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DAY XII. — HAND HOLDING (DURING THE ACT)
cw: Fluff, Romantic Talk, Hand Holding, Cunnilingus, Aged-Up / Pro-Hero Time Skip, Fem! Reader. 18+ Only!
author's note: It was so interesting writing Deku. He's so cute but he's still an anxious dweeb who struggles to talk to girls. Enjoy!
word count: Approximately 1.2k words.
“Um, okay. I’m not sure if—well, it’s just, I’ve never done anything like this before so I don’t know if I’ll be able to perform at the kind of standard you might be expecting, which—”
“Izuku.”
Izuku pauses, the brows of his face pinched together and his pretty emerald eyes wide. They’re glossy with emotion, shiny underneath the dim lighting of your bedroom. His head rests in between your thighs, hands curled around the swell of your knees, fingers pinching into your skin. The way he looks at you makes you pause, but you just amend your surprise with a half moon of a smile.
“It’s okay, really. I don’t expect you to be an expert at this. I mean, I’m sure I wouldn’t be good going down on you either.”
A distinct little yelp squeaks in the back of Izuku’s throat before he quickly flings his gaze off to the side, red flames igniting and powdering across his face while he stammers a response.
“Ha ha! W-Well, you’re great at everything you do, or, you have been, so I’m sure you’d do great if you, uh, did g-go down on m-me. B-But we’re not talking about me right now! I’m just trying to make sure that you’re comfortable with this, and that—”
“Izuku.”
Once again, his teeth snap shut, and his eyes meet yours.
“Don’t think about it too much. Just do what your gut tells you. I know it’ll feel good, don’t sweat it.”
Izuku gulps, but he nods, determined. His face shifts a little, and his body wiggles along with it. He tries to press himself further in between your legs, squeezing your knees before he starts to push them down so he can accurately lower his face to the meadows of your cunt. Izuku’s determination fades a little, cracks of doubt breaking through his facade before he swallows and scrunches his brow ridge. You stare at him fondly, content with observing him build up the courage to swoop forward and claim what already belongs to him. His locks sway along his forehead, full and curly, and they tickle your thighs with Izuku’s every subtle movement. One of your hands reaches for him, tapping his head in a wave gently before you start to pet him. Izuku jumps, quickly glancing at you before he blinks and looks down again.
“J-Just tell me if you don’t like this and want me to stop. I’ll…”
Izuku doesn’t finish his sentence. Instead, he finally bows his head until his hot breath fans against the meaty lips of your cunt. Another swallow, but Izuku doesn’t keep you waiting any longer. He’s delicate and ginger whenever he connects your lips, his mouth is soft and warm, and you moan quietly at the sensation that unfolds beneath him. It’s lightning, but it’s slow, it’s nothing real. Fire, but it’s dull, but toasty enough to feel like ice thawing from your body. The feelings start to weigh down on you, and your head collapses onto the pillow within a mere second of Izuku’s mouth against your cunt.
The fingers in his hair braid themselves, a shallow sort of attempt to ground yourself. Izuku pauses for a split second, probably listening for any signs of discomfort, but resumes once another moan floats from your chest. His mouth parts, and his tongue pokes out like a snake hidden within tall stalks of gross to lay a thin stripe over the seam of your cunt. You feel like you’re spinning on a carousel, faster and faster, and your thighs clench once Izuku’s tongue prods against your clit. It’s hard, heavy, and thumping, eager to be touched and Izuku decidedly flicks it a few times. You groan each time, encouraging Izuku to tilt his head to the side so that he could suction his mouth against your clit. Both of your eyes roll back into your head, scattering like bowling pins smacked in the center, and a moan that’s way too loud escapes you whenever Izuku starts to suck and tug your clit.
“W-What was that you were saying about not being good? Ahhh, haa, oh, Izuku, that feels so so sooo good. Don’t stop, don’t stop!”
Your praise spurns Izuku on, and he starts to work his jaw in miniscule circles to lap at your clit and play it over his tongue like a meal, like food he wanted to savor, like a broth and soup that spreads love and health throughout his chest. You wondered what Izuku was thinking, you wondered if he was really enjoying this, but an ear-splitting slurp made your head dizzy and all thoughts flew out of your mind.
His belly is flat to the bed, but you can feel him start to crunch up, can feel whenever he starts to gyrate his hips. Izuku’s moving in a way that slides you further towards him, your knees are growing closer to your head by the moment, and his face dives deeper. His groans vibrate your body, too, and his chin is parting your cunt down the middle. Glaze is slick down your flesh, but Izuku just bobs and weaves his head, smearing you wet, like he’s gone.
“Like that! Yeah, ohhh, yes, yes.”
Izuku nods to the best of his ability, and you’re left gritting your teeth and groaning. You wonder if he’s asked how to do this or if he’s researched it himself because, fuck, he’s so good, but that thought is fleeting and all you can imagine is teasing him after this is over by returning the favor. Because he’s eating you out like he’s mad with a fever, like you’re cetirizine. Maybe he’s listened to you gush one too many times—and that idea flatters you so badly, it makes you feel special to think someone is that dedicated to making you feel like this.
And whenever one of Izuku’s hands leaves your thigh, trailing down, leaving storms and electricity in his wake, you nearly gasp and cry out his name whenever he finds your free palm and taps it gently. You flex, trying to process everything, trying to focus on anything all at once but finding each feeling overlapping and overwhelming. Izuku traces his fingers up before he laces them between the gaps of yours, curling down over your knuckles and squeezing. Tears spring to your eyes, fresh and new, and you start to pant, chanting Izuku’s name with every molecule of air you sip through.
You can feel this burning, this reality that is starting to compress the rims of your belly. It’s down, but then it’s shivering and shuddering throughout your thighs all the way down to your stretching toes. But then it’s up, making your shoulder recoil and your chest bounce like a gunshot.
Izuku’s hand is in yours, and yours is in his. You return his hold, losing yourself to the intimacy of him, of Izuku, of your lover, of your pleasure. His mouth seems to suck you in, through a drain and tumbling into the rabbit hole, and you’re crying before you can catch yourself. It’s getting to be too much, the way you seem to slowly implode, and your back arches before Izuku’s name is your death rattle.
And you squeeze again, hands intertwined, and Izuku holds you all the way through your orgasm.
#my scoville lit.#mha x reader#bnha x reader#deku x reader#deku x y/n#deku x you#izuku midoriya#mha midoriya#midoriya x you#midoriya x y/n#midoriya x reader#izuku x reader#izuku x y/n#izuku x you#izuku midoriya x reader#izuku midoryia x you#midoriya izuku x reader
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Weathering the Storm
A/N: Hey Y’all! So I’ve always been someone who lurks, reblogs and enjoys the work that others put out on Tumblr. I have attempted to write things in the past but end up keeping it to myself or scrap the idea altogether— BUT after watching Deadpool and Wolverine my love for those two has hit me hard! Anyways, here’s a little angsty blurb I wrote for Logan.
Please let me know what you think! I'm open to suggestions and comments!
- Libra ✧ : *✧・゚:*
Warnings: None. Word Count: 620
The rain pounds against the window, a relentless downpour that mirrors the storm brewing inside you. You sit on the edge of the bed, arms wrapped around yourself, trying to hold it together. But it’s hard. It’s so damn hard when everything feels like it’s falling apart.
Logan is pacing the room, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. You can see the tension in his muscles, the barely contained fury that radiates off him in waves. He hasn’t looked at you since the argument started—since the words that neither of you can take back were thrown like daggers.
“Logan,” you finally say, your voice breaking the heavy silence. He stops but doesn’t turn to face you. His shoulders rise and fall with each breath, and for a moment, you wonder if he’s even listening.
But then he speaks, his voice rough and edged with pain. “I can’t keep doin’ this,” he mutters, the words barely audible over the rain. “Every time… it’s like I’m losing you a little more.”
Your heart clenches at the raw emotion in his tone, and you stand, taking a hesitant step toward him. “You’re not losing me,” you say, though the crack in your voice betrays your own doubt. “I’m right here.”
He finally turns to look at you, his eyes shadowed with something that makes your breath catch. There’s anger there, yes, but beneath it, there’s something deeper—something broken. “But for how long?” he asks, his voice rough with a vulnerability he rarely shows. “How long before you walk away? Before you decide you can’t handle bein’ with a guy like me?”
The accusation stings because it’s not entirely unfounded. You’ve both been through hell, and sometimes the weight of it all feels like too much. But the thought of leaving him? Of walking away from the only person who truly understands you? That’s a pain you can’t bear to even consider.
“I’m not leaving you, Logan,” you insist, your voice trembling. “I—” You swallow hard, trying to find the right words. “I’m scared, okay? Scared that one day I’ll wake up and you’ll be gone. That something will happen, and I won’t be able to stop it. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to be with you. I just… I don’t know how to deal with this.”
He’s silent for a long moment, his gaze piercing as he studies you. Then, with a heavy sigh, he steps forward, closing the distance between you. His hand reaches up, his rough fingers brushing your cheek. “You’re not gonna lose me, darlin’,” he murmurs, the anger in his voice replaced by something softer, something laced with the same fear you feel. “But I can’t keep fightin’ this battle alone. We’re in this together, or we’re not in it at all.”
His words hang in the air, a challenge and a plea all at once. You meet his gaze, feeling the weight of the decision before you. It would be easy to walk away, to let the fear and doubt win. But as you look into Logan’s eyes, you realize that leaving him would hurt more than anything else ever could.
Taking a deep breath, you place your hand over his. “We’re in this together,” you whisper, the resolve in your voice stronger now. “No matter what.”
For a moment, the tension between you lingers, but then Logan pulls you into his arms, holding you tight as if afraid you might slip away. You bury your face in his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart against yours. The storm outside rages on, but in Logan’s embrace, you find a sliver of peace—a promise that, despite the darkness, you’ll face whatever comes together.
#logan howlett#logan howlett x reader#wolverine x reader#james logan howlett x reader#marvel#deadpool x wolverine#deadpool 3#angst#depending on how this does maybe ill post more#hehe :3#james howlett#gender neutral reader#gender neutral y/n#hugh jackman
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If requests are still ‚allowed‘: maybe you could write a one shot about Y/Ns first time with her boyfriend H! - Ina
Technically, my requests are closed but this is so cute and I've never gotten to write anything like it so I couldn't resist 😭💞
“Breathe, baby. Breathe. Good, that’s it. Just like that.”
The weight atop your chest grows lighter as Harry’s palm cups your cheek, keeping your eyes on his. He breathes with you. In. Out. In. Out. Hold.
Your nails begin to slip down his back, anxious to hold onto him. To hold onto this moment. You don’t want to stop. You want this with him but your mind is racing. Unable to focus on anything else but the fear of what you’re about to do.
“Good,” he whispers, thumb stroking along your jaw to soothe you. He looks proud. Expression soft and understanding. “Good. Are you still with me? Do I have you?”
You take a moment to find your voice, hidden beneath your nerves. “Yes.”
He nods once. “Okay. Do you wanna stop?”
“No.” Your fingers move to his hair, tugging softly on the roots as if to nail in your point. “No, I just…I can’t…it won’t stop.”
“What won’t stop?”
You swallow, eyes falling shut so you can hide yourself from his reaction. “…the voices.”
You hope he doesn’t make you elaborate. Hope he doesn’t think you’ve lost your mind, but you feel his hold on you grow a bit more firm. Pointed. Subtly requesting you look at him once more.
Hesitantly, you do, feeling weak and small under his gaze. Under his large frame that’s keeping you trapped to the bed.
“The voices,” he repeats, and your cheeks flush. “And what are the voices telling you?”
You shift a bit, knees knocking into his hips as you take a beat to calm your racing heart. “Just…just that it won’t…be good? I guess? That you won’t…like it. That you won’t like how I do it, or…or how I am, or how I look.”
His brows furrow, forehead creasing in a way that makes your stomach drop. He’s so pretty. It hurts to see him frown.
“And?” he urges.
“And…that we won’t be us,” you admit softly, now staring a hole through the golden cross around his neck. “That you’ll…that you’ll hate it so much, you won’t be able to look at me. Or talk to me again. And I’ll be too embarrassed to try and fix it. And we’ll have done this, and it’ll ruin everything, and I’ll lose you—”
“No,” he suddenly breathes, the sound of his voice almost wounded. “Never. You’ll never lose me. Ever—”
“You don’t know that,” you argue, scratching at his scalp as you look back up. “You don’t. I’m not your first. I’m not…I’m not gonna know what to do the way you’re used to. I’m not gonna be able to do the kind of tricks or positions you might like, I won’t…I’m not gonna be any good—”
“Baby,” he just about sighs as if you’re physically hurting him. He surges forward, forehead pressing to yours as he forces you both to still. To quiet. “I…look, I know why you’re anxious, okay? Believe me, I know. I was anxious, too, my first time. It’s impossible not to be.”
You feel calmed ever-so-slightly. It’s hard for you to imagine Harry ever feeling any type of fear or anxiety.
He’s always been so…confident. Unwavering in who he is. After all, what does he have to be nervous about? He’s smart, he’s handsome, he’s rich. He’s got a body that was hand-sculpted by gods (and expensive trainers), he’s quick with a joke, and he makes everybody around him fall in love.
You already had a hard time convincing yourself he actually wanted to be with you, and it wasn’t some sort of odd joke.
And now…now you’ve got a whole new crop of unsettling doubts attempting to remind you that he can do so much better.
“But please…baby, please,” he continues, pulling your focus back. “Please believe me when I tell you that there is nothing—and I mean nothing—that could ever ruin us. That could ruin the way I feel about you. Okay, it eats me from the inside out. I think about you all goddamn day. I think about holding you, and talking to you, and just…being near you. You…are everything to me.”
Your heart begins to pound against your ribcage at the earnest vulnerability in his confession.
“I am…consumed by you,” he murmurs, his naked chest flush with yours as he nestles himself in your embrace. “You have no idea what you do to me. No idea how badly I need to be with you. How much I love you. And this…this is just one, small way of proving that. One way to show you how much I worship you, and your body, and what it does for me.”
He dips down, lips trailing down your neck and toward your tits as he presses his adoration for you into each section of your skin.
“God, what you do to me,” he whispers, almost as if to himself. “You don’t even…baby, there is no universe where I’m not enamored by you. No universe where I’m not obsessed with the way you feel, the way you look, the way you taste. I think about touching you more times in a day than I think about breathing. Think about feeling you around me every goddamn second.”
As he continues to maneuver down your body, his hips subtly grind with yours, cock delicately grazing your naked cunt as you gasp and squirm beneath him.
“I just want to take care of you,” he says, finally looking up at you through his thick lashes, lips hovering just over your nipple. “Do anything to make you feel good. Make you see how badly I need you. To hear you moan my name or cry out for me. Just wanna show you…that I’m the only voice you need to listen to.”
Your chest is beginning to rise and fall with apprehensive, needy breaths. The lust in the pit of your stomach has grown, and the only comments in your head…are his.
Which you imagine was his goal. To talk to you and praise you and remind you…until he's the only one you hear.
“We don’t have to,” he reminds you again, hand coming down to your hip to give it a reassuring squeeze. “Promise. If you’re not ready, we don’t—”
“I am,” you say quickly, whimpering a bit even as you do. “I am, really. I want to do this, I want you. I just…I want to be good for you.”
“You are,” he groans, straightening back up to press his mouth to yours and prove it to you. “So fucking good for me, baby. Always so good. Give me everything I’ve ever wanted. Don’t you, yeah?”
You nod, fingers once again pulling at his shoulder blades as you subtly beg him to keep going. Grinding. Pressing his body to yours until you can’t think about anything else.
“I know,” he mumbles, pressing your thigh to the bed to spread you as he readjusts and lines himself up. “M’gonna start slow, okay? Don’t want you to do anything but breathe. Be my good girl and let me take care of you, all right? I’ve got you.”
You make a noise in the back of your throat as you watch him bring his cock closer, dragging it through your arousal before gently pushing inside.
He’d spent a good half hour before this making sure to work you up. Eating you out, fingering you, whispering his praises. It wasn’t the first time he’d made you come, but it was certainly the most determined he’d ever been.
And you’re rather thankful for that now because you have this strange need to chase after that kind of release again. A longing to be filled in a way you couldn’t be with just his tongue.
Your lip is between your teeth as you begin to stretch around him. Your eyes have fallen closed and your thoughts have all but subsided.
And then…there’s him.
Kissing down your cheek and neck once more as he murmurs, “So good, baby. Doing so good. Talk to me. Need to hear you. Need to make sure you’re okay.”
“I’m okay,” you gasp, nails painting patterns down his spine. “Shit…m’okay.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
“Good.” He buries his face in your shoulder as he sheaths himself completely.
The room goes still. Quiet. He waits patiently for your body to adjust. For the pleasure to kick in. He fights his own instinct. Fights the urge to ruin you as he kisses the patch of skin his lips can reach.
Soon, you’re nodding quickly as you begin to gently roll your hips up. “Okay,” you sigh. “Okay, go.”
He leans back to see you, kissing the side of your temple. “Yeah?”
Another nod. “Yeah. Please, Har. Please…”
He’s heard you beg before but not like this. Not in a way that makes his stomach flip and his brain grow fuzzy.
And suddenly, all he sees is this desire to care for you. To completely own you. To make your pleasure his own personal property as you surrender to him.
So, he does. He thrusts into you in slow, hard patterns. Making sure you feel everything. Making sure you know nothing else but him. Until you’re cock-drunk and willing.
And after devoting each second of his time to making this everything you’ve ever needed, you come together.
Sweaty limbs tangling as he captures you in his arms and rides you through. As he kisses those voices away and makes a home in your subconscious. Until your body and his have become one.
And you know, without a doubt…
This is only the start.
~ Other Harry Blurbs
~ Full Masterlist
#harry#harry styles#harry edward styles#harry styles imagine#harry styles blurb#harry styles request#harry styles fan#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles x reader#harry styles x you#harry styles smut#blurb#request#smut#first time!harry
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Forbidden Secret Desire 6
Summary: He finally makes a move, and now you can do nothing but think about it, and about how you could possibly escape the arms of the feared Wolverine, until he has other plans.
(Find What I’m currently writing by checking my pinned post)
Parings: Logan Howlett x Reader
Warnings: (Individual warnings per chapter) Language, implied smut, fingering, being drugged, implied drugging, hunting rifle. Logan is an official warning as approved by the FDA (Food and Drug Administration) because Logan is a DRUG. PLEASE BE AWARE that this will be a NON-CON fic. Do NOT get attached if you do not like non-consensual fiction. I will not change my fic plans because somebody decided not to read the warnings. Thank you.
Tags: @sammyluvsfics @badbishsblog @dickmaster3000 @cellyx33 @chxrrybomb22 @remmyj10
Word Count: 3045 (Find all chapters here) Chapter 7
P.S. If you’d like to be tagged, ask in the comments, you also have permission to send an ask, but make sure it is NOT anonymous, so I know your username, don’t worry, I’m scared of confrontation too. But this is a SAFE SPACE where I will not judge. Thank you again.
Part of you couldn’t believe you didn’t notice it sooner, or rather you refused to acknowledge it. All the touchy feeling, the friendly kisses, and every nice word that had left his lips was all leading up to something bigger. Something not even Xavier would’ve been able to see.
