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dead-boys-club · 2 months

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† kisses : shigaraki.

❥ scenario: kissing tomura. ❥ no triggers; not rated. ❥ i don't have any beta readers - you get what you get. ❥ requested! it is a whole mess.

✧*̥˚ some stuff *̥˚✧

tomura comes off as a rather aloof person; someone with many walls and deep rooted trust issues. so, if you're kissing me, we can already assume your relationship to him is one build over a good amount of time. it would be a very, very intensely personal experience for him. he's not used to physical touch by any means, so it would put him in an almost awkward mindset. he probably wouldn't fully know how to process being so.. ( god, i use this word a lot, i'm sorry ) vulnerable and close.

kissing him would be soft and slow. he would be hesitant, like you were something fragile, also trying not to fuck something up. he's navigating something new, so it would take time for him to get the hang of it. and, it would make him smile - which is a feat all in it's own. he would show you this small, gentle smile; a genuine expression of warmth and adoration that's incredibly rare.

i can't even put into words how soft this man would be over kisses. and, he's not going to be picky once he gets the hang of it. he would really, really enjoy:

moth kisses

forehead kisses

jaw kisses

slow make out sessions

in the beginning, he would ( idk, is this surprising? ) not be in control of shit. he would actually hand the reigns over to you and enjoy the ride.

the thing is, he's a really good kisser???? because any time he kisses you, he's kissing you like it's the very last time. he's got a hand on the back of your neck, fingers settled against when your hair stops, just.. drowning in the intimacy of the moment. his other hand gripping onto your shirt at your side - he'd have hell letting go.

he's obsessed. and, honestly, unless he's in a foul mood, it's the best way to distract or help him feel better. though, i should add, i feel as though he'd become just a tad bit clingy towards you once you made it to this level of intimacy.

if i keep going, i'm going to go down a rabbit hole of trapping him on the couch and kissing him til neither of you can breathe, SO - i'm going to slide down into a scenario.

✧*̥˚ tiny things *̥˚✧

❥ moth kisses: ( so, do you remember the last time we actually saw him play a game? no? me either but- ) moth kisses are mostly to attempt to annoy him, which.. may only actually work once or twice. the type of kisses you give when interrupting him. when you just cup his face and kiss all over, quickly, not giving him a chance to do anything about it.

❥ forehead kisses: god, please, give him forehead kisses. he really appreciates them in the morning or before bed, the way you brush his hair aside and linger for a moment. i feel like this is a gesture that really makes him understand that you're there for a reason. and you're genuine.

❥ jaw kisses: when he's working on things, you generally know better than to fuck with him too much. so, as you're tucked up beside him, that's when you nose and press little kisses to his jaw. you try not to jostle him too much.

❥ temple kisses +: this is more of something he does for you. because it starts as temple kisses, his eyes closed as he layers kisses over the spot for a few seconds. he'll slowly move down until he's nosing at the spot behind your earlobe, either humming or whispering little things. very much a private moment that no one else sees.

❥ the aforementioned slow make outs: usually when this happens, he's either tired or it started because he was in a shit mood. he likes how it starts as just small kisses and then turns into closing his eyes, lungs clenching, need building but it's still going so slowly, it's nearly killing him.

❥ the one time you almost died: because it was in the middle of a fight. it wasn't your fault that when you caught his gaze, you both seemed to stop. however, when you plant an unexpected kiss on his lips before disappearing into the fray once more, he's briefly distracted and a little agitated. you were being reckless but fuck if he didn't continue on with wanting more of you.

✧*̥˚ first kiss *̥˚✧

withdrawn.

that was somewhat normal but he seemed even further gone than usual. his responsibilities and the pressure on his shoulders, it was starting to wear on him and you could see it. the way he sank into the arm chair, picking at the hem and staring off into space. it wasn't something you enjoyed seeing.

you shift from your spot by the doorway, approaching to settle on the armrest of his chair, lifting his hand into your hold. a few minutes past in silence, neither of you feeling the need to say anything. you could see some sense of helplessness behind his eyes, making you frown and squeeze his hand. he didn't pull away despite how he flinched, fingers curling into the touch.

'tomura..' you said softly, not really know what could be said in the moment, considering he'd never done too well with encouraging talk. 'i'm here, you know?'

it took him a second before his head turned, guarded expression briefly flickering to give way to something softer. he didn't say anything, gratitude seen in his gaze. it wasn't hard to identify the conflict going on behind his eyes, something you knew you couldn't do much to fix or aid in. the most you could do was attempt to distract.

you didn't think about it too much, or at all, when you began to lean closer, the distance between you shrinking quicker than your mind could keep up. you were really leaning far too close into the personal space of one of the most dangerous men you knew and couldn't really stop. your heart felt like it was in your throat the moment your lips pressed against his own. the kiss was tender and hesitant, lasting only for a moment.

when you pulled back, you weren't sure how to act. his eyes were slightly wide with bewilderment, frozen and free hand anchoring him to reality with it's grip to the armchair. 'why...?' he began, barely above a whisper, not trusting his voice. you could hear the confusion, clear as day, but beneath it - there was something else. the smallest note of longing.

his voice completely erased the mild panic that had grown and you just smiled, light and careful. 'because you matter to me? because i adore you. and, i want to be there for you.. in any way that i can be.'

you weren't expecting to make a confession and he surely wasn't expecting to receive one. thankfully, he didn't respond to that. 'thank you,' was all he managed to get out, taking in the words and warmth that spread through him at the kiss.

the room fell quiet once more, though the atmosphere shifted into something new. there was a newfound understanding created from the simple, yet profound, moment of intimacy.

and, it would only grow from that moment on.

#mha #mha imagines #mha scenarios #mha imagine #mha x reader #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki tomura #shigaraki tomura x reader #tomura x reader #bnha

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horseshoegirl · 8 months

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Set Me Alight - Part 4: One Way Or Another

📜Midge... Don't....Don't... Ugh, never mind. She's going to do it anyway.

I had to split the chapter again! I didn't want to overwhelm the word count, so the banner I posted before will be used for the next one! Which will be posted within the next few days!

❗️+18, Minors DNI, Strong Language, Enemies to Lovers, Original Female Character (s), Short OFC, Bradley Bradshaw x Natasha Trace, Verbal fights, bullying, description of injury (A bruised wrist), camping, and pranks.

#4.4k

Part 3 | Masterlist | Part 5

The first rays of sunlight shining through the canvas of your tent are what stir you awake the following morning.

It’s a struggle to open your eyes with the aftermath of how much you cried yourself to sleep last night. The skin under your eyes and your eyelids simply ache, and you want to sink yourself down into the ground, never to be seen nor heard from again.

However, each gentle breeze caressing the side of your tent and each chirp of a nearby bird is slowly coaxing you out of your sleep. It seems peaceful, serene even. Like all was right in the world.

Then the first sharp throb of your wrist pulsed up your arm, and you were dragged back to the harsh reality of what was this fucking mistake of a trip.

Right. The fall. Your wrist. The two she-devils.

Seresin.

You can’t help but cringe as you cradle your wrist to your chest, willing each aching pulse to fuck off and go away. There was no way you’d be able to paint today or tomorrow. Maybe even the rest of the week. The realization stung so sharply you wanted to cry - you'd miss out on all the prime spots, the best angles and outlooks, even the waterfall today, all because the fucking asshole decided to scream, “Look out, there’s a bear!”

If there were ever a time for you to swear at the universe for the cruel joke it was playing on you, taking away your only solace and leaving you with nothing but anger, frustration and one Jake Seresin to put up with, you'd find the tallest mountain in the park and scream, "Go to hell."

You opened your eyes to the thought, staring at the corner of the roof of your tent. While you might not be able to hold a paintbrush, there were other things you could do to pass the time.

Eagerly sitting up and sliding your legs out of your sleeping bag, you reached for your clothes and quickly got changed, hoping no one else was up. If you had any chance at getting back at Jake for your predicament, you couldn't be seen doing it.

It had to be a prank. Something classy and of the same calibre he started, but enough to drive home the fact two could play at this game. And that you wouldn't resort to his level by injuring him - not that you could.

To your surprise, when you finally opened your tent, hoping to take in the morning air, you were treated to the sight of the map in its clear plastic bag and the silver compass placed directly on top, sitting on the ground in front of you. You had forgotten them completely last night in your haste to escape the chaos and embarrassment, and for a moment, you stood there, wondering who had done such a thing.

It was a small act of kindness, one that quieted your anger towards Jake for a moment.

Your mind raced through every person who could have done such a thing - Nat with her concern from last night. Bob's quiet kindness, perhaps Grace or Cora, both of whom had shown moments of empathy and understanding. Even Maybe Mickey, or Javy or Rueben, to make up for their girlfriend's behaviour.

The thought that it might have been Jake briefly flickered through your mind, but you quickly dismissed it. He sought out every opportunity to tease, provoke, and hurl insults at you when he could, and you felt stupid for even entertaining such a thought.

With a mixture of curiosity and gratitude, you made a mental note to find out who was responsible and thank them for the kind gesture.

Lifting your head, you took in a deep breath, the crisp morning air filling your lungs and the earthy scent of the woods filling your nose. Light filtered through the trees, and their leaves seemed to rustle with the breeze. Along with the birds, you could have sworn you heard a squirrel or chipmunk, too.

Something had to be wrong. The campsite was too quiet.

Unlike yesterday, when Jake woke everyone up with his crazy-ass antics, everyone was still content to be tucked safely into their sleeping bags. You looked around, half expecting to see him lurking about somewhere or about to stir up trouble.

While his tent had been left open, he was nowhere to be found.

The metaphorical light bulb went off above your head with the realization you had your chance to set up and cause some shit without ruining it for anyone else.

The smile that crossed your face at that thought alone could have rivalled even that of the Jokers.

Approaching the firepit, the memory of last night still fresh in your mind, you noticed Jake had already taken down the food cooler from the nearby tree. It sat next to the little stone monument, waiting for Bradley or Nat to start handing out everyone's food packs.

You checked over your shoulder once, then twice to see if the coast was clear, before kneeling down and carefully flipping open the lid. You searched each one until you came across Jake's and your own, pulling them out and placing them side by side.

The little bottle of sugar Jake had brought with him for his coffee was at the top of the bag. You smirked in glee, knowing Jake would have no idea you messed with his bag, given its easy position. The man was so anal about things, his hair, his outfits, he'd notice if it had somehow fallen to the bottom of his bag.

Then, you found what you wanted out of yours.

Your container of salt.

It was the only thing you could think of right now. Fuck with his coffee, or at least something that he could put into his coffee. It was cheap. It was harmless. Probably even childish. But considering he actively went out of his way yesterday to prevent you from having yours, this was fair game.

Grabbing a spare container from your bag, you quickly unscrewed the lid, pouring Jake's sugar out into the safety of the container before reaching for the salt. You worked as fast as you could with your injured hand, grimacing as you tried to prevent any grains from spilling over as you refilled Jake's bottle.

