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#Some words she said always seemed like she was screaming because of how bright the flashes were
charliesangel67 · 3 days
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Against all odds
Rafe Cameron x fem!reader
Word count- 1567
Warnings: Smutttt, a little bit of fluff, acedemic rivals (kind of, idk how to write it)
Authors note: I'm actually so sorry this took so long, idek why but it was a bit hard to write. Anyway, it's here and I hope you enjoy.
This was based of off @weirdowithnobeardo 's idea which is the first comment on this post
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“Ok, can somebody tell me the answer to question b?” Quickly, hands flew up in the air. “Mr Cameron, what is the answer?” “4x+7n=33y” Rafe said confidently. “”That’s wrong.” I announced. “Go on, what’s your theory Miss y/n?” My teacher said, “It’s 4x+7n=36y because x is equal to 2.” I stated. “That is correct y/n, well done.” My teacher smiled at me. I smiled in Rafe’s direction but he just glared at me. Next period science, we got our tests back, “So Cameron, what did you get?” I asked Rafe curiously. “94%, you?” “99%” I replied with a smile. Again, he seemed so angry at me for getting a higher score. This went on for the next couple of weeks, He acted like we were academic rivals.
3 weeks later
There it was, the test sitting on my desk, a bright red ‘A+’ written in the top right corner. I was proud of myself for scoring so high on such a hard test. It was 40% of my final GPA result so I had to score high. I turned around to see Rafe staring daggers at me. “Bad result Cameron?” I asked him teasingly. “Shut up y/l/n” He growled as he clenched his jaw. I giggled to myself and turned my attention back to the teacher. 
The bell rang for the end of the day and I hurriedly grabbed my backpack and ran to my locker. My friend Maddy always meets me at my locker because we’re in different year levels, Maddy’s in 10th and I’m in 11th grade. “So, how was your day Mads?” I asked unlocking my locker. “Shit. So fucking shit you have no idea.” “I’m sure it couldn't have been that bad.” I laughed. “No, y/n it was bad. So bad in fact that I got broken up with by Jason the son of a bitch in front of half the cafeteria.” She announced. “Oh shit, sorry babe, he was no good for you anyway.” I said walking away with her. 
As we were walking to my car, Maddy realised she had forgotten something in her locker so she ran back towards the buildings. Suddenly, I felt a rough hand grab hold of my upper arm and pin me against a wall. A hand covered my mouth to stop me from screaming. “Oh you son of a bitch. You’re so fucking done little girl.” I knew the voice sounded familiar but I couldn’t quite figure out who it was. When my eyes finally adjusted to the light and situation, I realised it was Jason and his group of friends. 
“So, did you and Maddy talk shit about me to the school after what I did to her?” He asked again, still keeping me against the wall. “What the fuck. No we didn’t, why would you think that?” I was astonished at the accusation. “Because, now the whole school thinks that I have an STD and all the girls I’ve slept with have smashed my locker and put slime in the gas tank of my car.” He complained. “Wow, creative girls for real.” I said with a little laugh. “Ok, if it wasn’t you, then who was it?” 
“It was me, you son of a bitch!” Yelled Rafe, walking towards us. “Why?! Why the fuck would you do that?” Jason asked, close to tears. Rafe pulls a phone out of his pocket and starts reading some texts - 
“‘C’mon Maddy, It won’t be that bad. Why don’t you wanna sleep with me?”
“Because I’m not ready for that Jason, I’ve told you a million times. We have only been together a month and I’m not ready to have sex yet. Just stop asking me already.”
“Fine. Go fuck some other dude, you fucking slut. You’ll regret not being with me.” “What do you mean Jason? Are you breaking up with me??”” 
“Hey! Where did you get my phone from you bitch?!” Jason asked launching himself at Rafe, who dodged the blow perfectly. “You left her on delivered for 9 hours just so you could slut shame her and break up with her in the cafeteria in front of everyone, all because she didn’t want to sleep with you?!  Not to mention you cheated on her the entire relationship. You’re a real ass man.” Rafe said. “I suggest you leave Maddy, Y/n and all the other girls you’ve messed with, alone and get on with your life.” Rafe yelled as Jason and his friends ran away.
They knew how powerful Rafe could be and they didn’t want to get on his bad side. “Thanks Rafe. Why did you do that anyway?” I asked, “Don’t think I did it for you, I hate Jason.” “Oh, okay.” I replied sheepishly before walking away, back to my car and to meet with Maddy. The drive home was silent after I told Maddy all about what happened. Her being in disbelief about what Rafe had done to Jason. 
A couple weeks later, it was Midsummers, I had bought a nice dress and had a plan laid out on how we were going to spend the evening with Maddy and her sister, Kiara. Kiara picked us up and we drove to the Cameron’s mansion as that was where the party was. Kiara was friends with Sarah, Rafes younger sister.
A couple hours into the party,  Rafe approached me, taking my hand and dragging me upstairs. “Rafe, what are you doing?” I whispered, “Taking you to my room.” “Why?” I asked, a little scared. “Because you look way too beautiful in that dress and I noticed JJ basically eye fucking you.” He turned to face me, looking very sexy in his button down shirt and his hair falling into his eyes. Without thinking I put my hand out to brush his hair away from his face, he grabbed my neck and leaned down to kiss me. 
“No, Rafe, we can’t do this.” I said as I pulled away. “Why not y/n?” “Because, I’m a pogue, you're a kook and you should hate me. In fact, you did act like you hated me after you stood up for me in front of Jason, and now suddenly you’re acting all jealous when JJ looks at me?” I asked in a confronting manner. “Look, y/n, I like you.” “No, we can’t Rafe. Your dad is gonna kill you and my parents are gonna fucking disown me or something if they found out I was dating a kook, especially Mr Rafe Cameron with his bad reputation.” 
Rafe didn’t say another word, he just leaned down again to kiss me, This time it was more passionate. At that moment, I didn’t even care that we shouldn’t be doing this, I just kissed him back. Rafe picked me up and carried me to his room. He threw me on the bed and locked the door. He crawled on top of me and placed feather light kisses along my neck to my cleavage. “Can I?” he asked as his fingers were tangled in the strap off my dress. “Mmmh,” I responded softly as he carefully took off my dress. 
I tugged at his belt, hinting for him to take off his pants as I unbuttoned his shirt. Within minutes, we were both butt naked, he took my boobs in his hands, massaging them and kissing along them. I moaned at the pleasure. I palmed his cock through his boxers and I felt him getting hard underneath my hand. Quickly, Rafe ripped off his boxers and rubbed his cock against my entrance. Already slick and wet, he pushed inside. I moaned as he did so, Rafe thrusted slowly and sensually.
“Mmh, You like that baby?” He asked, staring into my eyes. “So much Rafe.” I replied. Rolling my eyes back as Rafe thrusted harder into my soaking cunt and he kissed along my breasts. Soon, I was nearing my release, my cunt tightening around him. And a couple thrusts later I had come undone onto his thick cock. “Fuck baby, I'm gonna come.” “Come in me Rafe.” I begged him and seconds later he squirted his hot cum into my pussy. Out of breath and panting, I crawled on top of him, lying on his chest, my hands tangled in his hair as he kissed my neck. “Promise we can keep this a secret for a little while longer until I tell my parents?” I asked him. Rafe nodded and uttered a soft ‘yes’. I kissed him one more time before getting up and getting dressed. 
“I’m gonna head back down stairs okay? The girls are gonna be worried about where I was.” I told him, opening the door. “One more kiss babe.” Rafe said and when I turned around, seeing his abs again stirred something deep within me. Want. I wanted this man. His hair, his face, his body, his personality towards me. I wanted everything about him. I didn’t think, I just jumped back onto the bed into his arms. Rafe kissed me hard and passionate and I melted into his touch. Soon we were back at it again, he was thrusting slowly and sensually into my soaked cunt as I buried my face in his shoulder quieting my moans.
That night was the best sex I ever had. 
I also got a super protective boyfriend.
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I hope you guys liked this 😁
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mad-raptorzzz · 5 months
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[ID: A drawing of two SeaWing dragons from Wings of Fire facing each other. Tsunami has her back to the viewer and is smirking with her ear tipped forward. She has mostly medium blue scales with dark blue along her spine and snout. Some of her aqua blue bioluminescent face scalers are lit up. She is smirking at Whirpool who floats in front of her. He looks stunned by the audacity of what she is saying in aquatic. His green-yellow scales are lighter on his belly and darker on his back. He has large ears for a SeaWing, which are adorned with several large hooped earrings each. Over his left eye, he has a small golden monocle which is suspended in place by a fine metal chain attached to one earring and one eye brow ring. Between them, in glowing and floating letters, it spells 'Squidface'/ End.]
The scene that made me laugh is when Tsunami learns how to speak Aquatic and the very first thing she learns how to do is basically swear. Headcannon that squidface is the SeaWing swear that functionally means dickhead. Which I think fits Whirlpool well. I tried to make him as oily as possible. His ears normally droop under the weight of all the hoops. But he's so surprised that they're sticking up quite a bit. He also has some big ears for a SeaWing. All the better to put more hoops in. I may do a bit of a redesign at some point and give him gages because that would be sweet.
Love Tsunami. Next up is a scene that made me cry.
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Snow Lands On Top (Pt. 2) || Coriolanus Snow X Reader || Smut
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Outline: It’s the first round of the presidential elections and Coriolanus Snow’s results aren’t as good as he hoped. Fortunately, you’re there to give him an outlet for his frustration.
Word count: 3’081
Warnings: pregnancy (TTC), marriage of convenience, very explicit ROUGH smut.
Author’s note: I wrote this as a second part to There Will Come A Ruler, since a few people asked for it. I also wanted to thank you all for all the love I received since I started posting on this page a few days ago, it means the world to me! Still blows my mind that so many people bothered reading what I wrote! ♡
(( Part 1 - There Will Come A Ruler )) - (( Part 3 - Insatiable )) - (( Part 4 - The Bitter Taste Of My Fury ))
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It only was your second time stepping inside the tall skyscraper that hosted your husband’s office - and headquarters. When the elevator doors opened in front of you, you instantly felt trapped, probably because the lobby was more crowded than what you expected. Even if something inside you was screaming for you to turn around and run the other way instead of losing yourself in this den of vipers, you had no choice but to do what duty required of you. You plastered a smile on your face, the one too bright and too joyful to let how miserable you really felt show, and entered the crowd, recognizing some familiar faces and greeting strangers pretending you also knew who they were. If they had been invited today to Coriolanus’s office, it meant they were important to him so you had to consider them as important to you as well.
“Hippity hoppity, there you are, little dove.” A voice sounded behind you. You heard it as clear as day despite the ambiant noise all around you, and a cold shiver ran down your spine. You turned to face who it belonged too, smiling even brighter to conceal the uneasiness you always felt around such an eccentric character.
“Volumnia Gaul, it’s good to see you again.”
“It’s been too long. But I suppose you’ve been quite busy trying to fulfill your duties.” She said, throwing a knowing glance down to your stomach.
“Of course, there’s never a dull moment since I became Coriolanus’ wife.” You smiled, in yet another attempt to conceal your lies. You had been miserable and bored during most of the year you’ve been married, and although you were good at acting by now, the way Dr Gaul stared at you made you feel like she was seeing right through you.
“You should bring her to the front, people need to see you together.” She said, looking up to someone behind you.
You felt him before seeing him, his hand finding the small of your back and his tall frame appearing next to you, your shoulder brushing against his side. You lifted your gaze up to look at your husband, but he didn’t look down at you, focusing his attention on his mentor instead, the only thing letting you know that he had noticed you was his hand pressed against your lower back.
“Of course.” He agreed, with a nod. Dr Gaul’s eyes landed on you once more, something unsettling in the way she suddenly stared at you.
“My offer to examine her still stands, if you want me to run a few tests on her and figure out why you haven’t conceived yet.”
Your blood went cold. Everybody knew how deranged Volumnia Gaul could sometimes be, she was as cruel as she was extravagant and it only seemed to get worse the older she got. She had left her place as the head gamemaker of the Hunger Games to Coriolanus and had retired from her scientific career, but she still ran bizarre experiments in her lab, for her own enjoyment… And you definitely didn’t want to be one of them.
“It won’t be necessary.” Your husband assured her, allowing you to breathe again with relief. “It’s not her fault but mine, I’ve been too busy with the games and my campaign to properly invest time into expanding our family.”
Dr Gaul was about to reply something but was cut off by the sound of the television increasing in the speakers. Coriolanus guided you in front of the large window in his office’s lobby, as everyone seemed to step out of your path.
He was smiling, handsome as ever in his dark red suit and you smiled too, pressing yourself closer to him when you noticed the cameras filming you from across the room. It must have been a perfect picture to showcase to the entire nation, a seemingly loving couple standing in front of the nicest view of the Capitol, surrounded by all their supporters as the reporters on TV were about to announce the winner of this round of the elections.
All eyes were on the television as the results appeared on the screen. You held your breath, waiting for Coriolanus’ percentage to go up but it only did a brief jump and then stopped, largely losing to his opponents. You turned to look at him, waiting for a reaction, and so did everyone else present in the room.
True to himself, he held his head high, standing even straighter as he remained stoic, not a single change of the expression on his face to betray his disappointment. But, even if you couldn’t say that you knew your husband that well, you still knew that he must have been crushed by such a bad result. He had worked so hard for this, put up such a show for the people and so did you, his defeat felt like your own.
It startled you when you felt his fingers digging into the tender flesh of your hip. He was tense, you could feel it , but he was still smiling at the crowd, gracious in defeat. He even spoke a few words, only disturbed for a brief second when he noticed the cameras packing up instead of transmitting his speech, the viewers probably more interested in hearing what the victors of this round had to say rather than listen to your husband.
Coriolanus kept his tight grip on you, as if holding you was the only thing that could keep him from snapping. Some of his supporters came to him to offer him some words of encouragement in replacement of congratulations and he handled each conversation with polite manners.
“At least if you don’t win, we get to keep you as head gamermaker.” One lady said, trying to highlight the good in the situation but Coriolanus only gave her a tight smile in return.
“I’m sorry it didn’t work out but maybe it just shows you’re better at working on the Games, they’ve been delightful to watch ever since you took over.”
“At least if you don’t have to keep campaigning you can focus your efforts on the next Hunger Games and come up with a show even better than last year’s !”
The very reason of his bad ranking at the election kept being thrown to his face, people simply preferred him as a game maker, so that they could be sure to be entertained by Coriolanus’ genius ideas to make the show an annual event rather than see him becoming president and be bored in front of their television once a year. The other thing that didn’t work out for him, as you understood, was the fact that he didn’t seem as relatable to the people since he didn’t have a family to care for and protect while his opponent, Festus Creed, already had three kids with his wife Persephone. Maybe they loved each other…
Once people were done offering their sympathy, you felt Coriolanus’ warm hand leave you, your skin a bit sore from the intensity of his previous grip on you. He rushed through the crowd, even ignoring a man who tried to address him and went to his office, shutting the door behind him.
Nobody seemed to notice, nor care, that your husband had felt the need to isolate himself but you did for some reason. Maybe it was because you knew how hard it was to keep smiling and nodding at everyone when deep down you just wanted to scream and run away. In the crowd, you met Dr Gaul’s gaze who had also noticed, watching you with careful attention, as if she was waiting to judge the way you’d react.
So of course, you smiled. At her. At everyone.
You followed the same path as he did, stopping by the man who had attempted to speak to him so that he could speak to you instead and maybe ease off his vexation at being ignored by your husband. As hard as it may be to keep going once the facade of perfection crumpled, it was necessary - now even more than before - to make sure all his allies continued supporting him.
Once he seemed satisfied by the small talk you shared, you kept moving, trying to seem as relaxed and detached as you could, until you had the opportunity to slip inside the office, mostly unnoticed by the crowd still mingling in the lobby.
“Coriolanus, I…” You started but stopped yourself when you noticed all the files scattered on the ground. Your husband was leaning over his desk, his back turned to you and you could see him breathing deeply and rapidly, his shoulders moving up and down with tension.
Suddenly, he threw the remaining of what was on his desk down, with one long motion. More files flew up in the air before landing on the ground, a glass container of pens and pencils broke on the wooden floor and shattered to pieces, flying off in every direction like a tiny bomb explosion. His desk light also tumbled to the floor, making a noise you were sure others had heard too.
You had the instinct to take a step back, your hand finding the knob again in order to retreat far away from his wrath... But, when he buried his face in his hands, he suddenly felt a lot less threatening and a lot more vulnerable, making you decide to stay.
“You might have lost this time but maybe it’ll work out next time.” You told him, softly. You wanted to comfort him, as had everyone else already, but the way he dropped his hands and looked at you with a dark glare made you question your decision.
“Always so positive.”He stated, bitterly, as if he was disgusted by your hopefulness. It wasn’t often that you got to see him without a charming smile on his face and a confident posture, in fact, it was the very first time you had been able to read him so easily, his emotions on display exactly as he was feeling them.
“It’s just one set back, for now they think you are too young, too good at your job, but maybe you’ll be elected next time. Maybe it’ll be in ten years. Maybe in thirty. But you will be president.” He shook his head, a cynical smirk on his lips.
“What makes you so sure ?”
“… Because Snow lands on top.”
His eyes darkened and he launched himself at you, crossing the path between the two of you in rapid strides so that he could capture your lips in a ferocious kiss. It left you breathless for a moment, the way his mouth was covering yours with feverish kisses, his arms around your waist to pull your body against his.
It was your second real kiss. Only the second one since you considered that your marriage had been sealed not with a kiss but with a signature at the bottom of a contract.
You pressed your forehead to his, trying to create some distance between you so that you could catch your breath and attempt to have a coherent thought about what was happening but he didn’t let you, giving you one last consuming kiss before his fingers tangled with your ponytail and he pulled, hard enough to force you to your knees in front of him.
You kneeled, looking up with expectant eyes. It was his way of showing you what he needed. He wanted to be revered, to get rebels to bend the knee in front of him, to be worshiped and relived from the anger and frustration he always locked up inside himself, with no way of letting them out.
You reached for his pants, swiftly undoing them with your eyes never leaving his pale blue ones, staring at you with a silent wrath still setting his gaze ablaze. He tugged on your hair again, forcing your chin up so that he could touch your face with his other hand, forcing a thumb passed your lips. He attentively watched you as you opened up your mouth to take it in, gently sucking before releasing it with a soft bite.
You saw him smile at your compliance, even though it was ended by a bold gesture. You were the perfect mix of obedient and fiery to make him lose his mind, and you both knew it.
He reached down to the pants you had opened for him, pulling his already hard erection. You resisted the urge to look at it, remembering how big it had felt in your hand and inside you, worried that his size might change your mind about giving him what he wanted. Instead, you kept your eyes fixed to his as you opened your mouth wide, ready to welcoming him there.
His tip glided on your tongue, his length not even entirely filling your mouth when you felt it hit the back of your throat. He shuddered with pleasure, a soft curse leaving his lips, followed by the sound of your name.
You felt a jolt of electricity in your body, a strange pride warming you up at the thought of pleasing him. You ran your tongue over his tip, tasting the saltiness that was already dripping from him in anticipation of his release. He cursed again and his hand moved to the back of your head, holding you firmly in place as he began thrusting back and forth.
You tried to relax your jaw and breathe through your nose as his hard length slid on your tongue, but when his movements increased in speed and in strength, you felt him reaching deeper down your throat and you couldn’t help but gag, tears welling in your eyes in consequence. But, even though he was still very carefully looking at you, watching the way he was fucking your mouth without mercy, he didn’t stop or slow down, only attempting to have an even firmer grip on you.
Another curse word fell from his lips, betraying how close he was to finding relief but, instead of shooting his load on your tongue as you were expecting him to, he rapidly pulled himself out of your mouth, heavily panting in front of you.
You used this opportunity to catch your own breath and wipe the mascara stains under your eyes, feeling the soreness of your lips caused by the unforgiving friction he had created.
“Get up.” He demanded, which made you realize he had let go of your hair. You obeyed without hesitation, even taking a step closer to be in his reach again. He immediately took advantage of the proximity, roughly pulling your dress up above your hips and bringing his hand to your center, pulling your panties aside so that he could run a finger across your soaked folds. A satisfied grin appeared on his face, as he removed his hand and brought his finger to his lips, tasting you with a hungry gaze.
You felt your whole body buzzing with excitement, your eyes following the path of his tongue as he licked his lips, seemingly enjoying what he had just tasted. You were so ready for him, you would have begged if he asked you but he didn’t. In fact, he didn’t ask for anything, he just took whatever he wanted, the way he wanted… And at this very moment, you couldn’t have been more okay with it.
His hands came to your bare hips and flipped you over so that your back was turned to him. Then, he pushed on your lower back, silently instructing you to bend over for him, which you did.
“Hold on tight.” He advised, his voice low with lust. You looked for something to do so but only found a tall bookshelf in front of you. You still gripped the sides of it, knowing it wouldn’t help you that much but you could already feel him pulling your panties to the side again.
Without a warning, he shoved himself inside you and you welcomed him, your wetness allowing him to slide all the way in with his first thrust. You bite your lip to avoid letting out a moan, very aware of the noise and chatter still coming from right behind his office door.
He completely pulled out before slamming inside you again, burying himself as deep as he could and you loudly gasped. He adjusted your position with a hand on each of your hips, gripping you so hard it was almost painful but you understood why once he repeated his action, thrusting so hard you would have lost your balance if he wasn’t helping stabilize you.
“Come on, let me hear the lovely sounds you can make.” He requested, mercilessly repeating the same movement.
“I can’t… They’ll all hear us…” You panted, a strangled moan catching in your throat when he hit deep, exactly where you needed him to.
“Good, I want them to know I’m fucking my wife.” He breathed, clearly enjoying himself too. “Show them you are mine.”
You felt dizzy at his words. Or maybe it was from the intense pleasure building up at your core. A few more of his rough thrusts and you came undone, loudly expressing your bliss as he released himself deep inside you. You both stayed connected for a moment to catch your breath until he pulled out, adjusting your panties and pulling your dress back down before taking care of putting his spent erection away.
You turned around to face him, meeting his gaze and noticing how his eyes had softened, like they had been drained of all the emotions he kept hidden behind them at all times, a clean slate to endure the rest of the evening.
To your surprise, he leaned over to kiss you. Not with hunger this time but with a tenderness you didn’t expect, like he was grateful you had been there for him.
“Was I too rough with you ?” He asked you, in a whisper, almost as if he was ashamed to say it out loud.
“Yes.” You nodded, appreciating the concern that immediately appeared on his face but you reassured him with a smile. “And I absolutely loved it.”
He smiled back, looking at you like he was seeing you in a new light. You weren’t strangers anymore and, for the first time, you were both starting to think that your marriage wasn’t such a fatality after all.
