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peachesofteal · 6 months

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The Pit

COD masterlist Part 1/2 - Part 2

Ghost/Soap/female reader 6.3k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: 18+ MDNI, dub con, kidnapping, manipulative hurt/comfort, whump, the guys shave you, humiliation, forced orgasm, predator/prey, medical inaccuracies. Clothed males/naked female. The Pit by Silversun Pickups. Horror-ish. Misery inspired.

Winter in the mountains can be cruel.

This is something you’ve always known, even as a child. You were raised with it. Chose to return to it after school, decided to make a go of it, of a life here, as an adult. You knew what you were getting yourself into, long cold winters that felt both bleak and promising, unblemished blankets of snow possessing the ability to be stunning, while also lethal. Winters were dangerous, silent killers that left corpses in their wake and no amount of lupine or paintbrushes, glacier fed lakes or springtime moose calves could make up for the hell that winter wrought. Winter brings most living things to the knife’s edge of survival, forcing most to bow beneath the weight of its fury, backs breaking with the burden of just existing in an environment that truly acts, and feels, inhospitable.

Although, there are those who do more than survive the cold, violent stretch of winter.

There are predators who thrive.

“You closin’?” Your coworker, the new one, asks from where she’s settled across the dark wood bar, two amber Budweiser bottles empty in front her idle hands, eyes wandering to guys posted up by the loneliest pool table in fifty square miles.

“I am.” She casts the only window in the entire place a surreptitious glance, fingers peeling away at a label. It’s snowing, has been for hours, flakes fat and wet, fluffy enough that the density of the snow on the ground is light, but dangerous, as it hides the real risk underneath; packed snow sitting with a slick sheen of ice on top.

“You still trying to make it over Fall River pass tonight?” You nod.

“Yeah. Supposed to see my brother and his new place this weekend.”

“Fall River? Is that even open right now?” Andy, a regular who lives a few streets over from you, chimes in, twisting an empty rocks glass in his fist. You pull the bottle of Jameson from the rail and tip it vertical, honey brown liquid sloshing like a wave until his glass is halfway full, and he gives you a flirty kind of smile, the same one he’s been giving you for a year now. Yeeesh.

“It is. I could go around, but it just takes too long. And it’s Friday. I’m not trying to be stuck on the highway with weekend traffic.” You complain, and they both commiserate your opinion. The traffic is brutal, especially in the winter. Driving in hazardous conditions is considered to be a talent more than an innate ability here, and people often overestimate their aptitude for it, causing crashes and delays that get the highway shut down for hours, or even days, at times. You shrug. “I’ve had my snow tires on for weeks. Might as well get some use out of them.” Andy snorts.

“Like you haven’t been gettin’ good use out of them? First real snow was before Halloween this year.” You nod. He’s not wrong. You did get dumped on two weeks before the end of October, twenty-three inches piling up within two days, before half the area was even ready for it. You throw him a polite smile, one that you hope reads like ‘okay thanks for the concern, we’re done now’ and he sighs. “Well, drive safe.”

Fall River pass, it turns out, is not open. It’s closed by the time you split off from the interstate and start the windy, switch-backed trek in your jeep, flashing orange and yellow lights dotting the top of a barricade just barely visible through the speckled snow flying by in your headlights.

Fuck. You could have sworn the DOT website said it was open. You take a deep breath, quelling the anxiety that roils your stomach. Okay. Not the end of the world. There’s another road. A less maintained option, but… you’ll be fine. You’ve driven in worse.

The other road, a sharp, narrow, desolate path that cuts through a large swath of unmanaged forest just outside the national park, is easy at first. You’ve been driving the same jeep for years, a 2007 two door Wrangler, and you know how it handles like the back of your hand. With snow tires, it could pretty much cut through anything, even unplowed, fire watch roads like this one.

Which is why, after the first few miles, your nerves fully settle, and you allow yourself to relax a little bit behind the wheel, easing the jeep across the dips and slicks in the road as you cautiously build speed, snow falling fast through night, growing thicker the higher you travel into wilderness territory, and the farther you left modern civilization behind.

An hour creeps by, and then two. Long enough that you’ve now realized you’re the only one using this road, fresh snow blanketing the woods around you, topography and vegetation starting to change as you encroach on what you assume must be eleven thousand feet. You’ve seen this road on google maps once, or twice maybe, having noted it for future travel just in case of a situation like this. It runs perpendicular to Fall River, and eventually meets another, one that must be similar, on the other side of the range. The secondary road is one that takes you along the ridge, and then down, you’re pretty sure, although you can’t be one hundred percent certain, because you lost cell reception before you even turned off from Fall River.

Still, won’t hurt to check and see if you have this area downloaded.

You pull your phone from the center console, thumbing at the screen, allowing your eyes to linger too long without looking back up through the windshield. No one else is out here. It’s not like you need to worry about oncoming traffic. The little SOS insignia blinks at the top corner, and you tap on the map icon, hoping it will bring up your geo location so you can glance at the satellite image of the area.

You’re so fixated watching the little circle of death try to load, that by the time you look up and see the tree laying across the road, it’s far too late. You do the first thing you were always taught not to do in winter conditions, and slam on the brake, shoving the pedal to floor, heart rate sky rocketing as you panic and lose total control of the jeep. You spin, shoulders and chest jamming against the seatbelt, headlights flashing off into the woods, illuminating an endlessly dark web of trees, bark and branch scratching across the paint as you careen off the road, tipping too precariously onto two wheels and then rolling.

Time, your life, stands completely still for a moment. You see every individual fiber of the pine needles, every uniquely designed snowflake, every single droplet of blood that floats away from your face and through midair as you crash through the forest, your grasp on consciousness slipping farther and farther away, the jeep finally coming to a stop on its side, your head cracked against the driver’s window, stars and streaks spawning out across your vision, headlights finally blinking out completely, leaving you alone in the dark. Your head spins like you’re still rolling, and the only sound in the dead silent snow is your harsh breathing, frantic terror bubbling up through your throat as pain surges through your body.

It's freezing, but you feel surprisingly warm.

You’re going to die out here. No one knows you took this road, you don’t have service, by the time they find you, it’ll be too late. You’ll be a bled out, frozen corpse, long gone and-

You lose your train of thought quickly. Everything starts to fracture, fissures forming in your consciousness, part of you already losing the battle to the inevitable, darkness pulling over your eyes like a knit hat, lungs heaving just a little harder with each breath.

You could just close your eyes. Just for a moment.

Light sweeps across the ground, flashing across your face. You think, if you were truly with it, in your right mind, you’d think it was too bright. You’d say it was blinding.

But you can’t formulate anything of the sort, mind too busy slipping away, falling into an inky black depth, just barely on the verge when you feel a gloved hand on your skin, the lilt of an accent on the wind.

Sleep.

You’re drifting. Falling through a stardusted, molasses filled haze, your mind ebbs and flows with consciousness; soft and warm feelings contrasted with sharp pain that bites through your body as if it’s slowly trying to eat you, chipping away piece by piece.

There are words, voices. There are hands too, fingers walking across your skin, limbs being moved, arranged, always with pain that’s followed by a hushed whisper of apology, a confusing sentiment in the dark. Your eyes won’t open. Your mouth won’t work. Your head is stuffed with cotton, wispy strands of connections that can’t quite get there, scrounging along the walls of your skull, trying to meet in the middle. You’re drowning, sinking to the bottom of a macabre pool, the one that’s infected your synapses and kept you just inside the shelter of delirium.

You try to call for help, but you can’t.

You try to swim to the surface, but the grisly black of your mind is never ending.

You’re dying, the tiny sliver of rational thought assures. Or you’re already dead.

Despair swells, and if you could feel your face, you’d think you were crying, lost to the sweeping desolation of your pain. It steals your breathe. Your sense. Everything becomes secondary to the obliterating agony that you feel.

Something touches your cheek. Your eyes fight to open, straining against the heaviness that weighs on them, just barely blinking wide enough to let some light in, your vision fuzzily trying to focus.

Wood beams come into view. A ceiling? Where-

You try to turn your head but an electric shock rattles through your brain, forcing you to slam your eyes shut again, world spinning on an uneven axis as something on the edge of your sight shifts. A monster. A man?

Something is said, whispered, and then everything fades away, your mind and body slipping beneath the waves of darkness.

The next time you surface, you manage to cling to consciousness long enough to take stock of your surroundings, realizing you’re tucked into a soft, warm bed almost immediately, something hot near your feet, pillows fluffed beneath you. A hand stitched quilt is spread across the top of copious other blankets and sheets, and your fingertips scratch against the fabric. Flannel.

You’re also awake long enough to truly experience the pain you’re in.

One thousand tiny knives rattle around in your skull, slicing into the soft matter of your brain, tearing you apart piece by piece, everything in you unmoored and off balance. Searing pain radiates up your leg, through your arm and wrist to your head and neck, and when your instinct urges you to try to move, your body screams in protest, the pain so intense that you cry out.

That’s when you see him.

A man steps towards you from the edge of your peripheral, and you freeze in terror.

“Shhh. We’re not goin’ hurt ye. Ye had a terrible accident. Pure luck we found ye when we did, dove. Ye would’ve died out there.” He coos in an accent, inching closer, and you manage to get a better look at him, recognition failing immediately. An accident? An accident… memories come flooding back, broken clips of the jeep spinning, rolling, the woods, the fear. Who is he? Where are you? Brilliant blue eyes look down at you with concern, handsome face tweaked into worry, furrow in his brow partially covered by the long strands of an overgrown mohawk. He’s pretty. “Can ye follow my finger?” He presents one in front of your nose, but it splits into two, and then three, just the attempt to focus enough to make your head throb, and a whimper escapes from your throat. “I know, I know.” There’s a ceramic mug in his hand, and he carefully lifts it to your lips, encouraging you as he tips it back, warm, sweet liquid washing down your throat. You can’t even move your arms to push him away, and when he seems to be satisfied, his thumb wipes the corner of your mouth. “Good love. Well done.” You feel woozy all of the sudden, maybe even a little nauseous, and you think you could be hallucinating when another man appears at the foot of the bed, handsome, but in a rugged way, watching you with honeyed brown eyes, the broadest, biggest thing you’ve ever seen.

“Those bones need setting.” He says, and the pretty one grimaces, fingertips trailing along your cheek.

“Maybe tomorrow. I’m still worried about the concussion.” His thumb cards across your brow.

“It’s been three days, Johnny. Can’t put it off too much longer.” Three days? Your brain latches onto the time. Three days of what? Since when? You’re starting to fade, trying to focus on what they’re saying but losing the battle horrendously when the blankets shift, warmth tucking down around your waist and shoulders, unable to react or even speak when they both press a kiss to your forehead, affectionate and longing touch that startles you until you’re losing the battle to sleep.

It's snowing.

You don’t have to see to know. There’s something about how it hangs in the air, how the world sounds during a snowfall that blankets everything: houses, trees, mountains… your mind.

You love the snow. Even as a child, winter was your favorite. Winter brought you a sense of calm, of peace. It’s what brought you back here, kept you here, even amidst the perils. The feeling of a forest, lying still beneath the soft spun expanse of white, the crisp smell of the air the morning of a big snow, the eternal quiet that exists in the night when everything is dampened by the weight of a million, billion, uniquely crystalized webs of frozen water.

This snow feels different. It doesn’t feel like a velvety white, candy-coated dream world; but a nightmare… one filled with pain, anxiety. Where are you? What’s happened?

And why do you hurt so fucking bad?

“You’re awake.” A deep voice says from your side, and you flinch on instinct, immediately wishing you hadn’t as lightning sharp pain zings through you, your voice breaking with a cry. “Easy.” He cautions, and your head stops swimming long enough for you to realize it’s the brown eyed man, the bigger one. He’s sitting in a chair that looks far too small for his width, watching you with an intensity that makes you feel exposed.

“Where… am I?” You manage to choke out through stiff lips, your head spinning and the world tilting at the same time. It sours your stomach, more than you thought possible, and you try to swallow the burn of bile that’s racing up your throat.

“Are you going to be sick?” He strokes your face, the touch nearly sweet, but confusing, and you hold your tongue, unsure. He sighs, expression shifting into disapproval, and then a frown. “Tell me.”

“N-no, I don’t-“ You can’t even finish your denial before your stomach is heaving and he’s springing into action, shifting you onto your side where a clean bucket sits right next to the bed. You wail in misery, pain shooting through your leg and arm, your ribs, bile and spit leaking from your mouth.

“It’s alright, that’s it.” A hand soothes up and down your back as you dry heave, sputtering on nothing, tears dripping to the wooden floorboards with a splash.

“Nnrgh-“

“I know, I know. Poor thing.” He coos, and it sounds… endearing, so sweet yet… frightening, like the poison of a predatory, a pretty display meant to draw you in before it snaps a set of jaws shut around your face.

Somewhere, nestled inside the last shards of your sanity, an alarm bell whistles, but the intensity of your pain quickly drowns it out, and you cry aloud.

“Hurts.” He rolls you back to your original position, arranging you like a doll. “It hurts.”

“I know it does, sweet girl, I know. We’re going to fix it.” A cloth dabs at your forehead and then down to clean your mouth, just as the man with the mohawk appears on the bed, one knee down, leaning over you, worry rife in his features.

“Poor baby. Were ye sick again?” Again? You blink up at him. What is going on? He presses a glass to your lips, urging you to drink, and then pulling it away after you’ve had a few sips with a gentle “not too much.”

“Who are you?” The water is cold, refreshing, but a ting acidic, and you wonder if it’s well water, maybe?

“I’m Johnny.” He’s setting up something beside you, organizing it, but you can’t turn your head to look, and can’t quite catch it from your peripheral. “An’ this is Simon. Or Si, but ye probably willnae be callin’ him that quite yet.” Quite yet? What? Did they find you? Did they rescue you? Why can’t you remember?

“What happened.” You try again, gritting your teeth.

“Ye had an accident, remember? We talked about it yesterday. Ye rolled off the road, ended up nearly down the mountain, in the thick of the trees. Ye’re lucky the one didnae impale ye.” Impale?

“And you found me?” You're starting to feel tired again, all the sudden, woozy and weird, exhaustion pulling at your limbs. Shouldn't you be in a hospital? Why haven't they taken you to a doctor?