After pouring his sugar into your own bottle, you quickly tidied up, making sure there was no evidence of your impromptu switch. You stood up, wondering what else you could do with the time you had or if something as simple as that would be enough, at least for today.

But the sight of Jake's tent, left wide and open, was another opportunity you had to take advantage of... Right?

It wasn't like Jake to leave his tent open. It either meant he intended to come back right away, or he forgot he had even left it open. You looked to the trailhead, then to the general direction of the area the group had chosen as 'the bathroom.' Jake still hadn't made his grand appearance.

"You shouldn't,' the angel on your shoulder screamed.

"Do it," the devil on the other murmured.

Your feet carried you forward, and you hesitantly approached his tent as if you were about to be arrested for murder. Resting at the entrance was his fishing bag, and you kneeled, undoing the zipper just enough to peer inside.

There was a tackle box full of hooks, lures, and other small items—a couple of bobbers and sinkers, snap connectors and an extra fish gripper. There was a knife and even a roll of fishing line; you gave into the urge to pull them out the second you saw them.

The lack of his fishing rod indicated he had definitely gone off and found a body of water or pond to go and attempt to catch something. It made you anxious, knowing you were working on borrowed time. Without really thinking, you unsheathed the knife from its case, letting out a painful yelp, only to spin out some of the wire and cut a sizeable length of it against the ground.

What for? You had no idea. But you had time to think about that later. The possibilities of what you could do with something like a piece of wire out here in the wilderness were endless.

Your heart rate spiked when you heard voices coming from one of the tents, and you quickly tried to put everything back where you found it. You shoved the wire into your back pocket and accidentally popped open the tackle box as you jammed the knife back inside.

Your hand screamed at you, already pushed to its max, as you scrambled to carefully pick up the fallen hooks from within Jake's bag, already knowing you probably missed a couple. One caught on your bandage, and you didn't bother removing it as you snapped the lid shut and zipped up his bag.

Racing back to your tent, the zipper of Bob and Grace's tent was being pulled up. You skidded to a stop and kneeled next to the map, swearing softly to yourself as you grabbed the stowe-away hook and shoved it into the front pocket of your pants.

You could only hope Bob thought you were getting up and emerging from your tent for the first time this morning.

Bob stepped out, having seen nothing of your hasty retreat back to your tent, and offered you a soft "good morning' accompanied by a smile.

"Morning, Bob," you greeted him with a smile of your own, trying to calm your breathing. "Do you know who did this? I want to thank them."

Bob looked down to where you were pointing and shook his head. "Sorry, Maeve. I didn't see who. It was there when Grace and I went to bed last night, though."

Not Bob. Or Grace. Hmm.

With nothing else better to do, you offered to help Bob start the campfire while Grace got ready. You arranged the kindling and small logs as Bob gathered some of the bigger ones Bradley had cut the day before. It was a few minutes before the two of you got a decent-sized setup, and in that time, Grace had joined you two, promising to get to the coffee first so you'd have a cup before venturing out for the day.

You always thought her name suited her - literally always a saving grace.

You held up one of the sticks as you were breaking up a few to add to the pile, twirling it as you inspected the top. "This would make for a good Marshmellow stick."

Bob dropped the log he'd picked up into the pit before settling himself down next to you. He reached out and took the stick from your hand, playing with the top of it like you would messing around with the sharp edge of a knife.

"This one?" Bob said, examining the stick closely. "Nah, it's too flimsy. It'd catch fire before you got that perfect char."

You quickly catch on to his meaning, and you gasped at him in horror. "Bobby, No.. that's just...a Marshmellow shouldn't be crunchy."

"I've always made them like that!" he exclaimed in protest.

"That is so wrong, so so wrong!" you cried out. Grace makes a gagging noise in agreement with you. "The burnt part is carcinogenic, Bob. Listen to Maeve," she tried to encourage him.

"You can always take the burnt stuff off," he pouts.

"That's not the point of a Marshmellow on a stick. You want them crispy, not fired to hell."

"Is that where you make yours?"

You turn your head towards him, shocked. Then, a bout of soft giggles racks your body as Bob starts to sport a grin. "Damn, you woke up snarky this morning."

"It's not my fault you two like eating fluffy clouds and chalk dust," he joked, knocking your shoulder playfully. You and Grace share a look and continue to giggle, shaking your heads.

It took a little bit for Bob and you to get the flames to catch. But eventually, after some poking, prodding and waving, the flames erupted and grew steadily, crackling happily.

You stood to high-five Bob, celebrating after your struggle. But just over Bob's shoulder, you see Jake walking down the path, fishing rod in hand, and it quiets you instantly. His gait was easy, and he appeared lost in his thoughts, watching each of the steps he took. He seemed tired, with bags under his eyes and his face weary.

You missed the way Grace and Bob shared a look at one another.

Once he reached the edge of the camp, Jake lifted his head, his eyes immediately meeting yours. You want to glance away, but you can't bring yourself to. There's a strange mix of emotions swirling inside you - curiosity, irritation, maybe something else you can't quite put your finger on.

Jake holds your gaze for all but two seconds before it's travelling down to the bandage on your wrist. He knits his brow, and a pained expression strikes his face. It's enough for you to instinctively tuck your arm behind your back and drop your chin to your chest in embarrassment.

Grace calls out that the coffee is ready, and you twist, reaching for the cup she's holding out to you. You grab it eagerly, offering a quiet 'thank you' and bringing it up to rest just before your nose, taking a deep breath.

The smell seems to calm you down but does nothing for the image of Jake's reaction to your wrist playing in your head.

Was that guilt you saw? Or lack of sleep? Did he lose sleep over it? Over what happened last night? He did try to call for you. But why? Why? The idea that Jake might actually feel remorse was unsettling, challenging even.

Despite yourself, you glanced back over your shoulder. Jake was already gone, off to greet Mickey good morning with a hug and slap on the back, and you felt ashamed for even having looked.

'No, it couldn't be,' you mused to yourself, 'Jake's not the type to feel guilty.'

You smiled into the rim of your coffee for a moment, thinking about what he might do or react when he tasted your salty surprise.

"What are you smiling about?"

You jumped as Mickey bumped your shoulder with his. "It's too quiet for the two of you this morning."

You shrugged, trying to suppress your grin. "Maybe he's feeling guilty for yesterday. I don't purposely start shit with him, Mickey. You know that."

Mickey didn't answer you. Rather, he reached for your hand, carefully lifting it up so he could inspect your wrist. "Can I take a look at it, Maeve? Please? I promise to be gentle."

You sighed. "I know, I did a shit job of wrapping it last night."

Mickey shook his head. "I only want to make sure there isn't any permanent damage."

You paused for a second before nodding. You let Mickey guide you over to his chair, allowing him to help you sit with a gentle hand on your elbow. He kneeled in front of you, placing your arm on your lap as he worked on undoing your bandage.

"How's the pain?" he asked as he started to unwrap it.

"It doesn't hurt as much as it did last night, though it's throbbing a bit."

"That's probably some swelling," he offered, not unkindly. Mickey made sure you kept your eyes on him as he unveiled the damage, hoping to provide you with some reassurance. You appreciated it, knowing you'd jump to conclusions before knowing how bad it truly was.

He had already unwrapped your arm when he lifted his head, about to ask you if you were ready to see the damage on your wrist, when his eyes tracked some movement behind you. The corner of his mouth wobbled, and he shook his head, immediately setting his back on to you. You went to look, hoping to change whatever caused him to frown when a quip from the other side of the campsite stopped you.

"Need someone to kiss your boo'-boos, Midge?"

Oh, that bitch!

Mickey stopped what he was doing in favour of placing a hand on your thigh, preventing you from leaping up out of your chair. You tense at the touch, and you are sure it's the only thing holding you back. But you wouldn't be you if you didn't offer some type of snarky reply in kind.

It was there, ready to be unleashed. That was until you heard Jake's voice boom from somewhere behind you, the man stepping forward as if he were on a mission.

"Oh, would you give it a fucking rest, Jessica? Unless you're a certified medic now," he points to Mickey, "I doubt your expertise extends to anything beyond Instagram filters and badly photoshopped pictures."

What. The. Fuck.

Your mouth drops. Your face flushes. And you can't help but stare up at Jake as he confronts them - On your behalf. There's even collective 'oohs' filling the camp, and Bradley's rapidly looking back and forth between you, Jake, and Jessica, wondering what the hell happened to warrant such a reaction.

It's the first time you've ever heard Jake speak to Jessica like that, let alone defend you. Are you not sure how you're supposed to feel about the response? Grateful? Happy? Appreciative? Angry he felt the need to defend you?

Why the hell did he defend you?

"She got hurt last night," he points out sharply. "So I don't understand what your point is in saying that. And honestly, it's just getting old and, frankly, pathetic."

Jessica's eyes widen and her face starts to turn red, her rounded cheeks almost looking like cherries. She jolted back, recoiling as if he had dealt her an invisible blow, and her gaze briefly darts to Rueben, then back to Jake.

Conflict is written all over her face.

"Come on, Jake, she didn't mean it like that?" Veronica counters, stepping forward to slide her arm under Jessica's in support.

And in a surprising turn of events, Jake starts to laugh. Mockingly.

To them.

"How does she mean it then?" he turns to Veronica, sarcasm laced into his tone. "What's the point? A Joke? Scarastic comment?"

Jake's face suddenly lights up, a look you are all too familiar with when going head-to-head against him. You cannot help but chant inside your head, Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit.

"Maybe throwing a peace sign up at the end of it as you do in your photos would have helped, but I can't say that's what I would have done when someone has been hurt."

You could swear your heart was beating out of your chest. This didn't make sense.

"Come on, Man, that's not right. Anyone who knows her should know she's not like that." It's Ruben, this time, standing up for his girlfriend, though you can detect a bit of nerves in his tone.

And Jake sneers. Sneers! "Some shakey moral high ground, if you ask me."

"Dude..."

Jake shakes his head, grabbing Rueben by the elbow and pulling him close. He whispers something into his ear, and Rueben's eyes widen. It makes you grip the armrest tighter, maybe in some mediocre attempt to assure yourself you didn't fall down a hole instead of your tent last night and wake up in an alternate dimension.

"It's just badly bruised. Nothing's broken, and the tendon is fine. I would try to keep it wrapped, though."

Mickey prodded at your bruise, and you hissed from the pain, immediately drawing your eyes away from the interaction, finally taking in the damage done to your wrist.

It's ugly, to say the least. It's somewhat ironic that you are already comparing it to smudges on a painter's palette rather than something real and painful marking your own body.

The centre of the bruise was a deep, angry purple, the colour rich and dark, indicating just exactly where you hit the ground. Surrounding it was a halo of different shades of blue, varying in intensity. Some looked like deep twilight, while others were lighter, reminiscent of faded denim. And there was an edge of yellow-green, giving the false impressing it was beginning to heal, though it was very much a fresh injury.

The sight only confirms what you thought this morning. There was no chance you'd be painting at any point while on this trip.

"I'm going to get Cora to wrap it again to relieve some of the swelling. She'd have our asses if we don't let her do it."

You shutter. "Don't I know it."