If he could, you wouldn’t be there right now.
Sitting in the shower, letting steaming hot water run down your back as Logan prepared dinner. It felt so unrealistic what had happened throughout the day, starting off innocent before it all went to shit. His arms had wrapped around you and- well, let’s go back to the beginning, back to after you’d finished your breakfast…
You finish only a few bites, trying to hide your forgotten appetite as the words replayed in your head. “You don’t have to worry about anything. I’ll take care of you, all you have to do is sit there and look beautiful.” Words that should’ve comforted you, but gave you a wretched feeling in your stomach, after just a few bites of food, you couldn’t stomach anymore, your body threatening to throw it all back up.
“Are you alright? You’re barely eating.” He points out, his hands moving to his lap as he stares at you. Fucking menasingly, as if you were he’d eat you if you didn’t finish.
“Yea, just uhm…” You shake your head trying to think of an excuse. “Adjusting.” You tell him, looking back up at him, he looked as if he believed you, but the doubt in his eyes was still there.
“You’re lying to me.” Your jaw clenches, and you feel your body tighten up as he doesn’t believe you. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
“There’s nothing wrong.”
“There is something wrong and you’re going to tell me what it is.”
“Logan, there’s nothing-”
“Stop!” He raises his voice, making you flinch and freeze in place. “What. Is. Wrong?”
Your tongue moves over your lips, and your lip moves between your teeth as you think, one of his arms resting on the back of the couch as he moves forward, his body facing you.
“Nothing is wrong-” SMACK!
You gasp, turning your head on the impact, your brain trying to process what the fuck just happened before your eyes meet his again, your mouth hanging open slightly.
“I’m gonna ask you again, what’s wrong?”
You decide not to answer this time, your lips closing on your decision.
SMACK!
SMACK!
Now tears fell down your cheeks. You couldn’t believe what was happening. It all happened so suddenly. Then you face him again as he moves, straddling your lap and pinning your wrists above you, easily holding both your hands down with just one of his.
“All you have to do is fucking answer me.” He growls, your face now cupped in his hands as you whined, tears now progressively falling more. “How about you just stop whining? It’s getting on my nerves too now.” His voice becomes softer the more he speaks, but you can’t listen as your head rung with pain and confusion. “That’s whining!” His voice raises again and you swallow before trying to stay quiet, crying silently.
“Get off of me.” You build the courage to say, your voice shaking horribly.
“You’re not in the position to be making demands, babydoll.” He leans down, attempting to capture your lips but you turn your head, making sure he wouldn’t be able to, until he speaks. “Try that again…”
It was a simple warning. One that anybody would listen to, including you. No matter how bad you wanted to push him off of you and scream and shout profanities, you knew it would be no use. So you just stop, letting him take advantage of his strength over you.
“Good girl…” He whispers just before his lips touch yours. You can’t deny that it obviously felt amazing, but it was wrong. You wouldn’t have minded if he’d spent time trying to build a relationship, then one day leaned in for a kiss. But no, he instead hits you before kissing you, potentially locks you in a secluded cabin, and acts like he could boss you around. Which.
He could.
There was no way of winning in a fight against him.
“Now stay still…” He mumbles, still speaking quietly into your ear.
His lips move, first trailing along your jaw until he kisses your cheek, but then his lips trail up to your lips, his teeth sucking in your lip as he bites your skin gently until the kiss becomes more urgent. His lips against yours, and his tongue swiping your lips as he tries to intrude into your mouth, successfully you might add as you give in.
You gasp, feeling one of his hands reaching down as he moves your panties aside, you were still underdressed from your given lack of clothes, which you now knew was intentional.
You clench your jaw as you avoid making any sounds, sparing him the satisfaction of your pleasure as you feel his finger running through your folds, his thumb pressed to your clit as he draws long and slowly circles on your nerves, making your throat tighten with held back moans. You feel everything now, his breath fanning over your lips when he occasionally pulls back from the kiss to breathe and two of his fingers as they prod at your hole, dipping in before quickly being taken back out, causing your pupils to blast black as a moan falls from your lips before he does it again, longer this time as he draws more moans from your throat, his own pleasure seeping through as your sounds do everything to turn him on…
So now here you are. Sitting in the bathtub, hugging your legs to your chest as you remembered every detail while steaming hot water from the shower head runs down your back. Your tears hidden from the constant water flow, but you knew you would have to leave soon, or he would come in wondering what was taking you so long.
So you hold onto the sides of the tub to push yourself up to your feet, your legs wobbly from the previous assault on your body. A choke of sobs escaping your throat as you continue to remember it. You were in pain, physically and emotionally, but you reached over and turned off the water, letting your forehead rest on the cold shower wall for a moment before stepping out and grabbing a towel to dry yourself off with. It was barely 2 in the afternoon, and you were horrified for what else might happen throughout the day.
After drying off and throwing on the oversized shirt he gave you before your shower, nothing else, you place your hand on the door knob. Letting yourself take a few deep breaths before pulling the door open, the smell of barbeque smacking you in the face. But you were too tired, too exhausted, to bask in the smell. Not while you knew who was making it.
“Feel better?” He asks, not even a second after he sees you. But you nod. Not wanting to use your voice. Which he makes obvious he isn’t happy about with a sigh as he turns around and faces you, leaning against the counter with his palms on the edge as he just stares at you.
“Sorry… Yes, I feel better.”
“Good.” He turns back around, getting back to the cooking.
“Do you need help with anything?” You approach him, your arms crossed over your stomach as you do, and he looks over his shoulder, making you stop just a foot away.
“Come here.” He tells you, placing down his cloth he was using and beckoning you over with the movement of his middle and ring finger. So you obey. “Just sit here and look pretty.” He tells you, lifting you and placing you on the counter with ease before getting back to what he was doing. Seasoning some meat and cutting some vegetables before shoving them in the oven. Then facing you. His eyes glued to yours before he approaches you this time as he dries a washed knife with a clean hand towel, making his way between your legs as he easily pulls your thighs apart. No fight in your body, you know you would never be able to win against him.
Your eyes stay in his, but snap down when you feel cold metal against your skin. Your eyes now never leave the sharp knife which he carefully trailed down your thigh, softly enough to not leave a scratch, but hard enough to push your skin down. He’s careful not to hurt you, but you know he wouldn’t hesitate if you pushed his limits.
“Logan…” You mumble his name as the knife trails further up your thigh, moving closer to the inside of your thighs before he stops, just before it reaches you more sensitive areas.
“Yes?” His forehead touches yours, nudging you until you’re looking back into his eyes.
“Please… stop.” You try the limits, and freak out for a moment as a heavy sigh escapes him. And just before you think you’ve fucked up, he takes the knife away from your body, resting it on the counter beside you before his hands find their way under your shirt and on your hips.
“I’m not gonna hurt you gorgeous.” He assures you, horribly. You recall the power he had earlier as his hand collided with your cheek. That’s not hurting you? Yea right. Fucking liar.
“I know…” You mumble, lying through your teeth right back at him.
“Let me reword that hun.” He stands up straight, his head leaving yours. “I will hurt you.” Your heart feels as if it skips a beat. “And I really want to.” He growls a little as his hand comes up, his index finger resting under your chin as he lifts your head so you're looking up at him, and the sight of your innocent, fearful eyes is enough to shoot blood down his body. “But I won’t, unless I have to.” His face gets closer to yours. “So please, piss me off.” He asks, his teeth gritted before he closes the distance between your lips. His moving with urgency while you just let it happen, not adding nearly enough into the interaction for his liking. “That’s one way to do it.” He growls, and through the corner of your eyes, you see his hand reaching for the hot pan on the stove, an easy encouragement to reach your arms around his neck and pull yourself closer, pressing your lips to his. An urgency of fear rather than lust running through your lips as his hands find their way back down to your hips. And he thought you looked so perfect as his hands gripped your thighs, persuading you to wrap them around his waist, which you of course, quickly oblige, not wanting to feel the bottom of a hot pan on your skin.
So you add to it, knowing wants equal or more from you than what he’s putting in. Your hip rock, your unclothed centre rubbing against the denim of his jeans, and you feel his bulge rock back against you, one of his hands running up your spine before his palm is against your head, gripping the back of your hair as he keeps you close, his teeth biting at your lips with urgency and you know he’s holding back. You weren’t sure why, but he didn’t want to fuck you yet. Part of you wished he would, but part of you was just grateful he wouldn’t.
He settles for humping you instead, trying desperately to find a different release as a moan escapes your lips. It was fearful, but he knew there was pleasure reaping from you. He could smell your pleasure, and he wanted to help you. But he wouldn’t. He wanted to save the fucking for a much more special occasion. One he wouldn’t have you knowing about.
He pulls away, a pained pleasurable groan coming from his throat as he rests his head on your shoulder for a moment.
“Logan…?” Your voice is meek. Mainly from fear, partly from pleasure.
“Yes, bub?” He stands back straight, leaving from between your legs as he gets back to the pan of vegetables.
“Do you mind if I look around a little more?” You lean forward on the counter, pressing your elbows to your thighs as you keep your eyes trained on him.
“Go ahead, just don’t touch anything.” He tells you, taking a peek in the oven for a moment before getting back to the vegetables on the stove. “And if it’s locked it’s for a reason.” You hop off the counter, deciding to let yourself go on a good letter by standing on your toes, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek before turning around and going to inspect the cabin. Starting with the back door. You remember seeing a jacket cabinet there, with windows in the doors. So you go up to it. Searching for something you could use against him. But there’s just jackets inside.
Wait.
No.
You look closer. Hidden behind one of the heavy plain jackets is a hunting rifle. It wasn’t well hidden, but it was definitely placed in that spot with the intent to be hidden. You tug at the handle on the cabinet. Of course though, it’s locked. You want to groan and cry, since your only weapon was behind the thick glass of a locked cabinet, but you knew he would hear you. So you continue looking around.
The locks on the backdoor weren’t complicated, but there was an alarm system on each door. One of the first things you noticed when you got there…
It was a little white box, and when the door opened, an ear piercing alarm would go off. You figured it would be best to avoid the doors and windows, or just try escaping when he went out shopping. He told you that would only be once a week, and you knew he had handcuffs for that occasion, so you searched for a pin or something to use against that instead. Even though the hunting rifle would be perfect. Just kill the fucker and leave. You think, searching drawers quietly as he continues to work in the kitchen.
Fuck.
You think to yourself, making your way back down the hall before turning right into the bathroom, quietly searching those drawers now for a bobby pin. Nothing.
You start to panic slightly as you hear the button pressed to turn off the oven, so you skip a little into the bedroom, frantically, but quietly searching the drawers. Even looking for weapons, you figure the kitchen knives would be the best choice.
You search everywhere in the room, finishing when you hear plates touching the counter. Until you decide to look under the bed.
It’s completely empty under the bed, except for a little black pin that catches your eye. You reach for it quickly, Logan calling you from the kitchen making you rush.
“Y/N! Foods ready, come out here.”
“Okay Logan! Coming!” You shout back, freezing slightly when you see the little strip of hair attached to the bobby pin in your hand. It wasn’t yours.
You shove it into your pillow case, knowing he would be tying you to the bed when he went shopping, then you quickly make your way to the couches, sitting next to him and taking your plate from the table as he wraps an arm around you.
“Everything good?” He asks, wondering about your little search.
“Yea.” You nod.
“Not a very big cabin, should be easy for you to find everything.”
“Yea, I know. Just was bored I guess.” You chuckle a little, trying to calm his tone as you take the first bite of food. The flavour melting on your tongue. You guessed for someone as old as him, you weren’t surprised he could cook.
You both sit there, eating your food, and drinking from the little glass of water he gave you. No words spoken, and the atmosphere thick before he finishes his food and finally speaks.
“I’ll be going out shopping tomorrow.” He tells you. “So I expect you to behave. I’ll be handcuffing you to the bed, one hand free so you can drink if you’re thirsty.” He explains as you finish your last bite of food.
“Okay…” You whispered, not liking the situation, but who were you to make requests?
“Good, and if you try anything funny, then you’re in trouble. Just behave, that’s all I ask of you.” He tells you, his hand gently running through your hair.
“How long will you be gone?”
“Maybe two hours, depending on the snow and traffic down to the market.” He pulls you closer, letting you lean on him and you suddenly feel sleepy. “But you’ll probably be asleep until around… I don’t know, five in the afternoon. I should be back by then.”
“Lo-”
“Shh…” He hushes you, his hand moving to cup your jaw as you force yourself to stay awake. “I don’t trust you yet, bub. So just go to sleep, and when you wake up, I’ll be back.”
You felt so tired, and no matter how hard you tried, it was a struggle to keep your eyes open. You weren’t sure if he had put something in the food, the water. But either way, you couldn’t stay awake. You just fell limp as you leaned against him, and the last thing you felt was your body being lifted from the couch, your body sleeping before your mind as you could still hear him speak to you.
“I’ll be back tomorrow, Y/N.” His voice felt distant, and you felt your body become more relaxed before you felt his mattress against your back. “Then I’ll take you hunting, I’m sure you’ll have fun.” You feel his lips touch your cheek as he kisses you. “Behave.” He growls a little, and you hear the shift of jackets, and the closing of the bedroom door as he leaves, the sound of hunting sounding much more sinister than it should seem…
#marvel#marvel smut#fanfic#marvel fanfiction#x reader#wolverine#logan howlett#logan x reader#wolverine x reader#logan james howlett#smut#xmen#x mansion
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One Night Possession {Dave York x F!Reader}
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 4.6k
Warnings: Sex work, prostitution, oral sex (male receiving), vaginal fingering, protected sex, rough sex, thigh slapping, dirty talk, spitting, choking, death, haunting/possession
Comments: Picking you up on Halloween night for a little fun gives Dave more than he expected.
Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers
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|| MasterList || Dave York MasterList ||
Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.
Halloween is your favorite night of the year. The time where you feel like you are most yourself. The tall boots on your feet don’t even hurt, making your legs look long and the short skirt appear even shorter. Walking down the street, the witch’s hat perched on your head, you turn to watch a car approach and quickly adjust your tits in your shirt to make them appear to almost spill out. Smirking when the vehicle starts to slow down.
Dave pulls up next to you and puts his passenger side window down. You smirk and stride over, his dark eyes taking in your legs, dragging up to the short skirt, and his eyes linger over your cleavage when you bend into his car. You’re perfect. “Nice hat.” He smirks, clicking the button to unlock the door. You chuckle and reach for the handle, “thought I’d celebrate the holiday. I see you’re lacking an outfit.” You tut playfully and Dave turns his head to look at you once you’re in his car and the door is shut. “Not all monsters wear costumes.” He chuckles and your smirk falters a little. “You wanna come back to my hotel?” He asks, “I’ll pay for the night.”
You assess him carefully, being a pretty good judge of character in your line of work. He’s handsome and clean cut. Almost too clean, but you won’t mind that. It will be better than some of the men you entertain. “One thousand for the entire night.” You decide after a moment, sending him a small smirk. “It’s a popular night and I’d be losing money if I didn’t charge you that much.”
He nods, unable to disagree and he unlocks his car so you can get in. Once you’re in, he rolls the window up and smirks at you, “what’s your name, sweetheart?” He asks and you chuckle, “you can call me sweetheart, baby.” He nods and grins as he puts the car in drive and starts to head to the motel he’s been using during this op. It’s been a long mission to take down the man he needs to kill and he’s finally done it. He has one night here to not be suspicious and then he’s heading home. He wants to enjoy himself tonight. It is Halloween after all.
“So do I call you John?” You ask teasingly, shifting in the seat to watch him as he drives. He checks his mirrors often and you know that it’s not a cop thing, more of military training from the way he holds himself. “Fuck no.” Dave shakes his head, always hating that name. “The name you are going to scream tonight is Dave.” He tells you, making you smirk as you lean forward and rub his crotch. “That so, baby?” You coo, feeling him start to harden as you touch him.
Dave chuckles, “oh, you won’t be doubting my skills soon, little girl.” He smirks and reaches down to squeeze his cock with your hand under his. “I don’t know if you’ll be able to take me. I’m big. Thick. I’ll stretch your little cunt out.”
He is girthy. You snort and reach for his zipper. “I can take it.” You promise, reaching in to fumble with his boxers to pull his cock out while he is driving. You don’t normally engage in blow jobs until you’ve gotten paid and you’re in a room, but you’ll make an exception for him.
Dave chuckles, watching as you lower your head and your witches hat brushes the drivers side door. He smirks and caresses your neck, groaning when you take him into your mouth without a moment to spare. “Jesus. You’re cock hungry, aren’t you?” He asks roughly, trying to focus on the road.m
You hum, taking him deep, but he’s right. He will stretch you out and your cunt clenches at the thought. Your tongue laps around the head when you pull back and you push him deep again to swallow around his length.
“Shit. You’ve got a good mouth.” He hisses as he tightens his grip on the steering wheel. “Anyone would think you do this for a living.” He jokes and presses his foot to the accelerator a little harder. “Fuck baby.” He murmurs, twisting his hands over the wheel as you start to bob on his length.
You hear him start to sound breathless and you hum again. Enjoying the way that he’s enjoying himself. He’s telling dirty without degrading you and that’s a nice start. You don’t mind dirty talk; but it always turns you off when the first words out of a John’s mouth is ‘whore’.
You take him down your throat, a choked sound escaping you, and he hisses through his teeth. “Fuck. You feel so good. Worth every goddamn penny. Shit. So enthusiastic. You wanted to do this from the moment you saw me, didn’t you?” He asks, turning into the street where the motel is located.
You don’t pull off of him to answer. The real reason for your enthusiasm would surprise him and you don’t want to give up the game this early in the night. Instead, you press down even more, your lips stretched against the rough fabric of his pants.
He pants, letting go of the wheel so he can reach down and stroke your cheek, feeling how he stretches your skin and the way your jaw is wide as possible. “Shit. Feels so fucking good. You love this. You want me to fill your throat with my cum, sweetheart? You want to taste it?” He asks and you hum around him. He groans as he pulls into the parking lot and the space outside his room. Just as he slams the gear into park his cock twitches and he starts to cum down your throat.
You gasp and start to swallow. You had anticipated him lasting a little longer and you wonder when the last time he had a blowjob was. Swallowing down as much as you can until you have to pull back, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand and looking up at his wrecked expression.
He knows he should’ve lasted longer but Carol has been cold towards him and hasn’t sucked his cock in a while. He’s been pent up and that’s why he decided to seek a release tonight. Carol is taking the girls trick or treating so there’s plenty of time for him to enjoy himself before she calls him to say a cool goodnight. “Goddamn.” He mutters, reaching to cut the engine.
“I’m worth every penny.” You promise, winking at him before you look up at the motel he brought you to. It’s clean, decent, although it’s definitely not the Ritz. He is probably some mid-level salesman or management here in town for a few days and wanted some fun. Doesn’t matter to you. A girl’s gotta eat. “Take me to your room.”
He nods, opening his car door after tucking himself away and he doesn’t bother to open yours. He grabs the key and unlocks his room and the car beeps as it locks when you saunter over to him, smirking as you walk into the room past him and he inhales your perfume.
“Cozy.” You coo, looking around the neat room. This place might be lower budget, but they are clean. Smirking when you point to the bed, you lift a brow at him. “Have you touched yourself here, thinking about how you need to get laid?” You ask playfully, walking over and sitting down on the end and leaning back, displaying your body for him to look at.