(( More ))
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Previously in this series:
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mrsnancywheeler · 8 months
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andante, andante // finnick odair x f. reader
masterlist
3.3k words
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request: could you write a oneshot where finnick and reader have always had a flirty relationship. the reader got taken and tortured by snow during the quarter quell, and she was brought to thirteen and when finnick sees her lots of fluff (and maybe smut?) ensues. i love your work, happy 700 followers!
warnings: smut, lots of it, there's some angst in the beginning Captiol related, confessions of feelings, hurt/comfort in the beginning, pnv, some degredation, teasing, use of good girl, unprotected sex, no use of y/n, unedited
𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀����
There was no energy left, not a single part of your body had any form of passion left. Long ago you'd grown immune to the effects that Peeta and Johanna's screams had once had on you, probably once the starvation and dehydration had kicked in. Not to mention when you were trying to fight off the rats you could swear where in your pitch black cell, sometimes you'd swear you saw other creatures as well, but you tried to tell yourself it was hallucinations.
So when the team from District 13 came to rescue you all, you desperately willed the energy to return. You couldn't see him like this, Finnick. Technically you were just friends, but your relationship hinged on the flirtatious, playful banter which you didn't know if you had anymore. You hadn't spoken in a while, maybe you wouldn't even recognize your voice, it's not like the Capitol had much information they could get out of you. No one had thought to inform you of the rebel plan, for a while part of you was terrified that Snow would just have you killed for not knowing anything, but you were kept alive.
You'd had endless time to spend, when you weren't hearing or seeing things in your hazy state, to think about Finnick. How you weren't sure if he felt the same way about you that you'd felt about him for years, but should've said something before all this. Wishing that before you surely died in the Capitol he would know you had always cared for him, loved him from afar. You'd rather die with your love unrequited, but known. Yet now you'd see him again and you hoped if there was a chance he had feelings for you that you were half the woman you once were.
Of course, once all the fluids the medics were pumping you full of had taken effect you'd probably feel some of the spirit you'd had return. The universe seemed to look down on you because the first feeling you did feel in full force was anxiety about Finnick. You'd heard whispers of his names from guards so you knew he wasn't dead, but hadn't a clue how he actually was. Maybe you'd made up the voices of the guards and he actually was dead, what a cruel fate that would be, but with the way your life seemed to pan out it wouldn't have shocked you. Although if he was alive it condemned you to living the rest of your life in silent adoration, but he was the only person you would ever do that for.
When you entered the District 13 base on that medical bed the next full force feeling hit, overstimulation. The only noise you had been used to in weeks were the cries of Peeta and Johanna which you'd learned to tune out regardless of how loud, and the occasional order from a guard or a whisper. The flurry of doctors ready to fully assess injuries, people standing around full of questions, all the chatter and noise had your hands flying up to cover your ears. It was too bright, too loud, the bed was rickety in the floors little bumps, and you actually longed to be back in the familiarity of the cell.
“Hey, you're okay, honey." A much softer voice, much closer, warms ringer delicately brushing the hands covering your ears. Finnick. Your eyes snapped open as you slowly observed him.
“Finnick?" Your voice was much quieter, scratchier than you'd remembered it, but he seemed to hear you just fine. His kind smile blessing you as he slowly nodded, the next emotion was relief. You hadn't cried in a while, no water to allow yourself, but the fluids must have been working miracles because you felt like there was a flood about to break through your tear ducts. “You're real right?"
His hand landed more firmly on yours, assuring you with his very real body heat. “I'm real, I'm right here with you." Slowly you moved your hands from your ears, forcing yourself to take deep breaths to handle the noise. He looked like he was going to cry, “God, I'm so glad you're okay!" Finnick's warm embrace surrounded you and it made you want to melt into him forever. “They kept sedating me because I was so worried about you."
It confused you, to hear him talking about worrying about you with so much passion, of course he'd consumed your every thought, but you'd doubted you would've been on his. “Oh, come on, you would've found someone else to banter with, Finn." The first laugh you'd had in so long forced itself out.
“Good thing that the only person I want to banter with is you, and here you are, pretty face and all."
There was a pause before your voice came out again, delicate like a flower petal floating on the waters. "I missed you.” It came out sounding more vulnerable then you'd intended, maybe even too fond and he'd pulled his arms away. Before you could retreat though you were shocked when his lips were on yours. The kiss was soft, and spoke a thousand words you could only ever wish to translate.
When he pulled away you could only stare at him stunned, he'd felt the same way you'd felt all along. “I'm sorry, I-" Before he could finish you pulled his face back in, kissing him, it was addictive, you could drown in his lips. “You know, it's rude to interrupt." He muttered out before kissing you again.
“Sorry." You weren't, there was no time to be when it was like you living in a dream. Maybe this was a dream, maybe you were back in the Capitol and had officially lost it, but the heat of his touch was too real for you to believe that.
“I've loved you for so long." Finnick's hand cupped your face which must have been burning up.
“Me too, I didn't think you'd ever even noticed me that way."
“How could I not have noticed my pretty, sweet girl that way?" His smile was so perfect it made you feel like you were floating. The doctors insisted on doing an official check up on you which Finnick stuck by you diligently for. Fluids and food was all you really needed besides further psychological evaluation, but there wasn't much time for that when apparently Peeta was turning out to be the biggest problem imaginable.
Finnick had sat by your hospital bed, slowly feeding you a soup that felt like the best thing you'd ever eaten with all the time you'd gone without a scrap. He filled you in on life in District 13, how much protocol there was, but it would be worth it to end all of this so you could be together. Apparently he'd been assigned his own compartment which he rarely used when the breakdowns hit, so he'd spent nearly every night sedated in the hospital wing.
Eventually the doctors agreed to let you take a shower, you'd still be sequestered to the hospital wing, but you were grateful for the chance to finally be clean. You could sense that Finnick hated that you would be out of his sight again, like the moment you walked away he would realize this was all a dream he was having that had slipped away under the cover of night. “Do you wanna come with?" You whispered to him as the medic on the other side took the IV out of your arm, “Somebody's gonna have to show me the way there."
“Can I?" He whispered back and hurt you to know that he'd been this hurt over you, that you'd both gone so long without a confession to the other.
You nodded slowly as you pressed a quick kiss on his lips and he smiled, maybe this wasn't a dream after all. Finnick guided you through the drab underground of District 13. It was stuffy, but you were overtaken by giddiness. The Finnick Odair was holding your hand, the Finnick Odair had meant every flirty comment he'd made, Finnick Odair loved you back, Finnick Odair wasn't just a dream you could never have, Finnick was here, Finnick was yours. He loves me, he loves me not, he loves me, he loves me not. And the final petal had determined he loved you.
He turned the water on for you and Finnick respectfully turned around so you could undress and get inside of it. Your heart swelled to think he missed you so much he would be content to just sit outside, to feel your presence in the room. The feeling of the water hitting your skin was a relief, to feel the grime being washed away. It was lonely though, to think of him patiently waiting for you, how long he's waited to know you were safe, how long he'd waited for you to confess. “Are you gonna make me be alone in here?” You cringed at the way no matter how quiet your voice was it seemed to echo.
You'd hid behind the curtain, so you didn't have to confront the question. Maybe he didn't want to, but you'd also thought he just wanted to flirt as friends. The curtain swept to the side as he peeked his handsome face in, eyes glued to your face. "Not if you need my help, honey.” You would've sworn the way he said those endearments always made butterflies flutter in your stomach, even if it was something you'd felt guilty about when he initially began using it.
The hot water should have relaxed your muscles, but staring at his perfect, handsome face was making you feel a similar sensation that you despised. Whether he knew it or not, the sound of his voice, the things he'd say, and that smile of his all did unimaginable things to you. Things you'd felt guilty for when the fantasies flashed in your mind. He'd been your friend, so it must've been wrong to imagine him with his hands between your legs. Now though, he wasn't just your friend, and the feeling was back. “Maybe I do." It was embarrassing, but just being by his body would help you or maybe it would make the feeling worse, but you didn't care.
He grinned at you and disappeared for a few seconds before he'd opened the curtain again, slipping into the shower. “What do you need my help with, sweet girl?" Now you'd have to come up with something, you tried not to let your eyes trail over his body, he wasn't looking anywhere but your face. But it was hard when it felt like some tingling part of your body was now controlling your actions.
“Can you help me clean myself off?"
"Of course, honey.” He went to grab the shampoo bottle, eyes never ducking down. Part of you wanted him too though, so that this felt less like a dirty fantasy.
"You can look at me, you know? I won't bite, unless asked, promise.” You tried to sound like it was playful, soft and he laughed.
"Yeah, sorry, I just didn't want to make you uncomfortable.”
“I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable either." You reassured, “I'm not making you uncomfortable though, am I? If I am-" One of his hands grabbed yours making you pause.
“You're not making me uncomfortable either, you're okay." His sweet smile made you feel more than just like melting, you hoped the wetness pooling between your thighs wouldn't be noticeable in the water. Finnick softly turned you around to wash your hair, he was so particular, taking his time and the feeling of his breath on your neck, clever fingers in your hair. It was so calming, “This okay, honey?" You could only hum in approval as his hands moved so delicately across your scalp. Your brain so easily fell into an easy blissful state as you let his hands move your head with ease. He finished with your hair soon enough and was moving onto washing your body. You shuddered when he carefully pushed your hair off the back of your neck, “You sure you're okay?”
"Yeah.” It comes out more strained than you'd meant it to and you pray he's not put off by it, which he doesn't seem to be as his hands keep trailing downwards. He's soaped and rinsed you off, moving you with so much care that you wish you could absorb each second of it, but you're trying to leave the moment. If you let yourself think about it you're sure you'll give yourself away with the way you'd be responding to his touch. Then it's nearly impossible when he's washing your face, his hands seem like they were perfectly meant to hold your face and suddenly so do his lips when he's kissing you again. Instantly you're pulling him in closer, basically inhaling whatever he gives you. Then you're pausing when his hands start slipping down the small of your back.
Much to your chagrin he pulls away, pausing his hands descent, as he looks at you, “Are you okay with this?" He asks, his eyes speak depths on how much he cares. You nod trying to lean in again, but he leans back, “Need to hear you say it, sweet girl."
"Yes, Finn.” It's barely audible, but he rewards you by kissing you again. Fingers continuing their trail down your back, grazing over nerves that make you shiver. His hands finally land on your hips and you can barely breathe, but you won't let yourself pull away from his lips. They're too addictive and you're too scared you'll wake up to realize you never left the Capitol. And then his hands are slipping lower, your thighs pressing together.
His hands are slowly spreading your legs apart and you let them. Whimpering into his lips when his fingers start tracing over your pussy. His lips pull away and you whine more, even if it gives you a chance to gasp for air. “You're dripping, sweet girl, I haven't even done anything. I bet…” Finnick trails off and you gasp when the tips of two of his fingers are lightly pushing into you. You're instantly clenching around them and he's smirking. “Were you gonna tell me I was making you this dizzy?" You hum out something incoherent when his other fingers start rubbing you. “Seems like someone doesn't know how to use her words, sweet girl, I just have to look at her and understand how needy she is…” He kisses your neck, "Doesn't tell me she feels the same way about me, I have to do it.” Another kiss to another sensitive spot and you gave up on any idea of suppressing the wanton sounds you're making now. He was rubbing you faster now, “Someone's gonna have to teach you to use your words, like a good girl. Not today though."
"Finn-” You moaned out, head tilting back. "Need you, need you so bad. Need you inside me.” You clenched around the tips of his stationary fingers and he thrusted them upwards, the sound you let out was guttural with shock.
“You sure you can take me, sweet girl? Want me to split you open instead of helping you open?" He sounded condescending as he kept moving his fingers inside of you as you whined, before letting out another moan as he slipped a third finger in you.
“Don't care, Finn, don't care if it hurts, need you cock in me. Please, please, please.”
He slipped his fingers out and your eyebrows scrunched together as you whined, he was opening your mouth with his fingers soaked in your juices. “You're my pretty little cock slut aren't you? Gonna let me break you on my cock?" You sucked his fingers in confirmation, licking off your own juices and he smirked. “Did you fantasize about me? Were you not able to tell me how you felt because you were too busy making yourself dumb thinking about my cock?" You nodded, moaning as his other hands began making even more aggressive circles. His hand titled your head up, “If you want my cock, then you're gonna tell me what you thought about when you were fucking yourself stupid."
It was hard to form words when you wanted to do nothing but whine at the pleasure rushing through your body, "You, I thought about how much I wanted you-” Your head fell back when his circles got rougher and then was forcing your head back up, "Wanted you inside of me, touched myself thinking about, oh my god, Finn, please I can't it's too much, wanna cum when you're inside me.”
He was quiet for a second before sighing, “When you beg like that how am I supposed to refuse you anything? Just because my sweet girl just got back to me and must be being so brave, using her words like that. But you're not getting out of it next time, honey." Finnick removed his hand and you let out an involuntary whine.
"Thank you, Finn.” You said breathily as he finally lined himself up with your entrance. “Already so close."
“So needy." He clicked his tongue as he started pushing into you, you clawed into his back. “Jump." You obeyed and he hoisted you up, legs wrapping around his waist. Trying not to hit at his back when caused more of him to push in, but you couldn't stop yourself from the scream you let out when he carefully pushed your back against the shower wall and he bottomed out in you. “So tight, this pussy was made for me, feels so good." He groaned, “Can I move?"
“Please, you're so deep in me, feels so good. Wanna be yours, Finn, want you to do what you want with me." His face planted itself in between your neck and shoulder and you could feel him smiling into your skin.
“You're so sweet, honey." Then he was moving again and you were instantly crying out, “Everyone's gonna find us if you keep this up, know you're mine now." At your insistence he let himself be fast, pound in and out of you as you tightened around him.
Finnick moved a hand up to protect your head as he thrusted recklessly into you. It felt like an eternity of his perfect noises and seeing stars with each movement, you were so grateful that it was your cunt making him groan like that, that he wanted to be inside of you. “Oh my god, Finn, I'm gonna come."
“Good girl, come undone on my cock, sweet girl. Wanna look at your pretty face when you let go for me.” You could've sworn that you'd left the planet when he brought you past the edge. He must have felt it too because your ecstasy doubled when you felt him releasing inside of you, how full you were of him.
You don't know how long you stayed like that, listening to each other's breathing, but nothing had ever felt so perfect. “They're gonna wonder what happened to us." You eventually let out a breathy laugh and he nodded into your shoulder. He tapped your leg and you unhooked them from around his waist. Feet falling onto the cold tiles below.
“Good, I've got to make up for lost time." He kissed your forehead before finally pulling out of you and you hated how empty you felt without him. Finnick pressed his forehead against yours and you watched the steam from the water gather around him, “I should've told you sooner, if you hadn't been okay and here with me again, I don't know if I could've lived with myself knowing you never knew I loved you." And the way he kissed you sealed your fate, you would forever be making up for the times that neither of you confessed to how hopelessly you adored each other and you would relish every moment of it.
𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒
thank you for reading! I'm going to try and get chapter two of the river out before I do the next request, working on scheduling these each out! if you enjoyed it feedback is always appreciated, comments, likes, reblogs, and my asks/requests are open! thank you again and love you all 💋
taglist: @wowzabowza69
761 notes · View notes
cloudcountry · 3 months
Note
Hello, if requests are open, can I request Idia with fem!reader were they both are trying to confess to each other but something always goes wrong were they can’t do it and it becomes so painfully obvious for everyone else to the point they lock them up and get them to confess to each other ending in fluff? ❤️
SUMMARY: 2 times you and idia tried to confess to each other and the one time it worked. (she/her pronouns used for reader, she is referred to as "miss" a lot)
COMMENTS: THIS IS SO CUTE <333 i may love writing married idia but flustered and pining and nervous idia is just as good ╰(*°▽°*)╯
as always if you see typos no you dont i tried to proofread this but i am literally so tired today was MESSYYYY
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This is the seventh time you’ve walked past him.
Idia twists his hair into knots and snarls, eyes shifting as you pass his table, and he catches your eye as you walk away. You’ve been staring at him too? Does he have something on his face? Shoulders hunched, he tries to shrink into his hoodie, grasping at security in whatever form he can find it.
Azul’s eyes are following you too, his gaze sharp and calculated.
“She seems to be going to the bathroom a lot. And rather quickly too.” he drawls, watching as you leave the board game club again.
Idia mumbles something Azul can’t hear in response. Azul doesn’t bother asking what he said because you walk in again, and he notices how you look more and more anxious every time. Just like before, you make a beeline for the table where Idia sits, right across from Azul, but the second you get close enough you serve and speed walk right past him.
It’s funny to see how panicked Idia is getting.
But Azul is nothing if not benevolent.
He calls your name as you start walking back towards them, lips pursued like you’re seconds away from blurting something out.
You and Idia both jump, and Azul holds back a laugh.
“Y...Yes?” you squeak, eyes wide like you’ve been caught doing something you shouldn’t. Azul’s eyes slide over to Idia and—sure enough, his hair is turning pink at the ends.
“Did you want something with Idia?” he asks politely, “I can’t help but notice you seem to be...well, pardon my bluntness, but you’re circling him like a shark.”
Subtilty is the word that Idia’s eyes seem to scream at him, wide and unbelieving.
You look like you want to run out of there but apparently decide against it.
“Um...I mean, if you’re asking...” you duck your head and pull out the chair next to Idia, sitting down, “I wanted to ask you something.”
Azul takes that as his cue to leave, presenting the two of you (mostly Idia, who is non verbally begging him not to leave him here) with a bright businessman smile. He positions himself behind a row of desks with his other clubmates where he can comfortably eavesdrop on your conversation without looking.
“I was wondering if you wanted to do something.” you fumble with your words.
“Um, something?” Idia asks, fumbling just as hard.
Great Seven, you two are awful speakers. It almost makes Azul want to get in on this and make it easier for you two to understand each other—
“Yeah, uh...” you start speaking again, softer, “Would you like to go on a—”
The doors to the club burst open and a gray blur flies through the room, launching itself at you. Before Azul even has the time to facepalm at how much of a failure that conversation was, Grim laughs triumphantly as he scales your body. Idia’s attention has been captured by the feline who perches himself on your shoulder, looking smugger than Idia when he wins a game.
“Henchhuman! You haven’t brought me my afternoon tuna! I’m hungry!” he yowls, pawing at your face.
Azul watches in disappointment as the both of you focus your attention on Grim instead of keeping it on each other.
“Um...Mr. Grim, I have some cat treats here if you want some...” Idia mumbles, pulling a bag of them out of his pocket.
Grim pounces on him, launching off of your shoulder as fast as he got there. Idia looks elated to have the direbeast sitting smug in his lap, snatching treats right out of his hand. Azul shifts his focus to you and oh—
He has never seen anyone look at Idia the way you do. Your brow is furrowed softly, tilting downwards towards your nose, Your eyes are crinkled at the corners and your lips are pulled into the most lovestruck smile he’s ever seen. You’re resting your chin on your hand and you’ve never looked more comfortable.
You look like you could stare at him forever.
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You don’t know how you’ve done it (and honestly, Idia isn’t sure either) but you’ve made it to Idia’s room. You’re lazing on his bed, a bag of gummy worms in your lap as you stare at the ceiling, having abandoned your phone a few minutes ago. Mouse clicking and keyboard tapping are the only sounds in the room now, aside from Idia’s almost silent air conditioning unit to keep his PCs in top shape.
You’re thankful his room is cool. It’s a nice contrast to the unregulated temperature in Ramshackle.
“GG! You should have leveled up more before you challenged me!” he gloats, giggling madly as a bright red VICTORY crosses his monitor screen.
He really does brag a lot when it comes to games, you’ve noticed. You’re turning to watch him play before you know it, popping gummy worm after gummy worm into your mouth as he starts another round. It’s nice watching him play, he seems more authentic here than he does in class. It’s like his nerves melt away in the realm of his interests and you’re so thankful for it.
“You’re watching!?” Idia yelps, and that’s when you snap back into reality with your hand wrist deep in an empty gummy worms bag.
“Oh, uh, yeah.” you say dumbly, breaking eye contact faster than Grim running toward a can of tuna, “Is that bad?”
“N...No, not really. I just didn’t expect...that.” he mumbles.
He didn’t expect you to be staring so intently.
The second VICTORY screen of the night fades away, and the room feels even quieter.
Not for Idia though, whose heart is pounding in his ears.
Should he go for it...? Fuck it, post-win adrenaline is his best friend.
“Um, hey. So, Miss, um...” he fidgets with his own fingers, twisting and wringing them as he plucks up the courage to say something, anything—
“Yes?” you look hopeful, perking up at his voice and it gives him the incentive to just go for it—
“Would you like to go out—”
“Idia, I’m home!”
The door to his room swings open and Ortho flies in, hovering an inch off the floor. He looks taken aback when he sees you, eyes wide and excited.
“You didn’t tell me we had guests over!” Ortho chirps, waving at you enthusiastically, “Hi, Miss!”
You wave back shyly, trying your best to hide your disappointment that Idia couldn’t finish his sentence. Idia’s hair is flickering pink again, but this time there are hints of orange and you wonder what he’s mad at.
If you had to guess, based on his expression, you’d say he was mad at himself.
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After the events of last night, this is not how you expected your day to play out.
You’d decided that you were going to confess to Idia once and for all, even practicing in front of the mirror to make sure you didn’t look too awkward or sound too weird.
You’d prepared him a gummy bouquet, since he loves colorful candy so much, and had even made a blanket fort back at Ramshackle so you’d have an excuse to invite him over (and so you’d put too much effort into it to back out.)
And now all of that was up in smoke because someone (or someones) had locked you in a storage closet with him, not without shouting a cheerful ”make sure you tell each other what you’ve wanted to say for a while now!
You’d been trapped for about five minutes now.
Idia was inconsolable, rocking back and forth on the floor next to you as his fiery hair glowed bright pink. It made you nervous to know just how flustered he was about the whole thing, especially with the knowledge that he also had something to tell you.
Something he’d been thinking about for a while now.
...Maybe, just maybe, you should go first.
Steeling your nerves, you scoot closer to him and whisper his name. He stops rocking and peaks up at you, waiting.
“Idia, I’m sorry you got locked in here because of me. I had a whole thing planned because I wanted to make this special but it seems the universe plotted against us.” you squeeze your hands in your lap and clamp your eyes shut, refusing to look as you force your next words out, “Truth is, I like you and I’ve liked you for a while now, I’ve always wanted to tell you but I didn’t know how you would take it because I think a friend would be more important to you and I’m sorry for springing this on you now but this is how I feel and if you never want to see me again I get it. That would suck though.”
What were you saying!?
Beyond your closed eyelids, a burst of something bright lights up your (lack of) vision with a flash of red.
“There’s no way this is real!” Idia yells, and it’s so loud it almost scares you.
You jolt back, eyes flying open and his hair is so bright,fanning out through the closet and sparking in its soft pink glory. He’s staring at you like you’ve grown a second head, face red and eyes wide.
“I mean, this is like...this is like...” he grabs at his scalp, breathing heavily, “This is like your favorite character’s SSR coming home on your first single pull! Not even a tenfold summon! This is like your favorite event getting a rerun! There’s no way this is real!”