As Mickey left to find Cora, you tried to figure out what happened. While everyone else had finally woke up and was venturing around the camp, Jessica and Veronica were nowhere to be found. Neither was Rueben, for that matter. Jake, however, was extending his Yeti mug towards Grace with a grateful nod, who was going around filling cups of coffee after having watched the spectacle.

You knew what was coming next. Sitting on his chair was his food bag, and Jake kneeled next to it, placing the mug on the ground to rummage through it. To your surprise, the sight fills you with guilt, and you battle the urge to tell him what you did.

After all, he didn't need to call out Jessica for what she said. But the angel and devil on your shoulder are vying for your attention, and you don't know which one you should listen to.

Be the better person, Maeve. Tell him not to drink it.

Sit back and watch the show, Midge. He deserves it.

Your internal conflict of should or shouldn't is decided for you when Jake finally grabs onto the tiny bottle and dumps a little bit into his coffee. You scrunch your face as he closes the lid and lifts the Tumblr to his lips to take his first sip.

His reaction was immediate, sputtering out his coffee with the grace of an angry camel, and his mug fell to the ground with a loud clank. He stands, racing off towards the bush, coughing and gagging as if he were about to bring up whatever was in his stomach.

You wouldn't be surprised if he did.

But where you thought you'd be rolling in laughter and enjoying his little misery, you're wincing instead. Both elated he was getting a small ounce of karma and mad he had to be anything but kind this morning.

"Why is Jake gagging and throwing up his breakfast over in the bush?" Cora asked as she kneeled down in the same spot Mickey had been.

"Not too sure. Maybe he mistook the salt for sugar instead," you answered her, holding out your wrist for her to wrap.

Cora had already picked up your bandage from where Mickey had placed it in the cup holder when she regarded you for a moment.

She shook her head. "Midge, you didn't."

You eyed her as she started to wrap your arm. "You can't tell me he didn't deserve it after this?" you say, lifting your arm as she securely tightens your bandage around your thumb.

Cora bites her lip in concentration for a second, careful to mind your hand as she pulls the bandage tight, allowing for relief but mindful of how much it hurts. You let out a soft cry as she pulled the material over the most painful part of your wrist.

"I suppose it's a harmless prank," she remarked once the worst of it was over.

"Be glad it didn't do more."

Cora lifted her head, though she didn't stop wrapping your hand. "Did you do more?"

You shook your head. "I'm not saying anything."

And you didn't want to, even if you did or didn't. Jake was alarmingly kind this morning, and anything you said or did in addition to this would make you that bitch in all of this. Cora would be the last person on earth to judge you for pulling shit like this, but that didn't mean the rest of the group would.

It seems your point is nearly proven, too, when Nat pulls you aside in the breakfast line, glaring at you like a mother extremely disappointed in her kid.

"Is that it?" she asked you firmly, jerking her head over towards Jake. "With him?"

She stood with her arms crossed, her posture rigid, and you only offered her a small, toothy grin. "You can't tell me he doesn't deserve a little karma for this," you say, holding up your wrist.

Nat eyed your hand, her face still hard. "You got hurt last night, Maeve. If the two of you keep this up, it's going to escalate, and things are going to get worse."

You shrugged. "It's just a harmless prank, Nat. You know I'm capable of doing much worse."

She does know, having been your accomplice back in school. The two of you were in charge of the student union's annual April Fool's trick for three years in a row. To this day, you're pretty sure some of those crickets were still alive and pissing Dr. Flynn off in his lecture hall.

There was a moment of silence as Nat weighed your words, prompting you to say, "He woke all of us up yesterday morning by banging a pan, he wanted us to lug the cooler up that hill, and he screamed bear, resulting in this," you hold up your arm. "Salt in his coffee? That's minuscule in comparison."

"Alright," she finally said, her voice firm. "But it stops there. We don't need the drama."

"Alright, Mom," you joked, grabbing a bowl of oatmeal. Satisfied with your answer, she let you go, guiding you back to your spot in the line. After collecting your bowl and while she was getting hers, you leaned over, resting your shoulder against hers.

"You got to admit, though, the look on his face was worth it alone."

Nat couldn't help it when she sputtered out a laugh at the memory, and you giggled softly as you swayed back to your tent with your food.

You wondered if something as simple as switching out sugar for salt would be enough to fuck up his day. Or if the guilt building in the pit of your stomach would stop any time soon. After all, Velma Kelly in Chicago was right.

He definitely had it coming. Anyone would have done the same.

...Right?

Careful, Maeve - Nat's not happy.. Not at all...

Taglist:

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Part 5 - I can't go on without you - is being edited!

~ Lucky ☘️

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elisysd · 1 year

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Somewhere only we know – Keane

Masterlist - Previously - Next Chapter

So, tell me when you're gonna let me in I'm gettin' tired, and I need somewhere to begin

The bottle of red wine brought by Charles had not lasted long and the two young adults had quickly found themselves a bit tipsy. They both laughed happily at every little thing, no matter how insignificant, and started a game of Q&A about each other's tastes. It was an opportunity for them to get to know each other a little better. It started with harmless questions, like their favourite colour. Red for Charles and yellow for Lyanna. But very quickly the conversation became deeper.

“Hey, if you hadn’t been a F1 driver, what would you be?”

“Architect, or anything that is remotely connected to art and building. What about you?”

“I don’t know to be honest. The only thing I’m good at is acting, I never thought of doing anything else. And with acting I can be so many different people. Like, once I was the daughter of a fisherman. I had to do so many research and I spent three weeks in Alaska, where the movie was shot to understand what it was like to live the way they do. It’s so different from what I was used to and it really was an eyed opening experience. Acting is all about knowing your character inside and out. I would not trade that for anything in the world.”

“What’s the toughest thing in your job?”

She hesitated briefly.

“Being away from my family. I’m used to it by now, but still, it’s not always easy especially when you are missing birthdays and family gathering. Yes, there are phone calls and texts but it’s not the same.”

“Yeah, I feel you. It’s the same for me. I’m a family guy but even if I have the chance to have my brothers travelling with me most of the time, it’s still hard. I chose this life; I can’t really complain.”

“That’s the thing with our jobs, we can’t complain because we are part of the lucky ones. So many people dream of being out our place and failed, it’s not fair to them to say that our lives suck when it’s not the case.”

“That and also my family sacrificed so much to see me fulfil my dream, I can’t let them down.”

“Can I ask you something really personal, Charles? You can tell me you don’t want to answer if I’m going to far.”

He nodded.

“Are you racing because that’s what you love more than anything or are you doing it because you don’t want to feel like you failed your dad and Jules?”

“I’d say a little bit of both. There is nothing that makes me happier than getting in the car and race, but I would lie if I said that being at Ferrari is my dream and only mine. It was our dream, to me, my dad and Jules. I want to stay there and win a championship with Ferrari for them.”

It was the first time he admitted to someone, even to himself but for some reason it just came so naturally with her. He knew he would not be judged. He didn’t have to be the guy who knew exactly what he was supposed to do. He didn’t have to pretend that he had his life figured out and mapped out. God knew she didn’t so he didn’t have to pretend in front of her. They could be two lost people together. She didn’t say anything and when Charles looked at her, he noticed that she was sound asleep.

Uncomfortable with the idea of leaving her alone with the door unlocked (he didn't feel like going through her things looking for the keys to the flat), he decided to settle down on the couch after putting Lyanna in bed. She was heavier than she looked, much to Charles' surprise, who winced when he took her in his arms. She was so deeply asleep and relaxed that her muscles had become heavy. Charles had taken this as a sign that she was perfectly comfortable in his presence, which pleased him.

Once back in the living room he grabbed a cushion that was lying on the floor and a blanket that was curled up on the armchair by the fireplace. He knew he was in for a bad night, but at least he was reassured that nothing would happen to the actress.

Indeed, the night was tough. If Charles had to rank the worst nights of his life, the one he had just spent would be in pole position. His back was stiff and every single bone in his body was aching. Every stretch he made to wake up his still sleeping body hurt like hell. Every movement was agony. As best he could, he stood up from the couch and gave it a nasty look. He had to say something to Lyanna about this.

Speaking of, he was surprised to not see her awake. The sun was already high in the sky and he could hear the bustling crowds outside the windows of the apartment. He slowly approached Lyanna's room and tried to listen to see if he could hear any noises behind the door indicating that she was awake. Nothing.

Faced with this silence, he took the initiative to surprise her by preparing breakfast. He was also hungry, which was probably the main reason why he found himself in front of Lyanna's fridge and kitchen cupboards, and noticed to his horror that they were empty. There was not a single thing he could do for breakfast. So he chose the next option: home delivery.

Lyanna was startled awake by the doorbell. The young woman was not expecting anyone, and it was with a pounding headache that she got out of bed. Still groggy from the previous night's events and the alcohol consumed at the party and afterwards with Charles, she clumsily pulled on a sweatshirt that was lying on the floor. She fumbled for her phone, only to find it completely dead. The day was definitely off to a good start. The second thing that made her suspicious was the noise that seemed to come from the kitchen. On her guard, she quietly and slowly opened the door to her room and saw a sneaky figure in the living room. It took her a few seconds to realise that it was Charles.

“What the heck are you doing here?” she asked him, surprising him.

“Didn’t feel good about letting you alone with the door unlocked yesterday.”

“So you just stayed there? Where did you sleep?”

“Your couch. A couch that you should change if you want my opinion because it’s fucking uncomfortable.”

“Yeah, well it’s a couch it is not made to be slept on Charles. And I won’t change it, I’m not gonna stay here anyway.”

Her comment stopped Charles dead in his tracks as he held both coffees in his hands. For the first time he was truly aware that Lyanna would leave sooner or later. The young woman noticed the confused look on her friend's face and feared for a moment that she had said or done something wrong.

“It’s just that I didn’t realise that you were going to leave Monaco at some point.” He explained to her.

“Yeah, well I’m here to work, my life is in London. What were you thinking? That I was going to fall in love with Monaco and leave everything behind?” she said amused while laughing slightly.

“I don’t know what I was thinking to be honest. When are you leaving?”

“In a month exactly. I already booked my plane ticket to go back home. I can’t wait to sleep in my bed again. You travel a lot, you know how it is. When you’re away from home, what you miss the most is your bed.”

Charles absent-mindlessly groaned is response. She was genuinely happy to leave and he couldn’t help but to feel a little hurt. Of course that, deep down, he knew that she wasn’t here to stay but still, he didn’t want to have to tell her goodbye.

“I’m going to miss you, you know.” he confessed, a little abruptly.

She looked at him.

“Same. You made Monaco a little more bearable, but hey, I’m still here for now. Let’s not be sad for something that hasn’t happened yet!”

Charles then proceeded to explain to her that his season was about to start again and that in the next few days he would be doing a lot of travelling back and forth between Maranello and Monaco. He knew that he would have little time for her. This suited Lyanna perfectly as she was also very busy. But still, the two young adults were aware that the bubble in which they had isolated themselves over the last few weeks was about to burst and that reality was catching up with them at full speed.