He drags his eyes along your body, watching you as you kick your heels off, and he smirks, eying the witches hat. “Maybe. Was thinking about a nice tight pussy to push my cock into.” He hums and reaches up to start unbuttoning his shirt. “Money first or after?” He asks once his shirt is open.
“Show me the money.” You want to make sure he’s good for it first. But you can collect after you're done. You’ve actually never had anyone stiff you on a payment. Especially not someone who wanted an entire night.
He nods, reaching for his envelope of cash that he uses for ops. He never uses his card. He’s not a moron. He makes a show of counting the bills for you before he sets it down on the desk in the room. “One thousand.” He declares and you nod, “thanks, baby.” He smirks and his dark eyes drag over your body once more. “Now, I want to watch you strip. But keep the hat on.” He decides, wanting to be festive.
“Whatever you say, Dave.” You make a show of standing up and prop one heeled boot on the bed to start unzipping it. It will feel good to have the heels off for a little bit and you enjoy the way his dark eyes drink you in.
He watches you, his eyes darkening and he is happy to eye up your legs as you expose more of your body to his hungry eyes. “That’s it, sweetheart. I want a show.” He demands, reaching down to squeeze his cock through his pants.
It’s not an unheard of request, a lot of men like to watch. Instead of leering, his eyes are dark with want. He’s not even hard yet since he had just cum but you have a feeling he’s the going to fuck you multiple times tonight.
He watches you, eagerly, hungrily, as you start to strip down. It’s methodical. Like you’ve done it a thousand times before but it’s an intoxicatingly sexy sight that has him groaning softly, squeezing his soft cock once more through his pants as he kicks off his shoes.
When you get down to your thong and bra, you turn around and bend down, giving him a nice view of your ass as you peel them down. Then unclipping your bra and flinging it off so all you are wearing is the witch’s hat before you reveal your tits to him.
Dave chuckles at your display and smirks, reaching for you once you’re naked so he can drag you into his chest. “You have any rules on kissing?” He asks and you snort, “this isn’t Pretty Woman. Kiss me.” You demand and cup the back of his neck to drag him towards you just as he surges forward to press his lips to yours.
He’s a good kisser. A little rough, demanding, but you don’t mind. This is obviously a man who likes to be in control and his hands slide down to squeeze your ass harshly. Tongue tangling with yours until he bites your bottom lip.
His hands squeeze your flesh and he starts to harden against your hip. It’s been too long since he was this attracted to a woman. Carol hasn’t touched him for a while and he’s pent up. He wants to touch and be touched.
Your hands slide over his shoulders and you tangle your fingers into his short hair as you start to grind down on him. Rolling your hips and feeling him harden underneath you. Deepening the kiss even more as you pull him closer.
He groans into your mouth, his fingers digging into your ass, and his tongue slides against yours while his hands trail up your figure. He cups your tits, squeezing them, and he loves the way you moan when he pinches your nipples.
This man has a good set of hands on him. You moan for him again, it’s not practiced or put on, he’s drawing it out of you. “Dave.” You pull away from his lips and kiss down his throat. “What do you want to do to me?”
“I want you to sit there.” He says and his hand slides down your stomach until he’s cupping your cunt. He groans when he finds you’re wet. “You get wet for everyone?” He asks as he starts to stroke your clit with his fingers.
“No.” You admit breathlessly, moaning softly when he presses his fingers with the perfect amount of pressure. “Sucking your cock helped, but you are hot.”
Dave chuckles, continuing to work his fingers along your slit until he’s pushing two thick digits into you with a groan at how wet you are. “Fuck sweetheart. You’re so tight. Gonna feel so good around my cock.”
“Practice my kegals.” You tease and close your eyes when he curls his fingers deep inside you. “Your hands feel so good on me.”
He hums, shifting his wrist so he can press your thumb against your clit. “Gotta stretch you out.” He smirks and leans in to kiss along your jaw, “want to feel you cum so you’re nice and wet for me.”
It’s rare that a client cares about your pleasure so you roll your hips against his hand. “Oh fuck.” You whimper, closing your eyes and riding his fingers.
He watches you, loving the way your eyelashes flutter as you rock down onto his fingers. “That’s it, sweetheart. Look at you. So goddamn pretty like this. Keep going. Want you to soak my fingers.” His voice is rough and demanding as he drinks in the sight of you.
You rarely cum when you are with someone, so you appreciate his effort. It’s not that you can’t, they are just focused on the pleasure they pay you for and not your. Dave apparently gets enjoyment from others cumming. “I will.” You promise, grinding down even more.
He hums, watching you as you ride his digits and his cock twitches, hardening with each moan you let escape from your lips. “Good girl, sweetheart.” He murmurs, “take what you want. Then I promise I’m gonna fuck you so hard you won’t even remember it’s Halloween.”
You chuckle. “That’s a big promise.” You moan breathlessly. “I’m only allowed out to play on Halloween.” You tease, flicking your witch’s hat. You groan again and clench down around his fingers when he presses them deeper. “Fuck.”
“Come on baby. Soak my fingers.” He growls out his demand as he strokes your walls, curling his digits inside you and groaning at the way your thighs shake against his hand. “That’s it. Do it.” He demands, leaning in to nip your jaw.
You close your eyes and fall over the edge. Pleasure splintering through your body as you shake on his lap. Pouring over his fingers since you always have a lot of juices when you cum.
Dave groans at the way you soak his digits, working you through it and he withdraws his fingers. “Good girl. Now, hands and knees. I’m gonna fuck you.” He smirks as he admires the slick on his fingers and he stands up, using his sticky fingers to undo his pants.
“Yes sir.” You coo cheekily, your legs shaky as you shift onto your knees and turn to present your cunt to him. “You want to fuck me, Dave? Make me scream your name?” You ask, looking over your shoulder as you he pushes down his pants and underwear.
He reaches for his pants to grab his wallet, pulling out the condoms he keeps in there and he tosses two onto the bed while he opens the third, rolling it onto his hard cock before he starts to pump himself. His dark eyes admire your fluttering pussy as you present yourself to him. “Look at you. Fucking gagging for it. You haven’t been properly fucked for a while, have you? Been too used to piss ant losers who pump three times and cum.”
“Yessssss.” You admit, wiggling your hips at him and smirking at the cocky look on his face. He’s fucking sexy and he acts like he actually knows how to fuck. It will be a treat for Halloween if he does. “Need someone to wreck me. Make me sore.”
He kneels on the bed behind you, caressing your ass with his free hand as he positions his cock at your entrance, sliding through your folds until he pushes into you in one thrust. Your gasp makes him chuckle and he grabs your ass, squeezing it.
He feels so good inside you. His cock rubbing against your walls and stretching you out enough that there is a pinch of pain. “Fuck.” Your head drops between your shoulder blades and you push your stomach down to arch your back. “Feels good, baby.”
“Shit. Such a tight little pussy.” Dave murmurs, admiring the way you feel around his cock. His hand smacks your ass and he doesn’t give you another moment to adjust as he starts to rock into you.
“Dave.” You moan, enjoying the way that he immediately starts to fuck you. He doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t work up to a rhythm. He just pulls his hips back and starts to hammer into you. Your fingers clench around the sheets and you feel your body being pushed forward when he drives back into you.
He chuckles at your moan and smacks your ass cheek, working himself into your tight cunt over and over. His jaw is clenched and he’s pent up. The adrenaline of his completed op surges through him and he wants to lose the energy in your body.
“Give me more.” You beg. “I can take it.” You can tell that he is holding back, not fully unleashed and you want to see what he can do with your body.
He growls, rocking into you a little harder, his hips slamming into your ass and he loves the moan that escapes your lips. You want more, you want him to lose control and he is almost there. “Fuck. You’re so cock hungry, aren’t you?” He groans, bending over your body to palm your breast.
“Yes!” You always agree with your client but you do want him to wreck you. You feel like he might be the only one who could. You push your hips back and moan his name again.
He hisses, pinching your nipple and he slaps your tit, loving the way it shakes. “You’re so pliable. You’ll take whatever I give you.” He chuckles and turns his head to kiss your shoulder.
The sharp sting of the pinch and slap is directly opposite of the kiss. A paradox or perhaps more of a layer of the multi-faceted man who is currently in charge of your body.
His mind blurs to the chaos he lives in and he focuses on you. He pushes deep into your pussy over and over, loving the way you grind back against him while he presses another kiss to your shoulder.
You rock back as he fucks you, pushing him deeper. “God. Dave.” You pant. “It’s so good. Fuck, you are good. Your cock is so deep.”
He shifts to sit up, his hands finding your hips to keep you still as he starts to fuck you harder. He wants to wreck you. He wants you to be breathless and your heart pounding at the way he fucks you. The witches hat is crooked and it makes him chuckle as his hips slap against yours.
A low moan rolls out of you. Pushed out from the slapping of his hips against your ass and the piercing of his cock deep into your walls. It feels like he’s trying to bury his cock in your throat again and you love it.
Dave rocks into you, his jaw clenched as he focuses on fucking you hard and fast. He grunts through his nose and his fingers dig into your flesh, pulling you back onto him as he thrusts hard.
You whine and whimper, letting your sounds come out naturally and without any of the exaggerations that you might have used with others. You have a feeling he wouldn’t like that. Not that you have to fake with the harsh pace he’s plowing into you at.
Your whines make his cock twitch and he shifts his knees to adjust, chuckling when you cry out. “There it fucking is.” He smirks, knowing that he has no obligation to make a whore cum but he wants to hear your screams. He gets off on them.
Every time he punches deep from this new angle. He cock shreds up inside you and makes you continuously cry out. It feels incredible and every time you squeal, Dave growls and just seems to go that much harder.
Dave hisses when you clench around him and he’s desperate to hear you cum. He can be selfish, especially when he’s paying for sex, but for some reason, he wants to feel you clamp down on his cock. He wants to hear your scream of pleasure. He hears so many screams of fear, he wants to hear something sensual for a change.
It doesn’t take long for you to feel that desperate clenching in your stomach. Pushing you closer to cumming with every swing of his hips.
Dave can sense you’re close. The way your whines become incoherent and the moans that resembled his name have become rambles. Your walls flutter around his cock and he hisses when finally you clamp down on him and squeal, collapsing onto the bed. He follows you, working you through it until your whines become sensitive and he pulls out. “Roll over.” He commands, squeezing his cock.
Panting, you puff out a groan as you roll over onto your back. Facing Dave as he squeezes and strokes his cock. He looks darker, his face pinched in desire and his eyes are almost black as night. It makes your breath catch at how perfect he is and you spread your legs enticingly. “That all you got?” You tease.
He chuckles, “you ain’t seen nothing yet, sweetheart.” He promises as he shuffles closer so he can notch his cock at your entrance again before he pushes into you with a groan. “Fuck. You feel so good.” He hisses, fingers digging into your thighs and he pushes them back so he can sink deeper into you.
You lift your legs, feeling him start to push them back towards your chest. Obviously wanting to fold you over and fuck you into oblivion again. You whine at the angle, his cock pushing the breath out of you the next time he snaps his hips forward.
Your gasp makes him chuckle and he rocks into you, his hips pressing against your ass as you take what he gives you without a word of complaint. “That’s it. Shit. Look at you. Wrecked and I haven’t even gotten started.” He smirks, slapping your thigh.
You squeal, the slap hard enough that you feel the edges of a welt start to form. Normally you don’t allow a client to mark your body, but you are his for the night and him making you cum lets you give him a little more leeway.
“That’s it, baby. Take it.” He demands, slapping your thigh again and he lets go to push your body in half, his hand gripping your chin so he can surge forward to press his lips to yours, his tongue possessively sliding into your mouth.
You cry out, the sound muffled by his tongue and you feel him pulse inside you. Turned on by your sound so you give him more. Breathing them into his mouth as he completely possesses you.
His fingers dig into your jaw, keeping your mouth open, and he smirks as he pulls back. He pauses for a second as he spits into your mouth, “swallow.” He demands, dark eyes watching you as he fucks into you.
It’s filthy and you clench down around him as you swallow down his spit. Right now he is completely in control and dominating every aspect of your entire being. “Fuck.” You whine. “I’m g-gonna cum.”
He smirks, “do it. Wanna feel you again. Cum for me.” He demands, rocking into you a little harder. “I want to watch you.” He murmurs, nudging his nose against yours before he pulls back to look at you, “cum for me, sweetheart.”
Him giving you permission is all you need. A scream rips out of your throat as he pounds into you. Your juices coating his cock and soaking him while you shake and thrash under this man.
He loves feeling you cum and seeing it. It’s intoxicating and he can’t help but twitch inside you. “That’s it. Shit. So fucking tight.” He hisses, unable to hold back anymore and he thrusts a half dozen more times, grunting until he groans, cock twitching inside you as he fills the condom with his seed.
Tilting your head back, you close your eyes. Panting as you try to catch your breath while your cunt still flutters around his cock. “Fu-“ you catch your word when his hand slides up to your throat and he presses his lips to yours.
His other hand comes up to your neck, squeezing and you gasp into his mouth. “Dave.” Your choked cry of his name makes him chuckle and he leans back to look at you. “Sshhh. Don’t worry, baby. It’s all gonna be okay. Just look at me. I wanna see the life fade from your eyes.” He coos, squeezing harder.
Your eyes blow wide and you struggle against him, but he has you pinned down. His cock buried inside your body as he slowly chokes the life out of you. The last thing you see before your vision blurs and goes black is Dave’s eyes watching you.
He groans, unable to stop himself as he cums again, his cock softening as he twitches inside you while his hands squeeze your neck until you slacken beneath him. You’re dead. Your eyes glaze over and he chuckles, leaning in to kid you softly. “Thank you, baby.” He murmurs, caressing your cheek. You’ve been perfect. Exactly what he needed. He grips the base of his cock as he pulls out of you, wrapping up the condom to toss it in the trash can. He needs to deal with your body but for now, he’s going to shower and clean the room.
****
Slipping into bed next to Carol the next morning, Dave smirks to himself when she rolls over and gives him a sleepy-eyed smile. “Hey, honey.” She murmurs before she closes her eyes and goes back to sleep.
He pulls her close, breathing her in, and he knows the evilness that haunts him has been satiated with his latest kill. You are buried in the woods, no marker, and no one will miss you. The thousand dollars is back in his wallet and he can make love to his wife without wanting to choke her, hurt her. His demons are at bay. He sleeps for a bit until he’s ready to get up. When he wakes up, he goes to the bathroom for a pee and to get ready. He grabs his toothbrush and looks in the bathroom mirror when he starts to brush until he chokes on the toothpaste. He murmurs your name, spinning his head to see where you are, and turns back to the mirror.
Your eyes are black, completely black with none of the white showing, lips curved into a wicked smile. Looking possessed by a demon. “Don’t worry baby.” You coo, leaning in to hover over the edge of his shoulder. “I’ll be with you forever.” You promise.
His eyes widen and he shakes his head. Closing his eyes, he slaps his cheek as if he’s still asleep, but when he opens his eyes, you’re still in the mirror. “What the fuck?” He murmurs, gripping the edge of the sink. “I’ll be here forever.” You promise, black eyes burning into his and Dave swallows harshly when you say “I’ll be watching you.” Dave drops his toothbrush and stumbles from the bathroom, confused and scared of the image in the mirror. He thinks he’s dreaming but you’re right. Every time he looks in the mirror…you’re there.
#pedro pascal#dave york#dave york x reader#dave york x you#dave york x f!reader#dave york smut#dave york fanfiction#dave york imagine#halloween 2024
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if your still taking requests, can you do a Bullfrog and Rayman/ramon of their S/O is Pregnant? if you can't that's okay
Thank you for the request !
I apologize for taking longer than usual , I found myself in need of a break since I was feeling a bit too uninspired to write :,T
Anyway I’ve never really written anything for a pregnant reader before , so this was a pretty fun challenge :,)
Hope it turned out okay !
Details : use of female reader ( thought I’d go for that given the prompt , hopefully that’s alright ! ) ;
established relationships ;
no warnings needed
Bullfrog 💚
Deep down , Bullfrog still can’t believe he is actually going to become a dad …
While he is definitely worried about how he is going to keep you and your future child ( or children :> ) safe , this frog is still really looking forward to start a family with you , and he will remind you of this a lot .
< y/n , my dear , I’m just so grateful to have you by my side , you know ?
I’m so happy about our child , je ne peux pas attendre … >
He is the absolute best at taking care of you , using all the spare time he gets when he isn’t out for missions to be there anytime you need something , no matter how small .
< I’m back mon amour !
Here , I brought you some more food in case you get hungry , and I also made some tea while I was at it . >
< Thank you honey ! This is exactly what I needed , you’re amazing ~ >
When you’re feeling a bit fatigued , Bullfrog loves to just rest by your side , with the two of you often falling asleep into each other’s arms .
And if you ever try to stay up anyway , well … your partner is very good at persuading you to do otherwise .
< Hmm … I’m not that tired , sweetie … we can still … talk , or maybe do … something else … >
< Non y/n , you need to get some sleep … you had a long day today , and I don’t want you to stress yourself too much .
I’m going to be right here with you mon cher , so don’t worry , alright ? >
< Heh , alright , thanks Bullfrog …
Oof , give me a second , the little one is starting to feel heavy … >
Your beloved assassin adores those simple moments of intimate bliss he gets with you , and whenever he occasionally opens his eyes to check on you he can’t help but feel an overwhelming happiness , knowing that you’re the person that he’s going to share a family with …
Despite the uncertainty of your futures , Bullfrog knows that as long as you’re with him , there will always be hope for him somehow .
Rayman 🧡
Oh boy is he excited !
Rayman loves children , so the mere thought that he’s going to have a kid with you fills him with joy …
He never thought that he’d be able to have something like this in his life , given the way people see him despite his popularity , so you better believe that he will be showering you with affection … even more than usual .
< Oh y/n , sometimes I still can’t believe this is happening , y’know ?
I just … god , I love you so much ~ >
Unfortunately , I honestly doubt the Directors would show much care about the fact that their star’s partner is going through a pregnancy …
They need Rayman to be on the show , that’s what matters most to them , so as much as he hates the idea of leaving you alone he doesn’t have much of a choice …
< Damn it …
I’m so sorry … if I could stay with you I would , but the Directors … >
< Hey it’s alright hun , I’m just gonna lay here and rest until you come back , I should be just fine . >
< Mm … well , maybe I can convince them to let me go home earlier than usual : I don’t want anything to happen to you because I couldn’t be here , y/n … I … I would never forgive myself … >
< Ray , love … you worry too much .
Now come here , I didn’t forget about your goodbye kiss ~ >
< Heh , thank you y/n … mm … ~
I’ll be here as soon as I can , I promise . >
During the immensely frustrating hours where he can’t be with you , Rayman is still going to remain in contact with you by calling you and sending you texts … a lot .
“Hey sweetie !
This should be the last interview for today , I can’t wait to see you ! ❤️
How do you feel ? I remember yesterday night you couldn’t sleep much , did you manage to get some rest ? Oh , you should also remember to drink some water if you haven’t already , it really is important , especially now !”
“Hi Ray ! ❤️
I’m okay , don’t worry , I got some sleep and that really helped a lot !