He snaps his gaze over to you, finally making eye contact. You’re shrinking in on himself, mind whirling at his rambling but noting that it’s all positive.
“Are you serious? You like me? Why!?” he screeches, voice cracking with his frantic he is, “You’re like...you’re so kind! And pretty—no, hold on—I mean yes you are! I mean—”
He covers his face with his hands and screams.
You can feel your face warming up, and the dopey grin spreading across your face.
“I can tell you all the things I like about you when you say it back.” you say softly, aiming to calm him down from his wound up state.
Idia wheezes, shaking and sparking and rocking again on the floor.
“Give me a second...critical hit... I need a healer...Miss, that was a killer blow...” he mumbles under his breath, talking about hitboxes and your buffs.
Whatever makes him more comfortable.
“Is this a joke?” he asks suddenly, jolting up from his crouched position.
“Why would it be a joke?” you frown, “You think I gathered up all my nerves and made you two surprises so I could invite you over after I confessed today to pull a prank on you?”
“I just can’t believe it.” Idia’s head falls back on his knees, and he goes back to mumbling, "You're...you're literally perfect."
It doesn’t seem like you’ll be getting a straightforward answer out of him soon...
But as the closet door finally swings open and you see Azul and Ortho, you’re one hundred percent sure you can wait.
395 notes · View notes
mannaima · 2 years
Note
Heard you wanted some dark requests for Joel? I have one!
How about Joel with a reader half his age. She’s an orphan growing up in the QZ. A sunshine type that’s always smiling and bright. She ends up striking a friendship with Joel but misses all the signs that he’s becoming infatuated with her because she’s naive. She doesn’t realize that people are terrified to get close to her because Joel’s made it clear he’s staked a claim on her.
One day she tells Joel she’s been asked out on a date. She’s nervous because she’s never gone out with someone and has no idea what to do. It’s not like the schools in the QZ are any good based off or what Ellie’s said. So she goes to her friend to ask him advice about sex. She misses how insanely jealous he’s becoming and how possessive he gets. Eventually he decides to show her, instead of telling her, what sex is like.
The next day she hears that the guy that asked her out is dead. Apparently Joel shot him while on a job as a guard because he showed signs of infection (how convenient). She’s heartbroken over losing him and doesn’t see how satisfied Joel looks. She has no idea he’s obsessed with her and will do whatever it takes to keep her.
Lesson
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Summary: You look for advice from a friend, but he uses that to his advantage.
Warnings: NSFW (18+), smut, dub-con(ish), age gap (reader is 20 and joel is 56), joel being possessive, murder (at the end)
Word count: 5K
Summary: I like this! For reference, Ellie will be the same age as the reader, which is 20! Also, this is in a universe where ellie and Joel are in the QZ at an older age (yeah totally not canon but neither is any of this) Btw I didn’t proofread this at alllll so if u see any mistakes ignore it pls.
You had a good day so far, Ellie had invited you out drinking, which you happily accepted! Joel and Ellie had become really good friends, and you always looked forward to seeing them in your life. You had a simple life, go to work, come home, talk with your friends, and go to sleep. You enjoyed the laid back life, which was well deserved after the hell you spent a majority of your life. Though daily life wasn’t easy, it was much better than what you imagined you could’ve been if you had just made one wrong move fighting an infected. 
Sadly, it wasn’t very easy to make friends, a lot of people usually stayed away from you. You didn’t understand why, but you at least had Ellie and Joel to be in your life! 
“Ellie! Shush!” You both were laughing, you smacking Ellie’s shoulder as she said a dirty joke. 
“C’mon! You can't tell me that wasn’t funny!” She knew you too well, Ellie knew just how to make you embarrassed yet shift into a fit of laughter. You took a swig of your drink.
“Well, that might be true… But you can’t say that out loud! God forbid someone heard us talking about that…” You giggled under your breath.
“Talking about what? Say it or I will!” Ellie spoke a little louder.
“Please don’t.” You said, laughing with red cheeks.
“DIC-” You covered her mouth and both laughed to your heart's content. Although you loved Ellie, you admit she could be a little vulgar.
“Ellieee!” You whined “Shushhhh.” She laughed, and you uncovered her mouth.
“What do you know about that anyways, huh?” You mocked her, and she stuck her tongue out at you.
“You’re right, I should be screaming about pussy shouldn’t I?” You both shared a laugh, and she rested her hand on your shoulder,sharing a look. You both took a swig of your drinks.
“Hey Y/N!” Confused, you turned around, only to see a familiar face.
“Oh, hi Xavier!” A big smile grew on his face. Xavier was a friend you had met from work, both bonding over a familiar love for dogs initially, until you both started to talk more frequently at work. He walked over to you and Ellie, his hands nervously rubbing his arm.
“This is my friend, Ellie.” Ellie gave him a wave, and he gave her a smile and wave, his whole demeanor seeming a bit more nervous than usual, very shaky.
“So, um, Y/N…” You smiled, and nodded, letting him continue. “I was wondering, um, If we.. No… I-If I… Fuck…” He stopped and closed his eyes, letting out a deep breath. “I was wondering if you wanted to hang out tomorrow. Like… A date.” Your eyes widened at this, breath hitching. You had never been on a date before, you don’t even think you’ve held a guy's hand before! You looked at Ellie nervously, who had a huge grin on her face, nodding vigorously. You looked back at Xavier, who had a terrified look on his face, before you nodded your head yes.
“O-Of course! That sounds awesome!” Xaviers look of fear was replaced with a huge toothy grin, and nodded.
“Alright, awesome! I’ll pick you up tomorrow night! S-See you!” He promptly turned around, and walked through the other people in the common area. Ellie grabbed your cheek and turned you to face her.
“Y/N!! You just got asked on your very. First. Date!!!!” You both squealed like preteen girls at a sleepover, you couldn’t believe it! 
“Oh my god! This is so crazy. What do I wear. What should I do? What if he wants to kiss? What if he wants to…” Your eyes widened to look at Ellie. She laughed and raised her eyebrow.
“What?”
“Ellie… What if he wants to… Have sex…” You whispered the last part, and she laughed and slapped her knee.
“Ellie this is serious!”
“Why are you nervous? You know how that stuff works, right?” She gave you a laugh, before realizing you weren’t laughing. 
“Y/N… You aren’t serious, are you?”
“The schools at the QZ sucked, okay! They didn’t want us procreating!”
“Okay but… You seriously don’t know how sex works? You’re twenty years old dude!” You shushed her, trying to quiet her before others could turn their heads to see what you two were going on about. 
“It’s not my fault! I just never…Took much thought about it…” You put your head down in embarrassment.
“Hey, hey, Y/N. I’m just teasing. Sorry, I took it too far. But it's not all bad. I could teach you- No wait. I can ask Joel!”
“Joel?” You were confused, Ellie knew just as much as him, why did you need Joel to explain it.
“Joel’s actually got experience with… Y’know. Guy on girl action. So it would make more sense if he taught you, plus, he gave me the birds and bees talk!” You cringed at the thought. That talk was supposed to be given to kids who barely hit puberty, not twenty year olds. You nodded, and twiddled your fingers to try and ease your nerves.
“C’mon, it’s getting late. I’ll drop you off and Joel’s so it won't be as awkward with me there. Cause I’ll probably laugh every time Joel says penis.” You both giggled and walked to Joel’s apartment, the alcohol in your system making you a little less nervous about having ‘the talk’ with Joel.
“Alright Y/N, I’ll see you tomorrow, Good luck!” Ellie hugged you tightly, and did the same. You had barely realized you were already in front of Joel’s apartment. Taking a deep breath, you gave the door a few knocks before stepping back slightly. Hopefully he answered.
After a few seconds of silence, a few clicks were heard before the door opened, revealing a straight faced Joel.
“Hi Joel!” You said, maybe a bit too cheery, before giving him a little wave.
“Hey sweetie. What do you need?” He gave you a small smirk, body leaning out the door frame.
“I- Um. Can I come in?” Joel nodded, and moved to the side, allowing you to walk in. You felt a little nervous to ask him, nervous that he was gonna view you differently.
“What’s on your mind, sweetheart?” You looked up at him, his familiar face making you feel more comfortable, he was just a friend. A friend who could help you.
“So… Basically. Uhm…” You fidgeted around. “A guy… Xavier, asked me out.” You didn’t see the anger in his eyes when you said that. “And I’m super excited! But I’ve never been on a date with someone before. And I’ve never kissed a guy or held his hand or done anything romantic before.” You stopped your ramblings. “I was just wondering if. You could have the…. ‘The talk’ with me…”
“The talk?” Joel raised his eyebrow at you.
“Yeah! You know. Like the birds and the bees?” You nervously giggled, Joel’s expression worrying you. He just stared at you, and you couldn’t read his emotions. It was until he had a small, very awkward, smile on his face.
“Oh, alright. I guess I could tell you.” He walked over to his bed and pat the seat next to him. A wave of relief washed over you as you took the seat next to him, bouncing on the mattress. You looked up at Joel, his eyes staring into yours.
“Alright. So, basically, when two people love each other, they may feel… Hot. Warm. This is called arousal, but most people call it being horny.” You nodded. Taking a mental note of the word.
“And the man’s penis, his private part, gets hard.”
“I know what a penis is, Joel.” You giggled, and he put his hands up in defense.
“Just making sure! Anyways, the man gets hard. And the woman, well, she gets wet.”
“Wet? Like how?” Joel kind of stared at your legs for a little, seeming to debate in his head about a few things. He took a deep sigh and looked at you once more.
“How about I show you?” You gulped, what did he mean by show you?
“What? D-Do you mean like… Do it with me?”
“Yes. It’s better to show you. Plus, I doubt a guy like Xavier would know what he’s doing.” You nodded at this, realizing he was right, it would be better to know what you were doing than embarrass yourself.
“O-Ok. Show me, please?” You sounded so cute to Joel. He couldn’t get enough of you.
Joel had done so much to prevent any man from getting close to you, hell, even women too. You didn’t see the way he held a chiv up to people's necks just by mentioning your name, or how he shot a guy in the leg for waving at you, only letting him live to tell others to stay away from you, or else the next bullet would be in their heads. He didn’t want you corrupted by disgusting people of the world, he wanted to wait for the right opportunity to make you his, and it seemed Mister Xavier had given him the perfect opportunity.
“Alright. First lesson is gonna be on kissing. Get closer.” He commanded you, which made you slightly more nervous than it should’ve. You nodded, and obeyed, getting to the point that both your legs were touching.
“Alright, close your eyes. And purse your lips, not too much, just a little.” You did exactly as he said, and a few seconds later, you felt warm lips against your own. You felt the hairiness of his mustache and beard, tickling your features. He made a small ‘smooch’ sound before pulling away.
“See. It’s easy. You just had your first kiss.” You opened your eyes and saw Joel just a few inches away from your face. You giggled, and smiled with glee. You just had your first kiss! You kissed a man! Joel smiled back at you before rubbing your cheek and pulling your lip down, before letting it flip back up.
“Alright, lesson number two. Making out. Open your mouth for me darling, just slightly.” Your big eyes bore into his before doing exactly that. He suddenly slammed his lips against yours, his tongue slipping in your mouth. You let out a muffled noise before realizing he was playing with your tongue with his own. You kept staring at him before realizing his eyes were closed, so you followed in his steps. You both twirled your tongues against one another, your steps just being to follow him as closely as you could. His hands suddenly gripped your cheeks, cupping them in his hands, effectively pushing you closer to his lips. He seemed hungry, his mouth pushing against yours with such passion, his breathing getting heavy. You were very unsure of what to do, but it seemed he enjoyed what you were doing, so you felt okay. He kept pressing his tongue against yours, salvia dripping down your chin with how sloppy he was becoming. After a few minutes of making out, he pulled back, your tongue popping out your mouth as he pulled back.
“Fucking hell…” You heard him mutter under his breath, unsure if it was positive or not.
“Was that good, Joel?” You tilted your head at him, staring into his brown eyes.
“Oh.. Uh…” Joel had forgotten this was supposed to be a lesson for you. “Yes, you did amazing sweetie.” You gave him a large grin, so glad you did your best for him. Joel’s mind, however, was running a million miles an hour. His cock was so incredibly hard, throbbing almost, he had to contain himself from pinning you down and fucking your brains out. His hand was rubbing against his temple, trying to calm himself and collect his thoughts. Alright, he needed to focus on taking it slow for you. Stay focused.
“Okay. Next lesson is gonna be exploring your body. Let's take this off.” His large hands pressed up against your body, lifting up the hem of your shirt. You put your hands up, allowing him to slip the shirt off your body. He stared at your chest covered with a black bra, so simple, yet so arousing. He cursed under his breath again before gulping and softly rubbing your breast. 
“Get on my lap, sweetie.” You nodded and climbed over him, but he stopped you.
“Back to me, sweetheart.” His deep voice made you quiver a little, but you shouldn’t feel like that, Joel was your friend trying to help you out. You settled into his lap, feeling a hardness press against your ass. You shifted around, trying to find a comfortable position, unknowingly making Joel feel jolts of pleasure run through his body. The way your beautiful ass rubbed against him, god, he could cum in his jeans right now.
“I’m gonna touch you, is that alright?” You nodded, finally settling into a nice position on his lap.
His hands grabbed your breasts through your bra, large hands covering a good portion of it. You felt a flutter run through your body, Joel’s hands surprisingly warm. He kept squeezing and squeezing, making you feel a mixture of embarrassment at his possible thoughts, and a slightly tingly feeling in your lower regions.
His hands pulled the inner corner of your bra outwards, exposing your nipples. They hardened at the cold air, and Joel let the bra flip back, covering them once more. Joel’s hands snaked around your back and undid the bra with a ‘click.’ He guided the bra off your body and began to grope at you once more, this time with more passion, as he felt pure skin to skin contact. You whimpered, getting a weird feeling in your pussy at the way his fingers grazed your nipples. “Joel…” It was a quiet moan, barely a whisper, but Joel sure heard it. It rang in his ears, almost. His cock twitched at the noise, he was already addicted.
“You like it?” His voice was hushed, whispered into your ear. You nodded and bit your lip, a small and breathy “mhmm” leaving your lips. Joel's hands continued the groping movements, massaging your breasts almost, wanting to stay gentle for you. How badly he wanted to pinch your nipples and slap your tits as he fucked you while you hung off the bed, but this will do for now. He continued for a long time, before one of his hands snaked down your body, towards your stomach, down to your belly button and finally to where your jeans started. With one (skilled) hand, he unbuttoned them and slowly pushed his hand down your panties. Fuck. He’s supposed to be teaching you.
“I’m gonna touch your pussy now. It’s gonna feel good sweetie, have you ever played with yourself down here?” 
“N-no…” God, somehow, Joel got even harder hearing that. His heartbeat went up, he loved the fact you were so naive to it all, you definitely needed a man like him to teach you. It would be a waste for a bitch-boy like Xavier to take your pureness, no, you needed a real man to fuck you until you cried. 
Joel hand traced your skin, until he felt your clit. With a smirk on his face, that he was glad you couldn’t see, he began to rub your clit, which made you jump initially. But almost seconds later, you felt incredible pleasure as Joel rubbed circles into your bud.
“Hahhhh. Feels g-good Joel.” He hummed in response, feeling at peace with one hand groping your breast and one hand rubbing your clit. He wanted to wait until you were wet enough before fingering you, you did need a lot of prep for his fat cock. Your moans of pleasure were music to his ears, he loved the way you sounded. You felt him lift you up off his body, and slide out the way so you could sit back on the bed again.
“Let me take these off for you, baby.” Joel kissed your forehead before beginning to remove your pants. Your mind began to race, Joel always used nicknames like ‘sweetie’ or ‘sweetheart’ with you, but never baby. You had wondered if Joel ever saw you more as a friend, you saw him sorta like a mentor, someone to guide you, while also being one of your best friends, but the fact he called you baby made you second guess yourself. I mean, he was helping you prepare for your date tomorrow, so it couldn’t mean he was into you! Right?
“Your legs are so pretty, baby.” His rough hands rubbed your legs as softly as he could, feeling the warm flesh under his. You looked gorgeous like this, spread on his bread, practically naked. Only thing protecting your body from him was the small cloth covering your pussy, and he was seconds away from ripping it off your body. He wasted no time pulling them down, you aided him by lifting up your lower half for a few seconds to pull them off, and moving your legs to push them off completely. There you were, the love of his life, his everything, ready to be eaten like a beautiful apple off the tree. He waited so long for this, pumping his cock to the thought of doing every possible sexual thing to you every night. He dreamt of the way your body looked, and none of his dreams compared to the real thing, you were perfect in his eyes, and he wanted to make you his. 
Joel swiftly took off his shirt, revealing his chest to you, making you stare at him. He had smiled, softly, at you, allowing you to feel less nervous. It was only now you took a good look at his jeans, and there you saw it. The outline of his hard cock, it was a fucking giant! It was long and curved in his jeans, the thickness of it making you gulp. You had tried to say something, but Joel’s face was suddenly shoved in between your legs, and began to lick at your slit.
“Joel!” You moaned out, much louder than you anticipated, squirming around as he licked your pussy. You felt amazing, the mixture between his tongue flicking across your clit, to the way the tip of his fingers prodded your hole, it was pure ecstasy. You kept moaning as he continued to inflict the pleasure upon you, gripping the sheets of his bed as his face buried itself even deeper between your thighs.
“Feels so good… So good.” You moaned out, very drawn out, a weird feeling starting in your lower stomach. You only felt it for a short amount of time before Joel pulled away, a string of saliva connecting him and your pussy.
“You’re so fucking cute baby, let me feel you.” His fingers that went from simply prodding your hole began to push inside you, making you moan out at the way his two thick fingers pressed against your walls. You had covered your face with your hands, whining underneath your fingers at the way his fingers filled you. He couldn’t get enough of the way you reacted.
“Look at what you do to me…” His voice deepened, and you uncovered your face to see him rubbing against his cock. You gasped a little, his hands were so large but they seemed so small compared to his cock, the length and thickness making you curious.
“Is it hard?” You questioned, and his fingers pulled out of you, a small whimper leaving your lips.
“So hard. Wanna see?” You nodded slowly, curious to what it looked like. He unbuttoned his pants, revealing the top part of his boxers, and he slowly pulled them down. You sat up, eye level, and stared closely at it. Suddenly, his cock bounced up, hitting you on the nose with it, making you jump back and Joel lightly laughing.
“Touch it.” You let out your hand a little, touching the pink tip, making it twitch.
“Like this.” Joel grabbed your hand and guided it to wrap around his cock, a tight fist motion. You couldn’t wrap your hands around it all the way, however, which made Joel’s cock twitch once more.
“Good girl. Now move it up and down.” You nodded, looking up at him, and began to make the motion. He groaned, and you watched intensely as his foreskin pulled back to reveal the head of his cock, then went back to hide it once more. You continued this motion, Joel’s groans of satisfaction pushing you to continue further. Your head was then pushed forward, making your lips collide with the head of his cock.
“Yeah that’s right, lick it baby, put it in your mouth.” He kept roughly pushing your head, you forced your mouth open and gagged as Joel shoved your head into his cock. His hand, now pulling your hair, began to use you like a fuck doll while he shoved your head back and forth on his cock. It was rough, and his cock became slobbery with the amount of saliva you were producing from the gagging. He continued this, despite your whines and taps on his thigh, too enamored by the feeling of your warm mouth.
“Fuck baby. This is how you suck cock, you’re doing so well for a virgin.” His tone was sickly sweet, voice groaning in between words. Tears began forming in your eyes before he pulled your head back, letting you properly breathe. You took many deep breaths, coughing in the process as well, before Joel pet your head.
“Sorry, baby. I got a bit ahead of myself, didn’t I?” He let out a chuckle, and you nodded, feeling air come back into your lungs, and he bent down to kiss your puffy and drooling lips.
“I’m sorry baby, you’re just too cute to resist. Especially when you’re all ready for me like this. My gorgeous baby, all mine.” You felt your heart race at his words, all his? You didn’t understand, this was supposed to be a sex-ed lesson, but why was Joel acting like-
“Spread your legs baby.” Joel laid you back on the bed, and you hesitantly spread your legs, still unsure what were Joel’s intentions. He settled himself between your legs, lifting them to wrap them around his lower half. He tapped his cock on your navel a few times, making you twitch at the sensation.
“This might hurt, baby.” He began to push his cock between your lower lips, making you gasp at the sensation. Despite the lubrication you produced, it still hurt as he was pushing.
“Joel!” You groaned out, making him stop as he was halfway.
“Does it hurt, sweetheart?” You nodded, and Joel rubbed your thigh, a form of reassurance to help you with the pain. You both stared at each other, your chest moving up and down while you heavily breathed. Joel’s eyes bore deep into yours, admiring your beautiful flushed face, he thought you were the most beautiful girl in the world. He gulped, and continued to push into you as the moments passed. You winced in pain, and he shushed you in a sweet way, letting you whine as whispered small reassurances. Once his cock filled you, Joel looked back up at you, his body pinned over yours.
“How do you feel, baby?” You bit your lip.
“So… Full.” He smiled, grabbing your hand to kiss it.
“You look so pretty like this, no other girl can compare.” You internally winced at his words. You had a feeling this wasn’t a lesson anymore.
“T-Thank you Joel…” His lips planted against your own, and his hand squeezed yours while he drew his hips back. Slowly, he thrusted into you, you squeezed his hand and moaned into his mouth. He continued these movements, hips drawing back and forth at an agonizingly slow pace, he wanted so badly to hold your hips and fuck you until you came, but he held back the urge as he wanted to make you feel good, not only him.
“Fuck baby, you’re s-squeezing me.” His tone was low and shaky. You moaned at his movements, pain long gone as you wanted more.
“Feels good Joel. I like your d-dick.” This drove him over the edge, opting to speed up despite his brain telling him not to. Thankfully, you responded positively by letting out a loud moan and squeezing your eyes shut. His lips began to suck at your neck, thrusting into you at a fast pace now. You were overwhelmed, the feeling in your stomach coming back while he messily sucked at your neck. You gripped the sheets with one hand, and squeezed Joel’s hand at the same time, your throat not being able to form the right words.
“J-Joel. Feels funny…” 
“That means you’re gonna cum baby. Just let it happen baby, I’m gonna cum too.” Joel wanted to last long, he wanted to feel you squeeze his cock for hours, but he was too sensitive from the way your mouth felt earlier. You began to clamp down on his cock, releasing a high-pitched moan as you spasmed around his cock, his body not being able to take it anymore. With one last thrust, he came inside you, cock twitching as your pussy convulsed around him. You both held each other as your orgasms hit its peak, and Joel messily kissed your lips. You and Joel rode out your orgasms before he pulled his cock out, a mess from his cum and your wetness. He sighed and fell on the bed, next to you and took a minute to catch his breath, he was still an old man after all.
“So… That was sex?” You still were taking deep breaths, but Joel’s ‘lesson’ became a bit unclear towards the end.