“Well, I’d say, let’s make the most out of these three weeks.”

“You’re right. How do you feel about dinner? Out?”

She hesitated. There are some automatisms that you can’t get rid of, not matter how hard you try.

“ If I tell you that it won’t be in public and I can organize something where I can guarantee you it’ll only be the two of us, without any risks of being interrupted, does it reassure you?”

“You’re not going to rent out a place, are you? Because if so, let me tell you that it’s a boring cliché.”

He laughed.

“Who do you take me for?”

She arched an eyebrow in response.

“Okay, okay. But trust me on this one.”

“You are not going to give me the choice, so go ahead. But please, nothing too grand.”

“You are going to love it! I gotta go, I have some calls to make. I’ll text you the details later.”

Charles was excited that the young woman had agreed. He got up from the couch, put on his shoes awkwardly, under Lyanna's amused eye, and approached her, planting a kiss on her forehead before bursting out the door. Lyanna laughed silently and shook her head. She was curious to see what the Monegasque would prepare for her.

It was Arthur, Charles' younger brother, who was called in for the operation. Charles had thought big. He was going to take Lyanna to dinner at sea, on his yacht, away from the people and the constant bustle of Monaco. Nothing but them and the sea as far as the eye could see and the sunset. He hoped it would relax Lyanna and that she would enjoy the attention. But a part of him was anxious, nonetheless. What if she got seasick? What if she hated the ocean? What if she got sick from his cooking, he would blame himself. And at the same time, he wasn't taking any risks with pasta Bolognese. Unless she was vegan. He should have asked. Seeing his brother on the verge of panic, Arthur decided to have some fun and see how much stress he could add to his brother.

“You are aware that it looks like a date, right?”

“It’s not a date.”

“It sure looks like it.”

“It is not.”

“If you say so.”

“It’s a friendly date, then.”

Arthur groaned in response.

“Stop it.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“We’re just friends Arthur.”

“I believe you.”

“She is leaving soon anyway. And I’m gonna be busy with the end of the season.”

“Are you trying to convince me or yourself?”

Charles sighed, clearly annoyed. Why did it seem so hard to believe that there was only friendship between him and Lyanna? For Charles, this friendship was far too precious and important to him to let it be ruined by any further desires. He didn't want a relationship for a long time. His priority was his career, the rest was irrelevant. And what was the point of starting a relationship when he knew he didn't have room for one in his life? No, really, he and Lyanna would never be anything more than friends. And that was just fine.

“Come on, make yourself useful, go and sweep the floor for me.” he commanded his brother.

“You owe me 50 euros for that!” complained Arthur.

Lyanna got a text from Charles the morning after asking her to wear something casual but dressy at the same time. He could not be vaguer if he wanted to. So it was a lost Lyanna who called her childhood best friend Emilie to ask her advice and to summarize the situation, which already took her a good hour.

“You do know that it’s a date, Lya?”

“It’s not. It’s a friendly outing away from people so I can be comfortable. It’s thoughtful.” the actress tried to justified.

“He definitely wants to bang you girl. No guy is this nice with a girl unless he’s trying to get her into bed.”

“Charles is not like that.” Defended Lyanna.

“Darling, I love you but you’re so naïve sometimes.”

“Is it so hard to believe, hum? That he wants to be my friend? You’re friend with a lot of guys and I’ve never told you anything about it!”

“It’s not the same.”

“How so?”

“Okay. I did some research on him. And don’t be mad…”

“Emilie…” groaned Lyanna.

“This guy seems to be a walking red flag. I looked at his dating history and it doesn’t look good.”

“Well perfect because I don’t want to be a part of that. Again we’re just friends. Nothing else.”

“Yeah well, he was also friends first with is exes … I’m just saying be careful okay. I don’t want you to end up like how you ended up when you broke up with James.”

“I won’t. Charles is a nice guy, really. I trust him and you know how hard it is for me to trust people. It means something, right?

“I still don’t like him but I won’t change your mind so I give up, for now.”

“Thanks, and I’ll prove you wrong about him just wait and see.”

Emilie gave up and after another hour of facetime going through the contents of Lyanna's wardrobe, the choice was made for an emerald green linen short jumpsuit with a bare back. White wedge sandals and some silver bracelets completed the outfit. Lyanna wore her hair in a braid and chose to leave her face bare, without makeup. She liked herself better this way.

“Good luck for your date that is not a date. I want to know every single details as soon as you come back.”

“Promise. And thanks again. He is supposed to be picking me up real soon. I have to go.”

She was about to hang up when her friend interrupted her.

“Hey Lyanna…”

“Yes?”

“I just want to see you happy, okay. I know that I can be a little protective over you but I just don’t want to see you heartbroken again.”

“It won’t happen. I promise you.”

“And if Charles is really honest, ask him to talk to you about his exes, okay? Because from an external point of view, his past relationships make him look like a jerk.”

“If the opportunity comes up I will if it can make you feel better. I really gotta go though, love you.”

“Love you too. Have fun but not too much fun.”

“Yes mom!”

They quickly exchanged their goodbyes before hanging up. One last look in the mirror before meeting Charles outside, a few blocks away from the residential building, a long and deep breath and she was ready.

“A Fiat 500? Really?”

Those were her first words when she saw him, dressed in a plain blue shirt, a pair of white trousers and his Ray ban sunglasses hanging loosely from his collar. He was standing proudly next to the car, a smile beaming on his face.

“I thought that the Pista wasn’t really giving ‘we want to stay on the lay low’ kind of vibes. So I rented this! What do you think?”

“Are we both going to fit in there? Or will we have to squeeze because it seems so tiny.” she said with a grimace.

“Oh come on, I know a lot of people who would be overjoyed at the idea of being stuck with me in this box.”

“Your ego doesn’t need me to feed it.”

“I’m wounded Lyanna. Deeply.” he replied with both hands on his chest, pretending to have been mortally injured.

The young woman laughed heartily and patted him on the back of the head before opening the passenger door and getting into the seat. The journey was made in silence, only punctuated by the music coming from the radio. They soon arrived not far from the harbour where Charles parked the car before beckoning Lyanna to follow him. A few metres further on, they stopped in front of Charles' yacht.

“Tadam!” he exclaimed.

“Your yacht. Are you playing to kill me and throw my body in the water?”

“Ah ah, smartass. I hope you’re not seasick and you like pasta because that’s what we are going to eat. I planned a little trip on the water. I told you I was going to find a way to give us privacy and still enjoy being out.”

“I have to admit, well done. I didn’t think you were that resourceful.”

“I’m full of surprises. Stick around and you might find more.”

Charles was the first to climb aboard before reaching out to Lyanna who took it, having little confidence in the bridge between the boat and the mainland. Charles' firm hand in hers did not prevent her from wavering slightly as she stepped onto the yacht. Her hip bumped against the rail and she winced in pain. Although she didn't have a bruise there, David's grip on the red carpet had left her muscle sore.

“You’re okay?” asked Charles.

“Yeah, I’m fine don’t worry. I’m just a little sore here, nothing bad though. I’ll survive.”

“A bad fall? I have a good doctor if you need one.”

“I’m not made on paper Charles, I’m fine, okay. Just drop it, please. David just has a strong grip, that’s all. He hurt me a little.”

“What do you mean ‘he has a strong grip’? Charles asked with a frown.

The actress briefly explained to him, without going into the details of their altercation, what had happened with David on the red carpet. But her explanation did not seem to please Charles who tried to ask her more precise questions, feeling that the young woman was not telling him everything.

“Lyanna, I’m just going to be straightforward but has he been violent with you? Physically.”

“Oh no Charles, you’re not going to act like a watchdog with me, okay. I won’t allow it. He is just an arrogant asshole; I’m not scared of him. And you’re certainly not going to stick your nose into my business.”

He grumbled a little but, anxious not to ruin the dinner, he let it go. Charles then went to the cabin of the boat to indicate to the captain that they were ready to leave and then motioned to Lyanna to come with him and together they went to the back of the boat where Arthur had set up a nice table waiting for them. The pilot proceeded to pull Lyanna's chair so that she could sit in it. At his gesture, she gave a soft laugh.

“A real gentleman.”

“Or you do things the right way or you don’t do them at all.” He replied.

He then excused himself to fetch two plates that were waiting to be eaten.

"Well, you didn't do things halfway," Lyanna said.

“You deserve it and I did promise you a nice evening. And as it probably is our last before a long time, let’s enjoy it.”

“To our last times, then.” she toasted, a drink of champagne in her hand.

“Hey, we will still see each other. Not as much but I’m sure we will find occasions.”

“How come?” she asked, genuinely curious.

“Well, you could come to some of my races? I was thinking that maybe you could come with me in the Netherlands. It’s the next one in three weeks. And you don’t have to watch from the Ferrari garage if it scares you, you could be officially Pierre’s guest. Kika will be there, you could spend time with her you know.” At this point he was rambling.

“I see you thought this through.”

The truth was, he did. Charles could not bring himself not to have her around. He had become far too accustomed to her presence and the idea of being away from her bothered him more than he had imagined. So he had spent the day thinking of a solution. Preferably one that wouldn't make her run away in advance. He knew that if she came to one of his races, it would only rekindle the rumours, and considering how it had gone the last time for them, he certainly didn't want the situation to happen again.

“And what do you think? I have a whole plan prepared, you just have to say yes and I’ll take care of everything.”

“Charles… I have no doubt that you do but I can’t come. I’m wrapping up the movie soon and I’m really needed here, I can’t leave. And then I wanted to go back in France for a few days to see my family before going back to London. I just don’t have the time to squeeze a race in there.”

“You can’t or you don’t want to?” he asked abruptly, hurt by her answer.

“Don’t take it like that…”

“I’m trying to find solutions to not have to say goodbye to you Lya.”

“And it’s really nice from you. But hear me out as well. I can’t drop everything to be at your side every chance we get. I have my life too, my work and obligations. It’s not that I don’t want to be there with you.” She explained.

“Well if you don’t want to come to Zandvoort, come to the football charity game organized this week. I would love to have you there and you won’t be alone, Kika will be there too since Pierre is participating. And I will film some stuff for my youtube channel. I would like to have your input.”

“Don’t you have a team to help you with that? Surely, they know what they are doing.”

“They do, my best friends manage most of the content I post online but I would like to have your opinion, you know, as someone who is used to being in front of the camera.”

“Well, tell me when it is exactly and I’ll see what I can do.”

The rest of the dinner went relatively well. Charles opened up a lot about his past and told her some funny anecdotes about is dad and Jules without having Lyanna asking for it. It made her happy, seeing that he trusted her enough to let her inside this aspect of his past. But Lyanna could not help but to have in the corner of her mind the words of her best friend, telling her to let Charles speak about his dating history. She didn’t know how to ask him without it being awkward.

“Can I ask you an intrusive question?” She ventured.

“Yeah. I’m not hiding anything.”

“How come you don’t have anyone in your life?”

He sighed and leaned against the back of his chair, staring into space, trying to find the best way to formulate his thoughts.

“If I’m meant to have this conversation, we should at least have it while eating the tiramisu I bought.”