I think our child is happy you’re coming home … I can feel it kicking since I begun writing you this message !
We’ll both be waiting for you ❤️❤️”
After Rayman gets home , I hope you’re prepared to be showered with love and affection for the rest of the day :
he just can’t express how much he missed you , from your voice to your beautiful face … you just make him so happy , and knowing that you’re about to start a family together is just everything he could possibly need .
Ramon 🖤
1 Now that he doesn’t have to care about his job or the orders of the Directors , you better believe that Ramon is never , ever going to leave your side , especially now that you’re pregnant .
He is terrified at the idea of losing his one chance of finding happiness in his otherwise bleak existence … he won’t allow that to happen .
< y/n , where are you going ? >
< Ah , I’ll be right back Ram , I just wanted to go for a quick walk just outside , my legs are a bit sore and - >
< I’m coming with you . >
< You don’t have to do that , love … I know the wounds you got yesterday while fighting those Eden guys still hurt , you should rest . >
< I don’t … care about that . I need to be there for you . I need to keep you and our child safe .
Please y/n … you’re all I have . >
< Okay , okay … we’ll go together , hun . I won’t leave you . >
< Thank you … >
He finds it especially comforting to gently rest his head on your stomach , listening to the baby’s occasional small movements beneath …
It’s in little tender moments like these that Ramon can finally put his mind at ease , momentarily forgetting about Eden and the mess you’re in .
< Does this hurt , darling ? >
< Hmm ?
Oh no , it doesn’t ! Don’t worry about it …
It actually feels very nice ~
Ramon’s mind often gets crowded with unwelcome thoughts about what kind of life will he be able to provide to your kid , given the critical situation you’re currently both in , and as much as he tries to keep those feelings to himself you’re able to understand what’s on his mind .
< I know you’re worried about our future , I am too … but I just know things will be alright for all three of us . >
< How do you know that … ? >
< Oh , that’s easy Ram :
I have you here with me , and that’s all I need to keep on going !
It’s not going to be easy , but I know we can face what comes next if we stick together , and we’ll be able to make our child grow happily in a good place . >
< Heh … you always know how to make me feel better , y/n .
I love you so much , you know that … ? >
< I love you too Ramon … trust me , we are going to be okay . >
#captain laserhawk#x reader#bullfrog x reader#rayman x reader#bullfrog captain laserhawk#captain lazerhawk rayman#captain laserhawk bullfrog#rayman#captain lazerhawk bullfrog#female reader
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I run from the things that I want the most - Shoji x Reader
requested by @fuzztacular - this was a wild ride to write
Reader has a lizard quirk, this fic is in tune with this Tokoyami fic
“Cute,” Shoji thinks, lips pressed together tightly to make sure the word doesn’t slip out.
You’re sitting at the kitchen table, fighting against sleep. Your hair’s stuck to the side of your head, no doubt from sleeping on your side, and the sleeves of your sweatshirt dangle from your arms, your hands hidden away. You always do that and while he’d never openly admit it, it’s the one thing that makes his stomach flutter every single time.
But he’s nice and respectful and he’s not going to make you feel weird in your new, shared apartment. Besides, you’re probably not interested anyway.
“Here,” he pushes a cup of coffee toward you and turns back toward the stove, “Do you want real eggs for breakfast or the vegan alternative?”
“Both is fine,” you groan into your coffee, so he checks the fridge. He’s running low on bacon, but the vegan alternative Koji brought over last time tastes like cardboard. Well, he supposes he can leave the bacon for you and eat cardboard for breakfast today.
- -
One month after you’ve moved in, things have turned a little less awkward. You’re in your room most of the time and he’s out for work during all the other hours.
Shoji knows you settled in from all the little things.
Your conditioner is squeezed into the tiny tray with his things, your shampoo bottle sitting cozy on the bottom next to his. Sometimes, when he feels particularly lonely and awkward, he gets flustered looking at your toothbrush sitting in the same cup as his.
But this is fine. He’s fine. Everything’s fine.
.
“I’m making dinner,” he calls out to your closed door. “Do you want something?”
He leans down to pull the pan out, the movement pulling at the fresh stitches. He hisses at the pain, clutches his side, and almost topples over.
Shoji’s barely regained his balance when he feels an arm under one of his, pulling him up.
“Are you okay?” You ask, breath washing over his face. It almost makes him topple over again.
“I’m fine,” he insists, but he can feel a sticky wetness on his left side.
“You’re bleeding,” you point out and he groans. “Yeah, I’m aware.”
“Are you hurt?”
“A little,” Shoji confesses when your brows do that funny thing they did the first time you met.
“What do you need?”
“Food,” He snorts when you look wholly unimpressed. “I’m serious, I’m fine. I just… moved wrong. I think I pulled at my stitches, that’s all.”
“I don’t believe you. Come on, call your doctor or nurse or whoever gave you permission to go home and tell them what you did. I’ll cook in the meantime.”
Shoji sighs and grabs his phone, makes it past the kitchen table when you turn around and snip your fingers.
“In here,” you point at the table, “Where I can hear that you’re not making light of anything.”
- - -
How does one make friends?
Shoji has never been good at it.
It’s not like anyone ever gave him the manual everyone else seemed to be able to follow either.
He’s too quiet or says the wrong things, is too scary or not scary enough…
Sometimes, mostly when everyone he knows is out working or busy doing other stuff, he can’t help but wonder if he only has friends because he happened to come close to one Midoriya Izuku.
Maybe that’s all it is.
.
The front door opens in the middle of his ruminations and you stop, halfway into the apartment, bags hanging off your shoulders. “Oh,” you say, “You’re home.”
Shoji freezes for only a second before he shakes his head.
“Just sitting around. If you want to use the living room I can read in my bedroom just as well.”
“You don’t have to,” you insist, “I was just going to watch something. I can do that in my room as well.”
“What were you going to watch?”
“Oh, you know…” You stutter out the name of a show he’s heard mentioned before.
“I don’t know that show,” he admits, “Would it be too forward if I watched it with you?”
.
The show is quite interesting and he makes a mental note to catch up on it later.
You’re sitting tense, body crammed into the opposite corner. Maybe he’s readying all the signs wrong too.
Maybe you’re not shy like Fumikage said, but rather not interested.
“How did-” You start and he looks over. “Never mind.”
“Please?”
You’re looking away and he’s already giving up hope when you speak up again.
“How did Tokoyami convince you?”
Shoji furrows his brows, a little confused.
“To let me move in,” you explain.
He blinks. “He just told me that you needed an apartment. Didn’t he tell you that I was looking for a roommate?”
“No, I got that, but-” You bite down on your lip and he looks away, intent on not making you uncomfortable. He’s probably doing a shit job at it as is. “I’m a girl.”
“I know.”
You’re now furrowing your brows and maybe you’re already losing patience with him or you’re really just trying to figure out how to explain this.
“How did he convince you?”
“Oh, he didn’t, but my cousin… you know, since they’re dating…” You’re rambling now, already gone far past the point you were trying to make. “And I thought maybe you’re looking for a girlfriend rather than a roommate-”
“I’m not.”
“Oh,” you make and he’d give his career to know if that just sounded a little disappointed to him or if it was meant that way.
“Not that I’m not interested,” he tries to explain himself, “But looking for it doesn’t really make sense if you don’t know how to look.”
Embarrassment floods him like a tidal wave. He’s staring at the screen now, hoping against hope that you didn’t realize what he meant by that.
“I know what you mean,” you point out, voice so quiet he almost misses it. When he turns you’re not looking at him, hands fiddling in your lap as you stare at the screen as well.
“So we’re both unfamiliar with how dating works?” He asks, unable to keep quiet, to just assume.
You nod, stiffly.
“Maybe we could give each other pointers,” the words slip out before he can wholly figure out what he wants them to mean.
You nod again, still not looking at him.
“How about,” he starts, looking down at his hands, all six of them. “Being friends?”
- - - x
“Morning,” Shoji greets when you slip out of your room.
You wave in his approximate direction and drag yourself to the bathroom first. It’s getting colder and you can tell your body’s not pleased about leaving the warm cocoon you’ve built in your bed.
You didn’t get all the cool benefits of your mother’s quirk, not like your cousin. You’re not even a little fireproof - you had to find out the hard way.
But just like any regular lizard you’ve got a problem regulating your temperature.
Your eyes blink back at you a little less colorful today and the world has turned foggy. You bite back a groan and slip into an array of shirts to keep you warm. You know what it means, but if you can live a little longer in denial, you’ll take every minute of it.
.
“Breakfast’s ready,” Shoji calls out when you step out of the bathroom.
He doesn’t seem to feel the biting cold at all, wearing nothing but a tank top and sweatpants. The sight of his bare feet makes you shiver. The sight of his tanktop-clad shoulders makes you shiver too, but for a different reason.
It still felt like a fever dream some days, all of this. Moving in with your cousin right after College only for her to find the man of her dreams within six months of you living together. And she’d been so nice about it too, promising she’d never ask you to move out or leave you alone with a rent too high to pay alone.
But one could only do so much third-wheeling before it became too much.
And now you’re here, already five months into living with Shoji, who’s probably the last decent man on earth.
He even cooks you breakfast every single day - well, minus the two weeks he was out of commission because he got stabbed at work.
“You don’t have to cook all the time, you know,” you point out when he slides a plate in front of you and sets a cup of coffee next to it. You can tell by the color that he did it exactly the way you like the most.
If you could get an award for being a good person, Shoji would have a record in getting gold medals.
“I know, but I like doing it. And you have enough on your mind in the mornings as is.” He points out before taking the seat opposite of you. His knee knocks against yours under the table. He doesn’t pull away.
Sometime in the last month, after making it past spending time together watching a movie and talking to each other at least once each day, it has become a thing to touch.
You had both agreed - in your weird study of what’s the difference between friends and lovers and how to find them - that touch was important. But touch was also… unfamiliar, sometimes weird, and sometimes not at all comfortable.
The solution, as Shoji had proposed, seemed pretty simple: get used to it with someone you trust. You trust him. And he seems to trust you.
- - - x x
Your face is pressed against Shoji’s shoulder. He’s incredibly warm. So warm, in fact, that you want to do nothing more but crawl into his skin and stay there.
“I don’t think that’s going to work out,” he mumbles and you have half the mind to realize that you must have thought that out loud.
“You’re a really good hugger,” you say, too tired to think of a proper compliment but not tired enough to keep quiet.
“Thanks,” he hums. “Warm now?”
“No,” you snuggle a bit further into him, “But I won’t be until my skin comes off.”
“Oh, I didn’t think of that,” he says, “Is that why you’ve been trying to scratch your back lately?”
One of his hands scratches your back at exactly the point that had been itching you all week and you groan, eyes rolling back at the absolute relief.
Shoji laughs, a quiet, comfortable sound. You want to drown in it.
He keeps scratching and you keep sinking, into him, into sleep, into this sea of comfort you call his arms.
His voice drifts around your head like clouds. You can barely make out the words.
“Would it be the wrong moment to tell you that I’m in love with you?
.
You wake up swaddled in blankets, stretched out on the Couch in the living room, no sight of Shoji.
Last night feels like a fever dream and your limbs feel heavy and hazy. When you pull your shirts off in the bathroom, a big patch of your old skin comes off too. It’s thin and leathery and you toss it in the trash, your whole body on edge.
It doesn’t hurt to shed your skin. It’s just… gross. Uncomfortable, weird.
“Weirdo, Weirdo,” the kids had called out, pointing at you when the skin around your nose started flaking off in school.
“Ugh, that’s so gross,” a girl you had called a friend took her food and got up from the table, “I can’t watch that when I’m trying to eat.”
“I’m home,” A voice calls out from somewhere behind the door and you need a minute to recognize it in the midst of all your memories.
“Bathroom,” you call back, rushing to turn the key.
If you want to come back out, you need to look normal.
- - - x x x
“I bought groceries,” Shoji says when you open the door. You glance over, relieved to see him with his face in the fridge, organizing his stuff. “Do you want to have a salad or some snack stuff first?”
“Mhm, you decide,” your voice sounds weirdly choked up and you make sure you’re at your bedroom door before he looks up.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine, totally fine, everything’s fine.” You rush to add, “Just… Forgot I had something I needed to get done today.”
The door closes behind you before he can say anything.
You lean your back against it, but there’s no relief flooding through you, just embarrassment and shame. You look hideous right now, patches of old skin still sticking to your face. You don’t want to rip it off but you can’t show yourself to Shoji like that either.
Not when you-
“Did I make you uncomfortable?”
His voice is muffled by the door, but he sounds close like he’s just on the other side of it.
“You didn’t make me uncomfortable,” you insist. It’s not his fault you’re uncomfortable all of the time.
“Are you sure? What I said…”
You halt, turn to the door as if you could face him properly that way.
“Wait, what did you say?”
“When you were falling asleep, I-” You press against the door as if that could make him speak faster. “I confessed to you.”
Time stands still. You’re pretty sure someone with a time-stopper quirk must have walked by and froze you. You cannot explain it otherwise.
It’s only when Shoji calls out your name that you realize you’re able to move, feet and all.
“Sorry, I just… I… Really?” The last word comes out a little high and broken, a little desperate and lonely, but you can’t take it back.
“Really,” he says and his tone matches yours just as perfectly as everything else he does.
You pull open the door, not at all mad to see him in your doorway, broad and safe and warm and tall, arms hovering as if he’s waiting for nothing else but to pull you in.
“Even if my face is gross?” You point at it, tears already running.
You don’t really expect him to have an answer to that. Even less that he moves to cradle your face in his hands.
“As an expert in gross faces, I don’t think your face is gross. I think it’s very cute.”
“Your face is not gross,” you claim, moving to cradle his as well. “It’s really cute.”
A smile blooms on his face. “Really?” He asks, his tone not unlike yours before.
“Really.”
-x-x-x-
“Someone’s missing,” Sato points out, a giant cake balanced in his hands. He’s counting the heads, coming up short one. “Who’s missing.”
“No one’s missing,” Tokoyami pulls back Dark Shadow before it can wreak havoc on the cake. “Shoji’s just hiding his girlfriend.”
“I’m not hiding,” you call out from where you’re curled up in Shoji’s arms, “I’m cold.”
“She’s cold,” Shoji repeats and you can’t see his face but you can hear the content smile in his voice. “I’m warming her up.”
“Don’t make me regret showing up,” Sato huffs, setting down the cake. “Don’t remind me that I’m single all the time!”
“It’s a skill issue,” Ojiro jokes, tail hanging off the empty chair next to him, “You’re the only one left.”
“The only one left?” Sato gasps. “Koji? Really? Et tu, Brute?”
Koji ducks his head, smiling. You snuggle further into Shoji and grin.
It was a good idea to set Koji up with your coworker after all.
My Kofi if you want to tip me
#my writing#shoii x reader#shoji mezo#shoji fluff#shoji x you#bnha x reader#bnha#bnha fluff#mha fluff#mha x reader#mha x you#bnha x you
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I saw that your inbox is open, and I'd like to know about your take on Price/Gaz if they have a crush on someone who's good at reading people, but not if it's about herself. Ex: she (the reader) could tell if someone is interested in him judging by their glance, but she'd be oblivious to his advances, like, he's literally giving her flowers but she thought it's just a nice gesture
hi !! thank you so much for requesting, this is such a cute idea and i’ll try my best to write it as you described hope you enjoy !! (also i’m doing gaz and price both separatly if you mean them together lmk and I can add that aswell!)
prompt- Gaz and Price with a Reader who is oblivious to there advances
Y/n was always good at reading people, she was able to tell the second a guy liked one of her friends, but for some reason when someone was interested in her she was completely oblivious…
Gaz- Gaz had been trying for months on end to make you realize his feelings for you. He first tried making small talk saying things like “How was your day?” and “What are your favorite movies?” things like that, but none of it seemed to work.
He then tried playfully flirting, making risque jokes. He thought it started to work when you'd flirt back but he quickly realized that you meant it all in a joking manner. He decided to start buying you gifts, he would pay attention to the things you’d mention like what books you’d been wanting to read, jewelry you’d shown him pictures of but nonetheless you’d thank him endlessly and hug him but he could tell you weren’t getting it.
Finally, one day Gaz knocked on your door, you answered inviting him in saying “Hey Gaz, what’s up?” to which he replied “Y/n I need your advice on something, it's about a girl.” you got all giddy and excited answering back “Oo Gaz, of course, I’d love to help you out, so who’s the lucky lady?” he let out a soft laugh before saying “Well, I’ve been giving her I fancy her for months but she just doesn't get it.” you replied “Well have you tried talking to her? Getting her gifts, flirting with her?” he then said with a smirk “Believe me I have, I just don’t know what else I can do to show her…” you sighed before saying “She sounds pretty stupid Gaz, I mean who doesn't get blunt signs like that?” he started laughing at your answer which left you puzzled asking him what was so funny, he then stated still with the same smirk on his face “Look around Y/n, The flowers in that vase I got you, The necklace I got you around your neck.” A look of realization washed across your face before you muttered out a low “You like Me?” he moved closer to you before answering “Of course I like you, I thought i’d made it pretty clear.”
You then engulfed him in a hug apologizing profusely and rambling about how much of an idiot you were,
He pulled you out of the hug still holding you close which had put a stop to your endless rambling before saying “Well at least you’re my idiot.” before softly kissing your lips.
Price- Price had fancied you since the moment he met you, but he was a gentleman. He started by buying you flowers, taking you to nice dinners, and making sure he walked you to your door after he drove you home, but you didn’t ever pursue anything more.
He first started to doubt if you liked his company or not but when you’d message him throughout his days and make plans to go out with him it left him utterly confused. He started getting you more extravagant gifts taking you to more places and talking to you whenever he had free time. Every time you seem thrilled by his advances but again you never move forward in your “relationship” with him. You however were completely clueless and had no idea he fancied you and just saw him as one of your good friends. That was until one night he called you inviting you over to his house, when you arrived rose petals were leading up to his dining room. You saw him standing there with a beautiful meal in front of you which he hadn’t prepared himself but that didn’t matter. especially not when he handed you a beautiful pair of earrings and a huge bouquet of your favorite flowers, you finally spoke out saying “Thank you so much, Price but what’s the occasion?” He answered you while pulling out your chair for you, “No occasion love, but I do need to ask you something.”
You were confused but stared into his eyes awaiting his question, he spoke out softly “Over the time I’ve known you, I’ve tried to make it obvious I fancy you, I don’t know if you don’t feel the same way or…” You interrupted him before he could finish blurting out “What..? You’re saying you like me?” he looked quite surprised answering “I thought I’d made it quite obvious love?”
A wave of emotions washed over you, and you softly answered “I’m so sorry, I had no idea, god I’m so blind” he let out a low chuckle before responding “Well that’s quite alright, I do hope you feel the same way though, if you don’t that’s alright of course.” He seemed quite scared looking at your face trying to read it, before his mind could jump to conclusions you stood up kissing him, which caught him by surprise but he quickly eased into it. After a moment you broke the kiss before replying “I feel the same, Price.” With a grin on your face.
well, I hope you enjoyed it!! This was my first request so I hope I did okay. Thank you for requesting I loved writing this and feel free to leave any and all feedback and leave more requests in the future!!
luv, luvver
#gaz x reader#gaz garrick#kyle gaz garrick#gaz cod#kyle garrick#gaz garrick x reader#cod price#cod mw2#cod x reader#cod mwii#cod mw3#cod modern warfare#cod#price#price x reader#john price#captain price#luvverslair#request#fanfic
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Practice Warm-Up for a new AU I’m planning on writing:
Your knight stood by your side as you sat on your throne. It felt odd to call it ‘your’ throne. Until a few, short days ago it had always been your father’s.