“Yep.” He was tired, clearly, and he moved your position to be the little spoon, Joel’s arm wrapping around you. Your feeble mind, despite being very innocent, had assumed that Joel’s lesson wasn’t of pure intent, not by the way he was holding you like a lover would. You were slightly uncomfortable, one part telling you it was wrong to be with a man this old, the other liked the way Joel treated you. The issue was you only saw Joel as a friend, you had never seen him as anything more, but you were sure that now he saw you as something deeper.
“I think… I have to go h-” Joel shushed you, and pulled you closer against his warm chest.
“Go to sleep.” You wanted badly to resist, but your body and mind were far too tired to fight against you. You nodded, and cuddled into his hand and began to drift off.
The morning after wasn’t too bad, you woke up to see Joel was gone, and your clothes folded in a neat pile in the corner of the bed, a note on top of it.
‘Had work. See you later.’
You sighed, thanking the heavens you didn’t have to deal with the awkwardness. Maybe Joel did see you as a friend after all. You got dressed and quickly head to work, trying to avoid being seen leaving Joel’s apartment. You rushed over to job assignment, not before seeing a huge crowd of people. Curiously, you walked over to see what all the commotion was about, looking around at all the people. You saw a familiar face, Ellie, and pushed through the crowds of people to ask her.
“What happened?” Her face was of displeasure, and she hesitantly told you.
“Some guy got shot dead, bullet to the head. They don’t know who did it, they said he was showing signs of infection, but there’s no bite marks anywhere.”
“Who?” Ellie stayed quiet for a second, before sighing and telling you.
“Xavier.” Your mouth gaped open, tears forming in your eyes as you swallowed a sob, you didn’t want to believe it. You moved away from the crowd, right before FEDRA officers began to tell people to move away from the crime scene. Ellie was right by your side, rubbing your back, assuring you that it was okay.
Joel watched from a distance, a smirk on his face, knowing you only belonged to him. You were his, and now, he was yours as well. You just need a little more time to understand that.
.
taglist: @avengersfan25 @sloanexx​ @flowercrowns-goodvibes​ @aerangi​ @st4rb0y27 !! inbox me to join/remove from the taglist!!!
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auras-moonstone · 1 year
Note
can you write something of jack x shy!reader that are either working on a romcom together or she’s his interviewer?
hi! i actually really like how this turned out. hope you like it too💓
enchanted to meet you — jack champion
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word count: 1,409
pairing: jack champion x fem!interviewer!reader
summary: y/n feels scared for her first job as an interviewer but jack’s warming demeanour makes her feel more comfortable as the interview goes on.
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Y/N’S HANDS WERE SHAKY AND SHE CONSTANTLY HAD TO RUB THEM ON HER DRESS BECAUSE OF HOW SWEATY THEY WERE. To be fair, she was only 18 years old and doing her first interview. It was very sudden, she just started working on this known magazine and the woman who was supposed to go to the Scream premiere had an accident so they just sent the only person available: Y/N Y/L. And of course the person she had to interview was Jack fucking Champion—the six foot tall boy with unbelievable gorgeous factions and a killer smile.
Y/N was probably the youngest person in there. Everyone seemed to know each other and she was just there, alone and feeling extremely scared and anxious. She used to have a plan—start getting over her shyness with chill interviews so that in the future she could be ready to interview famous celebrities. But no, she was straight off sent to the premiere of one of the most successful franchises of all time. She was going to throw up.
The silhouette of the boy started to make his way to her “Hi!” his excited voice greeted her, pulling her out of her thoughts.
Y/N looked up, her eyes meeting a very bright brown set of eyes. The boy was even prettier in person (and taller). He was wearing a white tank top below his stylish black jacket and black trousers. He was so handsome. And did she mention he was really tall?
“Hi, sorry. I was lost in my thoughts” she apologised, her cheeks already turning red. That was a typical feature of her—always expect her to blush, her blood always betrayed her.
Jack was instantly enchanted by her sweet and soft voice. He had never felt so nervous during an interview—probably because he had never been interviewed by someone his age, and certainly not by anyone close to being as breathtaking as her.
“It’s okay” he assured her, his smile so shiny it almost blinded her.
Y/N smiled thankful “First, I’d like to congratulate you on your movie! I got to see you on Avatar and thought you did an amazing job. It’s fantastic that you got to work in such iconic franchises! Were you a fan of the Scream movies before getting the role?” her voice, thankfully, didn’t show how insanely nervous she was. But the hand holding the mic certainly did. Jack noticed her shaky grip, and he wanted so bad to put his hand on hers to comfort her, but he knew it would be too much.
“Thank you so much, you’re really sweet. And yeah, it’s honestly a dream come true” Jack pulled his dazzling smile and Y/N couldn’t help but take a quick look at it. He had perfect teeth, holy shit. “I watched the movies before we started filming and I absolutely loved them!”.
“Can I ask who your favourite Ghostface is?” Y/N questioned him. Very original, Y/N, she said to herself. Why did they hire her? She was really not qualified for this.
“Oh, I love that question!” Jack exclaimed. “You know, I always say Stu but now that I have re-watched the movies and read some opinions online, I also really like Jill! What are yours?”
Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise, she was not expecting him to ask her questions. It wasn’t usual during interviews for reporters to be questioned “Oh- I- I think Roman, Stu and Jill” she answered nervously. His eyes were so strongly focused on her that she almost melted on the spot.
“Roman is also a really good choice. You have great taste! And by the way, I love your outfit” Jack complimented her, looking at the black dress—it was like the one Courtney Cox used at the beginning of Scream 2. Y/N stood still. Did he know the effect those words had on her? Because she was two seconds away from collapsing.
“Thank you for saying that… your outfit is amazing too” she brushed it off with a little laugh.
“Thank you! Look, I have ghostface socks!” he said in an enthusiastic tone. She look down to see the black socks with patters of the mask and couldn’t help but smile.
“That’s adorable” the comment slipped out of her mouth before she could stop it. But far from being uncomfortable, Jack’s smile grew bigger. “Did you all know who was playing Ghostface from the beginning or was it something you found out towards the end of the shooting?”
“Actually, we didn’t know who would be playing Ghostface until the revealing scene” he answered, and admired the way her eyes shone in awe. “I take it you are a really big fan of the franchise”.
Y/N let out a nervous laugh, feeling a bit embarrassed “Is my enthusiasm that readable? I’m sorry, I literally grew up watching those movies”
“And now you are at the premiere interviewing the cast! That’s amazing!” he exclaimed loudly.
His happy aura was really contagious and it made her feel a little less shy “Well, thank you, Jack. Do you have any future projects?”
“Yes! I actually did a movie with Liam Neeson that will be coming out soon called Retribution and another one called Freaky Tales! So yeah, I’m very excited” he balanced on his feet.
“That’s amazing! Congratulations” Y/N gave him a genuine smile. Then they heard someone calling his name, telling him it was time to go. “Thank you for you time, Jack. Hope you felt comfortable”.
“I did! It was fun, and you were excellent” Jack smiled down at her. The team kept calling him but he wouldn’t move, trying to decide if he should just ask for her instagram or if it would be too weird. Maybe she had a partner, god he hoped not. Before he could even ask her name, Mason came to him and grabbed his arm.
“Jack, we have to go” his friend told him. Jack sighed, waving at the beautiful interviewer and cursing himself for not being quick enough.
Y/N turned around, ready to walk back to the van, completely wonderstruck by the charming young actor. She just prayed that wasn’t the last time they saw each other.
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THE INTERVIEW WENT VIRAL IN LESS THAN AN HOUR, AND EVEN FOR A FAMOUS COMPANY, IT WAS UNEXPECTED. The people were going wild on the comment section, pointing out how the actor looked at his interviewer in complete amazement. No one would have thought it was going to have such a repercussion. Especially not Y/N.
championslover man was in AWE
liked by masonthegooding
landrydaylight pls the way he looks at her i need them to be together!!!
liked by masonthegooding, jennaortega, baileybass, jamieflatters and more.
haunted.ethan “look, i have ghostface socks” really jack??? 😂😂😂
devyn_nekoda i can’t believe he said that omg
jackchampion I WAS NERVOUS OKAY LET ME BE
ghostfacelandry the evolution on this two min interview was so heartwarming??? like she was really shy at first but then you could tell she got used to his presence omg i adore them
jacksrep the way she blushes!! girl is honestly strong cause i would’ve passed out from having him in front of me
spiderboyjack let’s go to the important thing: does anyone have her insta????
championslover i just found it, it’s y/n.y/l/n (holy shit she’s so pretty!!!)
jacksgf oh jack… i get it now!!!
jackchampion championslover thank you for your service 🫡
championslover oh he’s down BAD
liked by jackchampion
jackchampion started following you
Y/N stared at the notification in shock. And then her heart stopped when she saw another notification, this time it was a direct message.
hey! it’s jack
i really wanted to get your instagram the day of the interview but honestly i was too scared
hi jack!
well, i’m glad your fandom (who honestly should be called by the fbi) found it.
hahaha me too tbh
and i’m going to be forward, i can’t stop thinking about you ever since the interview and it was killing me that i didn’t even get your name (by the way i’m praying you don’t have a partner).
i can’t stop thinking about you either (nope, i’m single)
you made me feel really comfortable, and that is not something i can say about a lot of people… especially not those who i talked to for two minutes
i don’t know.. you give that special kind of vibe very few people have
you know how to make someone blush ☺️
i heard it was your first interview. i can’t believe it, you were amazing!
thank you! i was so nervous but it could’ve gone way worse
you made it easier, you were really sweet
i’m glad i was your first interview then :)
i was wondering if you’d like to have dinner with me tomorrow? i’d really like to get to know you better
i would love to, jack!
great! send me your address and i’ll pick you up at seven.
can’t wait 🤍
me neither😫 wanna facetime???
sure! text me xxx xxxx
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honeyjars-sims · 2 months
Text
3.23 Making an Impression
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Part 1 of 2
It’s the day of my hike with Lucy and Lacey. I somehow manage to convince a few other coworkers to come with us even though a lot of us aren’t particularly athletic. Robi, Clara, Quinn, and Lilly are joining us and I’m feeling pretty good about my plan to help Lucy make friends.
While we’re waiting for Lucy and her brother to show up, Lilly shows off her hiking fit. She always has the craziest outfits and they’re usually themed, which is fun.
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Today she’s wearing a fishing hat with fabric fish attached to the brim. As Lilly poses for us, Lacey swats at them and they swirl around each other like they’re in a chase. “What’s with the fishing hat?” Lacey asks her.
Lilly starts untangling the fish. “It’s the most outdoorsy thing I own,” she explains. “I thought it really completed the outfit.”
“I think it’s cute,” Clara tells her. “No one said you had to be practical.”
“I don’t think Lilly could be practical if she tried,” Robi laughs.
“I’ll take that as a compliment!”
“I meant it as one!”
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“I think that’s Lucy,” Quinn says, looking toward the entrance to the trails. She abruptly slaps herself on the neck, which makes all of us stare at her in confusion. “Mosquito,” she explains, her face flushing red. “They always eat me up.”
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Lucy and her crew approach us. A guy I assume is her brother is with her; he looks like the stereotypical Tartosan with his jet black hair and I can see a family resemblance. There's another girl with them, which is great because if there's one thing this trip is lacking, it's female energy.
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Lucy introduces them as her brother Paul and his best friend Danica.
Once the introductions are done, we all start making our way up the hiking trail.
“What do you two do?” Clara asks Paul and Danica.
“We’re both students at Foxbury,” Danica answers. “We’re in undergrad now, but I want to be a Psychologist and Paul’s going to be a doctor.”
“Wow, that’s really cool!” Clara replies.
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“What kind of doctor do you want to be, Paul?” inquires Lacey.
“I’m not sure yet,” Paul admits. “I want to wait until I’ve done a few clinical rotations in med school before I settle on anything.”
“That’s really wise,” Lilly says, sounding impressed.
All of the girls make their way towards Paul as soon as they hear the word "doctor." They start talking to him about his bright future.
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Wow, Paul, it’s so cool that you got a full ride scholarship!
You must be really smart!
I love when guys have a strong work ethic!
I hate to admit that I start feeling a bit irritated. A few weeks ago they all gushed over me when they saw my drawing, but now it doesn’t seem as impressive.
We come to a cliff that Lucy informs us is a popular climbing spot. “If you feel confident in your climbing skills you can go up this way. Otherwise the trail takes you to the top,” she explains.
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“I think I’ll climb up,” Paul says confidently. The girls look at him in admiration. I can practically see the hearts forming in their eyes.
I don’t know what possesses me to do it, but I blurt out, “Yeah, me, too.”
As soon as we begin to scale the rocks, I realize I made a big mistake. Why would I think climbing was a good idea? I don’t have any experience and Paul is clearly in better shape. Of course, he reaches the top of the wall with no problem and I’m left struggling halfway up. All I can think about is how badly I need a cigarette.
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“Johnny, do you want to just climb back down?” Lacey calls up, with more concern in her voice than I feel comfortable acknowledging.
“No, I’m good,” I lie. It takes what seems like forever for me to get near the top. Every passing second just fills me with more embarrassment.
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As I approach the top of the cliff, I see Paul crouch down at the edge and reach his hand out. “Need some help?” he offers.
No, nope, not going to happen! I scream internally, but then I start to lose my footing. Faced with the possibility of this horrible moment being my last one on earth and forever cementing me in everyone's memories as The Dumbass Who Fell Off a Mountain Trying to Impress Girls, I see no better option than to take Paul’s hand. I feel defeated, but at least I still have the rest of my life ahead of me to try and save face.
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“I have a lot of climbing experience,” Paul tells me once I’m secure at the top of the cliff.
“No problem, I was just trying to be funny.” Liar! Now that the moment is over and done with, I realize I’m more embarrassed by trying to engage in some sort of macho competition for the girls’ attention than I am in my lack of skill. It’s not the sort of thing I usually do.
“Oh, okay,” Paul responds. He doesn’t sound convinced but at least he doesn’t call me out.
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“Are you okay?” Lacey asks me once we catch up with the others.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I tell her. Just a bruised ego is all.
“We’re almost to the top!” Lucy exclaims. We round the corner and Lucy guides us to the edge. “Be careful,” she warns, and I ignore that she’s looking right at me when she says it.
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Cautiously, I peek down over the edge. I’m surprised at how much of the city I can see. It doesn’t seem like we went that high up, but laid out below us are hundreds of buildings and trees that seem surreal in their tininess. “Cool,” is all I can manage to say.
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“I can see the studio!” Lilly points below, and the rest of us look excitedly at the building we spend 5 days a week in. It’s funny how something we see everyday seems so much more impressive when it’s viewed it from a different angle.
“There’s where the food truck parks!” Clara shouts and we all turn our heads like we’ve discovered a hidden treasure.
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“Great, now I want tacos,” I joke, and I feel the embrace of laughter surrounding me. Maybe the day won’t be a total waste.
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thespottedfeather · 8 months
Text
Awakening
Ominis x f!MC oneshot
Aged up, seventh year, very minor smut, possible spoilers for Hogwarts Legacy
touching self/kissing/talk of inappropriate acts
prompt: Y/N Y/L/N realises she wants to do naughty things with Ominis Gaunt. The boy who hates her and blames her for his best friends' descent into the dark arts.
words: 2.3k
--
Nothing was going as you had planned. Nothing was going as you had wanted. When you first started attending Hogwarts you had just wanted to fit in and be a normal witch, make friends, learn to use magic and find your lot in life. You’d never considered having a physical relationship with a boy before, it just hadn’t even been on your radar. You had once thought that perhaps there was something wrong with you that you weren’t interested in fooling around with others your age. Just like the muggle teenagers you’d known before, the other teenagers at Hogwarts seemed to be doused with hormones that had at least one pair a week getting detention for getting caught doing who knew what in a broom closet somewhere.
Maybe you were just weird. Another thing to make you stand out from the rest. First, your magic hadn’t emerged until much later, leading you to start Hogwarts in your fifth year. Then, you could somehow see traces of ancient magic which led you to become the target of Ranrok and Rookwood. THEN, you had been given watch over the repository and were now the sole living Keeper of that ancient magic. Now, here you were, starting your seventh year at Hogwarts and just like your magic, your hormones had come to screaming life much later than most, as soon as you saw him across the great hall.
Not your best friend Sebastian Sallow, the objectively attractive Slytherin who had taken you under his wing and helped you fight against Ranrok and complete the Keepers trials. Not the boy you’d spent most of fifth year with, leading to rumours that you were dating and were going to run away together and elope. Not the one you had become so close to that you knew basically everything about each other. No, the reason your heart was thudding so hard in your chest it made your ears ring was because of the boy, no, man, who sat beside Sebastian laughing at something the brunette had said.
Ominis Gaunt.
The heir of Slytherin. The most eligible bachelor at Hogwarts. The only guy you’d ever looked at and wondered ‘what if?’. The one who hated you beyond measure. After Sebastian’s delve into the Dark Arts at the end of fifth year, Ominis, whom you had only a shaky acquaintanceship at best, blamed you for his best friend’s decline. You had all agreed not to turn Sebastian in for the murder of his uncle, but Ominis had since only ever regarded you with disdain. He had never said that he blamed you for it, but what other reason could there possibly be for his retreat from you? He practically stopped talking to you altogether, and anytime you were forced to interact he seemed to be in pain just being around you. Eventually you just stopped trying to rekindle your budding friendship and let him be.
You looked at him now, his perfect pale skin and blonde hair seeming to glow in the light of the floating candles. His crystal blue eyes bright with laughter, and his body, gosh, he had grown up in the summer. His broad shoulders held with proud, perfect, posture, and the bearing of a man who knew he was devastatingly handsome. How could he not? Sure, Ominis was blind, but he just oozed charisma. Perhaps that was why he was so snarky all the time, to stop all the girls, and some boys, who only wanted him for his looks from getting too close.
It didn’t matter. Because you, despite your newfound libido, would also, never get the chance to find out who he was behind that snark. Ominis hated you, and he probably always would.
--
Weeks had past since the start of the school year, and you couldn’t have been happier. Your classes were going well, the Quidditch season was due to begin soon, and you’d been getting a strange amount of male attention of late. You supposed you had grown up a little over the summer, but as you never really thought of those kinds of things before it wasn’t something you’d noticed until you had started getting winks and flirtatious comments from some of the braver boys in class. Even Sebastian, who you knew thought of you as a sister, had commented that you had grown quite beautiful. Right before he threatened to break Garreth Weasley’s arm if he dared to wrap it around your shoulders again while sitting beside you in the great hall. You had laughed then, but now you stood staring into a full-length mirror in the undercroft trying to determine what exactly had become so appealing about you.
You had taken off your robe and were turning this way and that looking yourself over. You supposed your clothes did fit a bit more snug in certain areas now. Your breasts had filled out some more and caused your blouse to strain ever so slightly, and your hips flared out from your waist in a curve you might have described as pleasant if you weren’t worried about feeling vain. You pulled a few poses to check out your figure at different angles and wondered what it might be light to have somebody else touch your new curves in more than a fleeting hug. You hesitantly cupped your breasts and gave a light squeeze trying to imagine somebody else’s hands doing the touching. Your mind immediately only placed one person in that place and your cheeks burnt hot red in the mirror as you pictured Ominis’ deft hands stroking across your body.
“What are you doing here?” a cold voice spoke from the doorway making you jump.
“Ominis?” you squeaked out turning to face the object of your very inappropriate imaginations. Thank goodness he couldn’t see what you had been doing, your core still pulsed at the idea of him touching you. Having him in front of you now, looking so very perfect, nearly had a whimper escaping your lips.
“Who else would it be?” he asked as he sauntered over, “Sebastian is at Quidditch practice,”
“I know that” you said weakly backing up as he got closer, “I was just, not expecting company,” you blurted out.
“You sound flustered Y/L/N, what were you doing before I got here?” he asked raising his was towards you an assessing look on his features.
“Nothing,” you said, much too quickly.
“Somehow, I feel like I walked in on something I shouldn’t have,” he teased, “But you are alone…” he trailed off and tilted his head slightly to the side, crystal eyes not quite meeting you.
“I wasn’t doing anything,” you stated, “I was just looking in the mirror,”
“Looking in the mirror?” he asked and it struck you that this was the first conversation you had had with Ominis where he didn’t appear to want to run away.
“Trying to figure out what all the fuss is about,” you told him and turned back to the mirror not able to keep looking at the gorgeous man before you without doing or saying something you’d regret.
“What do you mean?” he asked, and you realised you could still see him behind you in the reflection, so you tried to keep your eyes on yourself.
“I’ve been getting…attention, this year I don’t normally get,” you told him truthfully, if only to keep the conversation going, maybe you could be friends now, maybe he had forgiven you, “I don’t understand why,”
“I see,” he murmured, “Well, I don’t, but I get what you mean,” he jested making you giggle. He seemed to think for a moment before nodding his head and stepping up close behind you so that you could almost feel his body heat.
“Ominis?” you asked cheeks burning hot again after only just cooling, voice barely a sound, “What are you doing?”
“I’m interested in ‘seeing what all the fuss is about’,” he stated and raised his wand allowing it’s red glow to illuminate your body as he traced your curves without touching you, “Is it true?” he asked as he continued his painstakingly slow mapping of your body.
“Is what true?” you asked him, mouth gone dry from how intimate this situation was and he wasn’t even touching you.
“What Sebastain keeps saying,” he says, “That you keep staring at me?”
“Oh…” you squeaked, not realising you’d been caught in your sneaky admiration across the great hall at meal times, “Umm…yes?” you asked, not sure where this was going.
“Why?” he asked you as he finished tracing your left side and deftly moved his wand across to your right.
“Well, umm,” your heart a beating fast now, and your could feel it everywhere, “because, well…”
“Because…?” he asked drawing you out, allowing the tip of his wand to gently, oh so gently, stroke along your hip. You couldn’t take it anymore. The words tumbled out in a blur.
“Because you’re the most gorgeous person I’ve ever seen, and I can’t help but want to exist in the glow of your presence forever. I want to be close to you, I want to be able to touch you, I want you to touch me back in so many ways, if only I was worthy of such a gift. But I know that you hate me and so I just look at you from afar and dream of a time when you didn’t, when I got to enjoy your cunning wit, your incredible intelligence, your unending kindness, and be one of the people you care for right beside Sebastian and Anne,” your breath came out in pants and you flushed hot and cold all at once from embarrassment and dread at the thought you may have just ruined your one chance to renew a friendship with this absolutely beautiful man.
Ominis’ wand stopped moving against your body as he stared mouth slightly agape at your confession. You blinked hurriedly trying to regain some semblance of decorum.
“But, I’ll stop, I won’t bother you anymore, I’m sorry,” you mumbled and started to move away only to be stopped by Ominis’ cool hand gripping your elbow gently but determined.
“I don’t hate you,” he said gently, “What gave you that idea?”