He stood up and quickly returned with two generous slices of Italian cake.

“I didn’t have much romantic relationships in my life. Well, not many that really mattered I would say. My life is busy, always being away, working a lot, you know how it is. It doesn’t allow me much time to meet people or develop new relationships. If I’m being honest, you are the first person, in a long time, I befriended that is not from Monaco or that is not linked to the motorsport world. And you see what happened with the rumours, everytime I’m seen with a girl, it is blown out of proportion. It scares away a lot of people. So it’s really not helping. The scrutiny I get on the daily is hard to handle. I’m not counting on the number of paparazzi pictures of me and my ex-girlfriends that were in the press.” He explained.

“Is this why you always date girls that are in the same friends group?” The question slipped out and he looked at her in surprise. “Sorry, it’s rude. It’s just that I read that online and… anyway forget it.”

“I… well… I mean, I guess it has always been easier this way? It’s no excuses and I know that it can make me look like the biggest jerk ever…”

“No, you think?” she tells him sarcastically.

“The truth is, that way you don’t have to question people motive, I can already trust them a little bit. I don’t have to tell them my story, I don’t have to allow the trust to grow. Time wise, it’s easier and it’s spared the awkward situations.”

“Yeah well, basically you are saying that you don’t have to go through what you went through wit me. I don’t know how to take it.”

“Lyanna, I didn’t mean it like that. It’s not the same with you.”

“How so?”

“Because I know that nothing will ever happen between us. We are just friends, you are not expecting anything from me. It’s refreshing.”

She didn't show it but deep down she was hurt.

“Am I a distraction for you?”

“What? No of course not. Why would you think that?”

“Because that’s how you make me feel right now. Like I don’t matter. Like I can be replaceable.”

“How many times do I have to tell you that I want you in my life Lyanna? Our friendship is important to me. We don’t know each other for that long but you quickly became one of the most important people in my inner circle. I want you to meet my other friends, I want you to meet my family, I want to show you what my job is, I want to include you, okay? It’s clear from my end. The question is will you let me to?”

Lost in the middle of the ocean, with the water stretching as far as the eye could see, Lyanna felt trapped. So she got up from the table and went to lean against the rail a few metres away.

“I would love to trust you fully Charles, but it’s hard for me. If I do that, if I let my guard down with you, I need to be two hundred percent sure that I’m not making a mistake, that I can trust you and you won’t judge me. Because I would not be able to handle it.”

Charles slowly approached her before putting his arms around her shoulders and pulling her against him. She could feel his breath in her hair and his body scent mixed with the smell of the sea air and his aftershave reassured her. She felt good, protected and safe there.

“I promise you Lyanna, you will always have me in you corner, no matter what happens;”

She moved away from him and sat down on the floor. He did the same.

“Then, I guess it’s time for me to tell you what happened 5 years ago.”

========

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drchenquill · 4 months

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Foliè ~ Chapter 5

The Curse

The world fell silent as the now dead man lay at my feet. My breathing was so loud that it even pushed the woman's voice into the background. I had killed someone. I wanted to scream again, but I couldn't find the strength. I fell to the floor, just as my tears rolled down my cheeks. I tried to force my shaking fingers to clutch the handle of the dagger, to pull it out, but my muscles wouldn't listen. I sat next to him and looked at his lifeless face, my thoughts plagued with guilt, when suddenly he tore his eyes open with a loud intake of breath. I shrieked and fell backwards. What the fuck? As if he'd been replaced, his gray-green eyes turned dark and lifeless again. His dark hair turned back to blond and became sickly. His skin lost its shine. With a grunt, he yanked the dagger from his stomach and straightened up. “Shit, I always forget how much it hurts.” His eyes met mine. He smiled. “So, did you like my little demonstration?”

“Let him feel your anger. I know you'd love to.”

As much as I wanted to, I hadn't sunk to the point of taking my frustration out on someone else.

“I know you want to. I'm in your thoughts, I'm your thoughts”

She was wrong. My thoughts were mine, my feelings were mine. She was just an insect that had nested in my mind. I just had to find a way to kill this insect and then I would be free. “Say, are you all right? You're kind of staring past me, which is very creepy.” My eyes twitched to the now living man in front of me. One thing was true, I was angry, furious, with him. “You're a fucking heartless asshole.” I pressed through my teeth. For a second he looked shocked, but he covered it up with a stupid joke. “Are you flirting with me?” I felt an eyebrow twitch, but I held back.

“Do it. Let out your frustration.”

I shook my head and stood up. I'd had enough. The whine of the machine's alarm could still be heard in the background, and if they had seen me, it didn't take long for them to put the puzzle together. “I don't have time or desire to play games with you. I don't give a shit about what's wrong with you, but one thing is for sure, it is not and will not be my problem, I have my own baggage to carry. If you wanted to tell me, you missed your chance with that fucking show you put on.” I didn't even wait to decipher the chaos of emotions flitting through his dead eyes. I turned away, but he grabbed me painfully hard by the ankle. “Don't…don't go.”

“This is a show, don't think for a second he's serious. This is the punishment I gave him, for succumbing to madness before I arrived.”

“I've been alone for so long… please don't go.” Something stirred inside me, making me pause for a moment. The woman's words and the man's begging made me feel guilty for some reason, but I pushed that feeling aside. He continued to speak, this time accusingly. “Do you know how difficult it is to be accepted anywhere with the way I look? No one wants to be around someone who looks like someone recently murdered them.” he snarled now. “Why do you even look like that?” slipped out of me. Silence surrounded us as these words escaped my mouth. Why had I asked that? Why was I interested in what was going on with this stranger? “You really want to know?”

“No.”

“Yes.”