The pain of his death was still heavy in your heart, but you had to move on. Your kingdom needed to see what a strong leader you could be. However, you doubted many would care if they saw a stray tear fall on your cheek.
Your knight stiffened at your side, sword clenching in his hand as the doors before you opened.
“Sun,” you whispered. “Calm yourself, it’s just a day of hearings.”
Your knight visibly relaxed at your command but made no comment. He stared ahead, eyes locked onto the line outside the doors.
The first of the villagers approached your throne, a small farming family by the looks of it. Two children clung behind the mother's dress as they stared at you with wide, fear-stricken eyes.
“Your Majesty,” the father bowed low. “We apologize for coming to ask for your aid so soon after the previous king’s assassination. He was a benevolent king who always showed great strength and mercy to us all.”
“I appreciate your words,” you straightened, sitting taller. “I hope I can be as good and fair a ruler as he was. Now tell me, what ails your family?”
The mother stepped forward. “Our children,” she began. “They have been caught pilfering from a neighbor's garden. They are young and did not know, but our neighbor has threatened us with a demand for our crop yield next season.”
You stared at the family silently. There wasn’t much to think about for this conundrum.
“I’ll send a bag of seeds to your neighbor in your place of next season's yield. Your children are just that, children. They have much to learn and I doubt they deserve much reprimanding. Next.”
•
As evening approached it became quite obvious that you would not be able to hear everyone’s pleas for aid today. But you tried to push on despite the fact. Even as you fought to keep your eyelids open.
Sun spoke a mere whisper in your ear. “I advise you call it a day. They will return tomorrow, there's no need to keep going.”
You sighed, “Very well. Dismiss the others.”
Sun nodded obediently and left your side for the first time since you had woken up. Alone in the throne room, you slouched and ran a hand over your temple. Exhaustion clouded your mind as your eyes closed briefly.
The only reason your eyes reopened was due to the sound of the large, bronze doors closing.
Sun approached you, bowing before the throne.
You rolled your eyes. “Sun, please. You know you don't have to be so formal with me. Especially when we’re alone.” You gestured for him to come closer.
Hesitantly, he did.
He arrived at the foot of your throne, standing at his full height. Though, you could see the way his armor lightly shook and shuddered.
“Sun… Come closer, brave knight.” You patted the empty space on your lap.
The way you said his name made his knees weak. He moved without thinking, falling to his knees as his head obediently found its place in your lap. Your gentle hands ran over his faceplate, sending yet another shudder through his body.
“You’re stressed,” you noted.
Sun leaned into your touch, unwilling to let it go. “It’s nothing. How are you?” he pushed. After all, you mattered so much more than him. “You look exhausted, should you retire to the bed chamber?”
You smiled lightly. “Now why would I want to do that when I'm having so much fun right here?”
He deflated completely at your words, suddenly feeling like floating. He hung onto your every word, sought out every minuscule touch he could receive.
“And how is Moon?” you suddenly asked.
He didn't bother to look up. “Fine, fine. He's fine. Impatient. Wants the sun to set quicker.”
“Well, tell Moon that when the sun does set, he and I can go for a stroll around the castle grounds.”
Sun visibly tensed. He raised his head, fearful eyes meeting yours. “The assassin is still out there. We can't allow that. Anything else you want to do, we will. Anything,” he pleaded.
Ever since your father’s death, your two bots had been wrecks over your safety. Neither ever left your side for very long. To them, even your other knights weren't to be trusted.
Moon stood guard in your chamber at all hours of the night. Acutely aware of every noise in the castle.
Sun was practically glued to your hip during the day. One hand always rested on his sword, eyes scanning constantly.
“I’ll be fine,” you rolled your eyes. “Moon saved me last time, surely he’d be capable of doing it again.”
Sun could still recall that night perfectly. Moon had all but plucked you from your bed and carried you out of the castle as arrows flew in all directions. They bounced off his casing as he shielded your fragile, delicate human skin.
The next morning, your father was dead.
Fear consumed them all at once. Mere jesters before, a gift from your father after a voyage, and now they found themselves in your service. They didn't trust anyone else to protect you. And frankly, you didn't trust anyone more than them.
“Please,” Sun gripped your free hand. He scooted closer on his knees. “Please, we don't know what we’d do without you. Please, let us keep you safe. If you want something from the garden we will pluck every flower for you. We will bring the garden to you, safe within the walls of the castle. Please,” he begged. If he could cry, he would be. The mere thought of putting you in harm's way made his gears creak and groan.
“Perhaps you’re right.”
His shoulder relaxed, his gears calmed.
“But do tell Moon I’d like to spend more time with him, will you?”
“Oh, Highness,” Sun sighed breathily, “he already knows.”
#[r0b0.readingcircle]#dca community#fnaf sb#fnaf moon#fnaf sun#fnaf sun and moon#fnaf dca#steampunk x medieval au#sun x reader#moon x reader
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Ok but, Hangman as guy in your neighborhood, you are both back from college, he has a “she grew up hot” moment, and starts “coincidentally” mowing his lawn and washing the car at the same time she walks her dog. Summer fling, maybe 17 on the SOS prompt, really whatever you think works
Honey, Honey | Jake "Hangman" Seresin
Summary: You lose your virginity to Jake after he walks in on you.
Content warnings: SMUT (18+), female masturbation, fingering, protected p in v
Prompt: "Oh no, don't stop on my account. I'm really enjoying the view."
Author's note: I kind of got lost in the sauce while writing and didn't follow the request exactly but I hope that's okay. It still has the same girl next door trope!
This was written for my Summer of Smut writing event. Feel free to send in requests!
You had been looking forward to moving back home after college graduation for months. Going to school in California had been your dream, but you missed the way that Texas felt like home. A few of your friends stayed local after high school, so it was one of the rare moments where you were able to hang out as a group. Your San Diego apartment had been mostly vacated, but you and your roommate had decided to rent it out as an Air BnB for the summer because it was in the heart of the city.
“I think that Seresin boy might be back for a few weeks,” your mom said over dinner.
You dropped your fork on your plate and sighed. Of course she brought him up. He was about a decade older than you, and your mom was never really able to let go of the fact that you had a crush on him when you were little. When he left to join the Navy, you stayed close with his family, occasionally coming over for cookouts or playing with the littles.
“Good for him,” you grumbled out.
The Seresins were having a cookout for Memorial Day Weekend. Your parents were out of town attending a wedding of some friends. You grabbed a hard seltzer from the fridge in the garage before walking over to the neighbors. Mrs. Seresin greeted you and grabbed a lawn chair so that you could sit by the campfire.
“Wow, you really grew up,” Jake said as he plopped into a chair next to you.
“Well, I haven’t really seen you in what, ten, fifteen years? A lot of growing up happened in that time.”
“So, you in college or…?”
“Just graduated from UC San Diego, actually. I wanted to spend the summer at home before shit gets real, so here I am.”
He raised his eyebrows at the mention of San Diego.
“I’m stationed at North Island right now. It’s kind of surprising that we haven’t run into each other.”
“I don’t think it is, though. San Diego is big and I live like ten minutes from campus. So unless you’re bar hopping with a bunch of 20-year-olds, I doubt we would’ve run into each other.”
Jake chuckled in agreement and scooted closer to you. Maybe it was a combination of the summer heat and your drink, or maybe it was just Jake, but you felt a warmth in your stomach. It was almost like he wanted to kiss you, but more guests started arriving and he had to forfeit his seat to help his dad with the grill. You talked to other people in the neighborhood while eating and playing games. You didn’t realize how much you had to drink until almost everyone had left at around midnight.
“Alright, I think I’m gonna head home. Woah,” you said as you stood up and grabbed your empty can.
“Do you need someone to walk you home, honey?” Mrs. Seresin asked.
“I think I’ll be fine. It’s just right next door.”
“Okay. Well, we’re here if you need anything. There’s always someone home so feel free to come by whenever.”
“Thank you.”
Jake opened the gate for you as you left and you mumbled a thank you before heading over to your house. Maybe it was because you were desperately single, but Jake looked just as good as you remembered. Better, actually. You kicked your shoes off by the front door and reached into your bag for your earbuds. One of the network channels was doing a marathon of all of the Marvel movies, so you put that on and lay on the couch.
Jake’s mom talked him into checking in on you when they were done cleaning up the yard. He was only reluctant to go because he was sweaty and tired from being outside for most of the day. What he didn’t expect though, was to walk into your house and hear you moaning. You couldn’t see him because the back of the couch was towards the back door, and you couldn’t hear him because you had your earbuds in.
“Oh my God!” You gasped. Your hand was still in your shorts but you were too busy freaking out about the fact that Jake `had just walked in on you to worry about that.
“Oh no, don’t stop on my account. I’m really enjoying the view,” he said. He stood in front of you and nudged your legs open before taking your hand out of your shorts. His calloused hand replaced your smooth one and you pulled him closer to you before moaning.
“You’re so beautiful,” he said before leaning in for a kiss. It was a clash between tongues and teeth as he got you off and slowed his pace.
“I-I’ve never-,”
“What?”
You sighed as you looked at the cocky smirk on his face.
“Jake, I’m a virgin.”
“Wait, really? How? Look at you. You’re hot.”
“I’ve done other stuff but I’ve never… y’know.”
“Do you want to?”
You felt the blood rush to your cheeks before you looked at your feet.
“With you? Yeah. Why? Is that bad?”
“Bad? Hey, don’t be shy. We can do this but only if you want to.”
“I want to.”
“Alright. Where’s your room?”
You stared at him in confusion.
“You’re not losing your virginity on a couch. At least let me be proper about it.”
You nervously led him up the stairs and to your room. You moved to California pretty much right after graduating highschool, so not much had changed. It still looked like a teenager’s room because you were usually home from college for a week or two at a time. You weren’t particularly embarrassed about it until now, with the lilac colored walls and stuffed animals everywhere.
“Um, I’m not here all the time. Here, let me…”
Jake watched as you cleared the bed of your stuffed animals and throw pillows. He was trying not to laugh. You turned to him and smiled once you lit the cinnamon roll scented candle on your dresser. He sat you on the bed and started to kiss you before laying you down and taking your shorts off. You couldn’t help but grind yourself against him, and both of you groaned at the feeling. A wet spot was starting to form on the crotch of his grey basketball shorts and you could see the outline of his cock.
“I gotta get you ready,” he whispered into your ear as he tugged your panties off and started to finger you. You writhed in his arms as he got you closer to your release, and he slowly pulled his fingers out of you before grabbing his wallet and taking out a condom.
You looked at him with wide eyes once he took his shorts and boxers off. His cock hit his chest and he was huge. You were kind of able to guess, since he was well built and athletic, but you were still intimidated by the size.
“I’ll go slow. Tell me if you want me to stop, okay?”
“Okay.”
You let out a gasp as he started to enter you. He could tell that you were tense with pain, so he leaned down and kissed you while moving one of your legs to rest on his hip. You let out a cry when he was fully inside of you.
“I’m sorry. Are you hurt? Do you want me to stop?”
“I… No, I don’t want you to stop but it hurts a little.”
“That’s normal. Here, let me move you so that you’re on top. You’ll have more control.”
“Okay.”
Jake guided himself into you and put his knees up so that he could help you ride him. With his hands on your hips, you were quickly bouncing on his cock. He knew that he wasn’t going to last much longer with the way you were moaning his name, and you could see it in his eyes. So it wasn’t much of a surprise when he pulled your hips down and stilled inside of you. He rolled the two of you over while he was still inside and started to rub your clit while going through the motions of the rest of his orgasm. He grunted in your ear when you came around him and slowly pulled out of you after a few moments.
“Where’s your bathroom? I’m gonna get a towel and clean you up,” he said. You sat up and looked at him as he walked to your bedroom door.
“Right across the hall. Did I bleed?”
“A little, but it’s nothing to worry about. I’ll be right back.”
Jake was gone for a lot longer than you thought he would be. You were somewhat surprised when he finally walked back into your room with two glasses of water and a damp washcloth in his hands. The washcloth was warm, too. He threw the washcloth in your hamper when he was done and climbed in the bed next to you.
“You’re staying the night?” You asked.
“I can leave if you want me to.”
“No, it’s fine. I kind of like this,” you said as you scooted into his arms.
“So, do you plan on staying in San Diego when you get back?”
“Yeah. I have a job lined up and everything. Why?”
“I wanna take you on a date sometime. I know a few good spots.”
“Sure. Wait, how long are you in town for?”
“Another week and a half.”
“We could just go out while we’re both here. Get the first date out of the way, y’know.”
“Your mom would freak if I picked you up, though.”
“Okay, get your head out of the 1950’s. We’re both adults who can drive. It’ll be fine. Plus I’m pretty sure my mom has wanted me to get with you since I transferred to UC San Diego. She’d probably be popping champagne if she found out about all of this, honestly.”
“Well, it’s good to hear that I’ve already got mom’s approval.”
You laughed and grabbed your phone before turning your lamp off. You fell asleep listening to some ocean sounds. When you woke up, Jake was smiling and scrolling through social media. He put his phone down and hugged you before going to make breakfast. He gave you his phone number before leaving. You were a giggly mess as you laid back on the couch and texted your closest friends about the events that had happened the night before.
Taglist:
@littlebadariell @cycbaby @luckyladycreator2 @idontcare-11 @blue-aconite @maverick-wingman @shawty-fenty @littlemisstopgun @rosiahills22 @katieshook02 @justanothermagicalsara @caitsymichelle13 @smoothdogsgirl @adoringsebstan @cherrycola27 @alexxavicry @mrsjaderogers @mak-32 @thefandomimagines @tallrock35 @caatheeriinee07 @bradshawseresinbabe @atarmychick007 @3sriracha @genius2050 @halstead-severide-fan
#hangman x reader#hangman smut#jake seresin x reader#jake hangman seresin#x reader#top gun maverick#reader insert#top gun#callsign joyride's summer of smut
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The Winner Takes It All
Episode 12
Pairing: Finnick Odair x Tribute(OC)!Reader
Chapter Warnings: this might be the saddest one... or maybe I'm delusional and it can only get worse from here. Anyways, death, canon typical violence, drowning, my sweet baby Lukas is trying his best as always... oh yeah a hUGE AMOUNT OF ANGST
Chapter Summary: This is the endgame, there are four tributes remaining. Who will live, and who will die? The choice has never been up to the tributes.
Word Count: 3.8k
my live action cinderella dress (movie accurate) is finally done so expect me to have a lot more editing time. I will also probably have more writing time so expect some endings to unfinished series.
“He had f-feelings for me?” Lukas was dumbfounded. The poor kid didn’t even get to tell you. He tried to speak, opened his mouth to do so, but froze upon not knowing what he could possibly say in response. Maybe just start with the truth. “He did,” his head fell when the words finally escaped. “I’m sorry, he wanted to tell you.”
You’d been silent. Not quiet, but absolutely silent. Lukas didn’t try to make you be anything else… but he did have to keep you moving. It wasn’t much later in the day, but the sun was already setting. The minimal amounts of light only being shown through the small openings of the tree canopy. It was harder to tell where you were going. Nothing looked the same as it did yesterday, or the day before. You could swear you’d walked through here to get to the stream, but the path had somewhat changed along the way.
As drowned in your thoughts as you’d been right after it happened, your entire body, including your brain, had been numbed to Rodey’s death. His blood was still on your hands. Figuratively and literally. You didn’t stare at it too long, forgetting to let your gaze linger on anything except the path ahead, and Lukas, who was three steps in front of you.
You both were half of the remaining tributes. It was a miracle you both had made it this far, but now that the numbers had dwindled, there were two other tributes left who were hunting the both of you. It was better to keep moving than to sit like a duck and let one of them take their victory.
The longer you went without finding the stream, your need for freshwater had grown exponentially. It was strange how the past few days it would rain for hours, but now that you actually needed water it ceased to exist… in a literal rainforest. That was the peak behavior of a game maker, to play sinisterly.
“We can stop here for now. Maybe if I can get up one of these trees I’ll be able to spot the stream again.”
You barely minded what he was saying, giving a small nod to at least show you heard him. You didn’t care much to speak anymore, not even to the person who you felt the most patience from. He was doing fine without the constant dialogue of the days before, and you knew he’d be fine without it till the end. He was going to win, there was no doubt in your mind. You’d thought that perhaps it could be him or Rodey, but Rodey died saving you. Now you would do the same for Lukas, whenever the situation finally came.
You sat down, back against a tree trunk and head dropped forward, eyes making an instant connection with the dried blood on your body. Even if you scrubbed at yourself for hours, there was no chance you could get rid of it all. You have the blood of two allies on your hands, now. That’s as many as you’re willing to have.
Lukas had set down his pack, starting to climb the roots and knots of the tree’s enormous base, when a tiny parachute descended straight towards him. You looked up when you heard the familiar sound it made, watching it fall into the boy’s hands.
“Head’s up,” he called, tossing you one of two canteens full of water. You took it gratefully, beginning to drink up as much as you could take.
Lukas smiled before looking down to the note included.
Talk to her for me, tell her it’s not her fault. - F
He sighed, trying to come up with any ideas on what he could possibly say. There’s no way to know if she’ll even be open to a conversation. There’s no indicator that she even wants to speak at all. But this is a sponsor that keeps them from having to exhaust their resources, and Finnick asked for something simple in return. He doesn’t understand why Finnick is so dead set on coddling you in this arena. It’s not like things are going to get any better from here. It’s an absolute fact that the time can only become worse, until everyone meets their end but one.
But against his logic, and against what his brain is telling him, his gut wants to follow his mentor’s instructions… So he does.
He sits beside you at the base of the tree, his own canteen in hand and his pack in the other.
“Listen, I know you don’t wanna talk about it,” he assumed, given the fact that you’ve literally said nothing since it happened. “But what happened, it wasn’t your fault. You know that, right?”
You reasoned with the scene over in your head, and the only way it didn’t end the same way is if he didn’t choose to jump in front of you. It was hard to think about, because you feel responsible. He wouldn’t have jumped if you weren’t there. But if you weren’t there, she’d only have him to charge at. It all ends the same every time. He was faster than you, braver than you. He would have stepped time and again, and you couldn’t stop him.
“He s-saved me. It was f-for me.”
“I know.”
You closed your canteen and let it roll out of your hands and onto the ground next to you, curling your legs to your chest and trying to comfort yourself. You really didn’t want to talk about it, but if he was adamant for you to do so, it was going to be on your terms.
He seemed to be stumbling for more words, and only came across some having rambled a thought from his head.
“I wish he’d never told you…”
“T-told me what?”
He hadn’t caught onto the fact that you had no idea what he was talking about. So like a dumbass, he kept going.
“About his feelings for you. I told him a few days ago it could only hurt you. Then again I also told him it was a good idea so I guess we were both stupid,” his rambling of a response made your eyes widen in both shock and anger.