“After fifth year, you started to avoid me,” you said glad that he was focusing on that part of your outburst instead of the more embarrassing parts, “You blame me for Sebastian, I know, and it’s ok, I’ve never resented you for it,”
“I don’t blame you for what Sebastian did,” he stated, “I backed off because I thought you loved him,”
“I don’t love Sebastian, I mean I do, as a brother,” you explained, shocked that Ominis had seemed to believe the rumours, “I’ve never looked at a guy with that thought it mind until this year,” you stopped, “Why would you have to back off?”
“Well, I thought that would be obvious,” he said, “because, how did you put it? ‘I want to be close to you, I want to be able to touch you, I want you to touch me back, if only I was worthy of such a gift’,” his voice was soft, a gentle purr directly into your ear, shocking you as you hadn’t realised, he’d moved so close.
“I…I had no idea,” you said, “I’m not good with emotional subtleties,” you explained, “I only realised this year that I even wanted to be close to anyone in that way,”
“and why is that?” he asked
“Because I’m weird?” you asked
“Not that Y/N, why did you realise this year?”
You were silent for a moment and turned to face him, looking up into his crystal eyes, getting lost in the galaxies within them, “because I saw you and my whole body caught on fire,” you stated bluntly.
“You can’t just say that kind of thing,” he said a lopsided grin on his face, “It’s very inappropriate, a man could get ideas,”
“Do you want to know what I was really doing when you came in here?” you asked, feeling brave.
“Is it going to give me ideas?” he asked tilting his head again in that way that drove you mad.
“I was touching myself,” you said and took his hand that wasn’t holding his wand and placed in on your waist, his fingers twitched against you and you guided his hand up to your ribs, “and thinking of you,”
“Y/N…” he groaned fingers gripping you slightly, “this is highly inappropriate,” he said walking you backwards until your back pressed against the stone of the wall. He braced his other arm above your head on the wall, the red glow of his wand illuminating his face in a way that highlighted the masculine lines of his face. Your hands lifted to rest on his chest, revelling in the feel of his tensile muscles beneath the thin cotton of his shirt.
“I’m beginning to realise I want to do all kinds of inappropriate things with you Ominis,” you whispered.
“If we do this Y/N, I won’t be able to walk away again,” he said, his lips brushing against your own with each word, “If you decide you want another, I will not let that man live,”
“Merlin,” you moaned at the tone of his voice, “Just kiss me already,”
His lips were soft but demanding when they crashed against your own. A needy moan filled the air, and you weren’t sure which one of you it was that uttered the depraved sound. The kiss seemed to both last forever and not last long at all. Ominis’ body pressed up against yours and you felt deliciously trapped between him and the wall.
“You’re mine,” he stated, “I’m not letting you go again,”
“Took you guys long enough,” Sebastian’s voice called out happily causing you and Ominis to jerk apart, “I was beginning to think I’d have to lock you up in a broom closet together until you saw sense,”
“Go away, would you?” Ominis snapped making you giggle.
“Oh Ominis, you have to at least take her to dinner first,” Sebastian teased before laughing manically and running away as Ominis sprang towards him with the intention of whacking him upside the head.  
--
Send me prompts :)
-Feather-
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violetsaffron5 · 2 years
Text
Love the Way You Lie
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Ao3 | Masterlist | Taglist | Discord 18+ | Socials |
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Pairing: toxic!gojo x toxic!reader
“High off of love, drunk from her hate, it's like I'm huffing paint and I love her, the more I suffer, I suffocate and right before I'm about to drown she resuscitates me, she fucking hates me.” He doesn’t want you to leave, but he’s constantly pushing you away. Nobody ever said leaving Gojo Satoru was going to be easy, especially when he decides he wants you to stay. Fic inspired by Love the Way You Lie by Eminem.
Words: 5.4k
CW: toxic relationship, fingering, overstimulation, vaginal sex, Gojo being an asshole, slight dacryphilia, breeding, rough sex, creampie
AN: This is my entry for @zorotits Ex's and Oh's collab and I had so much fun writing Gojo being a little shit.
AN2.0: this fic takes inspo from Love The Way You Lie, however there is no physical abuse! This is definitely a type of relationship I think a lot of people can relate to, so if this something that's hard for you to read or triggering, please skip!
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Being new to Tokyo Tech, you decided to accept Shoko’s invitation and go out to the bars after work one day. You didn’t expect your life to change that night by meeting Gojo Satoru, who happened to show up, complaining Shoko was keeping the new girl to herself.
The two of you hit it off immediately, finding common ground in your dislike for the higher ups, and your desire to change the Jujutsu world for the better. After listening to his smooth voice and honeyed words for the better part of the evening you went back to his penthouse with him.
It didn’t take long for your legs to be entwined, lips locked in a tender embrace, an instant mutual attraction where your future seemed so bright, high off each other's love that slowly turned into a sickening love-hate.
After a few nights together he went to the higher-ups, insisted he be the one to train with you, to take you out on missions. Even in the beginning, he never wanted you far from him, until he was ready to push you away.
It’s the kind of relationship you hear about, only seen in the movies where after every heated argument you’re pushed against the wall, or on top of him, hands around his throat as he thrusts into you with reckless abandon.
You hate it, but you also can’t help but love how you get lost in each other’s touch after every fight. And you love him too much to truly walk away for good. You say you’re going to leave, but you’re never really gone.
At some point in your relationship boundaries cease to exist, and trust went out the window months ago, the way the two of you were always looking through each other’s phones, computers and even stooping so low as to read work emails.
“Where are you going?” He asks as you grab the duffle bag filled with your things, headed for the front door.
“I can’t do this anymore. I’m leaving.” You answer, cheeks stained with tears.
“No, you’re not.” He gives a wry, pissed off chuckle before another argument sets in.
More yelling, more tears and after it’s all said and done you end up making up the same way you always do, promising it’ll never happen again.
And things would be fine for a while after that - when things were good between you, they were great.
His penthouse would be filled with joy and laughter as you watch movies, holding onto one another, but inevitably you would get fed up, try leaving once again.
Both of your words are filled with venom when you fight, argue and scream, as objects are thrown across the room and broken against the wall in frustration because he’s so intense, and so are you, fiery and passionate. It’s too much together.
You know it but it’s so hard to let go because you love him so much.
He makes a mountain out of a molehill, seeing a work related text from Ijichi on your phone, shattering the screen in the palm of his hand in anger as he accuses you of seeing another man behind his back, and in response you would throw the stand his precious glasses sit on, watching it shatter as soon as it hits the ground. You stare each other down, neither relenting until your bags are packed and you’re leaving once again, falling back into the same pattern.
He says he hates routines but he sure seems to love this one.
“Baby, please, come back,” he begs quietly outside the bedroom door of your apartment when you refuse to let him in after your hundredth break up, “it wasn’t you, baby, it was me. This one’s on me. Let me in, let me say I’m sorry.”
He always comes, flowers in hand. He always brings your favorites.
And after a while of hearing his strained voice through the door, you open it and accept the gift, you always do. He always knows what to do and say to bring a smile to your face, the tears that were streaming ten minutes ago slowly forgotten as he wipes the last of them away with his thumb, promising it’ll never happen again.
He says you’ll both work on your attitudes and tempers, and learn how to communicate better with one another. You both promise to never use such violent words against one another, promise to never say things you don’t mean again.
It never happens, and you���re both at fault.
He kisses you sweetly, whispers sweet nothings and apologies in your ear until you’re writhing in pleasure underneath him, wrapped in his arms in the morning, makeup still smeared from your tears of pain and pleasure the night prior.
But you can’t keep doing this, you know you can’t. You’re too deep in this cycle of destruction and the only way to stop is for one of you to finally walk away.
So you push his arms off of you, “don’t touch me. I can’t keep doing this Satoru.”
“I thought we made up last night, what the fuck happened already?” He’s following you out of your room like a lost puppy, “you can’t leave me. I can’t lose another person I love.”
“I can’t keep going down this path with you. This is the last time. I mean it.”
“Okay.” He answers quietly, wrapping his arms around your shoulders, “we’ll get it right this time. I swear.”
He says he’s sorry, it’ll never happen again, just like all the other times before, even though you know it’s all a lie.
And you always did love his lies.
It only took a few weeks this time, before your back is pressed against the wall of your apartment, tears running down your face, unable to catch your breath as you press your palms into your eyes and tug at the roots of your hair because it’s over this time.
And you really mean it.
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Staring at yourself in the mirror of the upscale restaurant bathroom you’re currently standing in, you look over your makeup while adding a little extra lipstick before throwing the tube back into your clutch purse and moving the necklace you’re wearing to sit in the center of your chest again.
You sigh deeply to yourself, this is a place you and Satoru had come to several times during the course of your relationship. You know you shouldn’t be thinking about your ex while you’re out on a date with another man, but the fact that you are likely means you’re really not ready to put yourself back out there.
Shoko had come over a few weeks ago, during one of the times you were having a breakdown, ready to run back to Satoru’s arms. She brought several bottles of alcohol, reminded you of why you broke up again and that you were adamant about not going back to him this time. So, she suggested you put yourself back out there and try dating someone else for a change.
A few too many shots later and you agreed with her, downloading a dating app to your phone, the two of you giggling into the night while making the profile.
That’s how you ended up here, out with a window. A compromise, you told yourself, someone who has a foot in the Jujutsu world you don’t have to lie about your daily life to, and someone who couldn’t manage to be as much of an asshole or nearly as emotionally stunted as the man you fell in love with.
“Everything okay?” Your date asks as you make your way back to the table and take your seat across from him. He’s attractive, clean cut with raven hair, deep brown eyes where you can barely see his pupils but still incredibly beautiful. He works a desk job in accounting for some bank you’ve never heard of.
“Yeah, everything’s great,” you smile at him, “just freshening up my makeup.”
He cocks his head to the side while smiling, “you look great, er, beautiful, I mean.”
You smile back and sigh, the first date you’ve had since Satoru and it’s… fine. He’s nice enough, talks a lot about his desk job, tries to relate to you about how important his own secondary job as a window is in your world. You sit and listen, nodding along as you play with the straw of your drink, hand resting on your chin.
He does most of the talking, asks what kind of movies you like, what your favorite color is. Simple, surface level questions which were meant to get to know one another but you just couldn’t be less interested if you tried.
There’s no passion in his voice, rarely any sort of influx in his tone - just monotone, droning on and on. It’s too much to ask, you know that, to go on a single date and run into someone who could keep your interest; after all, it’s not every day you run into someone who dislikes the higher ups and has a desire to change the way the world you live in works. Hell, you doubt the man across from you even knows there are higher ups in charge.
“Yeah, I’ll have a tequila sunrise, no tequila. That shit’s nasty.”
“Sir, that would just be orange juice and grenadine.”
“Perfect. Extra grenadine.”
You still at the familiar voice coming from behind you, eyes widening as Satoru comes to stand next to you, hands in his pocket, a saccharine smile spread across his face.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” You hiss incredulously, looking at him horrified and embarrassed.
Satoru looks at you from behind his dark square shades with a raised eyebrow, feathering his jaw.
You look good, all things considered, with the dress you’re wearing pinching at your waist, pushing your breasts together in the most alluring way, leaving just enough of your cleavage exposed to still be classy.
You were looking to get fucked tonight and he does not like that one bit.
Satoru let himself fall in too deep with you, in over his head and he tried to push you away over and over again but he also couldn’t bear the thought of living this lonely, sad existence without you. So a tug of war began in your relationship. He knows you’re suffocating because of him, so he tried to stay away this time, but when Shoko let it slip you were going out tonight with a window-
Well, he couldn’t stay away any longer.
He knows you can do better than that - he'd rather accept you running off with Nanami behind his back because at least he would treat you like a queen, in the ways Satoru never could. Hell, he’d even accept you defecting and running off to follow Suguru.
But a window?
That’s just a disgrace.
Satoru points behind him to a woman at a booth sucking her teeth, arms folded over her chest, one leg crossed over the other bouncing in annoyance as she glares at you from across the room, “I’m on a date too. Saw you here, thought I’d come say hi.”
“Great. I hope you treat her better than you treated me.”
Satoru opens his mouth, ready to retort, but your date cuts in. He's clearly nervous, a little sweaty now because he clearly knows who The Strongest is. He shifts in his seat slightly with wide eyes that could bulge out of his head at any moment.
“You’re G-Gojo Satoru?”
“The one and only,” Satoru replies cockily, “so you guys fuck yet or what?”
“Oh my god, Satoru, that is none of your business!”
He laughs, “okay, well I’ll take that as a no then.”
“Take it however you want and just leave us alone.” You’re seething, of course he’s out on a date and of course it just happens to be at the same place you’re at.
Rather than leaving, Satoru sits next to you, making himself at home, spreading his long legs out under the table and spreading them wide, just to take up as much space as humanly possible. He snakes his arm around your shoulder and you stiffen from the contact, unable to help the jolt that's sent between your legs after not having felt his smooth hands on your body for so long when he gently caresses your exposed shoulder with his thumb.
“Who-Why is he here?” Your date looks at you, an expression just as mortified as your own.
“He’s my-”
“Boyfriend.”
“Ex.” You clarify as Satoru rolls his eyes from behind his glasses because that’s just semantics.
Your date purses his lips, looking between the two of you before clearing his throat, “right, well, this is a lot, so I’m going to head out. It was, uh, nice meeting you.”
“Ouch, first date, huh? That sucks.” Satoru laughs loudly as your date exits the booth, grabs his coat jacket and makes his way out of the restaurant.
“Fuck you. Move so I can leave.”
“No, I don’t think I will. In fact, I’ll just have Jazmyne join us, that’ll be fun to watch.” Satoru smiles at you, ready to call his date over to your table.
“You’ve already ruined my evening, Satoru. The least you can do is move out of my way so I can go home alone,” you hiss, blood boiling at his antics. You wouldn’t put it past him to have planned this entire thing just so you couldn’t go out with someone else, “and after tonight I never want to see you again.”
He chuckles, looking at you with a sly grin, “sure, babe.”
“I put in a transfer request. I’m done, we can’t be near each other.”
Satoru stills at your comment, looking you up and down, “to where?”
You sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose, “away from here, away from you. I was serious when I said I can’t keep doing this.”
He watches you, the way small tears prick the corner of your eyes, the way you swallow thickly and your shoulders slump slightly. You’re telling the truth, you really want to leave and be done. After a few minutes of silence, he moves, letting you out of the booth.
Satoru noticed before your date left that he didn’t bother paying, leaving the bill to you. You’re clearly too upset to have realized as well, so he sighs, pulling out his wallet and throwing too many bills on the table for the dinner you didn’t even order yet. Pursing his lips, he watches your hips sway as you make your way out of the restaurant deciding to follow suit, because there’s no way he’s just going to let you leave.
“What are you doing?” Satoru is standing beside you, on the sidewalk just outside of the restaurant, hands in his pocket.
“Taking you home?” He answers as if it’s the most obvious answer in the world.
“Just - go back to your date.”
“Nah, gotta make sure you get home safe.”
There’s no point in trying to argue with him, you’ve learned well enough that it will just result in more tears and pain, and you’d probably give in and take him back at the end of it. So, you make your way to your apartment with him in tow.
And despite wearing heels, the bastard doesn’t even offer to warp you there.
“You know,” he says as soon as you enter the hall of your apartment, “if I were that shitty little window, I would have had you spread out across the table-”
“No, you wouldn’t have Satoru,” you say exasperatedly, opening the door to your apartment, “you would have been too busy arguing with me over something trivial and meaningless.”
“I don’t  want to fight all the time.” He hopes you can hear the sincerity in his voice.
You scoff and roll your eyes, closing the door but his foot blocks the path before he easily pushes it open, entering your space, “right, I can totally tell. It doesn’t matter anyway, it’s over, we’re over and I’d like to move on and pretend we never happened.”
“You sure about that?” He smirks, amused.
“Satoru, I don’t care what you think, just leave.”
“Baby, you’re so cute when you lie.” He coos, voice low and smooth as he removes his glasses, crystalline eyes shining in the light of your apartment as he walks over to you.
“You went out with another man tonight, wearing a dress I bought you. You’re also wearing that shade of lipstick I always loved on you when you’d be between my legs,” he runs his thumb over your bottom lip as he watches in amusement, “wearing the necklace I got you for our anniversary. You even let me follow you back to your place without so much as a mild argument.”
You roll your eyes and click your tongue. All of those things were just a coincidence, you certainly didn’t mean to pick out several items he bought for you, and the only reason you let him follow you was because you already know there’s no way to get him to leave you alone despite how many times you tell him to.
“Satoru, I can’t keep doing this back and forth with someone who doesn’t love me, so just get out.”
“You think I don’t love you?” He laughs, “maybe if you keep this shit up I won’t.”
You stare at him, pissed but not the least bit surprised about what he just said, always turning it around. It’s the same thing all over again. He doesn’t want you to leave, but is constantly pushing you away.
“See this is what I’m talking about, every single time, Satoru! You don’t want me so we fight non-stop and then you say things will change and they never do! It’s just lies, all of it has always been lies.”
He stares at you for a long moment, before you’re speaking at the same time.
“That’s not true-”
“Just get out-”
The two of you are arguing now, such a familiar sight, speaking over one another, arguing about your relationship. You’re trying to make a point about how hot and cold he’s always been but his lips are on yours before you can finish your thought, hand on the back of your head, holding you close to him so you won't push away, you’re gripping onto his silky button up shirt with no plans of letting go.
Satoru pushes you against the wall with enough force the picture hanging in your entryway rattles on its hook while lifting you by the back of your thighs to wrap your legs around his waist. It’s an automatic response, the way your hips move on their own to rut against him, you can’t help it. 
“Gonna,” he sighs against you, “gonna make a mess on my pants if you keep doing that,” he runs his hands over your thighs, gripping into the plush of your ass, squeezing hard enough bruises begin to blossom around his fingertips.
He pulls away, moving his hands to rip the top of your dress, exposing your breasts as the soft fabric pools at your waist. He’s entranced by you, always has been, especially now, watching the way your tits rise and fall so beautifully with every heave of your chest. 
“Look at you,” he coos, hips moving in time with yours, dry humping you against the wall, “can’t go more than a few weeks without needing me.”
“Fuck you,” you’re ripping open his shirt, the small buttons flying out in every direction. Neither of you care, he’ll buy a new one, hands roaming over his sinewy torso and chest.
Your eyes roll to the back of your head when he dips his hand in the space between his stomach and your thighs, groaning into you as he runs his fingers through your slick folds, his cock is straining against his thigh, so hard it hurts.
Satoru chuckles at your feistiness, he always did love it, “you know,” he slips two fingers in watching with an icy stare, “I can scare away anyone you try to date with a single glance.” He angles his fingers up, running them along the spot that always makes your legs shake and quiver, using his thumb to encircle your clit causing you to clench around his fingers as he smirks at your reaction.
You’re moaning his name, pulling him in closer to you, hand gripping his soft white tresses as you do so. He loves how malleable you are to his touch, the way you melt as soon as his lips are on yours. You’d let him do anything he wanted.
There’s a knot forming quickly in the center of your core. Satoru knows your body like the back of his hand, knows all of the spots that have you crying out, whimpering and convulsing around him.
“Don’t worry baby, I’ll let you cum as many times as I want.” He coos, leaning forward to whisper next to you, his hot breath on the shell of your ear causing a shiver to run down your spine.
He pumps his fingers, brushing your spot every time, he knows you're close, the way you’re mewling into him, bucking your hips as he picks up his pace, the palm of his hand slapping against your clit with every thrust.
“S’toru- I’m-” your words are cut short with a series of broken moans as he continues to pump his fingers, working you through your orgasm, the small space filled with lewd squelching noises as your walls clench and legs tremble around him.
He slows his pace, continuing to rub slow circles on your sweet spot watching the way you arch your back away from the wall, your soft breasts pressing into his hard chest.
“Satoru, wait-”
“Nah. I’m good.” His voice is stern, hardened as he continues to run his fingers along your insides, “I already told you, you’ll cum as many times as I want.”
He knows if it’s too much you’ll use the safe word you agreed on, but he knows you won't. As much as you’re trying to pretend you don’t love what he’s doing to you, he knows you do.
You let out a chain of embarrassing whimpers as he continues to pump his fingers in and out of you, steadily increasing his pace again until you’re shattering around him over and over and over.
Through each and every one of your orgasms Satoru’s soft lips are on yours before planting several soft kisses over your flushed face before moving down to suck and nip at several spots along your neck, chest and shoulders.
Closing your eyes, you rest your head back against the cool wall before he shoves his fingers in your mouth. You open your eyes and watch him; cheeks pink, lips parted, eyes half lidded, pupils blown with lust watching the way you swirl your tongue around, tasting your arousal as he works to undo the button and zipper of his pants.
You let out a loud gasp when you feel the blunt end of his thick cock slide through your folds, tip teasing your clit, pulling your hips away from him automatically at the sensitive feeling.
Satoru grabs your hip and pulls you forward again as he continues to tease you, sliding his cock up and down your soaked cunt.
“S-sensitive,” you whine, trying to wiggle your hips out of his grasp.
“You can handle it.” He remarks bluntly, leaning forward to suck a tender spot below your ear, “besides, you deserve this, don’t you? Trying to make me jealous, going out with another man.”
“No.” You answer firmly, breathlessly as he leans up, amusement in his eyes at your response, “we’re over. Just-just fuck me already, Jesus.”
He chuckles, letting his cock circle your clit a few times, twitching when he hears your pretty little gasps, before teasing your entrance, “I’ll let you have it when I’m -ah-” you buck up, his tip slipping past your folds. He lets out a loud groan, lips ghosting yours as you slide down the length of his cock despite his words, “ha- you bitch.”
Satoru rolls his hips a few times, both of you moaning at the feeling of having each other just one more time, because that’s all this can be, even if he’s not ready to give you up yet.
“I made you everything you are. Training you, taking you on missions,” he rambles through clenched teeth, pulling out about half way and slamming back into you, “you’re mine, aren’t you, baby?”
“Y-yes,” you answer in a broken whine, moving your hips back to meet his every thrust, the tip of his cock hitting your cervix in a way you know you’ll be sore later “all yours.”
It’s an automatic response at this point, even when you’re delirious, getting fucked within an inch of your life. He gets jealous, seeing you speak with Nanami, smiling at Ijichi and now it’s another routine, a part of your relationship you had come to expect.
“Yeah, fucking right you are, baby,” he groans, slamming his hips into yours relentlessly, watching your tits bounce in time with his thrusts as tears pick in the corner of your eyes, making his own light up as they overflow and spill down your cheek. “You wanna change the world? You know that’s only possible when you’re by my side."
He regrets pushing you away, the way he lets you leave each time your bags are packed. Despite your words, he knows, deep down, you’re not going to take him back this time, but he wants you to, even if it’s incredibly selfish of him - he doesn’t give a shit. Doesn’t want to know or think about you going out, being with someone else, being happier with someone else. Not when you could and should be with him.
“Gonna make sure everyone knows who you belong to.” His lips slam into yours, hot searing kisses on your lips, tongues gliding together sloppily until he moves to nip at your ear lobe, “gonna fill you so full, put a baby inside you - won't be able to leave then, will you?”