He smiled and for the first time it looked like a genuine smile. I felt something in my chest again, a thumping, something warm coursing through my body, but I ignored it. “This is the first time I've ever told anyone about this,” he said quietly. “How should I start?” he mumbled. I rolled my eyes and glanced briefly over his shoulders. The city could be seen in the distance, thick clouds of smoke rising from the machine and seeming to engulf everything. I heard sirens, screams. At some point they would have to question my group and they would explain that they had last seen me there and then I could only start praying that they would give me a painless death if they caught me. I turned away again and looked into the man's dead eyes. “Speak,” I said, and he did. “I have been cursed to wear the face of the man whose life I took.”

~~~

chapter 4/chapter 6

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sir-yeehaw-paws · 10 months

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LAD GAIDEN: Gathered Thoughts

Before I get into this proper, I just want to say that I’m not a professional reviewer or anything. And I’ve never really done a ‘write up’ for any of the RGG games before this. I’m just a dude with some very emotional thoughts. Yadda-Yadda. The best TL’DR of everything I can give? Gaiden is absolutely amazing. It has quickly become one of my favourite RGG games of all time, and I’d like to do a replay when less emotional overall, and Plat it.

Short Sweet: No Spoilers Version

Gaiden was touted (from what I recall) as a little bit of side content to give Kiryu some more context, or possibly something else to do. Instead, we got a short, but incredible game with stellar acting, amazing characters, fantastic writing (some of my favourite RGG writing since 0) and fun mini games, the best version of the Coliseum they’ve managed to do; wonderful sound track, two new styles (Agent Style is an absolute blast) and a finale that left me so emotionally distraught my mum came into my room to hug me when she heard me crying.

If Gaiden has any cons (and again, please keep in mind this is all just my personal opinion) it’s that the side content in regard to substories are mostly tied to content to build up the Joryu Clan in the Coliseum, including a somewhat tiresome gang mechanic. It’s nothing like the slog fest of annoyance Judgment’s was, but I have never been a fan of the gangs in these games and this one was more contained and shorter. Thanks to the game itself being much shorter.

The pacing in the beginning is a little bit odd too. But once the game itself picks up, it hits very well and doesn’t slow itself down.

My only other ‘gripe’ if you can call it that, is that the live action cabaret is uncanny in a way I really did not enjoy. This is not the first time that RGG has done live-action (the intro is live action briefly too, and has a beautiful, seamless transition to Kiryu that I really liked) but the hostesses have a strange stiffness to them as they talk at a camera (Or well, Joryu since it switches out to first person) and I just never adjusted to it. No disrespect to the actresses, or Kson, but I just couldn’t get myself to mesh with it.

Oh, and I found the Karaoke really hard for some reason in this one. Go figure.

And you can dress Kiryu up, which renders fully in game and in cutscenes. Greatest. Mechanic. Ever. And I’m just going to put a special shout out to Akame here. One of the most fun characters they’ve done yet. 10/10. Love her.

That’s about as spoiler-free as can be. So, I’ll wrap up this fast summary with ‘highly recommend, check it out if you get a chance’.

Everything below the cut is going to include spoilers, and lots of them. Screenshots too, as well as links. (Including for Yakuza 5, 6 and 7 in particular) so if you want to read me rambling for far too long, keep going. Otherwise, take care!

Extensive Thoughts Version

I’ve been trying best to think about how to put down everything I want to say, but I can never quite agree (mentally) on the best way to put it. The summary version up top does say it all, in a way, but Gaiden was so much more than it promised. And in a good way.

I’m one of those people who came out of playing Yakuza 6 feeling a weird mix of hollow and annoyed. For a supposed ending to Kiryu, so much just felt utterly unsatisfying and I was irritated (again a personal thing) with how Yakuza 6 felt like some weird Haruka punishment. I realize completely that this is all a personal interpretation; but 6 just did not sit well with me.

It remains the only Yakuza game I have yet to replay.

I guess one could ask ‘did we need Gaiden’? And honestly? I’d say yes, we did. If you’re one of those people who felt as annoyed with 6 as I did, and (let’s be honest) a little thrilled but also somewhat stumped by Kiryu diving into 7 to have his cameo and ‘day saving’ appearance and vanish again.

But I don’t want to ramble too much, this is already going to be longer than something anyone wants to read on Tumblr. So let me conclude by saying this game completely patched up the ‘meh’ feeling 6 left with me, and mentally wrecked me in the process.

In a good way.

Gaiden’s real strength is it’s writing. The characters have that grittiness and desperation that drew me in so hard to Yakuza 0. They feel like the Yakuza I know from these games, and that energy carries through every scene. There’s a greyness to them that is extremely well done, and anyone who follows me knows how much I love my morally grey characters.

(For those who do not know jack shite all about me; I love them. I love my grit and grey morality a lot). Anyway!

On the title screen, you’re presented with four characters. Kiryu (ahem, Joryu). Nishitani III, Tsuruno and Shishido.

It’s sleek, elegant and draws you right in. Also gives you a good clue as to what lies ahead (in a way). But I’m going to be coming back to that, so let me move on for a moment.

To keep this as contained as I can, I’m going to link to a post write up I did for a scene in chapter two. That summarizes to a degree what I really loved about this writing. Like 0, you are never 100% sure who is on Kiryu’s side. Or. More accurately, who is going to stay there. Tsuruno starts out the same way the others do. Kiryu can cooperate, or they can attack Morning Glory. Or he can kill Hanawa. Kiryu is often presented in Gaiden with choices that aren’t exactly choices. But that’s hardly new.

Same is true of Hanawa. But as it pans out, both of them stay firmly on Kiryu’s side after certain points. Hanawa’s loyalty is secured when Kiryu saves his life; and Tsuruno gives up fighting the stubborn wall that is Kiryu’s loyalty (if loyalty by complete necessity) to the Daidoji.

The Daidoji are something else that is done better here than in 6 as well. In 6, they kind of had this boogeyman in the shadows element that made so little sense until they have their reveal in the ending and take over Kiryu’s uh..non life? After he is forced to fake his death and go under their control. (They are also funding Morning Glory, a fact they remind him of any chance they get, and the hit squad on it remains until chapter 2 and Kiryu makes the deal with the Boss). The observation itself doesn’t cease completely, however.

As we’ll see in the ending.

But one of Gaiden’s real strengths, IMO anyway, is the characters. Gaiden’s story is built around them the same way any RGG game is, but in a way that is representative of the story itself too. Kiryu’s job in this game is to assist Watase in the dissolution of the Yakuza. Watase (from prison) is fully aware this is not going to go well, and rallying assistance is the only way they can even hope for it going off without too much of a body count.

One of the biggest hurdles in achieving this is the existence of Nishitani III. An ex-Jingweon mafia member who eventually revitalized the Kijin clan and became its patriarch. As well as taking up the Homare Nishitani mantle. In previous games, I’ve found they sort of shoehorn in the Jingweon when it seems convenient, but I think it works well enough here. It isn’t dwelled upon all that long, and it’s decently believable for a backstory.

Is giving Nishitani III a personal grudge against Kiryu necessary for the role he serves here? No clue to be honest. But it’s no gripe and it doesn’t impact the story all that much. The issue at hand is that Nishitani III is (in Watase’s eyes) one of the people who won’t accept a dissolution, and they want him out of the way. Eliminate Nishitani and the biggest dissenter is out of the picture.

I touched on it in this post here, but the TL’DR of all this, is that they are not at all correct in this assessment.

(I should mention Hanawa’s arc here, but I’m going to save it for a bit later). Instead, I want to get my thoughts out on the final boss of the game. As the real issue is not just Nishitani III, but Shishido.

Shishido’s story is that, at the age of 15 his father sold him to the Kijin clan as a slave to amend his own massive debts. A fact that is shown in a flashback where he’s collared and chained up, forced into playing Russian Roulette, amongst whatever other established horrors Nishitani III can come up with. (Nishtiani’s thing is the beautiful, ostentatious Castle. A boat of every element of sin, debauchery, and pleasure you can think of. Including gambling, human slaves, the coliseum and of all things, the place you can dress Kiryu up in his funky outfits).

Shishido is an amazing fucking character.

(I ran out of image space but his character design absolutely fucks too)

He has fast become one of my favourites, and it’s no surprise. His set-up for being the final boss isn’t made immediately obvious but over the game you notice him following the general formula for it, (see this ask I got here for more details if you’re so inclined) and boy is the payoff so worth it.

Shishido climbed his way up and up in the pursuit of survival. Anything the man has to his name he earned through very literal blood, sweat and tears. Shishido is young, but he is very much a Yakuza of the old. A fact that is commented on by Kiryu in game. It’s no mean feat either to from slave to Watase Family Lieutenant, with the man’s physical history is written all over his face.

(And I adore him. But that’s hardly important for a review eh 😉)

In the games final chapter, we learn that Shishido is against the dissolution of the Yakuza, and considers Watase, Tsuruno, Kiryu and any other traitors. Shishido is the embodiment of what Watase was so concerned about in the first place; a Yakuza who has known no other life and has no way assimilating into the world without it. Not to mention, Shishido feels he earned his place in this world. Why should he have the rug he worked so hard to install ripped out from under him?

He’s not wrong to believe this; and the others around him don’t think that he is either. The issue is that the world is moving on without them. Everything Shishido worked for doesn’t matter when that ending is coming; and there is so little they can do to change or stop it. Shishido might’ve thrived in the old days; but the modern world doesn’t have a place for him.

With this being a tie-in game, we know this is a foregone conclusion. We know the days of the Yakuza as they once were are well and truly over. But that doesn’t lessen the impact Shishido has at all. I made a comment to myself in the recorded playthrough (I recorded the finale but it’s a blubbering disaster, so I doubt I’ll post it) that “Shishido fights like a dying man”, in the endgame.

Or, as Saejima more accurately puts it “He’s like a cornered animal right now.” But having a little bit of time on my hands to reflect (well somewhat, I just finished the game yesterday after all, at the time of posting this). I think Kiryu does in a way to.

The final boss battle is a recreation of the Aizawa fight in Yakuza 5. Shishido has 4 phases and 12 health bars. And just like Yakuza 5, it’s amazing. With Kiryu fighting him through the Omi Headquarters until he’s kicked right out of the building. My words don’t’ do it justice, and it’s absolutely the kind of thing one has to play (or watch) for themselves.

When Shishido is defeated, he is grabbed and choked unconscious by the Daidoji Agent Yoshimura (who I took to calling ‘diet Jingu’ because he fights with a gun and runs away from you like a lil bitch-and was the one who left Hanawa to die and tried to kill Kiryu for trying to save him). Who then throws Shishido in his trunk to be a future “Daidoji Agent on a very short leash.” To bunk with Nishitani…his old Master. And the one Shishido worked so hard to get his life away from. I have no idea if this is going to be touched upon in future games like Infinite Wealth, but it hit me like a train.

The Yakuza is over, but Shishido isn’t. And this leads us right into the finale. Which.

This mother fucking goddamned sob fest finale.

I touched upon it here. But I just. Can’t do it justice with words. I don’t think that I ever will. Kuroda’s acting in this is unlike anything I’ve witnessed, and it’s amazing. He’s not just sobbing; he is breaking down completely and heaving over a tablet of his kids visiting his grave. With Ayako and Taichi noticing they’re being monitored and assuming their Uncle Kaz (who none of the kids believe to be dead, btw) is watching them. So, they begin talking. Updating him on their lives, where they are now etc.

Taichi is a firefighter, for example. Yuta is still around. Haruto is an adorable handful, and overall, they assure him that they’re all doing really well. They promise to come back tomorrow with a gift. Hanawa explains they had to remove the camera after that..but they did take photo of the gift the kids left behind.

Kiryu has been vulnerable in the past, but this is something completely unique. He’s broken, alone, and in all respects, a dead man who can’t have the one thing he cares about more than anything in the world. His kids are growing up, and trying to maintain their lives without him, but they feel the big gaping hole left behind by his larger-than-life and fatherly presence more than ever. And god I’m going to tear up writing this.

A drawing Haruto did of the family.

A drawing Kiryu (amidst his utter flood of tears-and mine) turns to show off to Hanawa to brag like the proud, sad grandpa he is. Hanawa questions if this ‘gift’ was just cruelty, but Kiryu promises him that it wasn't. It’s agonizing. It’s through all this that Kiryu admits, possibly for the first time in his entire life, that he is lonely, and that he realizes he needed his kids more than they needed him.

And we know, of course, that by Yakuza 8, Kiryu is deathly ill, and still for all circumstances; alone. Away from the kids eternally. Unless they make some change to that. I cannot stress enough how little justice my words do here. I really can’t. Kiryu may not have been the perfect father, or grandfather. He has made a lot of mistakes in his life, and his tendency to run off to solve problems on his own unfortunately translated to his daughter, Haruka.

Bu goddamnit I can’t say that he didn’t try.