“He had f-feelings for me?”
Lukas was dumbfounded. The poor kid didn’t even get to tell you. He tried to speak, opened his mouth to do so, but froze upon not knowing what he could possibly say in response. Maybe just start with the truth.
“He did,” his head fell when the words finally escaped. “I’m sorry, he wanted to tell you.”
For some reason, this information didn’t hurt you as much as it should. Instead, it angered you. How could he possibly have been so stupid to sacrifice himself in the name of feelings for someone he’d only recently met? How could he have given up a possible win, just to show his devotion. Had it been an instinctual move of protection, you could have accepted it… but no.
“I s-should be dead r-right now. All these p-people around me, dropping l-like flies. And I’m still h-here.”
“Don’t say things like that. Look, I get it. You feel responsible…”
You nodded, because yes, you absolutely did. Your ally’s blood is on your hands, and no matter how many times you scrub it away, it will always be there.
“But I feel responsible for you. I’d rather it be any of them than you, understand?” He finished off, his look of seriousness piercing yours of confused emotion. Sadness, anger, guilt. Probably more, but you can’t identify them.
You nodded, but his words didn’t make you feel any better. If anything it just made things worse. He was still trying to protect you, and you couldn’t stand losing one more ally. Especially not him. He had to be the one to make it out of here. You’d been thinking about it so much more the past several hours, now that only four remain. You’ve only gotten this far because of your allies, but now they are almost gone. It’s on the verge of every man for himself, but you know Lukas won’t let you die on your own. If it comes down to the two of you, you have every intention of throwing yourself from the top of a tree so he can go home. You don’t think you’ll survive the other two tributes, however.
“You’re g-going to win, y’know.”
He sighed, looking at the ground and shrugging. Maybe they are true, the things that you say. He just hopes they aren’t.
“I’m not so sure anymore. If I were a gambling man, I’d have to put money on you.”
“Well then it’s a g-good thing you don’t gamble,” you smiled, trying to expel every other feeling you had, and only hold onto one emotion at a time. The air was light, just around the two of you. Old friends, fighting for their lives, but they can still make the other smile, or laugh. It’s simply what friends can do.
Lukas hopes that he doesn’t leave this arena without you. He is praying to anyone that can hear his thoughts that if he watches you die, he’ll die too. It’s not like he has anything to go back to, anyway.
“Promise m-me something, for when you get h-home?” You asked, his curiosity piqued. “Promise me that you’ll take care of m-my family. My brother, make sure he d-doesn’t ever have his name in the bowl more than it h-has to be.”
He smiled. He hadn’t even thought about his own family, his mother. Probably because he didn’t consider her to be so, anymore.
“I promise, if I get out of here, I will.”
“T-thank you, Lukas.”
He leaned against you, his head resting on the tree while your own head was on his shoulder. You’d be perfectly content with dying if you could just drift away like this. Everything now was peaceful, and you’d left no stones unturned. Your family would be taken care of if Lukas lived, you know he’s good on his word. You know that having spoken with him, and even sitting here with him now, you will have resolved everything with him. There’s nothing else you need to know… except-
“Lukas?”
“Yeah?”
“W-why did you volunteer?”
He took a deep inhale beside you, then went stiff as the reasoning coursed through his mind. He could lie and say it was an impulsive mistake. He could come up with literally a million other things that would sound plausible for any kid on why they would do something so stupid. But he wasn’t any kid, and you weren’t just some bystander. You were his best friend. Either of you could die any moment, so he wanted to make sure you got nothing but the truth.
“The morning of the reaping, my mom and I had that argument,” he recalled. You nodded along, remembering the scene vividly. He hadn’t been himself until he’d gotten on a boat. The water always seemed to calm him down. “I’d been feeling better after work, but I went home to shower and get dressed.”
He stopped for a moment, his brow furrowing as he tried to bring it all back into recollection. The nasty look on his mother’s face, the way she swore at him and spewed her insanity. Thinking back to it now, him volunteering is just what she wanted. It would have been better to refuse volunteering out of spite.
“She told me I would never measure up to my father, and that there was no point in trying. When I asked her what she wanted from me, she told me she wished I had died in his place.”
Your hand immediately found his in a tight and reassuring grip when you heard this. It was just like his mother to go off and say some shit like that. Something that would scar him the rest of his life and force him to go immeasurable lengths, and for what?
“I told her I would volunteer if she wanted me dead so badly. She said I might as well, because it would be the only way to bring some pride back to our family. The sad thing is, I didn’t regret it until they called your name…”
“I’m s-so sorry,” you whispered to him, barely heard above the humming and buzzing of the rainforest. You clung to him, hoping that this could bring the smallest semblance of comfort in a place that exudes horror and danger. He clung right back to you, being still in your embrace as it was one of normalcy. He wasn’t sure how much longer he’d be able to hug you, or look at you, or talk to you. Even simply being in your presence wasn’t something he was going to take for granted, because he knew that soon, he would never be able to again, whichever way it went.
-
The day continued on, and the sun was setting much faster than you would ever anticipate. Probably because it wasn’t a real sun, and any glimpse of normalcy was non-lasting. It couldn’t be, because there had to be reminders that this was not the wilderness, and you were not safe. You would die any second. There were only four tributes remaining. You could imagine that things were getting tense back in the capitol. You couldn’t imagine the kid from eleven had garnered much of a fan base with Lukas being the prized tribute this year. You doubted the girl from one was getting any special attention, either. Not that they needed it. Estelle was most definitely the most qualified remaining tribute, a career who has trained for this moment all her life… but still, you’re sure Lukas will win it from her.
While walking in the marshy rainforest, you’re quickly reminded how easily this game can end.
You hear a branch snap a bit down the trail behind you, and you freeze.
“Lukas…” you whisper, drawing the knife from your hip.
He heard another branch, and turned his head, the boy named Brock from eleven quickly approaching, with Estelle on his heels. Whether or not she was chasing him, no one could be sure, but they both had a determined look in their eye, and all it took was one word for you to bolt ahead like lightning.
“Run.”
The branches below you snapped in half, the pressure of your rapid footsteps was intense enough to squash any animal or snake that dared slither into your path.
You could hear Lukas’ hard breath intake, as he was passing you every few seconds, then trailing a step behind, only to look back and make sure they weren’t gaining too quickly… except for they were. This was going to end in a face off, whether you liked it or not. You couldn’t run forever, and it was just a matter of time. You were ready to die, and you would protect Lukas.
You tripped over your steps, holding your hand out to stop Lukas in his tracks before he fell.
Well, at least you’d found the waterfall. The only downside is, you were at the top of it, having run onto a ledge that was at least a thirty foot drop into deep waters, raging from the pressure of the falls. There was no way you were making that jump without drowning. You’d probably have a heart attack on the way down and die before hitting the water.
“W-what do we do?” You turned to your counterpart, and he whipped his head back at the two approaching tributes.
“We’ve gotcha, now!” Estelle could be heard shouting, the sound getting far too close for comfort. It was now evident that they had been teamed up on this effort. “Nowhere to run!”
Lukas yanked your arm, pulling you beside him.
“Do you trust me?” he asked sincerely, the look in his eyes made you scared, like he was thinking irrationally, and he was… but it was all he could come up with.
“Yes,” you nodded, but grabbed his hand which was still on your arm. “Lukas?”
He didn’t even hesitate. He didn’t answer your call of his name. He didn’t even give you a second to understand what the hell he was about to do. He just did it.
Within a moment, gravity became your enemy, and you went flying backwards off the edge of the cliffside, arms and legs flailing as you screamed all the way down into the waters. You sucked in a quick breath before being fully submerged, hammered down by the constant onslaught of heavy water.
Lukas took off, running away while the others were distracted by your fall into the depths. He ran towards the forest again, trying to jump logs and dodge trees, anything that could make their path to him harder.
Brock was still looking over the edge, having been surprised by the play of events.
“Let’s go, we can’t let him get far,” Estelle pulled him by the shoulder, turning him to the rainforest patches again.
“What about the girl?”
Estelle scoffed, “We’ll hear a cannon in a few minutes, she can’t swim.”
And with that, they took off.
Immediately being in water, the panic set into your mind. You were clawing around, trying to make it out, reaching out for anything that you could use to pull yourself up… but with the pressure beating down over you, you sank deeper, and deeper, with no savior to jump in after you, now. This was it. This was the moment you had to choose.
Live, or Die.
Last time you chose to die, but there was nothing on the line. Lukas is on the line now. He is the only person you swore you were going to protect in this arena, and you had to find a way out of here if that was going to happen.
You tried to quiet your mind, to forget the past and just how much you hated being in this water. You were ignoring just how badly your arms ache while attempting to paddle to the surface. You forgot it all and remembered the boy you’ve known since childhood. You remembered all the times he stood up for you against the kids mocking your stutter. You remembered just how much he’s done for you and is still doing for you… and suddenly, your head breaks through the surface, and you’re able to crawl into the small cavern behind the waterfall.
You start heaving breaths, rapidly letting the air tear through your lungs, now that they had access to air in the first place. You smiled to yourself once you were able to get high enough on the rocks to stand. You survived. You’d been dealt a hand that was completely out of your favor and you managed to climb out and breathe the air around you.
Your excitement was immediately cut off when you heard a cannon sound.
You didn’t waste a minute in climbing the rocks as fast as you could, albeit a little clumsy from having wet hands and shoes. Your mind raced, and you hoped that your heart pounding would be eased, and you would be wrong about your suspicions.
“No, n-no,” you shook your head, running into the rainforest and looking around frantically. You took several turns, and couldn’t see anything or anyone, but you had your knife drawn anyway. You were practically panting by now, the heaviness in your breath never dwindling.
The minute you came to a clearing, your eyes falling on the person in front of you, your eyes watered with tears.
“Lukas,” you slid down to your knees next to his limp frame, pulling him into your lap to hold him. “Wake up. W-wake up, Lukas, I’m h-here.”
He didn’t budge, but as you rocked him, you were able to see the source of this tragedy, the trail of blood, streaming from his chest and over his body in gushes. It was all over your hands, and it was all over your arms. It was all over you. You were covered in his blood, just like you were covered in Rodey’s dried blood. You’d let another ally sacrifice themselves for you. You swore you wouldn’t.
This wasn’t just another ally, and this wasn’t just a tribute you’d met a week ago. This was the best friend you’d ever had. The person who grew up alongside you into a wonderful man. He was the person who comforted you when you felt too embarrassed to go to a family member. He was the boy who’d complimented you when no other boy would dare. He was the one who brought you shells every morning from his walk to the docks. And now he is the boy who’s blood you are covered in, crying over miserably.
You can’t bring yourself to part with him, to let him go. You know if you do, something different will become of you. Something you have never been before. So you don’t. You cling to him, and you cry, and you let the thunder that begins to rumble above you reflect your emotion. It’s been a day since it’s rained in this rainforest, but even still, the rain doesn’t pour, it only trickles slightly. Enough to remind you that despite this loss, and despite the fact that you will never be the same, you are still in this arena, and there is only one way out.
You raise your head, and hear another sound of a cannon. You look around, but there is no sign of movement or of other tributes.
There’s only one left, and despite what you’ve said since the moment you entered this God forsaken place, despite your morals, and despite these tributes not being your real enemy, there is only one thing on your mind, and you will not rest until you’ve attained it…
As you move to stand, you roll Lukas’ body on his back, placing his hands over his chest to be at rest. You hate that this is how his story ends. You want to bury him, you want to give him a proper memorial, but you know this arena will be scrapped by the capitol for next year’s use, and this spot will be desecrated soon after you arrange it. So you’ve decided you will raise a memorial of him back home, when you arrive there.
Your tears are still running hot, but there’s a new fire under them that hadn’t been there before. There’s an anger you’ve never felt before. There’s a glint in your eyes that will not be satisfied.
You turn your head at the familiar sound of an incoming parachute, the contents of the container seem to be large, as there’s an entire box being lowered in. You watch it fall to the ground, in disbelief at the sheer size of it alone. It comes up to about your knees, and you wonder, what could Finnick have sent me?
You flick open the top, and immediately see the contents of the inside. Rope, lots and lots of rope. Several carabiners are included that could be used for rock climbing, but you know, and he knows, that’s not what you have in mind.
You pick up the note, two little wet spots appearing from the tears in your eyes, and the rain from above.
Show no Mercy… - F
-
tags(open): @thepassionatereader @i-voluntears @secretsicanthideanymore @mystargirl-interlude @c4ttheart @lilibrn
#finnick imagine#finnick odair imagine#finnick odair thg#thg finnick#finnick odair#finnick x reader#finnick odair x reader#finnick x you#hunger games#sam claflin x reader#sam claflin
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Hi Alcibiade!
This was actually halfway through as a reply to a comment you gave me, but it got long and I felt like I should write it down properly, so I'm sending it here.
There is no doubt that you have a great sense of design, and I actually feel that I have much to learn from what you've drawn. I admire your sense of balance, creating an impression of the whole while still having a little fun with the details.
When I was in art prep school, my teacher said that a good art is one that the viewer's eyes can't stop moving to different points on the canvas, and I feel that feeling from your art. I feel that your art is not something that people look at for a moment and then lose interest in, but something that people's eyes stay on.
As always, I am very much looking forward to the art you will be posting! 💖
Hi Asaka! I hope you're doing well ^-^
First of all, thank you for taking the time to respond to me like this ! You're always so polite and kind, I hope that I don't look like a total savage from your point of view because of some lack of politeness on my side. x')
I am extremely flattered and thankful of what you said here !! <3 I got on tumblr to be able to exchange thoughts and share about my interests with people online through my drawing posts, and I'm so glad to see that you like my posts, exchange with me and have so many things to share yourself! I want to thank you a thousand times for all these conversations and for your wonderful compliments!! 💖💖💖
Before I got on tumblr, I was drawing everything by hand and I was lacking of patience and some sense of perfectionism. Sharing things on the internet really helped me with that, because I always felt like people enjoyed my posts when I put my heart in it, so I don’t post much but I try to draw things that can be enjoyable for people who will find it ! From that perspective, I feel like I have a lot to learn from the way you draw and your love for pretty details ! And when I draw with ink and paper again, I really see the improvement. x)
You are a very kind person and the comments you leave me always cheer me on, and it always gives me a lot of motivation, so I’m really glad to hear that you appreciate my art like that ! You were here from the start of this blog and it really means a lot to me ^^ I hope that I don’t take too much space when I leave comments or anything, please always feel free to not answer me if you don’t feel like it, it’s never going to be a problem, of course. :)
Here is a small bonus, because I wanted to add a drawing to this response x) ! I’m still working on my MariAli comic, so I’ll probably make another post about it soon !
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would you like to dump all your thoughts, headcanons, rambles, and yaps about dom? (i luv letting people yap and i love dom)
Y-yeah I’d like that.
Most of my headcanons and rambles have already been drafted into future posts, so I’m just gonna yap about them for a lil bit lol.
I genuinely did not expect to get as attached to these twins as I did. Hell, I remember when their beta designs dropped, I thought they looked lame. But then the spin-off came out and I was like ‘oh, they’re alright actually’ and then I kept rewatching the episode because I’m cripplingly addicted to this show and slowly I just grew more and more fond of them. Dom specifically. (Faye’s amazing too but Dom hits different.)
And then the second episode came out, and I started thinking more and more about them, which spiraled into a million headcanons and a whole damn backstory and my gallery looking like this-
And I basically did to them what I did to Drew: I took all the pieces canon gave me and filled in the rest with my imagination to make two little scrimblos I can more easily write about and analyze. (Normal things hot girls do.✨)
And I find it funny how Dom has managed to capture my attention just as much as Drew has, when he’s probably a character Drew would bully like RELENTLESSLY. (I have two scenarios of this: one being Drew calling Dom’s sweater stupid and childish while Dom’s like “At least mines not all plain and basic!” and then they argue for like two minutes OR Drew actually gets to something Dom’s insecure about or says something like “Oh my God, could you shut up for once in your life? No one fucking cares what you have to say. You’re annoying and if you spent the rest of life with your mouth glued shut I doubt anyone would care. It’d be better off for everyone.” And Dom actually goes silent and then he’s like REALLY hesitant about saying anything for two weeks- wait I made myself sad writing that FUCK.)
ANYWAYS I genuinely don’t really know WHY I’m so attached to Dom right now. He’s literally just a carrot, with about 5 minutes of screen time. Half of his lines are about squirrels and birds, and yet I’d trade my DAMN SOUL for him. HE’S SO FUCKING CUTE. (Maybe it’s because of the lack of backstory and relative mystery. I love me a character I gotta piece together like a puzzle. Or maybe it’s his voice Ireallylikehisvoice-)
But yeah, I’m obsessed with him and it makes me really sad how I’ve barely been able to find any content of him. Like there’s literally no fanfiction, and barely any art. Which I guess makes sense, they’re supporting characters with not much to them, but still, it makes me sad. (BUT IM WORKING TO CHANGE THAT WITH MY FANFIC WIPS AND DRAWING DRAFTS!)
And it sucks too, because I doubt they’re gonna play much of a role in S2. They’re probably gonna fade into obscurity, and I’ll never be able to learn about their backstories or potential mental issues. (Which I ALSO HAVE A POST ABOUT-)
I think going forward, I’m gonna try and post a little more about Dom and Faye, at least for now. I’m still Drew blog obviously, Drew’s still my personality unfortunately, but I really want to try and use my blog to sort of promote them, I guess? I want to share what I see in them, and I want to feed the Dom and Faye fans that are just as starved as me.
Anyways TLDR: I just like Dom a lot. He deserves the world. (I say as I discreetly shove him into the blender of suffering turn it onto high.)
#tmf#the music freaks#freakblr#tmf dominic#tmf dom#thank you thank you thank you for asking this omg#im glad u like dom too I have like five drafts of him I need to post
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Dark&Wild (4) When You Realized No One Was Coming To Save You
You are an interpreter for international idols, but you soon realized their lavish lifestyle came at a cost, and somehow you became the price. The man who came to collect had a special kind of vendetta, and you, so foolishly, sparked his interest.
Sorry for the delay, I was on my last edit and literally that night I tested positive for C0VlD :') but I'm back now and feeling a lot better
yandere loan shark!Yoongi x blind!reader x bodyguard!Jungkook x idol singer!Jimin x idol rapper!Namjoon x idol singer!Taehyung x detective!Hoseok x detective!Seokjin
TW: 18+ only, violence, guns, hostage, dubcon/noncon, reader manipulation, mind break, drugging, blowjob, reader is blinded before events that take place in the story, Jimin is an addict, Yoongi is a sadist
---
Namjoon laid sprawled out on his bed, a pen twirling between his fingers, as you listened to his unfinished songs. He was always impressed at how you could pick up even the slightest changes in the melody. Tonight was no different, Joon was working on a couple of different beats, rapping over the high and punchy part of the melody, his deep voice acting as such a unique contrast. He’s repeated the same bars so many times, you start to whisper the last word of each bar with him.
“Cute.”
“Hmm?”
“Last show is tomorrow,” he grunts, scribbling lyrics down in his notebook.
You hum, “What’s wrong? You don’t sound happy about it.”
“You know how everyone is so excited for tour to end, but I...” he pauses, “can’t help but start feeling sentimental. This show could be our last…ever.”