He laughs next to your ear, unhinged, high pitched and amused with his own thoughts, his hot breath tickles your neck, sending a jolt right to the apex of your thighs.
“You’re demented. I hate you -shit-” your hands are under his open shirt on his shoulders, nails digging into his skin hard enough to draw blood, he doesn’t try to stop you or use his infinity. He lets it happen, his own twisted form of punishment for watching you drown under him and being unable and unwilling to let you resurface.
Satoru rests his head against the wall, heavy breaths fanning your ear, his cock twitching each time you grace him with one of your pretty moans, the picture frame continuing to rattle with each thump of your body against the wall.
“I hate you too,” he kisses your jaw, licks the trail of tears streaming down your cheek, leaving a kiss below your eye before ripping the rest of the silky fabric of your dress from your waist, letting it fall to the floor, “you take my cock so fucking well, baby.”
You look down, moaning at the sight of where you’re connected, watching the way his thick cock disappears in your cunt. He runs his hand along your abdomen, where the familiar bulge from his cock sits.
“Right there keep going, harder, please.” 
Satoru watches your eyes roll back, watches the way the sheen of sweat that’s formed over your body glistens in the light of your apartment. You’re so gorgeous with the blush that’s formed on your cheeks down to your neck, with your sweet, breathy moans that are only for him.
He snakes his arm around your hips, pulling your ass out from the wall, leaving your shoulders connected, putting you in the most severe arch you’ve ever been in. His hands are cemented on your hips keeping you in place while he fucks into you with reckless abandon, throwing his head back, using your body however he wants, however he needs.
“Nobody will want you -ah- if you have a kid with me. Scare off any fucking date you have, you’ll have to stay with me then, won’t you baby?”
The sound of your arousal drips obscenely to the floor below, as he pins your hands over your head, using his infinity to keep them against the wall as he continues to fuck into you. Grabbing your legs from his waist, he pushes your knees down to your face, literally folding you in half, eyes rolling to the back of his head from the feeling of your soft, warm walls tightening around his cock.
“Shit, right there,” you gasp as his hips falter, “don’t stop, don’t stop, please don’t stop.” Your walls clench and shudder around him, encouraging him to speed up, to cum inside you like he knows you want him to. You’re clenching around him, hard, before you know it, body shivering like you’re seizing, vision going white as your high takes over all your senses.
Satoru lets out a string of breathy moans, brows furrowed at the feeling of your walls squeezing him for all he’s worth, hammering into you until his hips are stuttering and he’s no longer able to hold back.
“Take my cum, baby,” he hisses, thrusts sloppier than ever as he loses himself in you, “I love you so fucking much.” 
He lets out a deep guttural groan as his release floods your insides, and you could swear the force shifted the world in his favor. It always seemed to be that way, after all. He wills something to happen, so the universe makes it so.
You’re panting into one another as he continues to slowly rock his hips, fucking his cum deeper inside, making sure it sticks, because he meant everything he said.
Lifting you off the wall, he carries you back to your bedroom and gently lays you down on the bed, cock still buried inside you as he runs his nose along the length of yours, whispering sweet nothings about how he’s sorry, how he misses you and wants you to take him back. This time things will be different, he swears.
You know better than to listen, but you missed this. Missed being in his strong embrace, so you let it slide for the night, indulging one last time before it’s over, really over this time.
You stay like this until he’s hard again, going at a much slower tempo, deeper strokes than before.
Somewhere between the third and fourth rounds, he gets a call, a Curse User running amok and he’s needed to go out and take care of the situation.
“Satoru,” you say, holding the sheets over your frame trying to cover the shame of falling into bed with him again so easily, “I never want to see you again.”
He lets out a mix between a scoff and a laugh, looking you up and down before putting on his little black glasses and giving a nefarious grin.
“Sure, babe. Whatever you say.”
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It’s been a little over a month since that night. After Satoru left, you got up and started cleaning your apartment of all the things he had gotten for you over the years. Just like when you told him you were never getting back together, you meant what you said about never wanting to see each other again.
You even followed up on your transfer request, but Ijichi informed you that it could take a few months to make its way to the higher-ups and to count yourself as lucky if they approve the request.
It seems Satoru heard your message loud and clear, since you haven’t heard from him over the last few weeks, taking care to avoid one another in the halls, not sparing a glance at each other during meetings you’re both required to attend.
But that’s about to change as you walk through the halls of Jujutsu Tech, eye’s red, puffy and swollen from crying the last few days.
It’s evening and hardly anyone is around as you open the door to Satoru’s office. You knew he would be here tonight, because you had threatened Ijichi into not doing his paperwork earlier in the day, so you’d be able to easily find him without having to show up at his apartment.
He looks up, a cocky grin on his face as if he already knew you’d show up with a stick in hand, two pink lines on the display.
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Taglist: @z33sblog @thisbicc @septembersums @septembersummer @nothisispatrick300 @km7474 @missyasma @hecatesflames @arisucat @swoon-for-joon @creolequeen11210 @imperatorkhaleesi
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ornii · 1 year
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If it's not too much to ask... How about a Wednesday x Male!Reader where they cuddle for the first time??
Bonus points if Wednesday takes on a more dominant role in their cuddle session dhdjshdjd
I Like That Idea, and since people also want more of a Venom X Wednesday, i decided to eat two bodies with one venom.
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Living with this, other half was a bothersome sort. A symbiotic virus consuming all who cross Venom. What made it hard was telling Enid, well you hadn’t planned on doing that it sort of just, happened. But you had to tell Wednesday, she’s your best friend! Well you consider her your best friend. She most likely views you as a nuisance. But you had to tell her. Nearing the end of your Mythology class, you made an effort to find Wednesday and tell her the harrowing truth.
It wasn’t particularly hard to find her, lingering in the shadows of her bedroom. You knocked gently at the door and awaited a response.
“I can detect a faint heartbeat! Death lingers in the room!” Venom spoke into your mind.
“Oh, well Wednesday is definitely inside then…” you said, faintly you can hear the words “enter.” Coming from beyond the door, you take a deep breath and grip the knob and enter. Stepping into the girls dormitory was obviously a tense situation, not wanting to seem off at some creep but this was extreme circumstances. Your eyes traced along the room, first to Enids side, which was bright and bubbly as you could be, flashes of Pink, Stuffed animals, Boy Bands, your typical modern gal stuff, but hints of steak lingers in your nose, definitely the werewolf part. Your eyes head right to the dark and dreary side that is Wednesday, the lack of color, the almost sapping aura, it screamed into the voice, “take me sweet death.” You catch the desk in your vision and see the raven haired demon typing at her desk.
What Wednesday lacked, an emotions, moral alignment, sometimes a pulse, was her cold and callous genius. She had a natural beauty that requires no Make up, no flashy clothes, just pure genetic beauty, and as dreadful as she can be at her emotions she was absolutely captivating. You thought she was captivating, breathtaking, beautiful… you never knew how Wednesday felt about you, she always kept a reserved stance on her emotions and displays of affection and intimacy. While you didn’t particularly mind, it was hard to tell if she was angry or just dead on the inside sometimes.
“Wednesday.” You begin, not really sure how to begin this.
“(Y/n), You know how I feel about my writing time.. and hour—“
“Without interruption, I know.. but this is, well I need to tell you something.” You barely utter, “it’s… urgent.” She stops typing hearing this, and turns to face you. Her Crepuscular beauty always took your breath away. You take a deep breath and try to explain.
“There’s something I’ve been meaning to show you, to tell you, I just never really knew how to…” you say, the slowly intrigue of Wednesday began to show and she began to buckle under her own dreary curiosity.
“Speak then.” She replies, and you take a seat and sit on the edge of her bed. Her eyes were so, intimidating, sometimes it was hard to even get a glimpse of her.
“I never told you why I was in Nevermore, or what I’m considered different enough to go.. it’s because I… I’m a host for my Symbiotic.” You say, Wednesdays eyes kept on your face, as if she’s scanning for any lies or forms of deception.
“You see annoyingly normal for my standard.” She says, “What is this “Symbiotic?” She asks, you slowly rose up and closed your eyes, Wednesday watches as suddenly your body began to ooze a deep black, sludge like liquid from parts of his body, slowly encapsulating his entire body, Wednesdays face went from unamused to pleasantly stunned. What stood before her now was a hulking mass of darkness, some dreary parasite. The head of the monster opens up, revealing Your veiny, corroded face.
“Is this too much?” You ask, Wednesday didn’t know what to say for a moment.
“What, what are you? Are you even human?” She asks, you slowly transform back.
“Obviously, I just have this, thing.”
“I am not a thing!”
“Who unfortunately has a mind of its own.” You say.
“… who else knows about this?” She asks you, and you awkwardly fiddle around.
“Principal Weems… and. Enid.” You say, which makes Wednesday scowl.
“You told Enid before me?” She says accusingly.
“No! He told her before I could.” You say, suddenly your hand darkens, lifts itself up, as it transforms into the face of Venom.
“I wanted to eat her! I had no intention to revel ourselves!” He yells, Wednesday looks at the hand, a mix of disgust and, amusement.
“So you were not lying, it is alive.”
“Yes I am pretty one! I bet your liver tastes exquisite!”
“Ignore that comment, he says that to everyone.” You shake your hand, letting him lose control and going back to normal. You sigh and clasp your hands together sadly.
“I.. I apologize for not telling you…” you say, “there’s no easy way to ease a woman into telling them that I have a cannibalistic parasite living inside me.” You explain.
“Do not fret, I expected to say you listed to country music, that would have been a real horror.”
“.. have I ever told you how amazing you are.” You say trying not to laugh at that, Wednesday calmly, and somewhat reluctantly sat next to you. Being a bit stuff, she was never this close to another person let alone a man not related to her.
“I have no right to judge what information you disclose… but I do appreciate you telling me. Now if I have a body to dispose of, I’ll know who to bring it to.” She said.
“I like her!” Venom yells.
“Me too..” you say under your breath, Wednesday took the leap, doing something so, daring. You felt a cold clasp on the top of your hand, Wednesday placed her hand on top of yours. You didn’t know what to say, you looked at Wednesday who kept looking forward, you could make out just the slightest hint of red under her cheeks. You didn’t hesitate, letting the symbiote slowly take over her hand, this actually brought Wednesday comfort, the cold slimy feeling of death on her cold unfeeling hand. A perfect combination, she decided to take one last risk, gently placing her head on your shoulder, it was again stiff and cold. A symbiotic arm crept around her body into a soft hug. It was a perfect serene moment, a parasitic, symbiotic, love.
“… I still despise the fact you told Enid first.”
“I doubt she would have said anything…”
“… still.”
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hungergamesheadcanons · 8 months
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Odesta Observations
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Finnick can't actually flirt with Annie.
It was a realisation that took a while to sink in, but once it did, Katniss saw it everywhere.
The way he'd stammer over his words when he said anything even remotely romantic towards her.
The way his brain seemed to short-circuit whenever Annie smiled in his direction, or placed a kiss on his cheek, or lent her head on his shoulder.
Or, more damningly, the way an unusual red colour spread across his cheeks and nose, going all the way down his neck and up to his ears, whenever Annie (god forbid) flirted back.
It was actually a hilarious concept.
Finnick Odair, darling of the Capitol, playboy prince with enough lovers to create a small army, was shy.
And not shy in general. Not shy in that flirty way, where the flirter blushed ever so slightly to appear cute and endear themselves.
No, in front of Annie Cresta, Finnick was the tripping-over-his-own-feet kind of shy.
He was the stammering-over-his-words-so-hard-he-forgot-how-to-English kind of shy.
He was the slamming-his-head-into-the-table-to-hide-his-face-even-though-she's-right-there-oh-my-GOD kind of shy.
And Katniss was 99% sure Annie knew exactly what she was doing too. Because Annie flirted back a lot, and laughed every time, pressing gentle kisses to a bright red cheek or nose and allowing him a little time to compute what exactly happened. And when he tried to continue flirting, voice small and kind of uncertain, she'd just raise one eyebrow, as if challenging him to a verbal battle.
Usually this ended in Finnick dropping his head onto her shoulder, grumbling about her wittiness and how unfair this was. Annie would pat his head lovingly, telling him that he'd get her next time and that he'd just have to practice.
He never did.
It actually became something Katniss did to pass the time. Her and Johanna nicknamed it 'Odesta Observation', just watching them and reporting back to each other the most embarrassing things Finnick managed to do.
"She smiled at him and he managed to catch his toe on nothing and fall flat on his face." Johanna reported one day, still cackling.
"He tried to tell her a pick up line, gave up halfway through, turned around and walked straight into a wall." Katniss whispered to Johanna in passing, walking ahead with a slight smirk as Johanna barked out a laugh.
"She said that he was the most precious thing in her life and he took a whole ten minutes to react."
"He ranted about her hair for 25 minutes straight and then when she walked into the room he panicked and jumped so hard he fell off the bed."
"Annie caught him mid-story about a dog with pink and his voice raised three pitches before he started talking about Annie's dogs in 4."
"He saw Annie helping out in the baby ward and came to my room and screamed into my pillow for a few minutes before telling me he was fine."
Sometimes though, their observations weren't quite so silly.
"He held her for ten minutes while she seemed to come down from some kind of panic attack."
"She always kisses his chin when he seems to be drifting away, and he always puts his head on her shoulder after that."
"He likes to tug at her hair when her eyes go all vacant, and it seems to bring her back to reality."
"She likes to fiddle with his hair, braiding and brushing and playing with it until he falls asleep."
"She wakes up in a cold sweat when he's not beside her."
"He pleads for her to come back in his nightmares."
"She wanders the complex when she's not fully there, crying and searching for Finnick."
"He sneaks into her room at night, unable to sleep without her by his side."
Annie and Finnick were in love. They were entirely dependent on each other, both of them needing the other to complete them. Their adoration for each other was palpable, and Katniss could feel the devotion radiating off them.
It wasn't a surprise when Finnick popped the question.
And if he blushed and stammered his way through his wedding vows, Annie smiling ever so indulgently at him while he did so, Katniss would only tease him a little bit about it.
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atinylittlepain · 1 year
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Summer Lovin
joel miller x f!reader
joel miller masterlist
she thought he was all hers. she was wrong. but revenge is always sweet, and a little melted.
warnings | 18+ smut, serious angst, Joel is a cheater in this one and gets what he deserves (within reason)
a/n | i don't have an explanation for this one, it just sorta happened, sorry about it.
...............................
Her hands are shaking all over the steering wheel, enough to force her into pulling off the highway before the tears can fracture her vision anymore. And all she can do is laugh, a bitter thing in her throat, because she’s turned into a complete cliche now. Idling on the shoulder of the road while the texas sun splits and sinks in the sky, crying like a fool over a man she shouldn’t have given the time of day to.
But he had been so sweet, hadn’t he? A bit hopeless when they met, standing in the frozen food aisle, pinching the bridge of his nose with one hand and cradling a cellphone to his ear with the other. She had made an offhanded comment that he seemed to be negotiating a hostage crisis when he hung up, a sheepish smile slanting across his face and a surprisingly earnest explanation that his twelve-year-old daughter had just gotten her first period and he had been screamed out the door for provisions.
“Don’t tell her I told you that though. Pretty sure she’d burst my eardrums for letting that slip.”
“Your secret’s safe with me. But could you use some help maybe?”
“I look that pitiful, huh?”
“Maybe just a little.” 
She was gone from the start, helping him pick out Ben and Jerry's and tampax pearls while he rambled about his daughter. Her smile spreading in sync with the flush creeping up his neck, typing her number into his phone while he leaned against the side of his truck, a nervous palm rubbing the back of his neck. He called her that night, cute and eager, wanting to thank her for the help, and to ask her out. And of course she said yes. Afterall, she had checked for a wedding ring. She thought she had been so clever for that. 
Three months, spring sliding into summer and something she thought was love slipping big and bright between her ribs. She got to know his daughter during weeknight dinners on their back porch, inside jokes zinging right over his head. And while Sarah was at her mom’s every weekend, Joel would invite her over and they’d spend the hours tangled up in his bed, bodies sticky and slick with sweat blown cool by the box fan in his window, talking in circles around each other, promises stamped into skin. 
“Don’t worry about it, darlin. We’re as good as divorced. She’s just dragging her feet signing the papers, that’s all. Haven’t lived together since Sarah was real little. I’m all yours.”
“It’s okay, Joel, I understand. It must be so hard, though, having to do all of this on your own, in a way.”
She scoffs at the sting of that memory, the way his palm had been trailing up and down her spine, the sigh he had let out at her words. She had interpreted it as a soulful weariness that only made her love him a little more. But there were warning signs too.
“Hey, darlin, I’m really sorry but I have to cancel tonight.” She was already pulling into his neighborhood when he called, new dress, the perfume he liked so much, a tray of brownies in the passenger seat, sprinkled with powdered sugar, how she knew Sarah liked them.
“Oh, is everything okay?”
“Yeah, I think Sarah picked up a stomach bug at camp today is all.”
“Oh no, can I get you guys anything from the store? Soup? Ginger ale?” 
“That’s real sweet of you, darlin, but I don’t want you to catch anything. Can we take a raincheck though?” What a good father, what a good man. 
“Of course, Joel. Tell Sarah I hope she starts feeling better soon.” He had already hung up, quick and clipped. And when she drove past his house only a moment later, she could have sworn she saw Sarah in their backyard swinging on that old playset of hers. It had been easy enough to write off as a trick of the light and her eyes tired after a day of work. Though she couldn’t figure out whose car had been parked in his driveway, not his and not his brother’s. But he made good on his raincheck that Friday, showing up at her apartment in that button-down she liked so much and a bouquet in his hand, not letting her get a word in before he was pulling her into a hard kiss that made her forget to even ask if Sarah was feeling better. He was always good at that, pulling her apart, just a little overwhelming in the wander of his hands, his mouth, laying her down right on the floor of her tiny living room after kicking her front door shut.
“Missed you so bad. Been thinking about you all week. Thinking about this pussy. How sweet she gets for me. Just for me, huh?” Already mouthing at her clit through the cotton of her panties, his words thrumming up her spine, making her hips jolt in the heavy hold of his palms. 
“Yes, Joel, it’s all for you, fuck, you’re so good.” So, so, so good, stripping her down and settling back between her thighs, tongue dragging through her cunt, a hum in his throat as he held the insistent heat of his mouth against her core, pulling pleasure from her like he owned it. The ropes of muscle in his forearm jumping, holding her down by her pelvis, not letting up until she was shaking with it, his scruff scraping against the inside of her thigh, a small mercy in the kiss he pressed there. 
“Are we seriously about to fuck on the floor?”
“What’s wrong with the floor?”
“Joel.” Total theatrics with the roll of his eyes, a petulant huff as he got up, dragging her along with him. a fumbling tangle into her bedroom, making her laugh with his feigned meanness in throwing them down onto the sheets, wide eyes and breathless beats.
“That better, darlin?” No answer, too busy tugging him out of his clothes, his cock solid and warm against her thigh. Always a stretch, pleasure mingling and mixing up with pain with the press of his hips against hers. Always careful, considerate, pressing kisses to her sternum while she opened up around him, whispering into her skin.
“Feel so good for me, darlin. Like you were made just for me.” She felt like it too, like she’d never had anything like this before. The obscene slap of slicked skin, swallowing each other’s gasps as he pushed and pulled them through a hard rhythm. Her ankles hooked around his hips, open, wanting, receiving everything he gave her, the both of them sinking their teeth into each other’s pleasure, furling up close and unraveling all at once with each other’s names held in their throats. She had told him she loved him that night, in the after of it all, her chest pressed to his back, limbs tangled up. But he didn’t respond, already asleep.
Her cell phone ringing startles her out of the past, but when she sees who it is she tosses it back into the passenger seat. And her mind settles into something like disbelief, replaying the day. How differently it began compared to how it ended. 
She woke up that morning with anticipation thick in her stomach for what the day ahead would bring. She thought it was a big step, the step, inviting her to a family cookout. Playing house with the Millers. Sarah and her in the kitchen most of the morning, crockpots bubbling and watermelons split while he and his brother putzed around in the backyard with the grill, some frivolous joke about men regressing to the stone age lobbed out easy and effortless. And then people started coming, coworkers and friends and all the rest and Joel wouldn’t look at her and she wore her new sundress so he would but he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t and she worried over the potato salad and the kebabs like maybe she could make right whatever she had clearly made wrong. Something about a man’s heart in his stomach, right? 
Everyone else eating and she couldn’t find him in the crowd, Tommy telling her he ran out to get ice cream from the HEB for dessert just as she slipped in the front door. She nearly laughed because why was she here? Who invites their ex-wife to a family cookout? 
And then, and then, and then.
“You must be the babysitter Joel mentioned. I admit I thought Sarah was a little too old for that but she absolutely loves you so thank you for helping out.”
And then, and then, and then.
“Hi, Tommy! It’s good to see you.”
And then, and then, and then.
“Oh, he didn’t tell you? We’ve decided to make another go of it after some time off. We haven’t told Sarah yet, but I think it will be good for all of us.”
And then.
“-- a family again. It’s right, don’t you think?”
And then.
“Sorry, what did you say your name was? I hope Joel is paying you well, and if he’s not, you come to me, okay? There’s gonna be some changes around here, but I’d love for you to stay on for our Sarah.” 
And then.
Out the door, white noise in her ears so loud she only barely thought to grab her keys and shuffle into her flip flops. Out the door and into her car and driving to the same HEB she met him in three months ago being a good father and a good man and a little hopeless and–
She pulled in right as he was walking out of the store, a placid expression on his face, not a care in the world. 
“Darlin? What–”
“Do not call me that.”
“What, what is it? Baby, please don’t cry.” A sick feeling in her stomach at the pull toward him, that tiny want for him to comfort her, to make it all better, quickly seared and singed into more anger.
“Were you gonna tell me, Joel? Or were you just gonna see how long you could keep this little game going, huh? Is that it? You think you’re so smart? Not gonna get caught fucking the babysitter?” Instant recognition sliding down his face, the quick slip of it made her laugh as his eyes darted around the parking lot.
“Let’s talk like adults, okay? There’s no need to make a scene.”
“Oh, fuck you. That’s what you're worried about though, right? That someone’s gonna see. Worried someone’s gonna go tell your wife what you’ve been up to all summer, huh?” His jaw slack, an answer in his silence. She shook her head, anger simmering beneath the hurt.
“Did you care about me at all?”
“Of course I did, I do. Darlin, please, I just got confused, let me–”
“Don’t do that.”
“Please, I’ll–”
“No, Joel. We are done, do you understand me? I care about Sarah too much to let any of this go on any longer. You know what? I just hope that your wife has a good enough head to figure it out for herself. I hope she leaves you, I really do.” Hurt crumpled across his face and she wanted more of it, wanted to dig her thumb into it and twist.
“I– loved– you– you– fucking– lying– lowlife– bastard.” She’s not sure how it happened, though it would be the topic of conversation at the neighborhood women’s book club for weeks to come. Some young thing tearing into Joel Miller, smacking him six ways to Sunday with her flip flop in the grocery store parking lot. Cornering him against the side of his pickup truck, big strong man curled up with his hands over his head as she rained down perfect hellfire on him. He had dropped his grocery bag, two gallon containers of ice cream sweating out in the summer sun, her bare foot stepping sticky into a puddle of vanilla. 