It is clear as day how much he loves these kids. And misses them. No, he wasn’t perfect. Yes, he made a lot of mistakes, but he tried. And he can never see them again even though they know he is out there somewhere and ho man ho boy I can’t.

Remember how I mentioned above that I’d touch on Hanawa? I’ve chosen the finale to do so, because Hanawa and the Head Priest are the only ones who can share this moment with Kiryu. Kiryu also reveals to Hanawa that he kept Yumi’s ring and admits that his inability to be honest with his feelings kept him from confessing and proposing to her.

“Until she was dying in my arms.”

Man, I need tissues. Again. Hanawa is Kiryu’s handler (for lack of a better term) but he very much becomes a friend throughout the game. He’s ruthless. He’s dangerous, but their relationship is an interesting one and I found myself appreciating it a lot. He doesn’t seem like all that much from the beginning, but their bond is a good one; and over the course of the game Hanawa opens up in small ways and throws Kiryu bones where they are the least expected.

He's eternally loyal to the Daidoji and makes very difficult choices (and threatens Morning Glory in Chapter 2, only backing down when Kiryu submits again) but like I said in the link above, I actually believe him when he says he really doesn’t want to be doing this.

Doesn’t change the fact that he’s doing it, mind. But it’s good writing. It’s really good writing. I love this game. And then as Kiryu sets out for his (much needed vacation) Hanawa gives him a new temporary identity.

Taichi Suzuki. To which Kiryu is like "Oh. I've used that before. Didn't tell any of you though..?"

Now, I’d like to point out here that Hanawa shares the same VA as Yu Morinaga from Yakuza 5; Hiroki Tochi. This on its own really wouldn’t mean much. RGG has done this sort of thing many times before. Shared VAs throughout the series is normal.

BUT.

There are some heavy context clues that seem to heavily imply that this is, indeed, Morinaga.

I cannot possibly confirm this 100% of course, but there’s other clues dropped in the ending that really make you wonder.

I think it works.

Which is such a fascinating little idea. The kind of thing that could really feel ham-fisted; but if it is indeed the case here?

But we’ll see.

This is already way too long a write up, but I want to make a final note on Kiryu here. Kiryu in this game is something to behold. He’s miserable, he’s tired, and he’s truly a dead man walking. “The Man Who Erased His Name.” indeed. Sure, everyone sees through his fake identity in seconds, but that doesn’t change the fact that Kiryu is locked into this role for good.

Who he is who he might want to be. The people he cares about. He can’t touch them. He can’t do any of that. Kiryu is sassy and ‘done with everyone’s shit’ in Yakuza 5, and that same energy is carried over into this. He has some truly biting ‘IDGAF’ moments, and in the most ‘gangster’ we ever see him (taking over the Castle from Nishitani) it’s both a great window into how he might’ve been as the chairman of the Tojo, and a man who is already dead and miserable, so what does he have to lose?

(I swear I had a better way of putting this..and the internally selfish part of me kinda loved and adored that moment even though I know he’s in pain so uh. Bah, make of that what ya will).

To conclude, Gaiden’s a wonderful game. No game is perfect, and there’s no way this is all my thoughts on it (as I said, I’m still extremely emotional). But it’s everything I didn’t know I wanted, and a fantastic ride.

If you’ve read this far, thanks for coming along for the ride! I hope you enjoy this game as much as I did!

And I'm gonna cry again. Help.

#gaiden #lad gaiden #like a dragon gaiden #gaiden spoilers #lad gaiden spoilers #like a dragon gaiden spoilers #thoughts posts #nate reviews #nates gaiden thoughts #nate rambles #yakuza #ryu ga gotoku

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sith-shenanigans · 5 months

Note

npc ask game; The Master (from the Revanite quest on Dromun Kass)?

Hi! Sorry! I originally couldn’t answer this, because Alderaan and the Revanite b-plot were both a disaster and I had to resolve them. (These things are related because when I originally played through, I thought that when I closed Act 1 by confronting Zash, I might lose access to Act 1 quests. So Ahene went running around cleaning up every old quest in the quest log, and so she did the Revanite quest right before the finale of Act 1. And then it… turned out to be extremely important for character growth. Despite happening at the wrong time. Oops.)

So instead of being the Dromund Kaas planet quest, the initial Revanite plot turned into the main sideplot of Act 1. If you don’t want spoilers about specific plot twists in Liminality—which you probably do because you sent me an ask, but everyone else—now is the time to look away.

All looked away? Good, great, fantastic.

So the way the plotline starts is that Aleeleti, the friend who introduces Ahene to the Broken Chain, is of course a Revanite. And then the questgiver shows up to blackmail Ahene into spying on the Revanites, saying that if she doesn’t, he’ll just report that the whole Broken Chain is involved, and that won’t be hard to sell at all. So Ahene has to deal with the fact that a) her least complicated friend is actually putting everyone at risk, and b) now she needs to betray said friend, which she is really not on board with doing.

So this means that the bit on Nar Shaddaa with the vault is a Bonding Activity (because Ahene manages to get herself recruited after Balmorra), and also kind of a Revanite Trial, and she is coming to the conclusion that she honestly does not really care about Revan but these people are somehow the most reasonable Sith in the galaxy despite being a cult dedicated to a long-dead historical figure who didn’t live in the Empire anyway.

A bunch more stuff happens on Alderaan. The mask of Revan is involved. Those two Revanites who both want it? They go to Alderaan. As per the plot, they both try to get Ahene to give it to them. Not as per the plot, she says no. You both want to be the one to decide what to do with it, she says, but that’s not either of your calls. It’s your boss’s call, actually. The only person she will give this mask to is your boss.

She’s still not sure whether to betray them or to confess. She doesn’t want to betray them, but she’s… not really sure they’ll let her live if she confesses.

Cue the arrival of Tari Darkspanner, who kind of knew the whole time, and who decides to give Ahene a chance anyway.

This is a gesture of trust that Ahene really, really wouldn’t have expected. It’s barely in her worldview as A Thing People Might Do at all, much less a thing a Sith might do. Much less a thing a Sith with everything to lose might do—and Ahene keeps thinking that so much of the selfishness, so much of the cruelty, comes from having everything to lose.

We learn something about Ahene, here: the fastest way to earn her loyalty is to give her actual trust.

This isn’t something Ahene knew about Ahene until just then.

She goes back and convinces the blackmailing questgiver that he should just bury the whole thing, because if he tries to go after his master no one will believe him, especially with a piece of evidence that means nothing out of context. So he can’t turn in Aleeleti, either. (Possibly she’s keeping the amulet, so that she can threaten to go to her own master with evidence that would be much harder for her to get than for Darth—Charnus’s?—own apprentice to get, and turn the whole thing into nonsense and politics and the Inquisition all over everything, and of course Charnus will throw his apprentice under the bus.) Very much a “if I go down, you go down with me” kind of situation.

Ahene and Tari probably don’t speak again. Unless they do, briefly, when Tari tells her to go her own path afterwards. But Ahene considers herself a Revanite until it becomes clear that the Revanites don’t.

(Tari would have liked to think otherwise. But someone who was trustworthy as an apprentice is not necessarily trustworthy anymore, now that she has so much power. Or if she is, she is perhaps trustworthy to someone else. Darth Marr does not make political alliances—but it has been rumored, recently, that he has. And Tari knows that if Darth Occlus is anything like the strange, desperate little apprentice she met… Ahene would never betray that trust.)

[npc opinions]

#asks #oc: ahene coris

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theavengerfairy · 5 months

Text

Tales of a Wildflower: A Wildflower in the Woods (Pt. 2)

The tension in the air was palpable as the two groups remained locked in their staredown, limbs twitching as muscles tensed with building energy. Only the elf, seemingly the leader of the newcomers, appeared entirely at ease, an irritatingly smug smirk etched on his angular face.

"What have we here?" he drawled, the loftiness of his silky voice equally as irksome as his expression. "A few mangy mutts trying to steal our hard-earned quarry out from under our noses? You are quite brave—or quite stupid. I suppose the truly desperate are willing to risk anything for a little gold…"

"Your quarry?" Vax parroted with a hint of incredulity, only daring to risk a glance at the woman for a moment before snapping his attention back to the elf.

As he raised one well-manicured brow, the elf's smirk twisted into more of a sneer. "And now you feign ignorance. You think us that stupid to fall for such a simple trick? You're lucky we find your efforts amusing otherwise we'd have already struck you down. And you, little wizard-"

Sweat trickled down the back of the woman's neck as the elf's eyes flickered over to her, a shiver running down her spine. Her stomach clenched painfully as he peered at her so intently it was as if he was looking right into her soul.

"-have just proven exactly why you shouldn't be out here. After somehow managing to give us the slip, you didn't just thank the gods for your luck and put as much distance behind you as you could. No, you foolishly circled back to search for something you lost. Tell me, do you think that whatever you left behind was worth coming back for now?"

Though shame burned hot on her cheeks and in her chest, the woman did not lower her head but rather kept her gaze fixated on the elf. However, this apparently only amused him further as he just chuckled.

"I suppose it doesn't matter either way. This little game of yours has come to an end, Reyen. Do yourself a favor and stop making this harder than it has to be."

"No," Reyen retorted firmly, though Vax noticed there was a slight quiver to her shoulders as she spoke. "Even if I screwed up, I made it this far on my own and that has to count for something. I can't give up; I won't!"

"My dear, it is adorable that you think you have a choice in the matter," the arrogant elf jeered, his tone unquestionably condescending as he leered at her. "Now cease with these dramatics and come along quietly. No one else has to get hurt-"

"She's not going anywhere with you." Vax cut in sharply, surprising even himself as all attention suddenly snapped to him.

"Uh Vax, what are you doing?" Scanlan hissed through gritted teeth and a strained smile, a bead of sweat trickling down his brow as his eyes darted from foe to foe. "This chick's drama isn't our problem!"

Pike flashed her fellow gnome a disapproving frown, "So we're supposed to just turn a blind eye?"

"Uh yeah, kinda! We already have our own little issue to deal with in case you've forgotten!"

"We were never getting out of this without a fight anyways." Vax retorted, eyes flickering briefly back to Reyen as she stared up at him in disbelief, "Might as well make the most of it and knock these cocky bastards down a few pegs."

With a loud, exasperated groan, Scanlan ghosted his fingers over the strings of his lute while Pike tightened her grip on her mace. "This hero crap is getting really old really fast."

His body taut like a snake poised to strike, Vax lowered his voice to a whisper only Reyen was close enough to hear. "We have a better chance of getting out of this if we work together. Do you know any spells that are really loud?"

Her brow furrowing slightly, Reyen gave a subtle nod.

"Good. Use them."

In that moment, Vax transformed into a blur. While the dagger in his hands soared from his fingertips in the elf's direction, his heel kicked out behind him and collided with the shaft of Reyen's staff, sending it into the air. Understanding dawning upon her in the nick of time, Reyen bolted to her feet and thrust her hand in the air, her fingers curling tightly around the rod as it collided with her palm. The memorized incantation already tumbling from her lips as the silvery light enveloped her hands once more, she shifted her attention to the halfling, kenku, and aarakocra perched on the tree bough and focused the magical energy she was summoning amid the three of them. The glowing silver orb that materialized in the air flickered for but a moment, hardly an intimidating sight, before detonating in a flash of force, light, and sound. Pained cries sounded from the three targets as they were jettisoned into the air, the shrill ringing of the spell still echoing in their ears as they tumbled, and their human compatriot hardly had time to utter a startled yelp before being crushed beneath them as they landed in a groaning pile of tangled limbs.

Any trace of the elven leader's smug sneer evaporated as he ducked out of the way of the airborne dagger, his face now twisting into a snarl as his eyes darkened. "We were asked to bring you back alive, but nothing was ever said about you being unharmed. You wish to play rough, brat? Fine, we'll entertain your delusions of grandeur for a little longer."

While the somewhat battered halfling, kenku, and aarakocra crawled off of the unconscious human and staggered back to their feet, the minotaur and half-orc both charged with mighty bellows. While the half-orc made a beeline for the two gnomes, the minotaur set his sights on the half-elves, nostrils flared and horns lowered as he barreled toward them with building speed. The crack of Pike's mace breaking bone and the half-orc's pained howl greeted Vax's ears just as he hurled himself out of the bull hybrid's path, but a glance over his shoulder made his stomach drop when he noticed Reyen still rooted in her spot, her frightened eyes locked on the beast. However, before the rogue's fingers could even brush against the hilt of his other dagger, the wizardess raised her staff high above her head as another string of syllables spilled from her lips before slamming the hilt against the ground as hard as she could. The raucous roar of thunder flooded her surroundings as the minotaur was flung several feet away from her before landing on his back with a thud, and as he tried right himself again, Vax sprang into action and sliced two deep gashes along the back of the beast's knees before darting out of reach again.