“Hmm, yeah, but I doubt it,” you laugh, “If that song is going to be your next release, you’re going to have another amazing tour to look forward to.”
“Thanks,” Namjoon hesitates. “You’re not just saying that to make me feel better?” he asks accusingly.
You snort, “Nah. Whatever makes people stars, you’ve always had it. You’re that good, Joon,” you smile.
Namjoon closes his laptop, taking a seat next to you on his couch instead. He stretches out, arm lying over you. You lean into each other, not for anything other than comfort. It’s late, and you both should be tired, but jitters were always too high the night before a concert, and as neither of you liked using pharmaceutical or even herbal means to find respite, you relaxed with each other.
His finger ticks and touches your cheek, staying, arm pulling you in. “You’re being sweet,” Namjoon says, not fully convinced, “Jimin finally confess his undying feelings for you?”
You laugh, “Yeah right.” Jimin is probably holed up with a groupie as you speak. “I guess I am just feeling sentimental.” You tease, cuddling into his side.
Namjoon hums the melody in his head, fingers tapping on his cell, working through more lyrics. Having your warmth by his side relaxed him enough to work through the complicated rhyme schemes even on nights likes these. He would never admit it, but you were his muse.
“If that next tour does happen, I think…I’ll finally have enough,” you whisper, hopeful. Your quiet elation does not go unnoticed by Joon.
“I could write you a check for what you’re missing tonight, if you would just let me-”
“I want to earn the money on my own.”
“I want to earn the money on my own,” Joon teases at the same time, repeating the line you always say when he offers. You hit him playfully. “I know, but you’re so close! And then you’ll finally be able to see us perform!” Namjoon gets excited for you at the thought.
You laugh, leaning your chin on his chest. You wish you could see his face when you look up. “I would love that. But you also know I can’t do that.”
Namjoon sighs, you were too prideful of a woman. He couldn’t help but be enamored, it was one attribute in long list of things about you that annoyed him and made him admire you. But Namjoon had some tricks up his sleeves, you deserved a couple of “bonuses,” especially after such a successful tour, and especially because Namjoon couldn’t live with himself if he didn’t use some of his newly acquired wealth at his disposal to help out a friend.
That is where your memory of that night ends, you fell asleep against him, lulled by his soft humming, feeling safe in his arms. But your dream kept going…
“Once you get your sight back, what did you want to see first?” Namjoon asks.
You think. “I want to call my little sister, see what she looks like now,” you smile sadly.
“It will happen,” Namjoon holds you tighter. You nod.
“Is it conceited that I want to see what I look like now too?” you laugh into his embrace. “Actually see how my makeup looks like…see how bad I’ve been doing it all these years,” you giggle.
“No. Y/n...you’re beautiful.”
You laugh again, softer this time in disbelief. “Okay, now you are trying to make me feel better.”
His other hand moves from the couch to your thigh, surprising you. Namjoon shifts himself against you, head moving closer until you feel something soft against your lips-
You flinch, awake.
Yoongi’s hand pulls away from your mouth. “Good morning, little mouse.”
Sixty-three meals you’ve eaten alone in this room.
That meant it was twenty-one days without anyone to talk to, without sunlight, without a proper bath...
“Mr. Min?”
WHEN YOU REALIZED NO ONE WAS COMING TO SAVE YOU
“He says he’s honored that you came on short notice, Thailand welcomes you.”
‘Who is this man who thinks he speaks for an entire country?’ you think, already annoyed. No matter how upset you are, you are a professional. You keep the emotion out of your voice, translating exactly what was being said.
Yoongi grunts, walking with you loosely holding his elbow. “You’re not going to say anything back?”
You’re met with silence.
‘Ugh,’ you suppress the urge to roll your eyes. Translating for Yoongi was worlds apart from the charismatic idols.
‘Whatever,’ this is not a broadcast appearance, you didn’t have to impress anyone, especially not Mr. Min and his accomplices.
You listen to the stranger speak about the expansion of his establishments, how grateful he is for Yoongi’s loan, and his plans to open more locations across Thailand. You translate with minimum enthusiasm, quite the contrast to this stranger’s cloying excitement.
“Each new location will meet your requirements for trade,” you say in a monotone voice, ready to get this over with.
You walk through another room and are immediately assaulted with the thick smell of smoke, you grip his arm tighter. “And the border issues?” Yoongi asks.
“It’s been taken care of. You have the support of-” you swallow, stuttering while translating the man’s words, “-the Prime Minister.”
You hear the scrape of chairs and Yoongi abandons you, pulling out his own chair and taking a seat. You reach out for him until your fingers graze the familiar material of his jacket, holding onto his shoulder. His hand lands on top of yours squeezing in Morse code. Not only does his hand never leave yours, he interlaces your digits together.
You hear glass clinking together, the pour of alcohol while the men drink. “A few of my men will stay here to make sure the operation goes smoothly during our transition.”
“Jeon?”
“Just translate, girl.”
Even if you were angry, hated him, wanted to grab whatever bottle was on the table and smash it across Yoongi’s head, you were always the professional. You repeat his words in Thai, waiting for the man’s response.
“He says of course, great idea,” you resist the urge to roll your eyes. “I have to go to the bathroom.”
“Hold it.”
“I can’t-”
“You will regret it if you don’t shut up and just translate.”
The man looks between the both of you exchanging tense words, noticing Yoongi’s growing annoyance. “Is um everything okay?” he asks in Thai. “I have to go to the bathroom,” you answer him in Thai.
“What did you just tell him,” Yoongi’s tone changes only slightly, but enough for you to know he’s furious with you.
“Oh! Yes, my men can escort you there,” he stands up, snapping his fingers to hurry his men to move. Yoongi’s fingers tighten around your own.
“He says his men can take me to the bathroom,” you translate, feeling triumphant. Just get away from him, if there is even a one percent chance of escape, take it, y/n! C’mon, Yoongi should have known, really, that you would never go along with his plans…
Yoongi has a choice to make and very little time. He could tell Jungkook to go with you, one of the few men Yoongi trusted would be able to handle you without causing a commotion, but Jungkook was also one of the few men Yoongi trusted with his life, Yoongi needs him by his side.
Yoongi’s paranoia, which only grew stronger and vindicated the more powerful he became, was not going to let his most loyal man follow after a belligerent blind girl.
And Yoongi’s reputation is on the line. If he loses his temper and starts fighting with you how would that look? Yoongi has to tread lightly, he has to remain in charge.
He looks over to Choi, a young and ambitious recruit looking to prove himself to the man in charge. All Yoongi has to do is tilt his head and the man rushes towards your side along with a hesitant bar employee.
This establishment was not only a popular tourist bar but provided an ideal cover for moving money in and out of the country, a way for some notable politicians to embezzle their finances into offshore accounts controlled by Yoongi’s company. If you had the connections like Yoongi, it all became a pretty efficient operation.
Yoongi was building an empire and a little blind mouse wasn’t going to scurry her way in the middle of it and scare away the elephants in the room.
“You have five minutes.”
You will regret this.
---
“What’s this place called?” you ask in Thai.
“Moonlight Blue.”
You feel something sharp against your side and a man speaking in Korean to keep quiet and keep moving. The bartender brings you to the bathroom, wearily offering you instructions, surprised when Yoongi’s man follows you inside. He could only assume they were being overprotective of you because you were a woman.
“Can I not get any privacy at all?” you hiss.
“Don’t act like you aren’t up to something.”
“What am I going to do, huh?” you wave your hands dramatically in front of your face.
You hear the cock of a gun. You’ve lost count at how many times you’ve heard it since being taken. “Use the bathroom or I will shoot a hole in your head.”
“Shoot me,” you reply, knowing him killing you would go directly against what Mr. Min wanted. “You think I want to be here translating? Do it, please, I rather die than have to deal with men like you-”
You’re pushed backward, hitting wall and porcelain. You try to reorient yourself too late, crashing onto the ground, and before you can stand back on your feet, Choi is doing it for you, hitting you hard in the stomach so you double forward, with another hard jab against your cheek.
You inhale sharply, your lungs burning as you suck in air. You must be in a one of the stalls, the way the walls feel like they are closing in on you, the way Yoongi’s man shoves you into a corner, his hand squeezing your wind pipe.
He lets go, stepping away to close the stall door on you as you gather your bearings, coughing out blood.
“There’s your privacy, Princess.”
You take a shaky step backwards, sitting on the toilet, trying to think, trying not to cry.
As you unzipped your pants, wincing as you touch your stomach, you ask yourself once again, how are you going to get away now?
And you have no answers...
...but you do know the words for taken and person and help in Thai.
...and there was blood dripping from your lip.
You open the door, holding onto the handle for support, covering your name and those three words behind your back.
---
“Is she okay?”
-
You were part of the entourage that moved with JTJ through airports, you remember the dangerous trek through the public to your cars. During their rise to fame and before the company had created a solid security protocol, you would experience what it was like to be overrun by zealous fans, the way they would push and shove you to get to the idols. It’s bad enough for everyone to try to navigate with lights flashing in their faces, but you, walking through unknown and unseen territory, all your other senses overwhelmed by screaming and pulling and shoving, it was terrifying.
The worst that has ever happened to you while working was pulled hair, the uncomfortable feeling of being pressed together like sardines, tripping and shoes crushing your fingers.
The first time it ever happened to you, you went through a full blown panic attack. But back then, you had Namjoon who gave you some water, let you curl up on the floor of their van, rubbed your back and told you to breathe. He apologized for his own fans, told you not to worry, that they’ve all experienced the overwhelming anxiety that comes with stardom. That was the worst thing that’s ever happened to you on the job until-
-
“I tripped, my apologies,” you speak in Thai, pulling your bottom lip into your mouth and licking off the blood from the cut where Choi’s knuckles hit.
You stood behind Yoongi again, translating in Korean what was asked and your response to Yoongi.
-
After about the fifth interview in a long shooting day with JTJ, you would start to run on autopilot. Translating took all your energy, and if you didn’t solely focus on each word, you would easily get lost. It happened once during a television interview...
You turned your head to the spot where Namjoon sat beside you and started talking in Tagalog instead of Korean. Due to the hosts and the idols speaking a mixture of English, Korean, and Tagalog, you were interpreting all three and made a silly mistake. You played it off with an apologetic giggle and head scratch and the audience laughed, the idols made fun of you, and you corrected yourself promptly. It became a cute viral moment, and that was that.
You got better at quick translations, it became easier to detach yourself and become like a machine, a well oiled part in the cogs that helped push the idols toward successful endeavor after successful endeavor. You knew how to ‘turn’ yourself off and on when you needed to-
-
“Eighteen mil baht projected,” you repeat in Korean.
“It should triple easily once the other locations are operational.” Yoongi responds and you repeat the phrase in Thai.
You try not to wince as you shift your weight, coughing to hide the pain. You hear happy murmurs, the man rattles on shameless compliments which you translate, remaining stoic, keeping your emotions off, on autopilot. You’ll worry about escape later, right now, you just wish to leave this situation, feeling as suffocated as you were in those crowds, as scared.
---
There is still a metallic taste in your mouth and a throbbing sensation at your temple as you find an empty seat in Yoongi’s plane.
The plane is still escalating when someone unbuckles your seatbelt, pulling you gently to your feet. You can’t help but grimace in pain. It must be the cabin pressure, sitting for so long and having to stretch your muscles as you stand again, you wobble as you’re pulled to the back of the plane.
Jungkook helps you sit down, and when you’re finally settled, you shove his hands away, pushing him in the chest away from you, tired of being manhandled everywhere you go.
Jungkook stumbles back, his eyes going wide, disbelief and anger flashing through his otherwise collected features as he looks to you and then his boss. Yoongi clenches his teeth, holding up his hand for Jungkook to just let it go for now.
You hug your body reflexively, waiting.
“How did you get that cut on your lip?” Yoongi’s deep voice asks.
“I tripped,” you say, repeating what you said before.
Of course Yoongi knows you’re lying. Choi had told him everything without hesitation. He will deal with him for touching you without Yoongi’s permission, just like how he’ll deal with you for trying to challenge him during a deal. But why are you lying?
“Why are you protecting someone who hurt you-”
“I’m not protecting him,” you huff. You just did not want any attention being brought to that bathroom, at least not until someone can find your message, and hopefully contact the authorities. “What do you want me to say?”
Yoongi catches himself before he starts screaming. “You are a good translator, the deal went smoothly, you’re lucky.”
“Great,” you say mockingly.
There it is, Yoongi thinks. “Things would go so much better for you if you would just listen to me.”
You stay stubbornly quiet. Yoongi sighs, “Is that so hard?”
“Yes,” you grit out.
Yoongi steps in front of you, standing over you. His hand cups your jaw, tilting your head upward, studying your bruised face. “Choi shouldn’t have touched you without my permission.”
You stay quiet, wincing when his thumb goes over the cut on your lip.
“You belong to me, y/n. Every drop of blood in your body. Every drop.” The way he whispers his last words sends a chill down your spine. Did he…
Did he know?! “You should rest, we’ll be in Korea soon.”
---
Shoes click on tile flooring, you’re not in the airplane anymore, you’re not anywhere near it. You wake up so tired you can’t lift your head. You realize not only are you being carried, but you can’t move your arms or legs. You grunt, too tired to speak.
The water you drank on the plane right before falling asleep, is that why you can’t move?
You murmur a barely audible no, unable to clench your fist when hands drop your body down. A pillow is put underneath your head, your chin is moved to the side by a light and feathery touch. You fall back asleep despite your overwhelming desire to escape.
-
“You drugged me,” you croak out, voice hoarse from sleeping all day. Is this how it’s going to be now? Are they going to carry you around like a pet that knows one really good party trick?
Yoongi ignores your accusation. “I’m going to be gone for awhile. You’re going to stay here. Plus, I think some time alone might help you adjust to how things will be from now on.”
Your muscles still feel heavy. “You’re going to lock me up like a criminal?”
“You did stab one of my men,” he jabs.
“For how long?” Yoongi stays silent. You swallow, blinking away tears. You push yourself up, sitting. “W-Where are my clothes?!”
“You’re wearing clothes.”
“T-This is nothing!” you pull the sheet over your body higher, realizing you were only wearing underwear and a bra.
“We had to make sure your bruises weren’t serious. You’re not going to be leaving this room, you don’t need anything else. This is your punishment. I did tell you not to try anything earlier, didn’t I?”
You try to control your escalating breathing, unable to comprehend what’s happening. “Mr. Min,” you swallow, “Please-”
“Take this time while I’m away to reflect on how you want to live when you’re in my company,” he says apathetically.
How could he be so cruel? So inhumane?! “Give me clothes, j-just give me clothes.”
Yoongi exhales. “I am being so nice to you, y/n. Do you know what Choi lost because of what he did?” Yoongi yanks your hand away from you, pulling the digits out, his fingers gripping your pinky. He holds it still to emphasize his point while you begin to cry. “So you’re going to sit here like a good little mouse, for however long it takes, in whatever I decide to let you wear, until you can learn to behave,” he hisses.
You inhale one shuddering breath after the other, feeling disgusted by his hold on you. “P-Please don’t do this, p-please give me my clothes, m-my things, you said y-you would if I translated for you!”
He lets you go with a shove. You’re left shaking, listening, hoping for Yoongi to change his mind. “Please!” you cry out.
Yoongi sighs at your crying. “If you want to use that pretty mouth to beg me, I don’t want it in words.”
“What?”
“Don’t act stupid.” He waits. “Goodbye then.”
His foot steps move across the carpet and you fumble out of bed, sheets pulled tight to your body.
Yoongi clears his throat and you orient yourself to face him.
“What do you want me to do?” You shiver, barely holding yourself together, already expecting the worst kind of answer.
Yoongi steps forward slowly, you feel his hand graze your cheek, wiping away your tears, only causing more to fall. His hands land on your shoulders…
Pushing down…
You hold in a sob, shaking even harder as your knees hit soft carpet.
You wanted to tell him wait, slow down, to stop, to scream, but how could you when it was taking all your energy to keep from falling apart, holding down cries threatening to spill out of you.
You wince listening to the rigid clicking of metal as Yoongi undoes his belt buckles.
His fingers touch underneath your chin and you fall backwards, shutting your eyes out of reflex.
Yoongi laughs dryly. “Well I guess Tae was right, those three never touched you, did they?” He crouches down, “Did you want them to?” Yoongi tuts, “Blind girls not their thing, I guess.”
You bite your tongue, resisting the urge to defend yourself, taking in his digs instead, his patronizing tone, shaking even more, not out of fear, but anger.
“You want clothes? Your things from your apartment? Better start answering when I speak to you.”
“Please Mr. Min, give me my things.” You let out shakily, managing to barely hide your detest behind your words.
“Did you want them to?” he repeats
You breathe through your nose. “...n-no.”
“See, how can I trust you if you still won’t be honest with me...or are you just not being honest with yourself?”
Finally having enough, “Taehyung was wrong.” You say, raising your eyebrow, voice low and condescending matching Yoongi’s haughty demeanor.
Yoongi inhales sharply. Interesting. He knew Tae was full of shit.
“They fucked you? Did they pass you around? Or did they stuff you full all at once?”
You clench your jaw at Yoongi’s crude line of questioning, holding the sheet around you tighter. “It was a long time ago,” you whisper.
“Stand up.” You stand up on shaky legs. Yoongi smirks. “Y/n, your life doesn’t have to change, you could be traveling with me, the same as you did before. You just have to let me take care of you. When you listen to me, you get rewarded.”
“Or I could strip you of everything,” he snaps, yanking you forward by your bra.
“O-Okay...okay.” you swallow, putting your hand on his chest to feel his steady heartbeat and give yourself some space.
If that is what it takes to make all this a little less miserable…
Your foreheads touch as you shake against him.
Until you can escape…
You softly touch his lips.
He doesn't kiss you back. Yoongi watches your blank stare when you quickly pull away, studying your features with doubt, you are being surprisingly compliant. Let’s see how far he can push you before your compliance breaks…
He places his hand over yours, lowering it down his body slowly, until it rests on his opened belt buckle.
You fumble with his button and zipper while Yoongi drops his head, lips against your neck, he nudges you with his mouth to test your reaction, his actions so teasingly slow compared to your frantic movements.
You yank his belt swiftly out of his pants loops as he pulls on the sheet between you letting it drop at your feet. Goosebumps bloom against his lips and under his fingertips as he runs his hands down your arms.
Don’t think of his lips on your shoulder, his tongue dragging across your skin, his hands groping your ass…just get this over with, you think, pulling out his hardening cock.
He yanks you closer, strong hands gripping you in a way that is so possessive and passionate your body can’t help but react. His deep grunts pierce through you, shaking the foundations of your steadfast mind, crumbling your thoughts away.
You move to rest on your knees, wanting to stop his unforgiving mouth on your neck, but his arms snake around your waist, holding you up still, moving you backward to press you against the room’s wall while he unclasps your bra away.
Yoongi holds your chin in between his fingers. “Open your mouth for me,” he says, hot and heavy, voice dripping with desire, dominating.
His fingers press down on your tongue to open wider.
“Get on your knees.” he pushes you down as he says it, giving you no other option than to obey.
Replacing his thumb with the tip of his cock on your tongue, he pushes in, your head stuck against the wall and between his hard frame.