“Aye, we did. Pulled ye out, brought ye home.” Home?

“You don’t have to worry.” Simon, the bigger one, tells you. “We’re going to take care of you.” Take care of who? Everything is foggy, clouded, and you try to shake your head in confusion.

“I don’t… why-“

“Storm is pretty bad. One of those, once in a lifetime types. Pass is closed.” You close your eyes. Of course. The pass is closed. You guess you’re lucky. They could have left you to die, and you could have never been found. You could have frozen to death. Bled out.

“Thank… thank you.” Johnny hums, and then you ripple in shock as he leans forward and brushes his lips against your mouth in a kiss. This… this is not normal? Are Scottish people just… more affectionate?

“Want ye to know, if we didnae have to do this, we woudnae.” What?

“Do what?” Simon casts you a mournful glance, rising from the chair. He’s got piece of leather in his hand, like a cut from a belt, and your eyes dart between them, fear freezing solid inside your pores. Do what?

“Bite down on this, precious.” Simon instructs, placing the swatch against your bottom lip, and you jerk away in protest, pain burning through your body.

“Do what?” You try to sound strong, demanding, but it comes out a little less than timid, and he gives you a sad smile.

“Your femur is broken.” A warm hand rests on your leg, over the covers, and you try to click the pieces together. “And I suspect your radius is, too. We need to set them.”

Oh. Oh no.

“N-no, no, you… you ca-can’t.” You stutter. They can’t. A doctor should be doing that, shouldn’t they? Johnny hovers over you, placing his palm on your belly, stroking upwards to the middle of your chest, the other holding firm across your collarbone. His touch is gentle, but strong, and his thumb rubs in a cautious motion against your skin, lightly grazing the underside of your breast. It feels weird, and wrong… intimate in a way that makes you shiver. “Please. Please, please… don’t-“

“It’s alright.” He shushes you, and the pressure increases against your body as Simon wedges a thick finger between your teeth, slipping the worn leather in your mouth, bracing around your wrist, his other hand holding your elbow. You gasp for air, adrenaline fueled by pain and fear coursing through you, and Johnny coos, telling you ye’ll be alright, that ye’re with them now, and they’ll take such good care of ye.

“Take a deep breath.” Simon urges, and you stare at him, wide eyed, pulse thundering in your ears.

“Ye’ll probably pass out, bonnie. We’ll get the second one done while ye’re down, and I already gave ye somethin’ for the pain.” He assures, like it’s supposed to relieve you, and your nostrils flare as something tightens against your arm. Simon’s grip.

This can’t be happening. This has to be a nightmare. How can this happen? No, nononono-

There’s a crack. A crunch. Burning, obliterating torture rockets up your arm, exploding inside you like a shot. You scream and bite down at the same time, raw misery trying to claw it’s way out of your throat. You think you’re crying, hallucinating from the pain, having a heart attack, fucking dying, all at once. It hurts, it hurts so bad, stop, please-

“We’re sorry, we’re sorry.” Simon soothes, thumb wiping your cheek, but you can hardly hear him, your brain starting to sever itself from reality, floating away as you slip inside the dark tomb of your mind, losing yourself to the fog as they both stare down at you, sickeningly saccharine concern layered overtop the faces of wolves, predators licking their maws in preparation for a meal.

You sleep and wake in a haze.

You sleep. Your dreams are torments, visions of being chased through the mountains by monsters, being pinned to the ground, teeth tearing into your throat with no preamble, or nightmares of drowning, being swallowed by the ocean, lungs sputtering with concrete laden sea water.

You wake. Your vision blurs, mind scrambled by pain, vaguely aware of being moved, carried to the bathroom, held upright over a toilet, gentle touch soothing up and down your back, heavy palm cupping curve of your skull when your head is tipped back and something is dribbled past your lips. You blink blearily with stone weighted lids, taking in the room bit by bit, the wrought iron bed frame, crackling flames sparking in a fireplace, mountain of pillows sagging with the imprint of your body. Your limbs are wrapped and unwrapped, immobilized, and shifted, and the pain is enough to make you gasp for air, tipping you over into the decaying depths of unconsciousness again and again.

You sleep. Restless, chilled. Ice spreads from the nerves in the tip of your nose to your brain, your fingers, and you try to burrow it deeper, seeking the comfort of the pillows, but finding warm skin and muscle instead. In your sleep, it’s lovely. It’s comforting. Even when you’re rolled to your side, something sticking under your tongue, you chase the heady thick heat that seems to roll off the limbs around you.

You wake. There are voices, deep and rumbling, bouncing through the room. Warm water dabbing down your neck, your belly, your legs. You’re too hot, uncomfortable and smothered until you hear a sharp pitched snarl accompanied by a yank, and then there’s a void of emptiness around you.

You sleep.

You wake. The pain starts to change, melting into something that’s consistent, throbbing, but a little less sharp, unless you move, and then it shrieks through your nerves like an electrical shock, vibrating your jaw shut.

You sleep.

You wake. They’re there. Simon is dabbing a cool washcloth across your forehead. You try to flex away on instinct, but firm hands stop you, holding you in place.

“Hey there, dove.” Johnny whispers, smiling. It’s a shy kind of smile, sweet, and the world spins. You grapple with reality, trying to remind yourself where you are, what happened. The fire snaps and pops behind Simon, who stands at his side, massive hand on his shoulder. “Made ye some breakfast. Think ye can eat somethin’?” Breakfast? A steaming bowl of oats sits cradled in his hand, spoon at the ready. Nausea roars, enflamed by the pain in your bones, and you shake your head. “Ye need to eat. Been givin’ ye soup for the past few days, but ye need more carbs.”

“I- I don’t understand.” You try to explain your confusion, hundreds of questions brewing on your tongue, trying to spill out.

“You’ve been in and out consciousness for the last week.” Simon explains, and your eyes widen.

“What?” Panic knots, twisting you up tight, heart fluttering in your chest.

“We had to sedate you. Needed to keep you still through the first part of the healing process.”

“You… you drugged me?” You stammer, and Simon smiles, but it’s not sweet like Johnny’s. It’s severe. It’s dangerous.

“Soft calluses form around fractures, after they’ve been set.” He sits down on the other side of the bed, across your hips from Johnny. “Your breaks aren’t in casts, so we needed to minimize your movement until the calluses could strengthen.”

“Ye willnae be able to walk on the leg, or lift anything with that arm, but we’ll help ye.” Johnny assures. “We’ll be here for ye, as ye get better.” The words don’t compute, and you look at both of their faces, sweeping back and forth, blue eyes to brown, brown to blue, until the only thing that you can think of blurts out of your mouth:

“Where’s my phone?” There’s a flash of discontent in Johnny’s features, but it’s quickly smoothed away, and you wonder if it even there in the first place.

“I imagine it’s somewhere near where your jeep rolled. We weren’t exactly concerned with finding it, considering we were trying to save your life.” Simon’s hands flex in the sheets, and then relax, serious look on his face, and guilt swamps you. Right. They saved your life. You could have died. And the pass is closed. Maybe this is all… as normal as it can be, given the situation. Calm down.

Still…

Didn’t Johnny kiss you?

The spoon clinks against the bowl, jolting you back to the moment, eyeing the scoop of oats as it drifts closer to your mouth, lips parting on instinct.

The first bite is difficult, an insipid, unsavory lump sliding down into your stomach, toothy grin stretching across Johnny’s face as you swallow. The second bite is easier. So is the third, and you manage a few more after that until you start to feel wooly, head fuzzy and stomach sick. “I can’t.” You bleat, and he nods sympathetically.

“Alright, ye did good.” Sleep tugs, insistent again, strong surge of fog pulling at your eyes, and you yawn.

“Tired?” Simon’s already moving, hovering, patiently adjusting your pillows and lazily urging you into them. “You should rest.” You’re too weak, too miserable to argue, so you let yourself fade to black, easily falling back into the webbed slush of sleep.

You drift in and out for days after that. A bright spot of consciousness here and there before it dissipates and you fall into oblivion, and you find yourself embracing it as often as possible, trying to escape into yourself, away from wooden beams and potential predators that flank you.

You’re content to let it stay that way, hiding away behind closed lids for as long as possible, until the morning you feel the washcloth.

“Sh-sh-shhh.” Johnny hums when you garble out a distressed question, tipping a glass to your mouth. Cold liquid rushes across your tongue, and you have no choice but to swallow, confusion webbing across your thoughts. Simon has the blankets pulled away, chilled air nipping and your skin, and you moan. It’s strange, like you’re exposed, half floating like you’re high, and half spiraling through your pain.

“It’s okay, we’ve got you.” They’re repositioning you, arms and legs like a little doll, and you frown. “Jus’ need to get you clean.” Clean? The washcloth coasts across your neck and down to your chest, warm water soaking a trail down your breasts. You’re naked, fully, a hot palm against your hip, skin on skin contact registering as you blink fuzzily, watching the way Johnny focuses on you, concentration shining in his stunning blue eyes.

Water sloshes. Squeezing and dripping, and then the warm, nearly hot cloth is being pressed against you, stroking over your nipples, washing the underside of your breasts. It feels nice, and you whine a little when it pulls away. Simon chuckles.

“Do ye like that?” Johnny coos, reapplying the cloth to your belly. “Does that feel good?” Does it? Is it supposed to? Your vision doubles then realigns, and you stare at the underside of Simon’s jaw, mesmerized by the scar on his chin, the width of his neck. He readjusts you, again, slowly moving your knees apart, spreading your legs, and heat climbs through your bones to your cheeks.

You’re naked. They’re fully clothed.

“We’re goin’ clean this up a bit.” Simon murmurs, a thick finger tracing along your slit, through the soft curls between your legs, and you balk. Clean what? How?

“My… my-“ you can’t even get the words out, too embarrassed, and he nods, sliver flash of a razor twinkling in his hand. The air in your chest sputters.

“Your hair.” Johnny works the washcloth back and forth, water dripping down your skin to the towel that’s been placed under your hips, you can only lay there in mortification when you feel yourself getting wet, tepid arousal roaring to life between your legs. “If you’re a good girl for us,” Simon continues, spraying a big glob of shaving cream into Johnny’s palm, “we’ll give you a treat afterwards. How’s that sound?”

“A treat?” You squeak, and then whimper, Johnny’s fingers creeping down your slit, rubbing the cream across your pubis and labia, heel brushing against your clit. You make a noise of a protest, but it falls on deaf ears.

“Ye’re alright.” He coos, bumping against the swollen bud again, and you try to stop the moan that builds in your chest with no success, slamming your eyes shut and trying to disappear into the pillows. “It’s natural, dove. Ye dinnae need to feel embarrassed.” He leans forward, slotting his mouth against yours, lips soft and fragrant in a pillowy sweet kiss that lasts too long, his eyes blissfully closed in front of your almost crossed ones.

“Please…” you whisper, but you’re not sure what you’re asking for, and Johnny coos at you, bending at the waist to get a better vantage point between your legs. You shake your head, eyes wide with disbelief, with fear, your mind trying to catch up, trying to rationalize what’s happening at the same time as your body is betraying you, slicking the cream that’s lathered between your thighs, clit pulsing with desperate need.

“I- I don’t want you to… shave me.” You whisper. You don’t want them to touch you… there, and the panic that’s pulsing between your ears continues to rise as your protests go unnoticed. Just saying it out loud makes you want to die of embarrassment, and Simon clucks.

“We have to take care of you, sweet girl.” Simon grips your thigh, fingers pressing into flesh, and the cool blade of the razor moves against the grain with a flick of his wrist, drawing back to a bucket for a rinse before a repeat, breath frozen in your chest as he slowly eliminates the curls of your pubic hair. “It will be easier to do that, to see what you need without all this.” He hums, the smile of a wolf coy on his face. “Stay nice and still for us.” They work in tandem, perfectly synchronized, and your unwanted arousal starts to overpower the pain that’s radiating from your broken bones. It’s been so, so long since you’ve been touched by anyone, and your body does not care that you didn’t want this, or agree to it, too eager to be satisfied, to be touched in anyway it can get, and it gets worse, more intense the longer it goes on, the precise movements of their hands, the slow and methodical approach to your cunt. “Almost done.” Simon tells you, and the side of his finger passes over your clit unintentionally, and you whine. “I know, I know. You’re bein’ so good. Such a good girl.” Your good hand is shaking, gripping the sheets, and when he finishes, Johnny wipes you down with a clean cloth, passing over your clit again and again, electric shocks sparking in your belly. You’re paralyzed, helpless, and yet… soaked. Desperate. The warring emotions tear at you, shame and fear and desire rendering you speechless.

“I think ye need some relief, dove.” Johnny hums, looking from your pussy to Simon, both of them tilting their heads to stare between your legs. “Poor thing is so swollen, Si.”

“Do you want to touch her, Johnny? Give her a reward?” Simon asks him, so sweetly, and Johnny shimmies down to be eye level with your pussy, tongue darting out to lick his lips.

Half of you screams no. Half of you shouts yes.

All you can do is watch, helplessly, as they settle themselves between your legs, Simon over Johnny’s shoulder, tempering his frenzied excitement with assured patience.

“Will ye show me how?” He’s eager, and you frown, confused.

“Johnny’s never made a girl come before,” Simon tells you gently. “You’ll be his first.” Oh my god. “Will you help him? Tell him what feels good?” Your brain melts. You don’t know what to say, mouth half open, staring at the both of them, and after a few seconds, Simon sighs like he’s exasperated with you, before ducking back down next to Johnny and murmuring softly to him, probing along your cunt, finger dipping into your hole, swirling in the wetness gathered there and then moving up to your slit. You gasp, eyes nearly rolling back in your head.

“She likes that.” Johnny groans, breath blowing over your exposed flesh, and Simon takes his hand, thumb over thumb, guiding him in small circles around your clit.

“Nice an’ slow at first, when you’re rubbin’ her clit. Feel how hard it is?” He instructs, pressing a kiss to the side of Johnny’s head, and he nods enthusiastically, looking up at Simon with wide, puppy dog eyes, sappy and saturated with love. It’s sweet, and affectionate, like they’re the only ones in the room, in the world… and you’re intruding on a private moment between these two men and your body. Like you’re a bystander. Or a doll. It’s confusing, your brain trying to sort everything that’s happening into neat little boxes that keep overflowing or falling apart, fracturing under the weight of your helplessness, the shock and fear that’s nearly made you dizzy. “See how her little hole is clenchin’ like that? It’s ‘cause she’s empty, needs to be filled up. When she comes, she’ll get real tight.” He explains, your body enflaming in mortified heat. They’re pushing you closer and closer to an orgasm, and Simon increases the speed as your hips jolt.