“Don’t you ever do anything like this to anyone ever again, Joel Miller.” The grand finale, that ice cream of his melted enough that it was too easy to pick up a carton, pop off the lid, and dump the dribbling liquid over the top of his head before primly shoving her flip flop back on and getting in her car. 
She finds herself laughing through a throat heavy with snot, the image of him in her mind, blinking hard through a thick stream of slurried ice cream, shoulders up to his ears, pure shock in his shudder. 
“Worth it.” One thing that goes right today, she leans over to rummage through her glove compartment, sighing when she finds the nearly empty carton of cigarettes, lighter tucked into the crumpled box. She quit two months ago, secondhand smoke around Sarah and all that. But how easy it is now to roll down her window and take a crackling drag that she blows out into the fading afternoon, smoke whipped away by the endless whir of cars passing by. Peace in the inhale and exhale, promptly disrupted by her phone ringing again. Cigarette dangling between her lips, she scoffs between her teeth. Ten missed calls. She doesn’t even listen to the voicemails, simply chucks the thing out her window along with her cigarette butt and shifts her car back into drive.
She’ll be okay.
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Text
“Say yes to heaven, say yes to me”
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Request by @anonymous
Hey! I know this is kind of a weirdish request, but could you write like a really long fluff piece for lesso? Long fluffy fics always bring me loads of comfort. Tysm! I love your writing & your style, it's so beautiful to read
i do hope 3940+ words for pure fluff fic is considered long enough. if i add more, it would take me some more time to write and i feel like i have you waiting long enough already so hopefully this many words can scratch an itch, dear anon. crossing my fingers that this will be delivered to your fingertips 🤞🏻
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Wisps of fire dances under the sunlight. Their golden glow is peculiarly hypnotising, very reminiscent of the sparklers that you love to play as a child. Even as an adult, you allow yourself the occasional indulgence in such nostalgias for they offer you a sense of childish glee.
Have you ever felt the irresistible urge to throw yourself off the edge while standing atop some place high, a building, a balcony, a bridge? You do not dare look down not because you are afraid of heights or of falling but because you are afraid that one day, your impulses will win.
Today seems to be that fated day. Now, the bright oranges and reds are beckoning you to touch them. To their demands, you dance. Like a lamb to the slaughter, naive fingers dive into a sea of fire. It does not ravish. It caresses. Soft flames gingerly lick your flesh as your digits seek the heart of the burning red.
By the time you shower her scalp with gentle scratches, the bundle of warmth in your arms has melted into liquid butter, creamy skin very nearly becoming one with the creamy sheets. A sultry hum that you can both hear, and feel through lips moving against the dip in your throat is spine-tinglingly husky. A dollop of honey in a tumbler of rum that when consumed, douses you with pleasant heat.
Although you always go to bed nestled snugly in your cosy little haven, by morning, you always find a majestic fox taking sanctuary in your arms. Said fox, sly as she is, stamps tiny, delicate kisses to your neck, nuzzles your jaw with her soft little nose before emerging out of her hiding spot. You drown in her eyes, a mesmerising sage green, sprinkled with little specks of brown in the middle, that dissolve into rings of dark forest green.
“Hey, sleepyhead.” You greet her with a kiss on the lips.
She on the other hand is smiling against your cheek, tracing your cheekbone with peppermint kisses. “Who are you calling a sleepyhead, hm?”
“Who, I wonder.” You squint your eyes as if deep in thought.
It earns you a chuckle coupled with a poke on the nose. “Can you blame me, ma chérie. You make it hard for me to get up.”
“Oh, so I am to blame then?”
You watch her eyes twinkle with mirth. The subtle curve of her lips grow into a sly little grin. She dismisses your question altogether, chooses instead to lock you in her arms.
“Come. Let’s be sleepyheads.”
“No can do.” Even though you come within a hair’s breadth of being caged in those stubbornly unyielding arms, you manage to successfully roll out of bed before being completely caught. “We have much to do today, Leo.” A pout has settled atop her lips, and when she moves to sneakily snatch you on your waist, once again, you succeed in dodging the surprise attack. The cherry on top has been getting to stick your tongue out at your lover as you flee the room with a wink that screams downright sass. “Get out of bed if you want me back in your arms, naughty fox.”
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“Naughty fox, was it?”
“I’ll show you how naughty I can be.”
You have no idea what you have hoped to gain by taunting the very personification of sly-as-a-fox. Consequences are a certainty. When the lowly husked threat has trickled like ice down your spine, you certainly have not been expecting to physically feel cubes after cubes of ice being shoved down your hoodie. To your horror, you find that the sly fox has not only tucked your shirt into your pants but also cinched the waistband tight to trap the unforgiving coldness there.
Willowy arms encircling your waist, you are hauled onto the kitchen counter. They keep you confined, offering you no reprieve from the icy torture. Trapped and helpless, freezing and suffering, all you can do is to bombard her back with tamed punches while you writhe and wiggle like a worm being exposed to salt.
“Leo!! It’s cold!! Cold!! Leo!”
“Well, it is ice darling. Ice is supposed to be cold. What do you expect?”
“Alright! I’m sorry! Stop! Please, I’ll do anything. Just stop, Leo!”
Intrigued by your bold statement, she seeks your eyes. “Oh?” An elegant eyebrow arches. “Anything?”
“Yes! God, yes! Anything. Now, put me down please.”
She complies, face the very picture of a cat that has gotten the cream. As soon as your fluffy-socked feet touch the floor, trembling fingers scramble to untie the knot of your sweatpants. When you try but fail, lithe fingers join you, dexterous in their movements as the knot is freed and subsequently you, of your suffering. Ice cubes clatter to the floor. Sneaky hands, meanwhile, have found purchase on your ribcage. The very tips of her thumbnails playfully grazing the tender flesh just beneath your breasts has your lips falling open in a gasp.
You swat her forearm reproachfully.
“Naughty is an understatement. You are an evil fox.”
Soft lips fall atop the little furrow between your eyebrows. After one, two, three, four kisses have tumbled down the slope of your nose, the fifth one is perched atop the very tip.
“Why thank you, sweetheart.”
It is crooned along with the sixth which is bestowed upon your lips.
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As warm flavours explode on your tongue after you have bitten into the sugary, creamy goodness, a moan has been your first instantaneous reaction. Then come the stars, bursting in your eyes as you marvel at the chef with those big, wide twinkles.
“What is this witchery?”
Four fingers and a thumb bookcase your cheeks.
“That, darling, is the art of baking.”
Tilting your head a touch, the little pout of your lips is met by a pair of succulent lips. A tender caress at first that escalates into gentle suckles. The milkiness and tiny glittering grains resting on and around your lips are meticulously plucked by the tip of a tongue.
Once satisfied, she hums, “Hmm, delicious, is it not?”
You feign disbelief at her query, mouth falling open. “Delicious? It’s scrumptiously divine!”
“I made yours extra creamy, practically doused it with icing. Do you like it?”
Another hearty bite into the sweet swirls renders you speechless. The fluffiness of the bread is impeccable; cinnamon sugar joins the thick, heavy cream as it melts on your tongue. Although every one of her baked goods always has you giddy like a kid in a candy shop, cinnamon rolls, in particular, are like ice cream in a room full of lollipops. You savour the taste of heaven tucked into a bun, reaffirming once more that they are indeed your lover’s best work.
“Like is an understatement. You make the-”So busy licking your fingers are you that you do not mind when you are cut off, delighted even that she knows you like the back of her hand. “-most heavenly cinnamon rolls in the entire universe, yeah yeah I get that quite a lot.”
With a pop, your finger is released, and you turn towards her at breakneck speed, stare her straight in the eyes.
“I would marry you if I could.”
“Oh darling,…” Crooned the woman in an apron. “…flattered though I am, I’ll have to stop you right there. These hands,…” Your eyes are immediately drawn towards those tantalisingly long digits. When they wiggle, you gulp. “…as dexterous as they are,…” She leans in, whispers conspiratorially. “…bake, and then some for only one person.”
After a beat, she winks. “My girlfriend.”
“Oooooh, lucky them.”
Index and middle fingers walk along toned forearms, teasing the edge of her rolled up shirt sleeve. A hand halts them by capturing your wrist. They are instead brought over to lips so soft that, when a kiss is pressed onto your fingertips, it is like touching silk.
“Lucky them indeed.” She initiates eye contact, and you hold it, unwavering. “You should teach them how to bake.”
“Oh I did,…” Fingers intertwine. A hand finds home just shy of your hipbone. “…over and over and over and over again, I might add.”
“And?”
“It’s great luck that we still have a place to call home.”
“Wow! You may be an excellent cook but you are a terrible teacher.”
Her hand has abandoned your hip in favour of pinching your nose betwixt a middle and a fore finger. “It’s not my fault that you’re always so scatterbrained.”
Meanwhile, her cheeks are sandwiched between the palm of your hands. “It’s not my fault that the love of my life is always so annoyingly, distractingly drop dead gorgeous.” You squish her soft cheeks before punctuating your argument by capturing her adorable little puckered lips. Your kiss, to her annoyance, is delivered with an audible, exaggerated “mmmmwah”.
More often than not, when you are being overly affectionate with your woman, her expression may suggest repulsion but you know better than to let it perturb you. What can be read on her face is usually the exact opposite of what she is feeling. You have understood since the very beginning that she is an intricacy, and after a few years spent together, mastered the art of discerning her innermost emotions.
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A beanie sitting snugly around your head, toes and fingers enveloped in thick socks and gloves, swaddled in at least three layers of clothes, bar the long coat, you are being carefully wrapped up like a Christmas present. Your beloved girlfriend has taken it upon herself to make certain that you are well dressed for your winter outing.
There has been a time when you have come home one chilly evening rudolph-nosed and shivering. Having unfortunately overestimated your tolerance for cold, accidentally underdressing for one day has left you with a terrible flu that has lasted for more than a week. Not only has she patiently and carefully nurtured you back to health, going forward, she will also go into protective mommy bird mode whenever you leave so much as a finger unprotected, especially during winter.
Currently, she is wrapping a muffler scarf around your neck on top of the turtlenecked sweater that she has already dressed you in.
“You act as if you did not just shove ice down my spine. Literally.”
“That’s exactly the point, sweetheart. Only I, your evil fox, get to torment you, my little lover.” Lips touch your nose, but a soft, fleeting caress. “Not even the weather is allowed to.”
Even though the cold is not necessarily your cup of tea, and it, too, is not Leo’s, she is not as affected by it as you are. Weak though you are against winter, you adore the weather. Leo on the other hand neither loves nor hates it. At the same time, while you love celebrating Christmas, she is not so much an enjoyer of festivities as a love-sick woman keeping her little lover company.
If you are the sun, then, Leo is the cloud hovering protectively in front of you.
Even now, while you look every bit the picture of a meticulously wrapped parcel, she looks as bare as the Christmas tree that the two of you have yet to finish decorating. She has on her body her signature white dress-shirt layered with a sweater over it with midnight jeans for pants, finishing it all off with a muffler scarf and a long coat. The both of which, aside from colours, entirely matches with yours. Compared to her other fashionable pieces, the sweater looks extremely out of place, the only thing that does not belong in her immaculate wardrobe.
You have just begun trying your hand at knitting, and the sweater has been your very first product. It is created with your lover in mind, but as a result of you deciding to get boldly creative on your first try, what is supposed to be a fiery red fox looks either like a rat or a dog that is terribly malnourished.
You have certainly thought that at worst, it would be fed to the trash can, and at best, it would be tucked into the darkest nook of her wardrobe never to be seen again. The more wishful part of you dares hope that she will wear it at home at the very least. You cannot both believe your eyes and stop staring at your woman when she appears in front of you, dressed in what you have knitted diligently, uniquely for her. She makes even the wackiest of colours arrestingly grand and you remember a small part of you thinking that it should be considered criminal. Meanwhile, the rest of you have been busy admiring her with unabashed wonderment.
If you have not seen your lover rocking questionable attires that will certainly look ridiculous on other people, you would have had half a mind to believe that she is the quintessence of beauty-is-in-the-eye-of-the-beholder. Not only do they look splendidly fine on your woman, it is not your personal opinion but rather a collective agreement that everything will suit her to a tee. After all, you have heard people marvelling at her elegance, seen heads turning towards her direction, which solidifies it as a fact instead of an opinion.
So filled to near bursting with love is your heart that you do not even notice, and if you do, you cannot care less that the two of your are inside a relatively crowded coffee shop when you have trapped her in your arms and attacked her with kisses.
Presently, you are stood outside the same coffee shop that is frequented by the two of you. The snowman out front has caught your attention. Hence, you have decided to wait by it while your wife goes back inside to order more hot drinks as per your friends’ messaged requests. It is amidst making a snowman of your own that you are approached by another. Since you are engrossed in giving the snow version of your girlfriend a face, you have thought whoever is sitting beside you to be the human version of your girlfriend.
“Who is that supposed to be?”
The unfamiliar voice, too gruff that it grates your ears instead of softly caressing them the way Leo’s does, startles you. The uncomfortably close proximity that you find upon turning makes you grimace. As you back away, you unfortunately trip on the thick lump of snow, but the imminent impact never comes. If it does, the ground that receives you has gentle arms that wind protectively around your waist.
There is no mistaking the hands that have explored every square inch of your body. All too happily, you melt into the solid wall of flesh behind you. While you look up at your lover, she gazes down at you, the furrows between her eyebrows ebbing away once a smile blossoms on your lips.
“Her.” You say this to the person still standing before you. “That is supposed to be her, my Leo.”
They either decide to ignore the obvious signs or are insufferably oblivious because instead of leaving the two of you alone, they do the exact opposite. They step closer.
“You’ve got a little something-”
Your guardian angel, of course, is not going to stand idly by and watch as someone else tries to touch you. So, she does the only thing she can; she plucks your chin delicately between a thumb and a forefinger, before angling your head a certain way so that she can lean down to capture your lips. Just like that, the false moustache is kissed clean. The kiss that is meant to ward off the unwanted advancer may have gotten a little out of hand but it does get the job done, because by the time your lips unstick, the bystander is no longer standing. You do not know, cannot care less, when exactly they have disappeared.
“Your nose is starting to resemble that of a rudolph, darling.”
Along with a second muffler that falls onto your shoulder, you are additionally pulled into her coat, being cocooned in her embrace. It is not the added fabric, you realise, but rather being nestled snugly against her body that makes the noticeable difference. Layers after layers of fabric cannot compare to the lovely heat that your lover radiates. Wings almost protrude from your heart and send the little creature soaring high into the sky when you feel warm lips on your forehead. They trace your hairline with satiny-soft kisses.
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When you feel the beanie suddenly being lifted off your head, you are not expecting it to find itself back in place just as quickly. The difference however is palpable, for the chill seems to instantly seep into your skull. You cannot help the shriek that escapes your mouth when more handfuls of snow are being dumped into your sweater.
Instantly, your lover is hot on the heels of the culprits. While she tackles one to the ground, the other manages to escape. The unlucky one turns out to be Dovey, wrestled onto the thick blanket of snow and subsequently being turned into a snow burrito. Having successfully avoided becoming a snow burrito herself, Anemone cackles like a madwoman at the suffering of her partner in crime. Her victory is but transient. She is proved to be the unluckier of the two as soon as a sizeable ball of snow collides with her face. With most of the snow going straight into her open mouth, poor Anemone is left to cough and sputter. After getting rid of the snow inside both your beanie and sweater, you join the fray just in time to assist your lover while she is being double-teamed.
And thus, begins war. The four of you spend a good minute running and rolling in a white velveteen sea, screaming and giggling like a bunch of toddlers. The war ends with both ally and enemy teams creating snow angels. Afterwards, since Leo has not been able to wait in line until her turn arrives, for she has practically run to your side, the four of you find yourself once again in the coffee shop.
While you and Anemone have taken the duty of finding a spot to sit and chat, the two best friends have agreed to go and place the orders.
“How you get the grinch to enjoy Christmas is beyond my comprehension. Always was and always will be.” grumbles Anemone as she plops herself down on the couch opposite you.
“Is she truly that fussy? She has always complied with my wishes without any complaints.”
“Ugh, you have no idea!”
You do not get to expand further on the subject for Leo and Dovey return with your drinks almost immediately.
Having a sweet tooth, but at the same time, not wanting to go for something overly sweet, you have ordered a chocolate drink. From dark chocolate fudges, chocolate wafers, warm drizzles of milk chocolate to fluffy white cream dusted with dark chocolate, it has everything that will satisfy your cravings as well as balance the sweetness with a hint of bitterness.
Finding upon taking a sip that Leo, too, will find it palatable, you offer the drink to her. She obliges as she always does with you, but between eating with a spoon and sipping through the straw, she chooses neither. Instead, you are rendered pleasantly surprised by her mouth finding yours.
“Get a room.”
The groan from Anemone does nothing to make her budge. If her friend has wanted her to stop with her comment, it has an entirely opposite effect.
“Get a lover if you’re jealous.”
While poor Anemone almost chokes on her drink again, Dovey cannot help but laugh into her hand.
“Ouchie.”
What you love about their friendship is that regardless of the endless quips being thrown around like nobody’s business, they have gone past the point of being truly offended by them. The three of them go way back, and over the course of time, their friendship has evolved into a familial bond. Leo has not only waltzed into your life alone but she has also brought with her, and subsequently into your life, Dovey and Anemone, who have welcomed you with open arms. You feel infinitely lucky to be a part of this little family.
From catching up with each other’s lives to reminiscing about the days of yore, the four of you talk about anything and everything. Even though you can still go on for days and never run out of things to say, the shop needs to close. So it is with great reluctance that you part ways. By the time goodbyes have been said, stars are already hanging overhead.
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Delightful twinkles and colourful Christmas lights light your way home as the pair of you walk hand in hand. Your interlaced fingers are hidden in the pocket of your lover’s coat.
“Do you remember the very first time our paths crossed?”
“How can I forget? I spilled coffee onto you.”
“That, my darling, was not how you first caught my eye.” Puzzled and intrigued, you search her face. When she meets your gaze, you marvel at their beauty. It is as if the fallen stars have found sanctuary in her eyes. “Have you ever wondered that perhaps you bumping into me was my carefully crafted machination?”
“Was it, now?”
A perfect eyebrow arches. “Do I seem the type to ask someone for compensation through coffee dates had I not been interested in them in the first place?”
“Oh, so they had been dates! I thought I was just, well, compensating you for ruining your pristine white shirt.”
“Silly girl.”
“You were still charmed by this silly girl, were you not?”
“Indeed I was, and I am, still.”
“In all seriousness, Leo, from the very beginning, the feelings were incredibly mutual.”
“I know, darling. I waited for a while to see if you would make the first move.”
“I’ve never told you this before but the coffee that was spilled onto you…it was bought with you in mind. Although our methods were not entirely flawless, we both got what we wanted in the end.”
“Each other.”
It is under a lamppost that she stops you.
“You said you’d do anything.” It seems like there is more to her words than that, so you poise for elaboration. Out of the blue, she falls to one knee, and you watch with bated breath as her hand disappears into the other coat pocket. The hand, once vacant, returns with a small velvet box.
“Say yes to me.”
“As it so happens…” Fishing out your own velveteen box, you mirror her stance. “I’ll say yes only if you do too.”
The shocked expression on her face dissolves into a smile before the both of you let out a laugh in unison.
“Were you carrying it around everywhere you went?”
“No. I requested Anemone to pick it up for me on her way. You?”
“Same but Dovey.”
“Well, what will you say, woman?”
“There is only one correct answer.”
“Which is?”
“Yes, obviously.”
“Then, without question, my answer is also yes.”
They are both simple platinum bands with a single gem in the middle. While the band with gem the hue of Leo’s hair comes to rest on your ring finger, the band with gem the shade of your eyes goes to find home on your wife’s ring finger.
“Oh my dearest Leo, I love you so.”
When you throw yourself into her arms, she receives you with great enthusiasm. Standing up with you locked tightly in her embrace, she spins the two of you around before your vows are sealed with a kiss.
“I love you more, my darling angel.”
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564 notes · View notes
divine-knight-hand · 11 months
Text
Night of The Maneater
Part 1: The Chase
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Part Two || Michael Masterlist || Full Masterlist || Read on AO3 Halloween Triple Feature Masterlist
Pairing: Michael Afton x Ghostface!Female Reader
Summary: Since the destruction of Fazbear's Fright, Michael could finally celebrate Halloween in peace, but with a new serial killer on the loose known only by the name "The Maneater", how long will his night stay that way?
Content Warnings: Stalking, mentions of death and killing, descriptions of fear and creepy scenarios, death threats, sexual themes
Notes: I don't care that FNAF lore says that Fazbear's Fright happened in the future. This fic takes place in the 1990s because I said so... Also, that time is the perfect setting for a slasher moment and no, I will not be taking criticism.
I also just looked it up and the first Scream movie takes place in 1996, so my guts were on point with this one. Trust my judgement, y'all~
Word Count: 4,352
Dividers by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more
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Halloween season had an air of peace ever since Fazbear’s Fright burned down. This year, instead of fighting for his life against a group of worn-down animatronics–only one of them being corporeal, though not untouched by the stench of death–he only encountered the bright faces that came to his door in search of candy.
Michael was more than happy to oblige, complimenting the costumes of each child as he dropped some candy into their bags. Each child’s parent warmly smiled in appreciation from across the lawn, and he always reciprocated the soft expression. It was nice, seeing parents who took the time to make memories with their children. It filled him with a sense of pride, knowing he could help create that experience for them.
Once he handed out the last of his candy for the night, he turned out his porch light and headed for his kitchen to start making popcorn. He figured he’d spend the rest of the night catching up on the episodes of The Immortal and the Restless he had recorded to his VCR.
As he was searching his cupboards for an aluminum popcorn pan, the radio on the counter switched from lighthearted Halloween tunes to an emergency news report.
“We’re just getting news of a new serial killing taking place here in Hurricane, Utah.” The radio anchor announced. “Police are currently unable to name a suspect. The only information they have is that this killer seems to only target young men in their mid-twenties. They’ve since been codenamed, ‘The Maneater’. Police are advising that all residents make sure their doors, windows, and all other entrances to their homes are locked-”
“And, that’s enough of that.” Michael muttered to himself as he switched off the radio. What a buzzkill…
He rooted around in his cupboards a little longer before finally finding the aluminum pan he was looking for. He’d just put the pan on the stove when the phone started ringing across the room.
He strolled over to where it was mounted and picked it up. “Hello?”
A woman’s voice softly responded. “Hello.” A long pause followed, the only sound Michael could hear being the soft popping of his popcorn, before she asked. “Who is this?”
“Who are you trying to reach?” Michael wasn’t sure why, but he felt the need to dodge the question. Something felt off already, and he hadn’t talked to this person for more than a few seconds. After another moment of silence, he tried to shut down the conversation. “I think you might have the wrong number.”