Yoongi closes his eyes, leaning his head back, enjoying your warm open mouth. His jaw goes slack as he slowly pulls himself out and back in until you choke, your nails digging into his thighs as he sets a slow steady pace. He grins, looking back down at your compliant body as he thrusts his cock down your throat, your mouth getting more and more sloppy as he forces you to take the full length of him over and over again.
You catch your breath in those small moments he is pulling away from you, concentrating on those opportunities, until he gets closer to his release, his movements sporadic and rougher, filling your throat deeper with short thrusts that leave no room for breathes and scare you, and even when you kick out, and try to pull free, he holds your skull, nails digging into your hair, with no way to move backward or away.
He pulls out completely, leaving you gasping for air. You rest against the wall defeatedly, waiting until he bursts, his cum landing on your face and chest. Yoongi leans his head against the wall, catching his breath. Yet you still feel suffocated by him, his frame still over you as he comes down from release.
You cover your breasts, clenching your jaw tight, so you won’t cry. You feel sticky and dirty and disgusting. “My clothes, my things,” you grunt, voice raspy from his deep thrusts.
Yoongi looks down at your ruined appearance, a sick sense of satisfaction creeping inside him now that he was back to his senses. Momentarily giving into his urges was fun, but you at his feet covered in his cum had been a better outcome than he could have imagined. The things you would do to get what you wanted.
He moves to the door, unlocking it with a key. “You’ll get some of your things.”
When he leaves, you bang your fist into the wall, finally allowing yourself to lose composure. Angry, sad, hurt, alone.
---
Braille books. You smile passing over the ones Namjoon bought you. Your withering plants. You use sink water in your bathroom to rehydrate them. Your albums, you check each raised label you added to the sleeves to make sure every single one was there, but you can’t find your player. Your clothes aren’t here, your jewelry isn’t here. There are your old stuffed animals, some from fans, some from friends. What’s this? You forgot you owned this, a braille typewriter that must have been in the back of your closet. No paper, you frown.
“I want my clothes,” you say when the door opens. There is soft clanging as a tray is deposited and the door shuts quickly before you can say anything else.
Fifteen meals, almost a week here, by yourself, no one to talk to. You were given dresses that weren’t your own. The thin fabric and shortness of them left little to the imagination, especially with your bra gone now too.
Twenty-seven more meals. It’s two weeks. With no contact. You can’t take it. You missed everyone so much it felt like you were being split apart through the center of your chest, torn from the inside out. Every day passed meant less of a chance that people were looking for you. Did anyone give a shit about you anymore?
Pacing around the room, you knew every inch of it now. There was no window, only a toilet and a sink, a bed and a table. You’re tired of reading your books and you can’t listen to your records, you can’t type, every request you ask falls on deaf ears, a door shut in your face no matter what you say or do.
You had nothing to do but slowly lose your mind.
You thought about your life and all the things you took for granted, all the chores you hated to do that you missed now. You thought about friends, you thought about Namjoon and Jimin and Taehyung and what they were doing now. But most of all you thought about killing yourself and all the ways you could accomplish that. But the thing that kept you from falling off the brink of insanity was the thought of killing Yoongi with your bare hands.
---
Every morning you are greeted with bread and water and a different kind of fruit. But this morning, instead of one knock on the door and then a breakfast tray, the door swung open quietly as you slept.
“Good morning, little mouse.”
“Mr. Min?”
His voice was the first voice you heard in twenty-one days. The elation you felt was twisting, turning in the pit of your stomach knowing it was Yoongi who was the cause.
“What are you wearing?”
“The ‘clothes’ you gave me.” You were wearing the rags he called dresses. All of them. One you used as a skirt, and you fashioned three into a top.
“Get up.”
“Why?” you ask, still pulling your feet from under the covers.
“You’re accompanying me to an event. But first, a shower.”
A proper shower? Not cleaning yourself in that bathroom sink…
You hold your hand out.
-
You could stay under the showerhead all day, it feels so good. This bathroom was three times the size as yours, warm, inviting. The steam hugged your body, the cascading water washed away your tears, the dirtiness you still felt inside you that couldn’t be scrubbed away.
When you were finally clean and dry, you allowed yourself to smile, hugging the warm plush robe to your body, a far cry from the small worn towels given to you before.
Yoongi gives you your dress for the night, the tiny bag you had left in your hotel that held your makeup, and sits you down in front of the table of food he has been eating while waiting for you.
There’s so much of it, and all so good tasting, you don’t know what to eat first, picking food up with your fingers.
“You can’t act like that when we’re out in public.”
“Yeah, okay,” you dismiss, food still in your mouth. You have the urge to throw the rest at him.
“If you can prove yourself tonight, you can stay in this room instead-” He drinks chilled whisky. “-with me,” he finishes.
You slow down, reaching for only one roll instead of two. “Okay,” you nod, head down. You refused to go back into that room.
---
“You know clothes are supposed to ‘cover’ your body?”
There were so many people around you. Laughing dinner guests, music playing, waiters stopping you every so often, offering you drinks, a party for important people.
“They cover what’s important to me,” he says dismissively. The dress you wore was cut low, very low, showing off your back. At least the train was long, but difficult to walk in…difficult to escape in…
You held onto Yoongi’s arm as he spoke to people. They all spoke Korean, there was nothing for you to really do except be annoyed, listening to small talk that meant nothing to you.
“What are we doing here?”
“Enjoying the night.”
You repress the urge to scoff. Being locked alone in silence for so long to this…dealing with the background chatter all around you was not easy, and was not fun. Your head hurt from the noise, your feet hurt from wearing heels you were not used to. The thing that surprisingly did not hurt right now was your heart, what hurt you the most when you were locked in, thinking of all your loved ones.
You were too preoccupied now, curiously listening to every conversation in the vicinity. It was mostly dumb shallow small talk, but it was infinitely more entertaining than talking to yourself.
Yoongi’s arm snakes around your waist.
“What are you doing?” you whisper.
“Kiss me.”
“What?!”
“Kiss me now, if don’t want to end up back in that room for another month…and make it convincing,” he whispers.
What is this? Is he trying to piss off an ex? This is so ridiculous, this is what he wanted you for? To pretend to be his girlfriend at a party? How pathetic. But the thought of being locked up again-
You put your arms around his neck, leaning forward to place a kiss on his cheek.
“That’s not-”
“You said make it convincing,” you whisper, hand moving to his other cheek, tilting his head towards yours. You press your lips against his softly, then more forcefully until he’s moving his mouth against yours, mirroring your actions.
You fake a smile. “Happy?” you whisper in a biting tone, breaking the spell.
But Yoongi’s not ready to end the act, pulling you back in with his hand against your neck, giving you one last shameless kiss, drawn out, with tongue, turning your legs to jello.
He moves you through the party again, disappearing into the crowd. “See, she’s fine, I guess,” Taehyung says, watching as you move further away, sipping on his drink to lessen the shock.
Namjoon downs the rest of his champagne. “She’s not fine,” he whispers. There’s too many people around them, all itching to be the next to speak to the trio. Jimin is taking pictures, already buzzed on alcohol, laughing too loudly at his own jokes, not a care in the world, especially not about the girl who sacrificed her life for his. ‘Can he not be a fucking self-centered ass for one night?’ Namjoon thinks. “I’m going to talk to her-”
Taehyung pulls Namjoon back. “Are you crazy? He could ruin all our careers-”
“Mr. Kim?” Both Namjoon and Taehyung turn to the excited industry professional speaking. “Oh, Mr. Kim Namjoon, I wanted to introduce myself, I’m-” Taehyung pats Namjoon on the back, giving him a look that says, ‘See? You’ll never get to them without causing a scene.’
You rest your head on Yoongi’s shoulder. “Tired? I thought you would be excited to get out for the night?”
“I’m fine,” you offer him a fake smile, lying.
“Mr. Min, this is for you,” a man speaks to him, handing him a large purse. Yoongi nods, putting it on your shoulder, the bag is so heavy the strap digs into your shoulder. He pulls off his jacket, putting it around your shoulders to further conceal the bag, but not before adjusting your dress, hands raking over your exposed cleavage.
“What’s in the bag?” you mumble, your body heating up.
He holds you close, lips against your cheek. “Don’t worry about it.”
“Wait, did you just turn me into a drug mule?” You hold onto his forearms, nails tightly pressed into his skin. He matches your aggressiveness, twisting your arm and pulling you close so no one notices. “You want me to be honest with you? Then you be honest with me,” you argue.
“It’s not drugs. Did you forget who I am? My business?”
“Money-”
“Not money, not really. Hard drives.”
“Hard drives?” you stutter.
“Yes.”
“What’s on them?”
Yoongi sighs, letting you go. “A few digital wallets, some videos. Sometimes, secrets make the best collateral.”
What kind of secrets could be worth so much? “Secrets…like a dating scandal?” you think out loud.
“Clever little mouse. Not this time, no. You know there are certain establishments men sometimes like to…indulge in? Parlors? We have one bugged.”
“So these are bad men...”
Yoongi smirks, finding your righteousness amusing. “Yes, they are.”
You nod in understanding, gripping the purse strap. Yoongi lays his hands on your hips. It’s like he always has to touch you, feel you, make sure you’re there with him, even though he is the one who can see you and you can’t.
He’s always touching, like now, running his hands across your curves, thumb under the fabric of your dress to caress your skin, holding you like a lover would, and you can’t push away, tell him no, and worst of all, you’re body is becoming accustomed to his hands, used to his touches. It should revolt you…he should…but he doesn’t, and that makes you feel disgusted with yourself.
You’re in a room full of people, and Yoongi is the only person you know. It is an ironic cruelty to feel safer in his arms here.
You lean against him, unable to concentrate on anything else other than his hands. You should scream, you should kick him and run away. But how many secrets of yours did he hold? What would his hands do to you, if you tried to escape?
You can’t stand it, the way he makes you feel. “H-How much longer?”
“Do you want to go home?”
More than anything, that’s what you want, but the home you are thinking of is not where he is referring. You nod against his chest.
“Y/n!”
You lift your head abruptly. Did someone call your name?
Yoongi drapes his arm around you, leading you away.
You heard it again! Your name spoken so clearly through the chatter of people. You try to slow your pace, but Yoongi’s hold on you is too strong. Your heartbeat pounds through your chest as you try to hear it again, just to be certain. But you never heard it, the ghost crying out to you, Namjoon might as well have been a figment of your imagination.
“What’s wrong?”
You wait for valet to bring Yoongi’s car. Your heart rate won’t go down, you felt rattled still, sure you heard your name. “What was the reason for that celebration?”
“A slew of rich people with too much time on their hands, they come up with a different reason every weekend to hold one of those things. Today it’s a charity so they can use their philanthropy to make themselves feel better than the rest of us, tomorrow it’s a premier party of some sort. Why?”
“Curious, I guess-”
“Yoongi!”
“We were just leaving. Right, y/n?”
“A quick smoke then?” Taehyung holds out a cigarette for Yoongi, hoping to entice him. Yoongi nods, taking it.
Taehyung just wanted to make sure you were okay, see you up close so he could convince Namjoon to cool it, the rapper was going to send himself into an early grave if he did not stop blaming himself for what happened to you. But one look at your wide shell-shocked eyes, the fear and hope and pain he saw etched across your features, and Taehyung knew he had made a terrible mistake. He could lie to Namjoon and Jimin, but he couldn’t lie to himself.
“T-Tae?” you whisper in disbelief, holding out your hand, which Yoongi grabbed promptly, shutting down any physical touch from the idol singer.
Taehyung swallowed, saying your name so softly you wanted to burst into tears, if Yoongi’s hand denting into your wrist did not remind you of the snake wrapped around you, ready to strike if you did something wrong.
“A-Are you okay?” Taehyung asks, knowing deep down you weren’t but hoping desperately you would prove him wrong.
“She’s fine,” Yoongi answers for you, taking a long inhale of his cigarette, his other arm still draped around you, holding you firmly. “Didn’t she look like she was having a good time?”
Taehyung nods stiffly. You say his name again, your voice breaking, so tiny and full of emotion Taehyung feels his chest clench and his stomach turn.
“I’ll check in on you again, to make sure you’re okay, so don’t worry,” Taehyung whispers hurriedly, noticing Yoongi’s vehicle approaching.
“Oh Tae, you don’t need to act like the good guy in front of her, she already knows,” Yoongi says dryly, flicking his cigarette butt on the ground.
Taehyung looks to the ground, unable to meet Yoongi’s eyes for too long, scared of the loan shark. Yoongi pulls your stiff body away, into the back seat of his car with him.
Taehyung watches as his driver pulls away. Taehyung pulls out another cigarette to calm his nerves. Why would you kiss Yoongi like that, hold him like that, and act so terrified now?! Whatever Yoongi was doing, was much more calculated than Taehyung ever thought possible. But Taehyung knew for certain, that there would be no convincing Namjoon now.
---
Previous Chapter | Next Chapter: New Life
Regarding the update goal, I am just trying something different to help engagement, I was hoping it would encourage reblogs lol but I love your comments as well, very cute. Yay and thank you to my readers! Boo to those who like and then unlike once I update, that's a good way to get blocked, a warning.
#yandere bts#bts yandere#yandere yoongi#bts smut#yoongi smut#yoongi x reader#namjoon x reader#yoongi fanfiction#bts fanfic#bts mafia au#bts au
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Hey there! May i ask for a greatwise drabble with the #98 song?
Send me a ship (or fandom) and a number between 1 & 101, and I’ll use my Spotify Wrapped as fic inspo
98- If You Have My Voodoo Doll, Give Me A Hug by Loveless (which I used as very loose inspiration because I'm tired of writing sad things for these two lol)
Will bit his lip and looked down at the ground. “I guess I’m just used to fading into the background. Easier to ignore that way.”
He didn’t want to bring up his Zombie Boy title. Surely Gareth had heard it before. That two years’ difference between them was in some ways a blessing because it meant Gareth hadn’t been around to see the worst of it in middle school. But it also meant he didn’t understand most of it either.
“Hey,” Gareth said, his voice low and soothing. As his hand came up to brush at Will’s hair, the younger boy closed his eyes with a sigh. “You don’t have to fade with me. With any of us. You know Hellfire has your back”
Will nodded. When Gareth’s forehead brushed against his own, Will leaned forward. He always felt steadier with his boyfriend around.
“I’ll never quite be able to turn my mind off,” Will admitted. “All my doubts? They overwhelm me sometimes.”
“That’s okay.” He pressed a kiss to Will’s cheek. “When you get in too deep, I’ll pull you back out.”
Will wanted to believe him. “You may not always be able to.”
“Then I’ll burn down everything else trying.”
Will shivered, opening his eyes to lock gazes with Gareth. He looked so serious, so convicted.
“People have raised hell on your behalf so many times, Will.” He didn’t even know the half of it. “I wasn’t around to, but I will if I need to. I’ll do it as often as I need to keep you here by my side and make you happy. You deserve the world. I want to give it to you.”
Ducking his head, Will let it drop onto Gareth’s shoulder. He took a deep breath. Sometimes he wondered if the Upside Down had permanently altered his sense of smell. Right now that didn’t matter. He was surrounded by Gareth.
As his boyfriend’s arms came up around him, Will hummed. “I think I’d do just about anything if you told me to.”
“That’s my line,” Gareth teased. He slowly rocked Will back and forth.
“Do you think we could have kept this up if I’d had to go back to California?” Will asked. He knew it was a sudden change in conversation, but he’d been thinking about it a lot lately. About the way distance had strained El and Mike. About whether he would have had the voice to carry over that distance.
Gareth chuckled. “It probably would have been hard, but I would have written so many songs for you.”
Will shivered, then blushed because he knew Gareth had felt it. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. I’m rubbish at guitar. I usually stick to drums. But I would have borrowed Eddie’s acoustic so often. Written lyrics to send to you. Recorded what I could and send that to you anyway.”
“Maybe I should have gone then,” Will teased. “I could have gotten songs out of the deal.”
Gareth made a small noise of protest. “Not funny. Besides, you’re getting a song or two anyway.”
Will pulled back to stare at him. “Wait, what? Really?”
Gareth smiled as he nodded, looking much shyer than he had previously. “Eddie won’t let me hear the end of it. I asked him for help. I had decent lyrics but no sense of melody or how to build the chords for it.”
“Eddie helped you write a song for me,” Will repeated, delight welling up in his chest. “That’s so sweet.”
“I was hoping for dramatic or romantic.” Gareth looked so grumpy that Will couldn’t resist leaning in to kiss his cheek. They’d kissed for real a few times, but Will was shy about it. And Gareth always gave him the time and space he needed.
“It is romantic,” Will agreed. “And rather dramatic. I can’t wait to hear it. No one tell my friends or they’ll all be insulted, but I have the best boyfriend ever.”
Gareth laughed, and good, that was Will’s goal. “I will not tell your friends that you have a better boyfriend than any of their girlfriends,” he promised and leaned in to press a kiss to Will’s nose. “I might tell them I do, though. Builds character.”
Will shifted to the side, leaving one arm looped around Gareth’s waist. “Yeah? Normally I’m not a fan of bragging, but I feel like this could be an exception.”
“You always are,” Gareth promised. “You always are.”
#greatwise#gareth emerson#gareth stranger things#will byers#stranger things#stranger things fanfiction#my fanfic#my writing
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Personal ramble ~
I don’t really know where I am anymore. I’ve stayed in the fandom a long time and never wavered in my support of Build from the moment I was convinced that he wasn’t the monster Poi tried to paint him as. And tbh I still haven’t. I never deluded myself that Build had never done anything wrong in his life. I saw his first scandal. I know he’s said and done things he regrets.
But he’s apologized. And as far as I can tell he’s trying to be a better person. And none of what’s being brought to light now is AFTER he apologized and has tried to do better, so why should I hold it against him? We’re all human. Humans make mistakes and do shitty things. That doesn’t make us irredeemable. It just makes us human.
If someone showed me proof that he said and did those shitty things AFTER he’s apologized and said he wants to be a better person, I’d drop him for good. I give people the benefit of the doubt, but only if they deserve it. And to my eyes, it really looks like he’s trying to do better. And I respect that.
But I don’t know if I can be his fan anymore.
I love him and respect him so much. But Poi and her minions have waged psychological warfare against his fans for months. These last rounds were clearly targeted at international fans, too.
Being in this fandom and being his fan feels like being hyper vigilant. Like checking every account. Like being policed left and right by both his fans and his antis. And I don’t know if I have the energy anymore.
I love him. I want him to be able to move forward. But I’ll never sacrifice my own personal well-being for a man I don’t even know.
So this might be it for me. Even if it feels like losing. I don’t know if I can stay his fan, or even stan the other KPTS actors anymore. I’m just tired.
A lot has happened in this fandom. I wrote fics that got popular. Made friends. Lost friends. Retreated into myself and only conversed with my close friends. I’m not sure where I’m at there either. I don’t have much desire to connect or make new friends anymore.
Fic writing… I don’t know either. I have no plans to stop any of my fics but I also am not getting as much joy out of writing as I did once. And with the quiet responses lately from the fandom since there’s been so much else going on, I haven’t had much external encouragement to keep writing either.
So I guess right now I’m just a big fat ??? I’ll see where my path takes me over the next few weeks. I’m not making any decisions now, just processing my thoughts.
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