“Fuck.” You hiss.

“That’s it.” Simon coaches. “Are you close, sweet girl? Gonna come for us?” You shake your head, but even if you wanted to close your legs, you couldn’t. You’re trapped, lost in a sea of wild waves that break directly over your head, one after another until you’re drowning, gasping, muscles so tight they burn, pain in your arm and leg a secondary concern behind the pressure in your belly, the zap of your clit as they drag you too easily to the bottom, before sending you breaking through the surface.

You come with a distressed moan, hips jerking, and then a raspy plea for them to stop, telling them it’s too much, you’re too sensitive, to which Simon wraps his hand around Johnny’s wrist and pulls his hand away.

“We can’t overwhelm her just yet. Gotta wait until she’s healed up, hm?” He murmurs, reaching for the cloth. You blink at the ceiling, drifting, floating away, little boxes in your mind broken up into gnarled pieces that don’t make sense.

What just happened?

You stay silent, blank, as they settle you, cloth cleaning between your legs, blankets being fussed with around your body, pillows plumped. Simon curls some of your unruly hair behind your ear, swooping down until the breadth of his body blocks out all the light in the room, lips brushing over your ear. “What a good girl you are, dove. Did so well, letting Johnny give you an orgasm. So sweet for him.” He tucks you in a little tighter, and Johnny ducks around him, kissing you gently, like you’re made of glass, thrilled smile tugging at his cheeks, unfettered joy the last thing you see before your eyes slip shut.

The next time you wake, Johnny is in bed with you. It’s dark, a flickering orange glow casting shadow across the room, and you startle at the weight of his arm stretched across your chest, cradling you close, half curled around you like a cat. You turn, face to face, his mouth slightly agape, breath blowing over your cheek. You can’t get enough leverage on one leg to slide out from under him, and when you squirm, he only tightens his grip, pinning you to the bed. You’re overheated, and when you peek over his shoulder to get a look at the fire, you see Simon instead, sitting upright in a chair, fully awake, watching you. White hot fear shocks your system, forcing your eyes down in disbelief, surprise, his chair creaking in the night. Your breath stops in your chest, and then there’s a hand smoothing over your forehead, as he leans past you to brush his lips against Johnny’s, and then rough stubble presses against your cheek with a jagged whisper.

“Sweet dreams, little dove.”

#peaches writes #dub con #ghost x soap x reader #soap x ghost x reader #ghoap x reader #john soap mactavish #ghost x reader x soap #simon riley #simon riley x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #Ghoap #soap x reader

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sebuckyverse · 1 year

Text

roommates [chapter 1]

modern!eddie munson x fem!reader

series summary: Eddie Munson broke your heart once. Now, you have no choice but to move in with him. warnings: 18+ cussing, angst, sort of enemies to lovers lol; lmk if i missed anything word count: 1,8k a/n: hello i'm back!! happy valentines day to all my besties and my wife of course! i'm celebrating my birthday today so as a gift to you, i give you a new series! i'm nervous about this bc i'm convinced this is trash lmao LET ME KNOW WHAT Y'ALL THINK babes ps! i originally didn't intend to give this an era, but due to some things that happen in future chapters this turned out modern again lol sorryy

masterlist ↡ askbox ↡ next chapter ↠

chapter one ♫♪♩·.¸¸

''Absolutely not!''

''Come on, he's not that bad.''

''No, Steve. I'd rather sleep on the streets.''

''You'd rather be homeless then live with him?''

''Yes.''

Steve sighed, hands on his hips, striking his signature mom pose. ''What the hell happened between you two, anyway?''

''What, he hasn't told you?''

''He's told me his version of events. You on the other hand, never seem to want to talk about it.''

Sighing, you stared into the glass sat in front of you, filled with clear liquid with a greenish hue underneath, twirling the small paper umbrella Steve added as a joke.

''It doesn't matter. What Eddie Munson and I once had, or didn't have, theoretically, is in the past.''

''Then take the room. You're both working, you'll hardly ever see each other.''

Dragging your words, you nervously played with the ends of your hair. ''I don't know...''

''Look, I gotta open the doors. You can stay in the back office tonight if you want, there's an uncomfortable leather couch with your name on it. I'd let you crash at ours, but Nance has been... emotional.''

''She okay?'' you winced, hopping of the barstool you had been sitting on the last hour.

''She thinks she can feel the baby kicking but then she realizes that it's far too early for that and starts crying.''

''Oh,'' you cooed. ''She's just excited.''

''Yeah, I know. I'm excited, too.''

You closed the door to the office space that would be your bedroom for the night. It was small, but held a small desk with various papers scattered on it, a bookshelf half empty and as promised, a worn out brown leather couch. Dropping your purse on the desk, you retrieved your phone and sat down on the couch. You rested your head on the back of the couch, eyes closed, nearly falling asleep if it weren't for the sudden rock music booming outside. You'd almost forgotten you were at Steve's place of work, a bar downtown called the Black Room.

Staring at the bleak ceiling, you bit the inside of your cheek when you felt your eyes getting watery. For the past year, after graduating high school, you had been working your ass off at a local diner across town. You were saving money for college, and other things, since you didn't receive the scholarship you hoped would change your life. Every time you got a paycheck, you withdrew some of it and kept it aside. In the year since you started working, the saved amount wasn't big, but it was still significant to you and you were proud of yourself for keeping it and not spending the money like that little devil on your shoulder keeps suggesting sometimes.

But all of that was now gone, and all it took was a simple mistake of trusting the wrong person and all of your hopes and dreams came crashing down, taking your money with it. To save some money, you moved in with an old friend from high school, Jennie. What you didn't know, was that Jennie was also a pathological liar, who was in financial debt and to ease those debts, found the money you had kept hidden under your mattress (a dumb place to hide money, you know that) and stole it to pay off some of her debts.

Throwing Jennie out was not an option unfortunately, the apartment lease was under her name, so without much thought, you turned on your heel and marched right back out. Heading down the street, you had no idea where you were going. You made it two blocks from your home and nearly collided with a lamp post, when the sound of a bus horn somewhere behind you brought you back to reality. You hopped on the bus that stopped a few feet away from you and headed straight downtown to the Black Room, where you knew Steve would be working tonight.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

You must have fallen asleep at some point, because the next thing you knew, something was kicking at your feet.

''My, my... Look what the cat dragged in.''

You'd recognize that voice anywhere; deep, sometimes raspy from all the cigarettes he likes to smoke, or at least he used to. It's the voice you used to hear late at night, reading a book out loud when you couldn't sleep due to the thunder outside, or when that same voice used to whisper sweet nothings in your ear when you weren't feeling well. It's also the voice that, one day, in less than 12 hours, turned from sweet and caring to cold and distant.

Right, you forgot he worked here too.

You were laying on your side, feet hanging off the couch. You opened your eyes and the first thing you saw were pair of black jeans, ripped from the right knee and left thigh, one of his Converse clad foot was kicking your heels. A black Henley with the front tucked into his pants, the unforgettable handcuff belt on full display with the black leather more worn out than the last time you saw it, Eddie was looking down at you like a God above, the ceiling lamp above him casting a glow around his hair, still the same as it was in high school - at least some things never change.

''Edward.'' You pushed up from the couch, wincing at the tired muscles of your back. Steve was right, that couch was shit.

The use of his full name always used to irritate him, but if it bothered him now, he didn't show it. Instead, he clicked his tongue and took a few steps to his left and sat on the desk, his hands resting beside him, gripping the edge of the table. ''Whatcha doing here, sweetheart? Haven't seen you in years.''

''First of all, don't call me that,'' you sighed. ''Second, that's none of your business.''

Eddie smirked. ''You're at my place of work, it's kind of my business.''

''What time is it?'' you felt around for your phone, but didn't find it.

''Oh, it's uh...'' Eddie pulled a phone out of his back pocket, your phone. ''02:14 am.''

''Hey! Give me that,'' you held your palm up.

Eddie looked at your hand for a moment, before handing the phone back to you, the back of his knuckles grazing your palm. You swallowed down the spark you felt speed across your arm. The sleeves of his shirt were pulled up to his elbow, exposing tattoos you had never seen before as well as his toned arms. Doing a quick once over, you noticed his physique was fuller... everywhere. Does he work out? He was pretty tall and lanky back in high school, but now he looked like he had grown into his body; the jeans were hugging his thighs and his shoulders seemed more defined.

Clearing your throat, you asked, ''Why did you even have that? Is stealing your side hustle now?''

''It was laying on the floor, pardon me. Didn't want to step on it.''

''Fine. Thanks for not stepping on it, I guess,'' you mumbled, keeping your eyes trained on the bookshelf.

''Aren't you gonna ask me what I'm doing here?''

''Don't you work here?''

''Yeah, but not tonight.''

''Okay, I honestly don't care, so...''

''Oh, don't be like that. After all, I'm here to save you.''

You turned to look at him, and that turned Eddie's small smirk into a big Cheshire cat like grin. ''Save me?''

''Steve called me and told me about your predicament.''

Groaning, you threw your head back against the couch. ''God damn Steve.''

''Look, I know we have... history and everything, but I'm only here as a friend. Consider it an olive branch for how things ended back in high school.''

You gaped at him, your eyes bulging and your mouth hanging open. ''Wow. Okay. No, thank you.''

Eddie rolled his eyes. ''You have nowhere else to go.''

''Yes, I do,'' you lied, and very obviously so. You were never any good at it.

''Then why are you sleeping on this fucked up couch?''

Gritting your teeth, you rolled your eyes and looked away from him. Damn Steve and his loud mouth, you were going to hit him on the head. Eddie sighed and got up from the desk, coming closer and crouching next to the couch.

''The offer stands 'til the end of the week. You need a room and I need a roommate now that Steve's gone. I work here every Wednesday through Saturday and after that I usually sleep for two days to get ready for my next shift. We'll hardly ever see each other.''

''Tonight's Wednesday and you're not working.''

''I needed a personal day,'' he winked.

''You know, I've heard about your gigolo way of life.''

Eddie laughed, his eyes shining in the process. ''Gigolo?''

''You're a manwhore.''

Snorting, Eddie rested his hand on his palm, covering his mouth. ''Is that what Steve told you?''

''Are you denying it?'

''No,'' he mused, his voice muffled behind his fist.

''See, that's why I can't move in. I don't want to hear that every night.''

''You used to like hearing me moan in your ear.''

Eddie must have seen the hurt flash across your eyes, since he suddenly grew quiet himself.

His voice was lower now, more serious. What he said next, made you whip your head around and look at those big, chocolate brown eyes that you used to miss so much. ''I know you hate me, I understand that. Despite what happened back then, I still care about you. As a friend, of course. Yes, I sleep around and I am a man so the place is probably messier than you'd like, but I'm offering you a free place to stay. I know you don't have any money either, I'm good to cover us both for a while. Take it or leave it.''

''Why would you do this?'' you asked, looking deep into his eyes, like you were searching for his soul through them.

Sitting so close to him, your chest constricted at all the memories and what if's that have bombarded you throughout the years. Three years after you fled high school, never looking back, he still had a hold on you and you hated him for it. Hated the way he smelled exactly the same but new at the same time, the way he looked like he used to but more mature, the way you still felt your heart nearly burst out of your throat when he looked at you with those stupid brown eyes. You despised him, because after all this time, you still felt the same. If you do this, you had to keep your heart closed, lock it away and swallow the key. Eddie Munson broke your heart once, you won't let him do it again.

''Fine. I'll take it.''

#eddie munson imagine #eddie munson #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #modern!eddie #modern!eddie munson #roommate!eddie #roommate!eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fanfic #sebuckyverse #roommates

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chansbabygirlsstuff · 4 months

Text

Just a bet | Chapter 4

Paring:!badboyChanx!reader

Your POV

As I get out of the car, I can see the flashing colored lights that blind my sight as I wait for Chan to get out of the car I nervously stare at the people outside and inside the house, the sliding glass doors that let the visibility of everyone outside see what's going on inside.

"Are you ready?" he tells me next to some excited to get the party going "Yeah" I try to sound as excited as him.

We go inside the house, the atmosphere is hot, with bodies pressing along each other, dirty dancing on the floor, sloppy kisses in a corner, and alcohol by the door.

trying to squeeze through the crowd was a challenge as Chan took me to meet his friends, yeah, his friends, we'll see how that goes.

"what's up," Chan shouted trying to make a conversation with the boys over the loud music

"This is y/n everyone!" he presented me to his group of friends

everyone greeted you in a friendly way

"hey I'm Felix" he made his way to your hand in a friendly way "Hi Felix I'm Y/n"

"yeah we've heard of you," a boy with a cute smile said "Oh my name is I.N btw"

you bowed a little to greet him.

As everyone greeted you, you looked everywhere trying to get used to the ambiance around you

"Well, I'm going to get myself something to drink. do you want something?" he asked me shouting near my ear because of the loud music "Yeah sure," I said shyly as I felt him close to me he left me with his friends to enter the kitchen I felt the music get louder and people started jumping and dancing to the song, but I felt a grip my hip and sway me to the music and his hand guided lower to my leg centering in my lower body more and more so I turn around but encounter a random guy, the guy that was trying to dance with me!! my eyes widen and I slapped him in the face and left as I heard him scream "What the Fuck you bitch?" and run to the kitchen as I was passing by someone blew a cloud of smoke on my face, I coughed violently "What the fuck dude?!" I look back as he looks high as hell and smirks at me, I roll my eyes and look for Chan all over the big kitchen and see him leaning against a counter talking to a girl who is all over him touching his chest and almost putting her leg on top of him.

I stare at him but his eyes find mine and he straightens his pose trying to get to me, but I leave and try to find the door, I find Changbin grinding with a girl and getting in my way, Felix sees me and stops me "what happened where are you going?" he tells me with a concerned face "nothing I just need some air" I said trying to pass me but he stopped me again. "ok you can come to me and tell me if anything happens" he smiles to me reassuringly. I swear he is too nice to be with these shitholes.

