and a squeak to erupt from her mouth. Still relentless with her place she started curling her fingers as she pulled out, reveling in the sounds it drew from the taller woman.

Feeling Riss's walls contracting around her fingers caused Morticia to speed up her motions. No matter how much her wrist was cramping all she wanted was to draw an orgasm out of the woman above her. Give her something much better than Larissa could give herself in this moment.

Larissa, growing closer, let out a whine, "T-Fuck! Close! Tisha, I'm close!"

Morticia changed the angel a bit, shifting one of Larissas legs up in the air and down a bit as best she could from her position on the floor between the woman's legs.

With the new angle Morticias finger were able to drive deeper reaching spots that haven't been touched in so long.

Morticia could feel that Larissa was on the brink and let her eyes flicker open and up, "Go ahead, ma chérie. Let go for me, my darling." and with that said latched back on successfully driving the woman above her over the edge fast and hard.

"Fuck! God yes! T-Tisha, thank you." Larissa screamed out and continued singing Morticias name as if it was a pray in and of itself.

After successfully driving the woman she loves to 2 strong orgasms she brings her back down to earth. Gently lapping at her, cleaning her. She stands and carefully lowers Larissas leg down to lie on the desk, dangling off the edge bent at the knee.

Morticia grasps Larissas hand and carefully brushes some strands of hair, that had fallen out of the perfect up do, off of her sweaty forehead.

"Let's get you cleaned up, my love." Morticia gently guiding Larissa up and into her apartment off to the side of the office.

Getting the bath drawn and Larissa undressed and bathed all went with ease, and now lying in bed beside the woman curled around her, "Get some sleep, ma chérie. We shall talk in the morning about everything and I promise you, I will never leave you again."

Larissa had no strength to reply but instead pressed a soft kiss to Morticias shoulder and lay her head back down and snuggled in.

The next morning

Morticia was still by her side, she didn't lie. Let's just say more than a talk was had and the dearly loved principal of Nevermore could be seen walking a tad funny and the smirk adorning Morticias face was unmistakable.

Wednesday recognized everything clearly. Of course she had, she an Addams after all and living with her parents had taught her things. To say she was disgusted was an understatement but it wasn't because it was two women, she's more open-minded than that. She was disgusted that it was her mother and the principal.

Wednesday mused to herself with an evil smirk, "Well, at least now I can do as I wish with my time."

Boy was she wrong.

#morticia addams #larissa weems #larissa weems x morticia addams #larissa weems smut #Morticia Addams smut #netflix wednesday #wednesday addams #wlw #wednesday

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