“Oh, do I?” The voice sounded playful.
“It happens to the best of us.” Michael reassured. “Take care, now.”
He had just moved to return to the stove when the phone rang again. Since when was I so popular?
He smiled to himself as he picked the phone back up off of the receiver. “Hello?”
“I’m sorry.” The same woman’s voice answered. “I guess I did dial the wrong number.”
Michael nervously chuckled. “So, why would you call me back?”
“To apologize.” The woman’s voice was smooth. She spoke lowly and calmly, like she was reading a bedtime story to a child. “I didn’t mean to inconvenience you, tonight of all nights.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Michael breathed a sigh of relief. “It happens all the time. I’m going to go now, okay?”
“Hold on,” The voice suddenly sounded hurried. “Don’t hang up, yet.”
Against his better judgment, Michael responded. “Why not?”
“I want to talk to you for a second.” The woman’s voice purred. It sounded almost… sultry.
Michael felt a shiver crawl down his spine. He wasn’t sure whether to be afraid or enthralled. “I’m sure there are more interesting people you could talk to at this time of night. I should go now. Bye.” As soon as he hung up the phone, it immediately began to ring again.
Michael audibly groaned before picking up. “Hello?”
“Why don’t you want to talk to me?” The same woman’s voice answered, feigning hurt.
Michael was beginning to grow fed up with what he assumed was a Halloween prank call. “Okay, who is this?”
“Why don’t you tell me your name first, handsome?” If the voice didn’t sound provocative before, it definitely did now.
“Michael,” He quickly clapped a hand over his mouth. He hadn’t meant to give up that information so voluntarily. Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!
“Michael~” The voice sounded borderline pornographic as it tested his name. “Like Michael Myres, from Halloween. I like that.” Michael gulped, the action requiring some effort due to his suddenly dry throat. “What are you up to, Michael?”
“I- I- Uhm-” He stammered. “M- Making popcorn.”
“Making popcorn?” The voice sounded genuinely interested. “I only eat popcorn if I’m watching something. Are you preparing for a scary movie marathon?”
“No, nothing scary.” Michael felt his prior tension easing as the conversation began to seem normal. “Just my favorite show.”
“No scary movies?” The voice sounded playfully appalled. “It’s Halloween! How could you pass up a scary movie on Halloween?”
Michael bashfully scratched the back of his neck. “Not really my thing, I guess.”
“That’s a shame.” The voice sounded almost melodic. “I love a good scary movie.” After a long pause, the voice spoke up again. “So, do you have a girlfriend, Michael?”
He felt his face begin to glow red as his heart fluttered. That question definitely caught him off guard. “I- Well- Uhm- No, not exactly.”
“No need to be shy.” The voice purred. “I’m sure you’re more than a decent catch~”
“Thanks.” Michael struggled to fend off the flattered smile that was tugging at his lips. “So, uhm… Why are you asking me so many of these questions? Are you flirting with me, or something?”
“Maybe~” The voice took on an air of mischief. “I just want to know who I’m looking at.”
Michael felt his heart drop out of his chest. What the fuck?
He cradled the phone in his arms as he ran around the house, checking the windows to see if he could find any suspicious figure looking back at him.
When he couldn’t find anything, he just made sure the windows were locked before he held the phone back to his ear, returning to the kitchen. “What did you say?”
“I said I want to know who I’m talking to, silly!” The voice lightly giggled. “Everything okay?”
“N- no…” Michael breathed, the dread from earlier creeping back into his chest. “That wasn’t what you said.”
“I guess we’ll have to agree to disagree.” The voice spoke in a cautionary tone.
Michael struggled to swallow as he gulped again. “I wish I could say this was fun, but… Well… Goodnight, okay?”
“Don’t hang up on me.” The voice sounded a little more firm than the last time it asked him not to hang up.
Michael shivered. “Gotta go…” He hung up the phone and all but ran to the kitchen to take his popcorn off of the stove. He’d just finished pouring it into a large bowl when the phone rang again.
He rolled his eyes and tossed the empty pan in the garbage before picking up the phone. “Hello?”
“I told you not to hang up on me, Michael.” The voice sounded a lot less playful than before, instead bordering on angry. “That wasn’t very nice.”
“What’s your problem?” He began impatiently tapping his foot.
“I don’t have a problem with you, Michael.” The voice sounded almost as annoyed as Michael felt. “As I’ve already said, I just want to talk.”
“Well, talk to someone else, okay?” Michael hated the way his voice cracked, but he hoped he still got his message across.
“Are you getting scared?” The voice found its playful tone again, using it to tease him.
“No, just tired.” He slammed the phone back onto the receiver, making one last attempt to return to his cooling popcorn before the phone rang again.
Michael growled as he answered the phone. “Listen, I don’t-”
“NO, YOU LISTEN, YOU LITTLE BITCH!” The voice exploded. “If you hang up on me again I'll gut you like a fish! Do you understand me?!”
Michael was at a loss for words. As he tried to find the right words to say, his mouth opened and closed, like a fish filtering water.
“I’m sorry, Michael.” The voice purred after a tense moment of silence. “I don’t normally lose my temper so quickly like that. Especially on pretty boys like you.”
Michael was still stuck in an astonished silence, and the voice took that as an invitation to continue. “I don’t like being hung up on. That was rude…” The voice paused, sighing in disapproval before continuing. “I also couldn’t help but notice you locking your windows. I thought it was really bold of you to assume I wasn’t already inside.”
Suddenly, all the power in the house went out, plummeting Michael into a silent darkness. His blood ran cold as he rushed to one of his kitchen drawers to grab a flashlight.
“Wh- What the hell was that?” His hands began to shake as he clicked the flashlight on. “Is this some kind of sick joke?”
“No, no.” The voice reassured. “Nothing of the sort. I like to think of it as more of a game.”
“I- I’ll call the cops!” Michael attempted a threat of his own.
“Oh, come on, now.” The voice softly tutted. “You’re smarter than this, Michael. You know they’d never make it in time.”
He felt nauseous. “What do you want from me?”
“I want to play a game.” The voice calmly answered. “And if you play the right way, you get to walk out alive.”
Michael scoffed at the voice’s request. “You’re insane.”
“That wasn’t a no.” The voice softly giggled. “Come on, Michael. You know you want to. It’ll be fun~”
“Fine.” Michael spat. “I’ll play your stupid game.”
“Ouch.” The voice teased. “I haven’t even explained the rules yet. But, here they are. We’re going to do a little bit of trivia. I’ll ask you a series of questions. Each time you get a question wrong, I’ll walk into one room adjacent to the one I’m in. Each time you get a question right, I’ll stay put. You can move regardless, but only after you answer a question, and only one room at a time. Oh, and just know that you’ll be moving at your own risk. Got it?”
“You’re insane…” Michael repeated.
“I believe we’ve covered that.” The voice sounded amused at his apparent fear. “I may be insane, but I’m a woman of my word. I haven’t moved an inch since I got here.”
Michael silently shook his head. “I can’t believe this is happening.”
“A few last-minute things,” The voice went on. “If you hang up on me, I’ll kill you. If you try to leave the house, I’ll kill you. If you try to call the cops, I’ll kill you. Notice the trend?” The voice chuckled before continuing. “And, if I get to the same room as you? …Actually, let’s keep that a surprise for now.” The voice giggled again. “Are you ready for your first question, Michael?”
“Ready as I’ll ever be.” He felt defeated, and the game hadn’t even started yet.
“Good!” The voice enthused. “These questions are scary movie-themed, so I’m afraid you’ll be at a disadvantage.”
“Of course.” Michael muttered, bringing a hand up to massage the bridge of his nose.
“First question,” The voice began. “Proclaiming herself to be the ‘Mistress of the Dark’, this character hosted her own ‘Movie Macabre’ before moving on to star in her own self-titled film. What’s her name?”
Michael struggled to find an answer in his anxious mental haze. “I- I don’t know.”
“Really?” The voice sounded genuinely shocked. “What, do you live under a rock? You have to know this one! Men really love her for her huge… ratings! Yeah, ratings…”
Michael cringed at the voice's poor attempt at humor. “I still don’t know.”
“That’s unfortunate.” The voice sighed. “I’ll be moving rooms now, since the name Elvira doesn’t seem to be coming to your mind.” Then, the only thing Michael could hear on the other end of the line was the sound of a door softly opening and closing. “There we go.” 
His mind began to race as he tried to find some strategy to get himself through this game. His house was only one story high, and he only had so many rooms. When moving in, he felt he didn’t need much more than that, since he planned on living alone. He’d originally imagined that the woman was on the other side of the house, but she’d only specified that she was inside. She never told him where she was. That meant she could be anywhere from across the house to right outside the nearest door. Michael decided to stay in the kitchen for the time being. He didn’t want to risk bumping into her just yet… though he’d still be taking that risk if he stayed where he was.
“Alright!” The voice interrupted his thoughts. “Ready for the next question?”
“Let’s do it.” He did his best to summon his courage and clear his thoughts.
“Tell me the name of the killer doll from the film Child’s Play.” The voice directed.
Michael began biting his thumbnail in deep thought. I know this one. It’s that creepy ginger doll. But, what was his name?
“Tick tock, Michael.” The voice taunted. “Neither of us have all night.”
“Chucky!” He blurted once the answer finally came to mind. “The doll’s name was Chucky.”
An agonizing silence passed before the voice purred, “Well done, Michael. You’re more clever than you look. I guess I’ll be staying put this time.”
His mind began whirring again with a million questions. Where could she be? How long would it take for her to find him? What would she do to him once she did? He couldn’t just sit around and find out. Michael took the opportunity to slip from the kitchen into the living room. Since the doorway to the living room was open, he was able to make sure no one was there before entering.
“I see you decided to move this round.” The voice pointed out. “Interesting choice.”
“You know where I am right now?” He shuddered at the possibility.
“Of course I do.” The voice calmly responded. “I’ve been watching you this whole time, Michael.”
He quickly spun around, looking over his shoulder to make sure the owner of the voice hadn’t already found him. “H- How?”
“I don’t want to reveal my secrets just yet.” The voice responded.
Fuck! Michael’s heart began to pound. This obviously put him at a huge disadvantage. He needed to find a way to even out the playing field.
“Well, maybe I’m curious.” A new idea slowly unfurled in his mind as he spoke.
“Well, maybe I want to move on to the next question.” The voice insisted.
“Wait,” Michael felt his resolve slowly growing. “Before we do that, I want to change the rules of the game, just a little.”
A long pause followed, and just when Michael was worried that the voice wouldn’t take the bait, it responded. “Go on…”
“What if I could ask questions, too?” He proposed. “For every question you answer, I’ll stay still, but for every one you refuse, I move.”
This time, the voice let out a hum of consideration. “That sounds fun… I’ll accept, only if I get to move regardless, like you do when I ask questions.”
“Deal.” Michael knew this was a risky plan, but any answers he could get out of this person could help him to escape her. “We’ll alternate asking questions, so it’s fair.”
“Deal.” The voice purred. “After you, cutie~”
Michael felt his face flush as he tried to think carefully about his first question. Now is not the time to get flattered by a crazy killer in your house! …Come to think of it, why is she here?
He decided that would be his first question. “Why did you come here of all places?”
“Hmmm,” The voice paused for a moment before answering. “Because I was looking for a new catch, and you happened to be alone.”
“A new catch?” He was even more confused than before. “What do you mean?”
“Michael, Michael, Michael…” The voice tsked. “You didn’t waste any time before trying to break your own rule.” Michael could faintly hear the sound of a door opening and closing over the phone before the voice continued, softer than before. “I believe it’s my turn to ask a question.”
“Sorry,” Michael gulped. “Go on.”
“Alright, next question,” The line went silent again before the voice found its question. “Name one scary movie that came out this year.”
Michael scratched his head. He knew a lot of horror movies came out this year, but he barely paid attention to the trailers when they came on the television. Think, damnit!
He knew he had to get this one. The owner of the voice could have been anywhere in the house, and the living room had the most doors out of all the rooms.
“Michael, are you still there?” The voice softly giggled. “Oh, who am I kidding? Of course you are! Come on. Don’t keep me waiting.”
He knew there was a sequel to some Stephen King movie. What was it? The Shining? No. It? No… Cujo? No, but he vaguely remembered it involving pets. Wait a minute… Pets! That’s it!
“Pet Semetary II,” Michael breathed.
“Well done,” The voice didn’t pause before congratulating him this time. “That tracks. Looks like I’m not going anywhere.”
Michael quickly ran up to the nearest door, holding his ear up to it to make sure he couldn’t hear anyone on the other side. When he felt confident enough, he entered the room, softly closing the door behind him.
“The laundry room?” The voice sounded condescending. “That seems like a dead end to me, but if that’s what you want…”
“It’s my turn to ask a question.” Michael was anxious to get back to the point. He leaned back against the washing machine, gripping the edge with his free hand until his knuckles turned white.
“Okay, okay.” The voice conceded. “Ask away.”
“What did you mean earlier when you said you were looking for ‘a new catch’?” His voice wavered mid-question.
“That’s a good one,” The voice answered. “Sometimes, I’m not even sure, myself. I’ve chalked it up to this. The ideal catch for me is someone beautiful. Someone who’s willing to play my games. Someone strong enough to put up a good fight. But, above all, the ideal catch for me is someone clever and obedient.” After a heartbeat passed, the voice asked. “Is that a satisfactory answer for you, Michael.”
“I- I think so…” He gulped. He felt weak in the knees. What the hell was this person playing at? What was she hoping to do with him once she caught him? No, I can’t think like that. He mentally chided himself. I can’t lose this. I can’t!
But, at the same time, a new feeling rose within him. His sudden weakness in the knees couldn’t only be chalked up to fear. Hearing this voice compliment him tonight, it did things to him. How many times had she called him ‘clever’? How many times had she complimented his looks? Not to mention the thrill of having her go through all this trouble with the hopes of catching him. Part of him almost began to want to be found. Maybe it was because he hadn’t romantically been with someone in a while, but he suddenly found that the hairs on the back of his neck weren’t the only thing standing upright.
Get a grip! Michael frowned the crotch of his jeans, which was slowly pitching a tent.
A new sound snapped him out of his thoughts. He heard a door open and close, except it wasn’t just over the phone. He heard it in real life. He heard it from the next room. The owner of the voice was in the living room. His breath hitched. Oh, god! It’s over…
“Ready for your next question, Michael?” The voice spoke just low enough so he could only hear it through the phone.
Michael decided to match its volume. “Yes, I’m ready.”
“Alright,” The voice softly hummed as its owner thought of a question. “Okay! I got one. What is the name of the movie where a group of people take refuge in an old farmhouse to protect themselves from a horde of zombies?”
Now, this sounded very familiar. Michael recognized this as the plot to a movie he’d watched with his family when he was younger. It was one of the fonder memories he had with them before everything began to fall apart. But, it had been so long that he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to recall the name of it. What was it called?
“You’re killing me, Michael.” The voice groaned. “Must you take so long to come up with an answer to every single one of my questions?”
Michael’s brow furrowed in concentration. The title was on the tip of his tongue. If only he could recall it. He knew it had something to do with the ‘living dead’, because of the zombies, and it all happened at night… Oh! Duh! I’m a fucking idiot…
“It’s Night of the Living Dead.” Michael answered. “I used to watch it with my family as a kid.”
“How cute~” The voice purred. “And I thought scary movies weren’t your thing.”
“Not anymore…” He muttered.
“Do you have your next question ready?” The voice asked.
“I think I do.” Michael shuddered as he took a breath to steady his nerves. “Are you ‘The Maneater’ that the radio station’s been talking about?”
“Am I ‘The Maneater’?” The voice softly chuckled as it repeated his question. “I believe that is what they call me, yes.” After that, silence…
That was, until Michael could hear growing footsteps. His heart leapt into his throat. He’d forgotten that whenever he asked a question, she could move rooms regardless of whether or not she answered. This was it. She would open the door and kill him. It was game over. Oh god. Oh, fuck…
He couldn’t breathe. He clicked off his flashlight, but he knew it didn’t matter. She already knew where he was. The Maneater was right there.
Once the shadows of her feet appeared under the door, Michael felt tremors work their way through his body. He gulped, the heartbeat in his ears blocking out any other sounds around him.
Then, the shadows disappeared, and he heard the footsteps quickly retreat. Michael let go of the breath he was holding, a fresh wave of adrenaline coursing through his veins.
“Your fear is adorable.” The Maneater softly giggled. “No, that’s an understatement.” Her words grew breathy. “Your fear… it excites me.”
Michael willed his heart to slow down. He was convinced that, had the washing machine not been holding most of his weight, he would have keeled over.
“I could chase you like this for hours.” She ecstatically sighed. “After all this time I spent searching… I finally found the perfect catch.”
Her words were barely registering to him. Did she avoid him on purpose? She had the perfect opportunity to catch him just then. Why didn’t she?
“I have to ask, Michael,” The Maneater went on. “And I’m counting this as my next question… Do you enjoy being hunted?”
“Wh- What?” That fully grabbed his attention again.
“Do you enjoy being hunted?” She repeated. “Does our little game of cat-and-mouse excite you?”
Michael felt his face flush. It was like she was invading his mind, as well as his home. “Wh- What do you mean?”
“Don’t play dumb.” The Maneater scoffed. “I know you know what I mean.” Her voice grew sensual. “Does being hunted turn you on as much as it turns me on to chase you?”
Michael hesitated. Clearly, his common sense steered him to believe it didn’t. This woman was insane, and she’d killed men just like him. There was no way he could possibly enjoy being in such a dangerous position.
His body, however, heavily disagreed. It didn’t care about the circumstances. It just fell prey to the allure of this woman’s voice and it wasn’t as shy as he was about expressing his sudden libido. He looked back down at the evidence, growing more apparent the longer it strained against the front of his pants.
He decided to respond as vaguely as possible, seeing as he wasn’t too sure of the answer himself. “What does that matter? That doesn’t change the fact that I’m stuck playing this crazy game until you leave me alone.”
The Maneater softly chuckled at his boldness. “I should’ve expected that.”
Michael didn’t wait to hear whether or not she considered that answer correct. He knew he had to keep moving. He had to get out of that laundry room before she cornered him in it again.
He threw the door open, not even checking for The Maneater on the other side. He knew she was just a room away, and all she had to do to catch him was turn around, but he didn’t care. He was willing to take that risk. 
Michael rushed across the living room, stopping by the door to his bedroom. He already knew what his next question was going to be. He was going to ask The Maneater for her name. If she didn’t answer, he’d be able to move into a new room. If she did, then he’d finally know her by name. He just had to ask for her name and-
WHAM! A flash of pain exploded from the back of Michael’s head, and he fell to the floor from the impact. The last thing he saw was the ghoulish, dark empty eyes of a ghost-faced mask looking down at him before his vision went black.
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nirikeehan · 2 months
Text
wip wednesday??
okay I haven't done this in a thousand years but @theluckywizard tagged me... and I recently went insane after playing the game Road 96 and decided I needed to write a 12k long deep dive on the character Jarod.
...If you know, you know.
Anyway, it's called A Small Victorious War and the first chapter is already on AO3. Here is a bit from chapter 2, where he's looking for his missing teenage daughter, Lola, after she ran away to join a terrorist group.
Tagging: @ar-lath-ma-cully | @oxygenforthewicked | @rowanisawriter | @carnalapples | @exalted-dawn-drabbles | @monocytogenes | whoever wants to do it!!
---
He made a few calls and knocked on a few doors. He learned Mr. Winters had also left town, which set the familiar fury simmering in his gut. A group of these Brigade members were headed deep into the south, in Petria’s vast desert region. Aside from the oil fields, the area was mostly undeveloped, which meant they would be difficult to track.
And then there was the note. Please don’t look for me. He’d pursued people who didn’t want to be found before, and the rocks one had to overturn were usually unpleasant for everyone involved. He’d walked away from some of those with regrets. 
“This is our daughter, Jarod,” Maria said over the phone. “It’s different. How could you not want her home safe?” 
He didn’t say they should respect her wishes, exactly. He was less articulate, angrier, perhaps a bit accusatory about why Lola might choose to run away from her mother’s residence, where she spent most of her time. 
“Don’t you dare try to blame me for this,” his ex-wife said. “She’s sixteen years old. She’s too young to know what’s in her own best interest. You were always too easy on her. You let her do whatever she wanted, and look what’s happened.” 
Jarod hung up on her then, because otherwise he would start screaming. No, he never would have encouraged Lola to join a terrorist group. But he had, looking back on it, encouraged her to think for herself, which was maybe just as bad.
He imagined finding whatever compound the Brigades had taken her to, and dragging her out by the arm, kicking up dust as they went, the hatred bright in her eyes. I’ll never forgive you, she spat, and wrenched away from him when he got her into the cab, his fingerprints on her skin already beginning to bruise. It was this image he couldn’t shake, no matter how hard he tried. And he remembered how passionate she was about the idea that conditions in Petria could improve. She truly seemed to think it possible. 
So he stopped looking. 
His apartment was quiet that summer, and so was he, saying little more than the rote script required of him in his daily life. So where we headed today with Happy Taxi? And when Maria called he would tell her he’d let her know if he made any progress and she would ask him if he was drunk, and he would hang up again, angry, because his speech wasn’t that slurred. 
Then, as summer melted into September, he received mail from Lola. 
He called Maria immediately, the words blurring on the page, his mind racing too fast to properly absorb them. “I got the letter,” he said when she picked up, to which Maria said, “What letter?” and Jarod became very quiet. 
Lola had, apparently, only written to him. 
He had assumed that Lola would, as a matter of course, write to both parents. As he stood there, at the side table by the door of his apartment, reading the letter by the light of the streetlamp outside, he tried to ascertain why it was him she chose. He gripped the phone tighter in his hand and breathed slowly. 
“She’s all right,” he said, because at least that much seemed accurate.
“Where is she?” Maria demanded. “Is she coming home?” 
“Doesn’t say,” he said. The letter was dated the fifth of September, postmarked the sixth. Today was the eighth, meaning it must have been mailed somewhere within a hundred miles, to be delivered with such swiftness. So she was likely back in the north. The return address was a P.O. Box, but listed a town he didn’t recognize and suspected to be fabricated.
“Jarod, what does it say?” Maria asked. 
A few other things, including something “big” that would “change everything” in four days. Given the date on the letter, that meant tomorrow. This was, he suspected, why she wrote to him and not her mother. The promise of results. That her actions weren’t only frivolity. That she’d been right that day in his living room, grasping his arm, full of fervent hope. 
And she’d also signed it, in her signature way, All my love, except it was encased in a word bubble and spoken by a cartoon dinosaur that she had drawn, which made him think perhaps she had forgiven him for the plastic dinosaur incident. He wanted desperately to write her back and tell her it wasn’t too late, that she could still walk away from this, still go to university and study paleontology, he would help her, he would do anything. 
“She says she loves us,” Jarod lied, “and that she’ll be in touch again soon.” 
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