As I get out of the place I call my sister but I don't get enough signal as I walk further away from the house, I kick a rock out of frustration and try to call my sister again but nothing, I hate my fucking life, as I'm walking downhill to get to the city and call cab I feel chill as is very cold outside and I didn't bring warm clothes.

I fucking hate that he lied to me, he said he was going to stay all night with me but no, he went with another chick to flirt or make out!, but why am I even bothered considering that I know his reputation from people who told me all around school?

I seriously need help and stop reading those fake ass books that only get me to illusion myself to think he was being nice to me for a reason... or two... but that's not the case, I need to learn that what goes through my mind is not real, only the books can have that delusion written all over it.

I also feel scared as that weird man touched me like that, it was so inappropriate and I feel disgusting because of it, doesn't he know what respect is? I feel so uncomfortable for letting myself go into an ambiance that I know is not my safe zone, I feel guilty as I felt someone touch my body that way even if I didn't want to, While in my thoughts my tears escape my eyes as I'm sobbing, how stupid am I?

I huff as the night gets colder and scarier as there is no source of light in this street, it gets creepier and alone but see a car turn and start following me behind, but the blinding lights of it don't let me see who it is, so I start walking faster, the creeps running through my spine and the hairs of my skin rise against my leather jacket. but the car reaches my steps and stands next to me as I see it roll down the window

"Why did you go?" oh... it's Christopher

"Nothing I'm fine, you can go back if you want" I do not look at him as I know my eyes must be red from crying and continue walking.

"no I promised you I would be with you" he continued the car at my pace

"well I didn't see anything of that happening" I walked faster as I didn't want to see him but his car followed next to me "I'm sorry okay?" he stopped the car and got out of it and ran to me

He grabs my shoulders as he stands right in front of me "Let's just get inside the car and talk about it yeah?" he tries to persuade me to get in the car, and I do.

"why'd you leave" he says as I try to put my seatbelt on

"well I didn't see you so I thought you left" I lie

"but you saw in the kitchen tho," he says the truth like an idiot

"yeah but I saw you were busy so I thought you wouldn't spend time with me at the party," I said looking down feeling like a child who is about to get scolded

"no love I promised you I would be there and yes I apologized because I left and talked to someone else, but my intention never was to leave you alone," he says looking at me but my head held low "But you did" I mumbled, he sighed "I'm sorry ok?" he expresses himself by putting his hand on my thigh and then on his chest "I promise to never do that again, that was very low of me" I looked at him while he looked at me, fucking butterflies why now, I feel the heat hit my ears and cheeks, I need to get a hold of myself

"but even when you saw you should've talked to me," he said starting the car once dating and driving, "yeah but either way I was uncomfortable," I said as I checked if my makeup was ruined on the car's mirror.

"why love did someone do something to you?" he said caringly

"Yeah, a guy... you know" I stopped as I felt my eyes get watery "he touched me inappropriately"

"He touched you" he exclaimed as he was surprised by my answer

"Yeah I was very scared," I said cleaning my tears

"Did you do something about it? you should have called me or one of the guys" he raises his voice in anger

"I'm sorry" I apologize and he changes his mood

"I'm not mad at you love, I'm mad at that bastard, he can't be treating ladies like you like that," he said looking at the road a bit mad "And don't cry ok? You're at least safe, you with me now" he smiles and caresses my shoulder, fucking butterflies again, am I that touched deprived or is he just too touchy to have talked a week ago?

"how about if we go do something you like?" he says and I nod

"what do you like to do at night" his sweet and caring smile looks at me as I look out the window of shyness

"I like to walk at night and eat some ice cream, I like quiet places" I express my liking to him as he pays attention to me

"ok so let us go to the park and eat some ice cream," he says enthusiastically

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hi my lovelies

Here is the 4th chapter sorry for being late I promise to post another one soon!

taglist: @stayceebs97 @foivestarrsketchez @salfetkablog

the tag list is open lovelies so plz comment if you want to be added

#bang chan fluff #bang chan smut #bang chan x reader #bang chan imagines #bang chan angst #chan smut #changbin smut #hyunjin smut #skz angst #skz smut

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lookismaddict · 1 year

Text

Lookism Chapter 437 Memes/Thoughts I Have:

(SPOILERS !!! I don’t own any of the Lookism panels and the translations. Only the memes that I made.)

Sorry guys, late once again because I had a test today. But damn… Jihan ambitious? 👀

DAAAAAAAAAMN, THAT’S RIGHT. GET BITCH SLAPPED!!!

TELL ME WHY THAT PANEL REMINDED ME OF THIS??? HAHAHAHAHAHA THEY HAD A WILL SMITH AND CHRIS ROCK MOMENT. 💀💀💀💀💀 I BET PTJ USED THIS SCENE AS A MODEL. BUT IF HE REALLY DID, THEN IMMA BE CRYING TEARS.

Damn. So, my question is... are they all brothers or something? And how are they even family related? Is he their uncle? Am I missing something here? 😭😭 Can one of y'all let me know who this Jichang mf is to them? *am confusion* (Update: I forgot "Hyungnim" is a term for older brother. My dumbass... ignore me. I haven't been watching k-dramas anymore so I forgot. My bad.)

OK MAN, LISTEN. LISTEN, LISTEN, LISTEN... I DO ADMIT. YOU ARE ATTRACTIVE. BUT IF YOU DO THAT TO JAY ONE MORE TIME, I SWEAR. IMMA-

This dude is thriving now, but when Jay pummels him... WHEEEEWWWWWWWWWW I CAN'T WAIT TO SIP OUTTA MY FANCY ASS WINE GLASS JUST TO SEE HIM ON THE GROUND.

YEEEESSSSSS JAYYYYY!!! ATTACK HIMMMM!!! BEAT HIM WITH SYSTEMA!!! 😤👏🏽👏🏽👏🏽👏🏽 Omg, I can't wait to see him use Kali Arnis. represent 🇵🇭

Oh, sorry. Those were my boobs, my bad. It caught you off guard tho, right? 👁👁

Um... B O I. Your picture would appear under the word "ignorant" because you have no idea who you're messing with. 💀💀💀 YOU'RE LITERALLY, FIGHTING WITH H GROUP CHAIRMAN'S SON. WDYM? You have no idea how much power this kid has, let alone his own PROWESS. 🤡 Also, if this boy Jihan doesn't stop wrecking Jay...

Get it? Since, Jay is already HARMED... then Jihan is about to catch these MF HANDS EITHER WAYYYYY!!!! 👊🏽👊🏽👊🏽👊🏽👊🏽👊🏽👊🏽👊🏽👊🏽

BRUH, I'LL END YOU! TF???

Oh great, it's the smartass twink again...

Has anyone noticed how big Mandeok's hair is? That it's even protruding out of the panel? PTJ you comedic genius...

Oh, wouldn't you like to know? Eugene...

Damon Goh's rubber duck must know some secrets. I bet it even knows the secret to the two bodies AND stuff about Charles Choi. You never know where it might have gone off to. Ooooouuu, it said, "I'm a detective." 😎 And I love how goofy Mandeok can be, even when he's unintentionally funny. Like, man's got the humor and all without him even knowing. (For instance, there's a panel in Ep. 373, which was the chapter when Daniel moves into the Workers' Casino and both Eugene & Mandeok welcome him. Then all of a sudden, Mandeok just grabs onto Daniel then physically shakes him upside-down because Eugene said it's for security purposes. 😂)

SO YOU'RE SAYING THAT THIS DILF IS ACTUALLY A FRIEND OF ALEXANDER SOPHIA'S???? OMGGGGG BRUH. YOU HAD NO IDEA HOW I SCREAMED WHEN EUGENE MENTIONED PARK JINCHEOL. HONESTLY, I LOVE THE PTJ UNIVERSE SM. CONNECTING ALL WORLDS INTO ONE LIKE THEY IN SOME MARVEL UNIVERSE. 😭😭😭

DON'T MIND ME SKIPPING THE PARTS WHEN JAY WAS GETTING BEATEN, BUT YEEEEEEEEEEEE BOIIIIIIIII. TIME TO GET WACKED!!!!! 😆😆😆

"To think you'd look for a woman late at night, Jay Hong." ... hmmm. That line really stuck with me. I've been rereading that over and over again to the point that I lost count. So... does Alexander Sophia know or had a feeling that Jay is...? 😳

AWWWWWW HELL YEAH, THERE'S AN UPGRADED VERSION OF ALEXANDER'S KALI ARNIS!!! THAT'S SO COOOOOOL!!! 🤩🤩🤩

YEEEEEEESSSSSSSS JAYYYYYYY!!! YOU DID ITTTT!!!! I love how Jay has such a big heart. Even though Jihan is an enemy, he still considers his health. He even knows his own POWER TOO AND WHAT HE'S CAPABLE OF. ALSO, HE ISN'T AS WEAK AS HE WAS BACK THEN. LIKE DAAAAAAAAMN JAY, YOU GOT SO STRONG!!! AM PROUD. 😩😩💖💖💖💖💖

GOD PTJ, DON'T MAKE ME CRY HERE. YK I AIN'T READY FOR A SOB FEST. 😭😭😭😭

I TOLD Y'ALL, IMMA BE SIPPIN ON MY WINE GLASS. GOT THAT ROSÉ IN HAND, EXTRA FRUITYYYY. 🤪

Yeah bro, it's some sexy pervy illiterate demonic Enemy of the State Japanese Yakuza mf named Jong Gun Park.

OH LOOK, THERE HE IS! HI BAE, I MISS YOUR PSYCHOTIC ASS!!! 😩😩🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤 DON'T MIND YOUR SON GETTING YEETED BY A 1ST GEN KING. HE'LL BE FIIIIINE... hopefully.

AHHHHHHH SHIIIIII. NOW IT'S DANIEL'S TURN FOR THE SPOTLIGHT. What if Hudson and Jay come to the rescue when Daniel is at his lowest while fighting Jichang? Well, that's one of my guesses on what'll happen in the future. But, I have faith in Daniel. I hope he'll knock Jichang down a peg, next chapter. Well, until next week! 👋🏽

God, I hate how I'm busy on Thursdays now. Almost every week, I be posting my reviews super late now. Smh me. Sorry guys. 😓

#lookism #lookism 437 #lookism webtoon #lookism manhwa #lookism spoiler #lookism spoilers #lookismaddict #lookism memes #lookism meme #jay hong #hong jaeyeol #kwak jihan #kwak jibeom #daniel park #park hyungseok #kwak jichang

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garoujo · 2 years

Text

・✶ ｡ﾟ[2:34am] — hanma shuji.

♱ warnings — smoking, me making shuji a little sappier than i normally would, the late night visits to the convenience stores that were truly yours.

“what’re you doing?”

you’re pouting up at yourself in the cctv of the convenience store just down the road from your home, when you watch shuji approach you, blonde and black locks falling softly over his face but you can still make him out on the fuzzy screen.

there’s traces of sleep lacing his features you notice and the fatigue is evident in the low rumble of his tone, but he still feels warm when his arms wrap around you from behind, resting his chin in the space between your shoulder and your neck—because it always fit perfectly, before he’s meeting your gaze in the monitor, and even in the dull lighting you can still make out a familiar glimmer in the glow of his amber eyes.

“shuji, i look tired.” you mutter and you watch him pull back to blink at you for a few seconds before his lips are stretching into a grin and he’s rolling his eyes. “yeah you do, baby. what the fuck.”

you watch shuji toss his head back to laugh when you playfully bat at his chest with a huff that’s followed by your own giggle, and even though you feel the ghost of a peck on your skin after—his gaze is still locked on your figure in the monitor.

because even at 2:34 AM in the convenience store somewhere in the city, your city—you still look so pretty when you’re caught between a smile and a laugh.

shit, he loves you—shuji thinks to himself when he stuffs his hands into the pockets of your jacket—his jacket thats draped over your figure, and he smiles, cheeky, because your hands were already outstretched as if waiting for his.

he rocks you both slightly on his heels and for a second—in the empty aisles of the convenience store, it really feels like the world is truly yours. you hear an exhale from over your shoulder before your world shifts and shuji leans forward to playfully bite you once on the cheek, and there’s a smile tugging at the corner of his lips when he pulls away to drag you along those same empty aisles because he still loves you.

“come on, doll. fuckin’ hell ‘ts cold, we gotta get home.” shuji sighs, taking off his glasses to rub at his eyes a few times before blinking lazily towards you, and he feels his shoulders relax when your arms reach forward to wrap around his bicep instead—nuzzling into his warmth like you’d truly found your space in the world and he softens before his lips curl into a grin, because he thinks that maybe he’s found his too.

you allow him to guide you around the aisles to grab what you came here for before you’re snapped from your daze when the cigarettes hit the counter. you blink, eyes focusing onto the snack that’s placed so carefully next to his stuff and you feel something in your chest warm—because he knows it’s your favourite.

“spoil you, don’t i.” he tuts, rolling his eyes before he’s reaching forward to pinch at your hips, and he really means to tell you it’s because he thinks you’re cute when you’re tired, but instead he finds himself shooting you a smirk that’s laced with something a little teasing. but even then you can’t help but smile back and shuji feels something in his chest jump, because fuck, you’re still pretty.

“‘ts dark tonight, shuji.” you sigh and you hear him hum before he rolls his eyes, again, and pulls you into his side while he opens up the packet of cigarettes. “you scared? you do know you’re with me, doll. somebody tries somethin’ i’ll kill ‘em.” he grunts, but his words are spoken in earnest.

hanma shuji was always a daunting presence, fearless and unpredictable— but he was also always a little more on guard, less careless, when you were with him.

“aren’t you scary.” you tease back because when he met you, you didn’t hesitate to treat him like he was just your shuji and he couldn’t help the drop in his guard when he was home, and maybe that’s one of the only things that’s ever scared him.

“i’m feared in this city for fucks sake, baby.” shuji laughs, a beautifully, unhinged sound.

before he shuffles to wrap his arm around your shoulders and when you stifle a yawn before melting into him—he smiles, one a little more lovesick that he tries to disguise by haphazardly resting a cigarette between his lips, until he looks at you again.

and he knows his space in the world, will always be with you.

#݁ . ࿓ : sealed#tokyo revengers x you #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo revengers fluff #tokyo rev fluff #tokyorev x reader #tokyorev fluff #hanma x reader #hanma fluff #hanma shuuji x reader #hanma shuuji fluff

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scintillafire · 2 years

Text

One-night Stand || C.BG

⚠️ warning(s): beomgyu x reader, rock star!gyu, one-night stand, passionate sex, nipple play, multiple orgasm, mild dirty talk

🗒: requested! 🤍

.・✥・゜・。.

To say that Bar 5:53 felt like entering heaven and hell at the same time was an understatement. Especially when you're bound to meet Choi Beomgyu for that one specific night.

They say a woman's desires were stronger than a man's. Well, you're about to find out the moment Beomgyu stepped in the same room where you were escorted to enter earlier.

No man ever made you feel so attracted, confused, and aroused. Beomgyu was different. A guy like him would make you drop on your knees the moment your gazes locked together. He had that type of charisma, he was too gorgeous and hot. His facial features and physique had a very strong sex appeal which made you gulp down hard when he smiled at you.. sexily.

"They said I'm up for room 313," He said, voice deep and husky. One hand holding the door open while the other was leaning on the doorframe.

You felt your legs mildly shaking when Beomgyu finally went in and closed the door. You could hear him turning the lock on and you felt your heart picking up its fastest pace as you tried to open your mouth to say something.

"Y-Yeah, me too." You stuttered slightly.

He faced you and started walking towards you, and those very few seconds gave you enough time to study him up and down. He had long black hair, a few piercings dangling on his ears, distinctive features, and a tall figure. What also caught your attention was the guitar case strapped on his back and so you concluded that he's probably a band member.

He had that naughty glint on his eyes as well, his smile turned lopsided as his gaze left yours and travelled down your smooth legs. You gave yourself an imaginary pat on the shoulder for choosing the right dress for this night.

"I'm Beomgyu," He said before he took your hand and placed a chaste kiss on it. That took your breathe away and damn, he chuckled before he stepped back and placed his guitar down on the couch. He casually walked around and poured two glasses of wine for the both of you.

The reason why you came to Bar 5:53 was that you're tired of your single life and that no man ever fit your standards, not even on the physical aspect. And so you were dragged by your friend here and she accidentally signed you in for one of the red rooms. The red rooms were the areas where actions could go wild. Your friend entered a red room as well and you're both supposed to stay in the nightclub area but since you both wanted to be reckless and wild and free tonight, you both decided to nail this time by losing your virginity. What a plan!

You awkwardly took the wine glass and took small sips while Beomgyu downed his drink in one go. You kept an eye on him as he examined the room that was filled with black curtains and red drapes and bed sheets. The entire room perfectly screamed arousal and your breath instantly hitched when he asked.

"So, how do you wanna do this?"

You're gonna get railed anyway so before your shyness could even come into surface, you hurriedly replied. "I'll go with anything you'd like."

Another smile crept on his face as he cocked an eyebrow. You looked away for a second as you finished your own drink, trying to keep yourself composed. He then took your empty glass and placed it back on the table together with his own glass.

He offered you his hand, as if starting to guide you along the way and you nervously looked at him as you placed your hand on his. He gave you a gentle smile before he pulled you closer and whispered to your ear, "Follow my lead."

Not even a split second later, you gasped out loud when he gently gripped your jaw and slammed his lips against your luscious ones. Your lips instantly parted for him as you're bit overwhelmed by the swiftness. But the pleasure quickly started to build the moment he plunged his tongue deep into your cavern, producing a sucking noise.

His hands came down to wrap around your waist as his fingers searched for the zipper at the back of your dress. You held onto him by placing your left hand on his neck while your right hand rested on his shoulder. He kept playing with his pace, at times he'd quickly bite your lower lip, at times he'd slowly pull away and just press his lips on yours.

You softly moaned now that you felt his tongue practically down your throat while he finally unzipped your dress, making it hang loosely on your shoulders. You yelped in surprise when he hoisted you up, gripping your thighs and brought you to the huge bed. He laid you down and quickly placed himself between your legs. His huge hands skimmed against your knees, travelling down as Beomgyu grinned, obviously loving how his hands glided smoothly on your skin.

He hovered down and clashed his lips against yours, you could feel him savoring the sweetness coming from your lip balm with the way he hummed in delight. His one hand was slowly undressing you while the other was bracketing beside your head.

"I tried to stop myself from asking but," He muttered in the middle of the kiss, his hot breath was fanning against your lips. "I couldn't help but be curious of why a hot and pretty girl like you is in here? Don't you have a boyfriend?"

You shook your head before saying, "Can't seem to find the right one."

Beomgyu nodded understandingly, "Same here."

Before you could speak again, he quickly kissed your lips and helped you take your dress off. He tossed it down on the floor before doing the initiative to take off your bra. Beomgyu's mouth watered at the sight of your upper half exposed. He leaned in once again and started sucking on your chest, swirling his lips deliciously around your nipple, making it a distraction while he slowly reached down to your panties where you're already soaking wet, pulling it off swiftly with one hand.

You felt the coldness hitting your bare skin and so you tried to press your legs together but Beomgyu kept them open by grasping your right thigh.

"Almost forgot, what's your name again?" Beomgyu somehow chuckled shyly, his long fingers already circling your wet entrance.

"Y/n." You whispered before your breathe hitched when Beomgyu leaned closer to your ear.

He inserted his finger inside you as he said, "Y/n." In a very husky way, causing for you to suddenly moan out loud. He then grinned, "What a pretty name."

He added another finger in your hole and slowly stretched you, making you whimper in pleasure. "You like that?" He asked.

You nodded in submission before he stretched you more, thrusting his fingers in and out repeatedly. You threw your head back when you felt his fingers curling inside you, teasing your spot messily.

"Beomgyu," You gasped at the feeling, knitting your eyebrows as he dipped down and sucked more on your nipples, alternating in every few seconds, leaving marks everywhere on your chest according to his desire. He thrusted his fingers at a fast pace while he continued to wrap his lips on your breast, grazing the sensitive bud with his teeth.

He was just starting but you already didn't last long as you came with his fingers abusing your sweet spot. You squirt strings of cum continuously while he pulled his fingers out, letting you cum more.

"Fuck," You breathe heavily, gathering your composure once again. Beomgyu pecked your lips before he stood up to find some lube and condom.

You watched him go around, mindlessly licking your lips when Beomgyu took his leather jacket off and placed it on the couch before he also discarded his shirt. He went back to you with the necessary things as he asked, "Now, do tell. You want it raw or not?"

"Raw." You replied.

Beomgyu stopped midway when he was about to open the packet, he then smirked suggestively. "Mhm, challenging."

Your composure quickly crumbled when Beomgyu unbuckled his belt and took the rest of his clothing off. His cock was already dripping with pre-cum while he uncapped the lube and poured some on his hard length. He gave it a few strokes, making sure it had the right amount of wetness so he can slide fast deep in you. He went back on top of you, winking at you before spreading your legs open.

You felt his tip teasing your hole and when he pushed in, you whimpered out loud while holding onto his biceps. He kissed your neck, sucking red blooms on your skin to at least alter the pain. As he did so, he pushed all the way in.

"Ahh, Beom.." You cried out when his hardness stretched you to the fullest, his body pressed against yours. You relaxed for a while, letting yourself adjust to his size.

He kissed you lazily before you finally gestured for him to move. He initially started rocking his hips in small thrusts, loving how you softly moaned in each move while he kept littering your skin with marks. Your body started to jolt when he gradually picked up his pace, his balls slamming against your ass as he pressed his pelvis against your heat.

"You're so fucking tight, Y/n." He groaned while grinding hard. You gripped the sheets at the impact, crumpling the fabric inside your fists. The bed started creaking when he thrusted faster and faster, his tip filling you inside and grazing your walls. He glided in perfectly and the skin slapping resonated the place every time he slammed into you.

You whined against his mouth, lip-locking and losing your sanity over the pleasure. Tears trickled down your face and that seemed to have aroused him even more, making him grind deeper by pulling out to tease your hole once again before thrusting all the way in.

"Fuck!!" You exclaimed as you threw your head against the pillows, back arching as you felt a knot started to pool in the pit of your stomach.

Beomgyu kept kissing you, making it turn sloppy and produce a squelching noise as you whimpered.

"So fucking sexy," He panted when he realized you started to sweat heavily along with him. Your hair now messy which he somehow find hot. Beomgyu grunted as he reached up to rake his dampened hair back before holding your right leg and hooking it up on his shoulder while he pinned your left leg to the mattress.

He fucked you passionately as he marked all over you, his free hand gripping your breast as he kept thrusting into your hole, sending you over the edge.

He kissed the corner of your parted lips when you spoke, "I'm close.." Your half-open eyes giving Beomgyu a sultry look as you felt light-headed due to the heavenly pleasure.

Beomgyu muttered curses and short compliments, saying how pretty you looked in daze as he kept on ramming his massive cock inside you, the tip of his cock twitching at how lewd your moans were, his pace became sloppy as he felt his own high coming.

"You feel so good, Y/n." He panted, barely wincing when you absent-mindedly dug your fingernails onto his back, scratching red lines against his skin when he thrusted faster again. His muscles flexing at this rate, keeping your leg up to his shoulder while the pain from your nails became a pleasure to him. His own lips parted as he gazed down at you, his eyes fierce and sharp.

"So fucking good," He added as he slowly dropped his weight on top of you. "Come for me, yeah?"

You whimpered at the huskiness of his voice, crying at how gentle his words were in contrast to how fast, hard, and harsh were his thrusts. His cock abusing your sweet spot repeatedly, making your walls turn sensitive and driving you crazy as the knot in your stomach was about to snap.

"Cum hard, pretty," He panted, chuckling sexily before dipping his head down and locking your lips with his tongue, nibbling yours while his hands remained on your leg and gripping your breast tighter.

"Ahh, fuck! Beomgyu.." You cried out his name as you finally came. Your teeth clashing with his as you engrossed yourself at the pleasure, letting him fuck you more through your orgasm, the walls of your hole were clenching around his throbbing cock, causing for Beomgyu to reach his own limit.

He came after you, cumming deep in your hole as he gave smaller pumps of his cock, pressing his tip on your entrance. Some of his semen flowed down your ass and Beomgyu sat up, stroking his length as he released more of his load on your entrance.

"You did well." He whispered when he slowly pulled out, putting your leg down and gently massaging your thighs. You gave him a soft smile as you replied, "You're amazing."

He grinned, laying down beside you before pecking your cheek. You both ignored the fact that this was a one-night stand and no strings were supposed to be attached, so you could both enjoy the remaining hours of the moment.

You both knew this was a one-time meeting. However, your heart swelled at the way Beomgyu's smile made a difference as he looked at you.

Up until today, you wondered how he had been. It's been weeks since you felt so free with a stranger. And now, here you were preparing to go to a concert so you could forget about him.

It was the same friend of yours who brought you to Bar 5:53, who'd also be bringing you to this rock band concert. You had told her about Beomgyu and now she felt bad, none of you expected you'd fall in love with the guy you met for that specific night. You wondered if he harboured the same feeling of sadness when you both had to part ways after.

You figured it wasn't healthy for your heart to yearn for someone who were probably just a passerby in your life. You gladly entered the stadium and stood with the other VIP fans, having the best spot in the area.

You sang your heart with the rest of the crowd in the concert. But your voice instantly clogged in your throat when you realized that one of the guitarists seemed familiar now that you opened your eyes to clearly examine the band's members. Your jaw dropped the moment this one guitarist gazed down at the crowd as he strummed on his guitar, smiling widely at how everyone sang along.

You remembered him carrying a guitar when you first met him in that room, and your heart beat loudly when you realized your guess was right, he was indeed a band member.

He was a rock star who produce music and indulge in these songs. So many fans crowding him but he decided to spend a night with you. Only you, and you know now when he spotted you in the crowd, his eyes widened a bit but he continued to sing. With now the lyrics meant only for you, it's his way to convey that among the many girls chasing him, he chose to chase you back.

Everything happened so fast and when you're about to leave the stadium with your friend, one of the concert guards handed you a note.

The note led you to Beomgyu waiting for you at the backstage.

"Hey," He smiled when he finally got to be close to you.

You're about to wave awkwardly but he stunned you by pulling you in a warm hug. Perhaps, that one-night stand had hidden strings attached.

"Beomgyu," You hugged him back, overwhelmed and mildly confused.

He pulled away and hurriedly kissed the side of your head, shyly avoiding your gaze while you remained frozen.

"Y/n," He softly said, biting his lips nervously as he asked you. "Let's talk, please?"

There you couldn't keep how much you yearned for his presence, and you were late to find out that your feelings were reciprocated by him.

.・✥・゜・。.

#beomgyu scenarios #choi beomgyu #txt beomgyu #beomgyu smut #beomgyu hard thoughts #beomgyu hard hours #txt scenarios #txt hard hours #txt hard thoughts #txt smut #beomgyu x reader

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nescaveckwriter · 4 months

Text

Smoky Old Barrooms, Saving Grace & Guitars - Chapter Two💕

A/N: Oh bugs, 💕 this is so much fun to write, I hope y'all enjoy this💕

Warnings: Drinking, angst, fluff, just it I think 🫣

Also Please Note: These songs used, is not written by me, so full credit to the artists.💕

''No way Bobby'' he sneered

''Dean listen to me, this is just what your career needs'' he pleaded

''Forget it! I'm the freaking superstar, I'm not gonna babysit a wannabe country singer''

His voice getting angry now, ''Listen to me son, you are not the 'Superstar' you think you are''

He smirks ''Oh yeah, then why is there hundreds of people at my shows?''

''Because they want to see, the old you, the one with songs from the soul, but all they get are covers, of drinking and shit, if you go-on like this, your going to end up, going from a great artist to who is that playing on the radio'' he hissed

Shocked by the words coming out of the mouth, who he presumed to be more than just a manager, more than just a friend, more like a father. He grabs his jacket and keys and storms out of the door, getting into his Chevy Impala .

''Another whisky on the rocks, please doll'' the little giddy woman, makes her way towards the bar, grabbing his fifth glass. Glancing through the smoky barroom, its a place where most famous artist's hang out, to relax or get drunk or get lucky, but its a nice joint, nice music always playing. He knows Bobby is right but by hearing it just made him so angry, hell he already feels old and washed up, it's as-if the great music is no where to be found inside of him, in all honesty, most days his caught between living and leaving.

''There you go, sir'' she smiles interrupting his deep thinking , ''Yeah thanks'' smiling as he sees her number written down on a napkin, ''maybe I'll call her up a little later'' he mumbles to himself. As his sipping his liquid gold, he hears a sweet deep-laced southern voice, he look's up towards the stage, bell bottom blue jeans, a black shirt, with a black leather jacket, her strawberry blonde in those loose curls framing her delicate face.

''Howdy y'all, so sweet Jerry over there asked me to do a little song or two, and I were wondering, what y'all wanted to hear, are we feeling happy? or in the mood for a bit of blues perhaps?''

The whole crowd goes wild cheering, screaming they wanted to hear a heartbreak song She just smiled and started strumming her guitar, tapping her boots on the barstool, her voice sounded angelic and full of emotion, the room silenced as they listened to her

It's just a year today

One year since he went away

So happy birthday, dear heartache

You're one year old today

There'll be the cake tonight

One candle I'm gonna light

So happy birthday, dear heartache

Old love still burns tonight

When he walked out, I felt my heart break

That's when you came to me, dear heartache

You made my heart your home

Now look how big you've grown

Looks like each guest is here

The blues, the memories, and the tears

So happy birthday, dear heartache

Same time, same place next year

So happy birthday, dear heartache

Same time, same place next year

As her voice glides over the audience, Dean can't help but think that women, can sing, not only is she beautiful but she's different than the other, there's something unique about her presence, he smiled as she finished the song, also clapping when she said ''thank you, y'all''

He gets caught off guard as she spoke pointing towards him ''Look y'all, Nashville's very own, top charting country-rock artist, 'hey Mr. Winchester, want to join me up here for a little song, what do you say?''

He nods, gets off his chair, thankful that he'd only had five glasses, and that his still sober enough for this little event, tilting his imaginary hat, as he greets her, whispering ''so you know who I am, but what's your name'' she just smiled and said ''you can call me Grace, cowboy''

After they discussed which song too play, they both a slight nervous wondering if there voices, together will work, his deep voice starts,

''Once I made a promise

That I'd never lead you on

But I feel the yearn to love you

Even though I know it's wrong''

her angelic voice fills the next lines

''You'll have to take my hand

And lead me slowly through the door

I'll be wrong in what I'm doin'

I can't refuse you anymore''

but it's when there voices collide, leaving the people in the barroom stunned

''Lead me on

And take control of how I feel

I can't do this on my own

'Cause it's against my will

I need love warm and tender

In a way, I've never known

If you want me, I'll go with you

But you'll have to lead me on''

Both off them smile while singing the familiar country song, there eyes connect in the way you only see in movies, there voices together sounds like a symphony of wonder, letting you believe in magic of true country music again, leaving the two artists stunned, about how well they fit together. When the song was done, and the crowd cheered, hand claps everywhere, it wasn't long after, when the people started begging for more off there songs, but it was Grace that said ''thank y'all but I have to go now'' thanking Dean and the crowd she got off, slinging her guitar over her thin-framed shoulders, she walked outside, inhaling the fresh air, so she can stop the uneasy rising and falling off her chest.

Still waiting for a cab to come pick her up, to go home, and get some rest, she hears his voice behind her ''going so soon?''

Smiling, and calming her racing heart a little, thinking if only her heart were racing, because of this hunk of a man in front of her, it would've felt good, ''Hey, yeah, I've got a early morning photo shoot, for the cover of my album, and if I'm late my manager is going to be crazy angry'' she laughed a little

Running his hand at the back of his neck ''Oh! so your a well known artist yourself, sorry I didn't know''

Laughter rolling over her lips, ''don't you worry cowboy, my ego aren't as big yours, I don't get easily offended'' she mocks

Laughter fills the airy night, as he's amused by the way she mocks him, without holding back, as most women around him always tries to say something that will soothe his ego. ''I don't have a big ego''

''Now I know, I don't personally know you too well, but one thing's for sure your lying to yourself there. the smile curving at her full lips, is enough to make his heart flutter a little

His green eyes, sparkling, for the first time in a long time, ''We can always make a plan to arrange, so that you can get too know me better'' he mocks

The cab pulls up, and as she gets in, she smiles, her voice sweet and fruity ''Now don't you go falling in love with me cowboy''

He can't help the slight dorky smile forming, ''who's gotten the ego now, thinking I'll fall for a woman like you'' shaking his head, as-if she's my type anyway, but something in his chest, flutters as he sees her hand dancing through the wind, as the streetlight shines on her face, giving her a slight -reddish halo, her voice giving him a exhilarating as she shouts ''goodnight cowboy''

His response was too late, as the cab drove off, leaving him standing there, feeling intrigued by this woman. Taking out his phone, dialing Bobby, leaving only his voicemail tone ''Hey, Bobby, I don't know who you wanted to set me up with, but I just met someone, I want to sing with her, help me find her please, and sorry about earlier.

As he walked over to his car, he can't help too feel a bit more alive, tonight as his done in awhile, he needs to find her again, like he needs air too breathe, singing that duet with her, was absolutely amazing, letting him almost feel about music the way he used too before everything gone wrong, leaving him only half a person. With a smile he gets in, there's a stirring of some new words in his heart, maybe a potential song or two, with the humming of a new tune, he drives into the night.

Chapter One Here :)

Chapter Two Here :)

Chapter Three Here :)

#Spotify #spotify #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #jared padalecki #jensen ackles x reader #sam and dean #dean winchester imagine #old barrooms saving grace & guitars #nescveckwriter

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littlemissheavenonearth · 30 days

Text

The Dancer and The Rockstar Part 7 (Joe Elliott x Reader)

a/n: this is part 7 and after this there will probably be 3 more <3 I hope y'all enjoy!

[Y/N POV]

That was Def Leppard’s High N’ Dry tour. The entire tour was a dream, I’m sure that everybody dreams of going on tour with a band, yeah? They boys played Mirror, Mirror every night after the show in London.

Well anyway, guess what, I fell in love with my childhood best friend about a year ago and he fell in love with me too. We confessed to each other that night in the bar and we have been dating since then.

When we went back to Sheffield, we went back to the dance studio. Just like old times. I’d dance and Joe would sing and play guitar like he used too. I even did choreography for Mirror, Mirror. Lia helped of course, I’m not skilled enough to choreograph my own dance.

Other than that, the boy began writing songs for their upcoming album, Pyromania. They had thought of other names too, but Pyromania was one of the more

serious ones. Some of the songs they’d written for this album were, Stagefright, Foolin’, Photograph, Rock Of Ages, etc. They have so many amazing songs, I still wonder how they do it.

It took forever to figure out the lyrics for Rock Of Ages, but they did eventually after figuring out the instruments parts. At the end it was worth all that struggle to figure out the lyrics. The boys eventually asked me to be in their music videos for a few of the songs.

For two years, this is what we did. We spent time in the studio, we filmed music videos, but we also went on trips together. We went to America. I was really excited to go ‘cause I had never been and the boys told me that it was beautiful, when they went. I’d always wanted to go, ever since I was little ya know, to see the big open spaces and the big skies.

In 1982, we went to Los Angeles to visit the Sunset Strip. I cannot emphasize enough how beautiful the street was. We saw all of these young rockstars running along the street, eager to set forth on their rock n’ roll journey.

I held Joe’s hand as we entered the Rainbow Bar And Grill to eat some dinner. It was a small place with red leather seats and tables. There wasn’t much light, there was a small chandelier hanging from the ceiling and some colorful fairy lights, but still it had a dark feel to it. The place was full of people, the great majority of them were drinking, doing drugs, or trying to please a girl and even though it concerned me quite a bit, what seemed to stick with me the most was that these people, they seemed genuinely happy with how they were living their lives. They were enjoying themselves like they had wanted to when they were kids.

There wasn’t a place you could turn your head and not see people. Their energetic demeanor was contagious, I was definitely feeling like doing something stupid.

Joe definitely noticed my mood and guided me to the bar counter.

“Could we get a few shots of Vodka?” He smirked. I just nodded in agreement.

The bartender gave us a few shots and Joe turned to me with the little glass cup in his hand, “are you ready to get mad drunk?”

A smile grew on my face, I’d never gotten drunk before, but it’s never too late to try new things.

Joe took the first shot and motioned for me to take the next one. I nodded, grabbed a cup and brought it up to my face.

He could tell I was a bit nervous, “go on then,” he chuckled.

And so I did, I shot the Vodka down and then I took a deep breath.

“How was that, love?”

“That was,” I grinned, “that was certainly something.”

“D'ya like it?”

“Hell yeah!” I grabbed another cup and drank it and then another, and then another.

“Alright, alright, slow down, beautiful.”

“Sorry, was that too much?”

“Nah, I just hadn’t seen you act like this before, but you look gorgeous doing it.” He winked and heat rose to my cheeks as he said those words. I got closer to him and wrapped my arms around his neck. I was already starting to feel a bit of the alcohol kick in now, “kiss me, rockstar.”

His arms snaked around my waist as he leaned down to press his lips to mine. It seemed like our lips fit perfectly together and they moved so in sync, it was incredible.

“Woah, get a room, you two.” Said Pete. I vaguely remember Joe and I giggling like two teenage girls at some celebrity magazine.

Living the rockstar life is definitely something to experience, it’s nothing but a good time all the time, until it’s not, if ya know what I mean.

In early 1983, the band was getting ready to record their Pyromania album, but there was some issue with Pete and they kicked him out of the band. They got a new guitarist, Phil Collen, a boy from London. He was originally in the band, Girl, but he left when he was asked to join Leppard. The lead singer of that band went to LA, to sing for the band, LA Guns.

Anyway, after that situation, the boys finally recorded the album and even fixed some of the songs. The boys were getting ready to embark on their Pyromania tour that was starting in Milan, Italy.

I wasn’t going because I wanted to spend some time dancing again.

“Y/N?” Joe asked me. As we were taking a walk in London near Downton Abbey.

“Yes, babe?”

“I’ve been wanting to ask you something.”

“Sure.”

He breathed, “..ok..um,” everybody else was watching.

“Don’t be afraid, love,”

“Ok,” he looked so nervous, but then he got down on his knees and opened the ring box. I put my hands over my mouth.

“Y/N, would you make me the happiest guy on earth and marry me?” I nodded aggressively because I was too shocked to speak. A sweet smile grew on his face as he stood up to put the ring on my finger. I had tears in my eyes as we embraced.

“I love you, y/n/n.”

“I love you too, Joe.” Cheers from the rest of the boys arose in the background.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Taglist:

@elliotts-personal-property @joes-sha-la-la-la-girl @terrortwinsfav @stevesfuzzypinkslippers @genxrocker @i-love-def-leppardhostaccount @jimmysdragonsuit13 @ni-hao-kitty @steveinscarlet @stardust-bitch @ride-the-hammett @nenynra @bludgeon-riffola @lil-melody-moon @rickallensbarefeet @switch-6-2-5 @discothequechaser @armageddonviv @wasted-my-time @the80srewinders @moon-fashioned @alexaelliott @defsteria @leppardcampbelllove @whitelightningstrikes @appetite4savage @make-me-your-animal

*side note: if you have any ideas of the plot that you wanna see, just dm me <3

#the dancer and the rockstar #part 7 #rocky's writing #joe elliott fanfiction #joe elliott fanfic #joe elliott x reader

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arcanemoxhi · 2 years

Text

✨Rock Singer! Vi x Assistant!Fem Reader

Modern//Head cannons 🖤❤️

MDNI!! OR ILL STEAL UR TOES [you can read the sfw]

A/N: I had to put this out there bc of that one fanart of Vi with the guitar IF YOU KNOW YOU KNOW

Warning!!; Rough sex, naughty nicknames, Dom!Vi, modern!vi, sub!reader, cucking, not a false limp- a real one, curse words, office work (sorta), possessive Vi, praises

You were hired to become Vi's assistant by The Firelight Agency. To your knowledge, you know that Vi has lost a lot of assistants because of how rowdy she can be or how she can cause a racket around paparazzi. Her reputation has jumped up and down and caused her assistants to the point of quitting. It's been 3 to 4 years and you haven't quit yet. So many of your coworkers and friends wonder how the hell you stayed with the most wildest rock singer there is.

You tell them, "It just works out."

NSFW!!! ✨

"V-Vi!! God damn!!" As she plows you from the back rough in her studio

Vi has a REAL ONE, if you understand what I mean

"You're doing so good for me, damn your so fucking hawt for me. Yeah, you like that, my slutty assistant? Ahh fuck"

The only thing that was keeping Vi tame was you. She fell in love with you and even fell in love with your patience with her. She never liked asking for help, but when you sticked around with her the most, she was set on having you all to herself. Vi has pledged herself to you. She got to know you a bit more and found out you were married. It made her even more desperate for you. A little drama in the media would be fucking interesting to her, especially with her sexy assistant.

After Vi takes a shower after a show, she walks out in her tank top and tight black boxers and takes herself to the studio where she knows you are at.

You are nose deep into some paperwork at your desk. You are wearing a black pencil skirt and a light blue button up. You knew how to dress and that's what also made Vi excited to have you.

Vi towers over you and gives you kisses on your cheek and shoulders. You tried to deny it, because you're a married woman, but you haven't felt such love and tension in so long.

Vi praises you for all your hard work and rewards you accordingly, by eating you out sloppy on her studio couch.

"Make a mess on my fucking couch, baby. I want people to come in and wonder who made that mess. To see your fucking red face in embarrassment, because I can care for you better than your fucking fiance. Mmm~"

Think of that scene when she's eating that bowl of food at Jericho's loud and FUCKING wild with juices falling down her chin

She adores you moaning wild and begging for her to not stop.

Once she made you orgasm and she's satisfied, you will have her in full.

"Look at how hard you got me. You're gonna take in this cock so fucking good. Yeah, look at you begging for this cock. Aww so cock hungry, that fiance of yours left you hanging like this. Oh no no, lemme help you with that darling."

Her favorite positions to have you in; doggy, full nelson, cowgirl

For the times she wants to be intimate which is 85% of the time, she holds you in a missionary or you against the wall as she stares into you and gives u hickeys and sloppy kisses

She wants you to plead for her and when you do, you get everything you want her to do. She treats you like a queen and gives in to you.

"Ohh, my baby's gonna cum?? Huh?? Aww baby, I love it when you are my good girl~ That's right, come from this cock."

After she lets you cum, she whispers, "My good slutty assistant~"

Don't fret, this isn't the ONLY place she has you begging for her.

When she's alone in the recording studio reading over her lyrics, she has you going down on her. Whether the scenario was that you wanted to tease her while she was trying to focus, or she asked you to.

"Focus on me, baby. You're doing so good, shh shh. I think someone's coming over. No one can see you, I promise."

She has you after a meeting. In those meeting rooms with the glass windows that you can see through. She has you on her lap, with her deep inside you.

When the team leaves and doesn't question why you are on her lap, which is highly unprofessional and could get you fired but it doesn't matter because of Vi's word to the agency to keep you, no matter what

"they left.. final-fucking-ly... ohh, my baby desperate, already bouncing on me. Ohhh, fuck baby girl. Slowly now, there's people still walking around. Now, let me sign these papers, and I'll take care of you... Just be patient, princess~"

She fucks you in her tour bus. She bounces you, as you face the window behind her so you can see the cars pass by as she destroys your lower half. The good thing is that no one can see in the bus at night time, but the thought that someone could gets Vi going.

"Ohhh, ohh, fuck baby. So good, that's right moan for me babygirl. Oohh you're voice is so good and loud. Damn, let the world know baby, how much you crave this cock. You're doing a such a good job. Mm, wanted to take care of me that badly, huh?"

She lays you on your back so she can look at you begging and moaning for her. She took care of you and even like to challenge you sometimes, when you had to take calls for work, as she slow pounded you to oblivion.

"Y-Yes, I-I have everyTHING accounted for. S-Shes in the bus and on-on our way to the ar-arena." You bite your lip to prevent you from moaning to your superiors, but Vi loved that you could take a challenge.

"Uhm, if that's it, then you're free to go. Are you sure you're alright?"

SFW!! {✨Bonus✨}

*Drama added*

After each pounding Vi gives you, she showers u in kisses and cleans you up before you head home.

"I love you, (Y/N). To me, you're more than just my assistant. You're my girlfriend, my wife and my life. I don't write love songs, but I would be committed to write one about you." Vi hums as she carries you to the kitchen for some water.

Sometimes, you stay over her penthouse apartment and cuddle her on her bed.

As you cuddle in her strong arms, your phone rings and it's your fiance. You kinda already fell asleep, so you don't pick up, but Vi does.

"Hey, babe. Are you on the way home? I'm just a little concerned you haven't come home at your usual hours, just be honest."

"Be honest, huh? Well, your wife is sleeping with me. You leave this poor girl all alone almost every night, I thought it would be right to take care of her because you can't bring yourself to pleasure her."

Vi trash mouths him and hangs up on him before you get to wake up. "Who was that, Vi?"

"Go back to sleep, it was just my manager." She holds you at the waist and wraps you in her expensive cotton blanket.

On other nights, Vi takes you out to the most beautiful spots for dinner. It's an hotspot with not a lot of paparazzi.

Vi orders for you both and pays for it, even when you try to tip, she stops it. As you two waits for the food and drinks, she rubs the back of your (sk/c) hands. She kisses them as she stares into your (e/c) eyes.

Vi pulls out a small box and places it on the table. She grabs ur hand, taking off your engagement ring and actively throws your ring off the balcony dinner spot.

You gasps a little in shock, "Vi? What was that for-- Wha-What's this?"

"I want you for the rest of my life. I never felt love like this ever and you just complete me. Please be a part of my life journey. I love you so much, please marry me." Vi puts on her new ring on your hand. You nod excited. She lifts you up and gives you a deep kiss. Your fiancee, well now ex fiancee, could never take care of be as gentle like Vi. Best job of your life.

A/n: I had to get this out of my mind after that fanart pic. Alright I'm halfway done the royal one 🤧💕 aight love you bye bye

#arcane vi #vi x reader #arcane x reader smut #vi x y/n #arcane #vi smut #vi x you

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madamebaggio · 6 months

Text

Notes: This isn't related to any of my previous snippets. It's just something short and sweet.

***

Robb cleared his throat as he held the mic in front of his mouth. “Good evening, everyone. I’m Robb, the best-man and the bride’s brother.”

“Hi, Robb!” Many voices called back, and someone wolf whistled -probably Theon.

“Sansa was the first of many -many- younger siblings I’d get eventually, and she was a cute baby, even though the patch of red hair made her look a bit like a tomato.” Laughter all around. “She was also a bit annoying as a teenager, but at least she wasn’t setting the house on fire like Arya. But the one thing that Sansa has always been is immensely kind and loyal.”

He turned his eyes to his sister. “I feel that -at times- we didn’t appreciate it as much as we should’ve, and we took her for granted, but Sansa is a rock.” He was looking directly at her as he said that. “She only became stronger with time, and now she’s this beautiful bride and I couldn’t feel prouder of her.”

Sansa had tears in her eyes as she looked at her brother.

“Now, that fucker…” Robb turned to the groom, making the whole room explode in laughter.

“ROBB STARK! Language!” Cat screeched at her son.

“I met Arthur in University, where we became friends almost immediately.” Robb raised his glass to Arthur, who repeated the gesture. “And the first time I invited him to our house for Easter, he took a look at Sansa and said: ‘We’re going to be brothers’. And I asked him ‘why?’ to which he replied: ‘because I’m going to marry your sister’.”

Laughter all around again, because they all knew that Arthur would’ve definitely said something like that. “And I said: ‘it’s never going to happen, because my sister is way too smart to fall for you’.” Robb gave Sansa a flat look that made her explode in giggles. “And you know what? She is smart. Smart enough to see how good he was. To look beyond his reputation, and see the great guy he actually was. So yeah, Sansa is still smart as hell. And I guess you were right, Arthur: we’re brothers now.”

Arthur covered his mouth with his fist, while Sansa rested her head on his shoulder.

“I’m happy that we got here.” Robb told the others. “That Sansa found someone that knows how amazing she is, and that Arthur is with someone that knows he is great. As much as it pained me as a big brother seeing those two flirting all the time before they finally decided to get together, I couldn’t imagine two people more perfect for each other: you’re both smart, kind and hard working.”

“And hot!” Arthur called from his place.

Robb rolled his eyes as people laughed again. “Welcome to the family, Arthur. We’re really happy to have you here.” He narrowed his eyes. “But we’ll still fucking kill you if you hurt her.”

“ROBB!”

Applauses all around, and Robb could finally get drunk and party (and hopefully sleep with the maid of honor).

#madame baggio #crackship #crossover #gifs not mine #crossover pairings #snippet #au #game of thrones #king arthur legend of the sword #sansa stark #robb stark #arthur pendragon #sansa x arthur

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fullofgutsndopamine · 2 months

Text

Feels So Nice (Smile like you’re hiding something)

TW: cursing, mention of fake blood, halloween decorations

this is a halloween fic im very aware it’s april

“this place looks pretty haunted.”

you peak at your side and see your little sister, dressed in an old bedsheet with crooked eyes for a ghost.

you pull the sheet back, constantly falling in her face, before you adjust it, crouching onto the hard cement.

the holes in your jeans are met with the wet cement and you’re thinking how you have to wear these stupid jeans to work tomorrow but your sister insisted you dressed up and how could you say no to those eyes?

“Cass,” You say gently, “i’d never let anything bad happen to you.”

she looks unconvinced, biting her lip and shifting her weight from one foot to the other to see over your head, where the thing that’s stressing her out stands in the mouth of their garage, handing out candy.

even a few houses down you can hear the ominous music that plays loudly from a hidden speaker some sort of circus music that cuts off every few minutes with a maniacal laugh and a chainsaw revving up.

the homeowner also changed every light on their front yard to a dark blood red floodlight, fog pours out of the garage and floats around the edge of the grass inviting you to come in, to take your chances, to see what happens.

“Honey,” you bring her back quietly, “we don’t have to go. We can go to the Anderson’s-“

Cassie huffs, “No that house is for babies!”

you hold in the sigh that’s threatening to escape from your lips, instead: “That use to be your favorite house.”

“Yeah,” she rolls her eyes through the sheet, “when i was seven. i’m older now-i’m not a baby.”

you swallow down the part of you that wants to remind her that she slept in your twin size bed last night because she thought she heard a noise and her head immediately went to a ghost.

“let’s go.”

she takes a step before freezing, offering her hand:

“i can hold your hand,” she says instead, “if you’re scared.”

finally, there’s the kid sister of yours you remember.

“Good,” you say and your voice is only slightly dripping with sarcasm, “I was scared.”

it’s a short walk to the house in question, but the winding driveway makes it seem bigger. thr wrap around porch doesn’t help instead.

as you get closer, you see him.

you know of him, of course. fucking everyone does-

he’s a small town hero (or menace, depending on who you ask) talked about in low whispers when you pay your overdue water bill at town hall with a. check that bounces only 40% of the time.

cindy, the clerk, will take the check, typing on the computer slowly as she gives you the tea. you’ve never been infested in the meetings, but you can hear the noise form inside even if the doors are shut.

“that’s hasan,” cindy will roll her eyes. “he hates this town.” shell slide the receipt back to you, “think half his fun is raising hell at board meetings though.”

He sits in a rocking chair, slowly slowly slowly rocking back and forth, a large box of kind sized candy bars on his lap, a smirk on his face. he wears large rimmed glasses and he’s smiling as you approach, using his knuckles to push his glasses up his face.

as you get closer, cass slides next to your body, making you run into her with every step. by the time you get to the porch, ready for the magic sentence, she’s fully behind your leg.

“Sorry-“ you apologize and you aren’t sure why you’re apologizing, it just seems like you should be

instead of seeming irritated, or rolling his eyes at you, or talking about the line that will eventually form now that news is getting out about the full size candy he instead sets the bowl on the ground, slides off the chair and crouches on the floor, as if trying to make himself smaller.

“My names Hasan,” he says gently, “what’s your name?”

right on cue the chainsaws rev up and he rolls his eyes, fumbles for his phone and pauses the music, holds his hands up like it’s a magic trick:

“Sorry. see,” he says gently, “it’s just music.”

her head pops out from behind your leg but her tiny fingernails dig into your legs and you know she isn’t full convinced.

her eyes are full on him and it’s like he suddenly remembers the wife beater he wears, the fake blood that covers his shirt and even his glasses-

he takes his glasses off, the world is blurry:

“This is fake too,” he says gently, “feel it. It’s sticky. it’s corn syrup.”

you’re about to insist he doesn’t have to do all this, when she hesitantly pops out from your leg, her hand going towards his glasses

he giggles as she swiped her finger on the lens:

“see,” he laughs, “it’ll dye your finger red. it’s all fake.”

he takes some and swipes it on her face, some that was revealed from the sheet falling again and suddenly she’s laughing.

“thatta girl,” he coos, “here.”

he turns around and hands her the box that she gasps at and slowly picks at.

his eyes pop to you and his face is pink, even with the lights on and the fake blood you can see he’s embarrassed

“sorry uh,” he scratches the back of his head as if he’s embarrassed now. standing at his full height, he towers over you and seeing him being embarrassed makes you smile harder, “didn’t think uh-the blood was that good.”

you snort, “for an eight year old? terrifying.”

he laughs back, “Yeah. i guess i didn’t account for kids.”

“halloween and kids,” you tease, “who would’ve thought?”

he laughs, but it’s small and he stares at his feet,

“sorry for uh-“ he shrugs, “all of that. Can i try again?”

you’re confused, but nod and his hand pops out in front of him, “It’s nice to meet you, my names Hasan. I’m your neighbor.”

cassie comes back into your side, a bag of m&ms in her fist.

you laugh, offer your hand and name back: “it’s nice to meet you, finally. you’re well known around here.”

he grips the metal bowl of candy, “hope it’s good.”

and he seems genuinely worried that you heard bad about him, heard the reputation, heard to stay away.

you don’t know this, you don’t know the parts that sit in the cul de sac with the engine running, his voice low and cracks as he reveals all about him, the fucked up parts too

“depends who you ask.”

and you think it’s a good enough answer, think it’s mysterious enough, but he seems worried by the answer.

“lemme make it up to you?” he says gently, “for scaring your kid. i owe you, right?”

“hasan,” you laugh as kids are giggling and running up behind you, “it’s halloween-“

“give me one try.”

you stare at him, the fake blood that drops, how he makes himself smaller, tried to make it less scary for her-

“okay,” you say gently, “okay. yeah. one chance.”

a smile spreads on his lips, “you won’t regret it.”

cassie pulls at your hand, and a new group of kids pile around hasan and you’re saying your goodbyes-

it isn’t until your three houses down that you realize you don’t have his number.

#caroline writes #hasan #hasanabi #hasanabi x reader #hasanabi x y/n #hasanabi x you #hasan piker fic #hasan piker ff #hasan piker fanfic #hasan piker fanfiction #hasan piker imagine #hasan piker x you #hasan piker x y/n #hasan piker x reader #hasan piker

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sanctum-of-ramshackle · 2 years

Note

You know, there's something that's been on my mind lately. What if Yuu was like Dexter Morgan from "Dexter"?

[OOC]: Hi! Writer here. Yeah…MC/Yuu being like Dexter Morgan sounds like an interesting concept. I mean the show itself is extremely mature with both homicidal and…other elements.

Let’s just focus on the murder! Wow. That sounds terrible out of context…

So about MC/Yuu being like Dexter Morgan, that’s gonna raise suspicions around NRC as almost everyone in the magical academy is guilty of something. Though I’m sure MC/Yuu Morgan may understand these students and friends of theirs are just acting like how normal teenagers behave.

Except I’m thinking whenever they defeat an Overblot battle and learn how the Dorm Leaders were the way they are, there’s gonna be blood shed.

[WARNING: GRAPHIC DESCRIPTIONS. DNI IF YOU’RE UNDER 18!]

[I REPEAT! DNI IF YOU’RE UNDER 18 OR SO HELP ME YOU’LL BE DISGUSTED FROM WHAT I WRITTEN DOWN BELOW!]

MC/Yuu Morgan is meticulous when it comes to deposing human bodies and there is a lot of victims on their list of people who harmed their friends.

I don’t think I can write everything as there’s obstacles like Royal guards, high magical security and so on, but I can give an example to how MC/Yuu Morgan does their duty.

[Example: Dr. Rosehearts a.k.a. Riddle’s Mother from HELL]

(I hate her so much because she’s a prime example of the Authoritarian Parenting style.)

If MC/Yuu were able to travel to the Queendom of Roses, they need to be equipped with whatever sharp instruments they can find and supplies for keeping blood stains off of surfaces.

Also finding drugs to incapacitate their first victim in another strange world, Mama Rosehearts from the darkest corner of the Underworld.

They would sneak inside the Rosehearts Residence and if she’s still awake, they’ll quickly inject her with a syringe with the drugs from earlier.

Next cover the kitchen area in plastic, set up the surgical tools and other handy equipments to butcher the remains.

Also the laboratory glass sheets for collecting biological samples. (Blood samples, to be exact.)

Then they strip and tie the body down on the kitchen table.

Dr. Rosehearts: *Wakes up perplexed* Hm?

MC/Yuu Morgan: *In a monotone voice* Oh look. You’re finally awake. *Pulls out their scalpel*

Dr. Rosehearts: *Gagged with tape sealed on her lips shut* What is the meaning of this?!!

MC/Yuu Morgan: Do you know why you’re stuck like this? *Cuts her cheek as it bleeds*

Dr. Rosehearts: *Winces*

MC/Yuu Morgan: *Takes the blood sample as their reminder* You forced your son to be in misery. You took away what every child deserves. A childhood. A happier, safe kind. I have murdered plenty of those kinds of people back home. *Holds their scalpel against her neck* I hope your choices are what is best for you, not him. *Pulls their tool away*

Dr. Rosehearts: *Sighs in relief*

MC/Yuu Morgan: *Pulls out a huge cleaver*

Dr. Rosehearts: *Muffled screams*

MC/Yuu Morgan: Shhh…It’ll be over soon. Or now. *Swings the cleaver down and chops right in the neck*

[The head and the body are severed, pools of blood spills off the table and on the floor shielded with plastic. With 10 seconds of remaining consciousness, Dr. Rosehearts can only see a haunting glare of the conditioned serial killer.]

MC/Yuu Morgan: “Off with your head.” Seems appropriate in Riddle’s case.

They would hack up the body like an anatomical puzzle game and stuff them in trash bags with tons of weights to prevent floating. Like what Dexter did filling his bags of victims with rocks.

MC/Yuu would throw them in the ocean, hoping no Mer-Creatures would scavenge through.

The news broke out of Riddle’s mother going missing for a week.

Nobody knows it was the Ramshackle Prefect responsible for the disappearance.

Almost all of the cases of missing people and horrific threats were caused by the unassuming magicless Ramshackle Prefect.

Now if there is an ending for MC/Yuu Morgan, they’ll probably change their name and identity like in Dexter: New Blood and try to pass on from their past actions, but keep coming back.

That concludes if MC/Yuu acts, behaves and pursue like Dexter Morgan.

#The Master of Sorcery answers #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #twst #twst au #Dexter #Dexter: New Blood #Dexter Morgan #MC Morgan #Yuu Morgan #twisted wonderland mc #twst mc #twisted wonderland yuu #twst yuu #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader

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aziraphales-library · 1 year

Note

hello ! do you happen to know of any hurt!Crowley fics that focus on all the little hurtful things Aziraphale has said to him throughout the years ? like examples from the show would be all the "foul fiend" stuff or "you do something, im the nice one !"

or maybe like how A always seemingly expecting the worse of C or constantly is reminding him of his demonic status as a sort of insult

hope i described that well ? basically aziraphale hurting crowley with little comments throughout the years (even if he didnt really mean them) and that building up

Hi. We have a bunch of fics like this on our #apologies tag, in which Aziraphale acknowledges and apologies for how he’s talked to and treated Crowley over the years, so do check those out. Here are some more fics along the same lines...

Worst Case Scenario by EdosianOrchids901 (T)

Aziraphale keeps insisting that a Heavenly victory will be “rather lovely”, and Crowley is sick of hearing it. If Heaven wins, they’ll either destroy or torture all demons. How can Aziraphale think that’s lovely? Crowley confronts him with reality.

Loose feathers by tenebi (T)

Situation: Crowley and Aziraphale have been drinking, Aziraphale yet again mentions Crowley's nature and his “ incapacity to love ”. “I mean it’s not like you have been treating me like I am always here to personally attack you or it’s not like you have been putting every fucking problem of this earth on my back just because I happen to be there, and yeah I know I know that what demons do but I was expecting you to understand after a bit… or when you keep telling every soul that we meet that we aren’t friends” Crowley's voice began to crack, but he didn’t care anymore.

His glasses were giving him enough protection to hide the pain in his eyes and the literal pain caused by the liquid that had started to gather up in his eyes.

“ but the worst the worst is that even after everything, the 6000 years, the armageddon and the trial.. you still think I don’t-”

Six Thousand Years by Ilovecastiel18 (G)

Post-canon. Aziraphale explains to Crowley that he has loved him for a long time, he was just scared of what Heaven would think. Crowley gets angry because Hell would have done worse, but he never hid his love. He leaves to think things over and comes back with a gift for Aziraphale and an apology. Hurt/Comfort, angst, romance, fluff, love confessions.

Let me be that I am, and seek not to alter me by elf_on_the_shelf (M)

The World didn't end but that doesn't mean there aren't quite a lot of things to be addressed yet. Especially between an angel and a demon and especially after they have avoided talking about them for so long.

Looks like I am finally doing a "night at Crowley's flat" fic, two years too late :)))

Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy by prongsredconvers (G)

“I’m not angry, Aziraphale” Crowley interrupted him, his tone somewhere between a sigh and a mumble “I was never angry at you. I just don’t want to have dinner with you” “But if you are not angry, then why?” Crowley slowly rocked on his feet. “Because I’m tired, angel” Aziraphale stared at him. There wasn’t irritation in his voice. Nor anger. It sounded void, emotionless. Maybe a little resigned. “Tired of what?” “Of everything” the demon replied

Or: After a fight, Aziraphale understands how much he's really hurt Crowley and tries hard to fix it. Also, Crowley finally takes care of himself.

Warmth by indigo (E)

Friends with benefits really had to be the very best solution there was for any self-respecting immortal being on Earth. Handy. Convenient. The perfect way to de-stress with none of the hassle of trying to find a human willing to overlook the more demonic parts of appearance. It was reliable. Comforting even. Dependable, emotionless relief.

Perfect, Crowley thought.

Right up until the point when, well, it wasn’t.

Be warned - that last one is super angsty!

- Mod D

#good omens #ineffable husbands #angst #emotional hurt/comfort #hurt/comfort #apologies #hurt crowley #mod d

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martynsimp69 · 1 year

Text

hiii so!! here’s a little write up about the docmartyn mermaid/marine biologist enemies-to-lovers au i mentioned here, significantly later but also much longer than i intended it to be. written in collaboration with @daisycraft and @kingtheghast thank u both for letting me steal your very good thoughts and words <3

au contains themes of dehumanization and mentions of violence/injury. the tone gets a little dark at certain points, so just be warned!

— — —

the only thing really known about mer is that they’re sneaky, scarce, and very dangerous. a siren song will lure an unsuspecting ship into rocks and a crew into the water, where teeth and claws and cold, crushing depths await them. so when there’s reports of what might be a mer spotted a few miles off the coast, a team is sent out to deal with it before it causes any casualties.

it’s rare to have one this close to land. it’s even rarer still that its successfully netted, and successfully sedated. several of the crew members are heavily wounded in the process, but no one dies. and, in an unheard-of turn of events, that also includes the mer.

and you see, up until now, mer have only ever existed in vague sightings: pieces of dead ones caught in fishing nets, grainy phone camera footage, strange findings of scales and old dwellings left behind in the ocean, and the wild tales of shipwreck survivors. so this whole thing is kind of a Big Deal. for the first time ever, a live, healthy mer specimen has been found, captured, and brought in to a facility for observation and study. and the honor of leading this unprecedented study goes to doc.

(the role would be a much bigger honor if the mer wasn’t an annoying, stubborn, spiteful little bitch.)

so doc gets transferred over to the marine biology department, where a huge tank has been retrofitted into one of the bigger labs, and brought on to the study of specimen 9201223—which is a terrible name that doc isn’t going to remember, so he starts calling it “martyn” after a childhood pet fish of his.

but yeah, once it settles in and stops hiding all the time? it turns out that “martyn” is a bastard of a specimen. the lab keeps it semi-sedated as part of the safety protocol (they feed it fish laced with a numbing drug that limits its ability to vocalize, so it can’t lure any of the staff into drowning themselves or breaking it out; the sedation is a side effect) and yet it still finds the energy to cause Problems for the research team. it’s tearing up the kelp and gravel along the bottom and stuffing it into the water filters. it’s slamming into the side of the tank, scaring the shit out of the scientists. it’s trying to bite the interns fingers off during feeding time. it’s eating the rubber ball they gave it for enrichment and getting sick. it’s ruined at least three laptops and countless lab reports by splashing the personnel at every opportunity. and it seems like it’s actively trying to be uncooperative with every test they run.

working with the damn thing makes doc want to tear his hair out, but he’s also stubborn as hell so it becomes a rivalry, a battle of wills; doc hates this fucking fish, and he’s pretty sure it hates him right back.

it doesn’t particularly like anyone, of course, but he’s convinced it targets him on purpose. it starts to sit at the front of the tank by his desk whenever he’s in, swimming back and forth, staring with those freaky blue eyes, rapping on the glass when it gets too quiet just to see him jump. it hides whenever other researchers swing by, but when it’s just martyn and doc in the lab, during his late evenings working overtime? god, can’t get rid of it. can barely get any work done with it bothering him.

and then. it’s one of those late, frustrating evenings when martyn is being particularly bothersome while doc is just trying to get some paperwork done, and he’s sick of it. he’s so frustrated with martyn’s constant tapping on the tank that he rips out a page from his notebook, balls it up and whips it across the lab… and then watches as martyn darts off, going as far as his tank will let him go after the ball of paper before he eventually turns and goes back to doc. and that’s the moment doc realizes, ohhh my god it’s going stir crazy. oh my god. it just wants to play.

suddenly, doc has a new perspective on his relationship with the mer, and a lot of things start making a lot more sense. martyn’s not just banging on the glass to annoy him when he plays music, he’s trying to get him to change the song to one he prefers. the haphazard woven band of seaweed around his head might not be some sort of stress response from running into the glass too much, but an accessory, a form of personal identity. the way he stares during observations, the way his freaky eyes follow doc’s hand down the page as he writes his notes—maybe he’s observing doc and his behavior right back, trying to make sense of him.

and, yeah, martyn’s still uncooperative and bitey and impossible to deal with as ever, but doc starts feeling less like he’s working with an animal, and more like he’s working with a very stubborn person. it’s a lot to wrap his head around, and the more he notices it, the harder it becomes to ignore.

still, he and his team run their tests, gather their data, publish their findings. and the media eats that shit up… at least during the first year, when the captive mer is still novel and sensational. after a while, public interest wanes, the studies get more niche, and funding starts to slow down.

that’s when some of the faculty board members approach him with a proposal.

you see. the care and upkeep of a live mer is extraordinarily expensive. the personnel, the food, the medicine, the aquarium chemicals, the water and electricity bills, etc etc etc., it’s all getting to be a bit… much. and, frankly, they’ve already gotten plenty of research done as is. so they were considering that, well, it might be time to retire the mer program and do some final reports, and then perhaps they can move on to some other, less costly studies.

doc doesn’t realize exactly what’s being suggested until the words euthanasia and dissection are dropped. he starts protesting, stammering about the— the ethics department, and— and species preservation, and— and they can’t just—

and he’s told, quite plainly, that the thing's going to die anyways, or have you forgotten, doctor, that we don't know how to keep a species like this yet?

this tank isn't enough for it to live healthily, or very long.

we don’t even know how old they’re supposed to get in the wild.

better to get something out of it before it gets sick enough to be spoilt.

doc takes a deep breath, and tells them to get out of his lab. the board members exchange glances, and tell him they’ll give him time to think on it. doc tells them, louder, to get the fuck out of his lab.

…sitting there in that empty room, lit by the blue glow of the tank, doc feels cornered. because yes, sure, martyn is uncooperative and annoying, but also—good lord. he’s smart enough to be uncooperative. he’s smart enough to annoy him. those luminous blue eyes that stare at him through the thick glass are freaky and inhuman, but they’re intelligent. and they just want to—

he could go to the ethics board, sure. he could go plead his case and show them all the evidence, look, look, he’s not just a monster, he’s not just an animal. just spend some time with him, you’ll see. but there’s a lot of people who won’t be happy with that. a lot of very influential and rich people, people whose surnames are carved into plaques outside the building or have their companies attached to big research grant funds. and if they stop paying, doc doesn’t really have a say in what happens to martyn.

he can continue his research quietly for now, but it feels like the rest of the facility is breathing down his neck with expectations and deadlines. doesn’t help at all that the mer still doesn't want to be any sort of cooperative, either, because it’s just delaying an inevitable end that it doesn't even know is coming. the thought that he’s the only person able to protect martyn right now is fucking terrifying.

doc sets his paw on the glass tank, and the mer on the other side smiles a big, sharp smile, and mirrors him with a webbed hand.

#sorry for writing That and then calling it fis au. my bad. he’s 🐠 tho u have to understand—#i’m going a little bit insane abt this au. this is like a fraction of everything we have for it. it’s been less than a week.#the merfolk worldbuilding goes kinda crazy ngl #docmartyn #<- technically. this is all set up they haven’t kissed yet they still need to learn how to communicate first #trafficshipping #hermitshipping #i feel bad using those tags but i know it’s important for ppl who wanna filter but also #i feel like i’m throwing this absolutely insane crackship into the tags where people might see it. sorry. uhm. 🐠#feel free to ask questions i know this is so much and yet like. so little. there’s a Lot not explained in this post LOL #i might not answer EVERY question tho <3 lowkey want to write something for this so We’ll See but #fis au

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