A shrill screech echoing from above beckoned the half-elves' gazes skyward just in time to witness the aarakocra descending on them, having traded his bow for a pair of gleaming daggers. However, before he could close the remaining distance between himself and his prey, a familiar shimmering purple hand materialized with the strum of a few chords by Scanlan's skilled fingers and promptly backhanded the avian into a tree, where he stirred for a moment before falling still. However, just as the hand reared back in preparation of flattening the wounded minotaur, it stiffened for a moment before detonating in a burst of purple light and sparkles.

"Uh, Scanlan, is it supposed to do that?!" Vax called over his shoulder.

"No!" Scanlan squawked in reply as he barely managed to dodge a strike from the kenku that had snuck up on him. "That's never happened before!"

"Someone counteracted his spell. I've witnessed some of my instructors do it before." Reyen interjected, her eyes already surveying the clearing for the opposing source of magic as she already had a suspicion of just who was responsible. Sure enough, her eyes locked with that of the elven leader just as his grinning lips began to utter another spell, and though she summoned a fistful of crackling flames in almost an instant, hoping to strike before he could complete his incantation, her efforts were in vain. The world around her shimmered as a transparent dome of magical energy enveloped her, the blaze in her palm fizzling within seconds before sputtering out completely. Though her lips chanted frantically, not a sound was heard nor did even a trace of her magic's silvery light manifest. Gritting her teeth in frustration, she sprinted for the barrier's edge, but before she could break free, a projectile of sickly green energy rocketed past the border, forcing her to stop in her tracks to avoid getting hit. Her mind hurriedly filtering through her now fairly limited options, she waved her hands wildly to try and get Vax's attention, and when his eyes shifted towards her, she began gesturing from her lips to the dome to the elf, desperately hoping he would understand. However, just as comprehension was dawning on him, Vax heard a heavy grunt, the shifting of dirt, and quiet chanting echo from behind him. He spun around just in time to witness the minotaur rising back to its feet as his halfing comrade knelt beside him, the wounds on his legs mending in mere moments beneath her hands as the healing incantation bubbled from her throat.

"Well that's just bullsh-" Vax began to groan, but his grumbling was cut short as the minotaur swung its warhammer down towards the rogue with a mighty roar. Springing out of the way with mere seconds to spare as the hammer collided with the patch of dirt where he had been standing moments before, the half-elf swiped at the halfling as she darted past him in Reyen's direction, her handaxe clutched to her chest, but his blade only pierced the air. Detecting a flicker of movement in his peripheral, he rolled out of the way as the minotaur's warmhammer came smashing down again near his head, realizing only too late that he had situated himself directly in the beast's path. The hybrid's hoof slammed into his chest as he cried out in pain, pinning him to the ground as it raised its weapon overhead one final time. Just as it was about to deal the killing blow, however, a familiar roar overpowered the other sounds of battle all around the rogue as something big and gray charged into view, colliding with the minotaur and knocking the hybrid off of its feet.

"NO ONE CRUSHES PUNY VAX BUT ME!" Grog bellowed ferally before embedding his ax repeatedly into the minotaur's chest.

At first, Vax could only just stare, but eventually a tentative smile spread across his lips as a wave of relief washed over him, "That comment should not be as comforting as it is right now."

As the rogue scrambled back to his feet, a deafening bang assaulted his ears, followed by the pained scream of the elf mage as he clutched his clavicle, blood seeping into the fabric of his shirt beneath his palm. To Reyen's relief, the dome surrounding her rippled for a moment before dispersing, although she only had a moment to be thankful before the armed and inbound halfling yanked her mind back into the battle. A spell was already poised on the tip of her tongue as she wound back her open hand, but before she could utter even a syllable, her opponent yelped loudly as an arrow sailed seemingly out of nowhere and pierced her hand, forcing her to drop her weapon. Both the halfling and Reyen turned their heads in the direction from which the projectile had come, but rather than an archer, they were greeted by the sight of a massive brown bear clad in armor barreling towards them with the snarl. The halfling could only manage a squeak of terror before she was knocked off her feet, her eyes already rolling back in her head before she even hit the ground. As the bear's large head swiveled towards her, Reyen froze, her breath catching in her throat as her heart raced. However, after staring her down for a few painfully long seconds, Trinket merely snorted at the stranger before lumbering towards Vax, the rogue affectionately scratching under his chin as soon as he was within arm's reach.

Starting as a distressed squawk sounded behind her, Reyen spun around just in time to witness Pike slam her mace into the side of the kenku's skull, the bird-like being's body tethered in place by a tangle of long vines she swore had not been there previously. Her senses still on high alert and her nerves abuzz, the wizardess slowly surveyed the battered bodies of the defeated mercenaries until her eyes finally settled on the only one who remained conscious: the elven mage. Clenching her jaw, she slowly strolled towards him, returning his venomous glare with her own stony look as she reached his side.

"Well? Go on, little wizard. Strike me down and enjoy your delusions for a bit longer," he snarled up at her through gritted teeth. "You've gotten this far because of luck and pity, but that won't sustain you out here forever. Sooner or later, you will be forced to face the truth: that you are nothing more than a naïve brat who's wandered too far from home-"

With a sickening crack, the bottom of Reyen's staff smacked against the mage's temple, silencing him. As the adrenaline finally began to taper off, a heaviness settled over her body and the throbbing of the wound on her hand grew more prominent. Digging through her pockets, she eventually found a small cloth that she draped over the gash before gripping it tightly in her other hand, grimacing slightly as the pain intensified.

"Here, let me help."

A jolt shot through Reyen's body as her eyes darted in Pike's direction, her mind struggling to comprehend just how the little gnome had managed to creep up on her despite the clattering of her armor. Her eyes first analyzed the small hand innocently extended to her followed by the cleric's kindly face, searching for even the faintest traces of ill intentions, and upon her examination yielding nothing, she hesitantly deposited her injured hand into the gnome woman's palm. However, her trepidation soon evaporated as soft, warm light radiated from Pike's fingers, soothing warmth permeating Reyen's hand as the cleric murmured the words of the healing spell.

"Thank you." the wizardess breathed as the light of the incantation started to fade, flexing her fingers in amazement while Pike simply grinned up at her.

"So, somebody want to tell us what the hell happened?" Vex proclaimed as she approached her brother with Percy and Keyleth in tow, her keen eyes swiftly scanning him for injuries. When nothing major caught her eye, her attention shifted to Pike and Reyen, her expression hardening towards the latter who flinched beneath her steely gaze.

"Vax and Pike wanted to play noble heroes and dragged me into it." Scanlan whined, "Frankly, I think your brother's brain got a little fried when he was hit by that lightning spell earlier."

Vax shot the bard a disapproving glare before meeting his sister's gaze, her lips pressed into a thin line as she waited for him to make his case. "She needed some help. She was being hunted, Vex."

"And why is that? Who even is she and when did she become our problem? Last I checked, we have other rather pressing matters to worry about right now." Vex retorted sharply.

Scanlan threw up his hands in exasperation. "THAT'S WHAT I SAID!"

"We were already caught in the crossfire because of some misunderstandings. Saving her meant saving our rear ends as well. Besides, I thought we were giving the 'good guy' thing a try now." Vax replied coolly, adding just moments after as a thought crossed his mind, "Speaking of which…"

His hand disappearing beneath his cloak, Vax eventually withdrew the small pouch they had found, Scanlan's mouth falling agape at the sight of the little bag in the rogue's hand.

"Hey! When did you-" the flabbergasted gnome started sputtering, but Vax paid him no mind as he approached Reyen.

"I believe this belongs to you," he cooed with a reassuring smile as he held the coin purse out to her, Reyen's eyes went wide at the sight of the little bag.

"Thank you," she murmured as she grabbed the purse and clutched it to her chest, her fingers stroking the soft material. Lowering her gaze, Reyen's eyes momentarily grew glassy as her focus shifted inward, and whether she realized it or not, her lips quietly began voicing her thoughts, "He wasn't wrong though. I should've just kept going rather than turning back. It was a stupid mistake...but it's one I can learn from."

With a sharp shaking of her head, a gleam of clarity returned to Reyen's face before she met Vax's gaze again, "How can I repay you?"

Vax blinked, caught offguard by the inquiry, "What?"

"You stuck your neck out for me, even though I was a complete stranger and I shocked you thinking you were another mercenary. I'd like to return your kindness."

"There's really no need-"

"Now hold on a minute." Scanlan piped up as he sidled up alongside Vax, eyes twinkling in that way they always did when he was scheming. "The lady is trying to express her appreciation, and it would be incredibly rude to turn down her hospitality, wouldn't it? Let's see what she has to offer!"

Before Vax could protest, a gurgly rumble greeted everyone's ears. All eyes turned to Pike, whose face flushed scarlet as she shyly hugged her grumbling stomach.

"Hmm," Reyen mused thoughtfully, an idea forming in her mind, "I think I know just the thing."

#vox machina oc #legend of vox machina #vox machina fanfiction #vox machina fanfic #vox machina #lovm #critical role oc #critical role fanfic #critical role fanfiction #critical role #elf oc #dnd wizard #dnd oc #d&d oc #dnd fanfiction #d&d fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic

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dangan-infinity · 1 year

Text

The Final Volume - Chapter 2 Post

Whether it was harder to find a book that called to you or run from it, you all eventually managed to complete your task. Where the shelves had spun off into infinity before, a familiar red door appeared in one of the aisles. Word spread quickly, and soon you'd all assembled before it. Time to move on, as always.

The handle turned without resistance, and the churning wasteland stretched out before you. Another bridge, another car ahead. Maybe that one would give you some way to end Neko-Neko's game. Was that what you were hoping for? Were you hoping for much of anything, at this point?

Either way, you found yourself passing through without hindrance, the air outside the Train a little warmer on your face.

At least, most of you.

With a faint sound only vaguely reminiscent of slamming into a wall, Jack marched straight into something that bounced him and only him back into the library. He stumbled but stayed on his feet and tried again, a little faster—but the result was the same.

Perhaps it’s Viper’s guilt at burning the checkout register, perhaps it’s something else entirely, but hearing Jac—no, Jagal, trying his hardest to take the books, she knew she had to try and do something. Maybe she didn't know why keeping these books was so important to him—but she could hazard a guess, after they’d snooped so much into his life. His mother, his father, his sister especially… it had to be hard for him. To be forced to think about them again. And once again, she’d messed up someone’s chance at healing.

“Hey—” He bounced back from the door, and she reached forward, just lightly gripping onto his bag. “Jagal—” Maybe he’d listen if she talked to him. The true him, not… Jack. Worm her way in there, she knew it could go very badly. Very, very badly. But equally, she wanted him to understand that she wasn’t out to hurt him. Not at this stage.

Jack warily tugged his bag out of Viper's grip. How did she know his name? Had she—

"...."

No. Absolutely not. It must've just come up somewhere else, at some point. Not like it was his most tightly-guarded secret.

“I don’t think they’ll let ya take ‘em wit’ ya—I-I can ask. But ya prob ain’t gonna be able t’.”

Jimithy stepped up, as unamused as ever.

"Already told both of you, you can't check out a book that doesn't have a register. A real one."

"And you can't leave with a book you haven't checked out. Put it back." He grimaced. "Or on a return cart, fine. But you're not leaving with that. Don't waste any more of our time."

Viper picked at a thread on the end of her glove. “It’s… prob best ya leave ‘em here anyway. I dunno if ya’d want ‘em ta get hurt… damaged…’n all.” Viper raised her gaze to him—having tilted it to the floor. “Look, I’unno if I’ll get anywhere. An’ I know ya gonna try’n act like ya rejectin’ every bit’a niceness. But I wanna know ya. An’ I don’t care how much ya try’n stop me.”

Tag-teamed, huh? It was true, Jack didn't have any registers, and the train out there couldn't be safe for a book unless he never tried to open it. Would being damaged hurt them? Surely not, if they were already dead, but...

"....."

"Fine."

He withdrew a slim volume from under his hoodie and set it gently on the floor. Not even the return cart, huh.

"Not like I'm much 'f a reader, anyway."

He stepped through the door, this time without any kickback—apparently that was the only one he'd had. Those of you who hadn't made it past before all the ruckus followed him out.

Even after all that, it was just back to the usual march. Everyone onto the bridge, onto another door...

Everyone. Right?

The fastest walker had already laid hands on the next door by the time you realized your head count was down one. It didn't take long after, though, to find Jack back at the library doors, propping them open with one hand. He swept a look across you all, hesitating briefly at Viper. But only briefly. With a swift step, he was back on the carpet.

"I'm not leaving her again."

The doors slammed shut before anyone could even think about getting in the way. The handle spun with a ratcheting noise and locked back into place again. Anyone trying to turn it wouldn't succeed.

...Ah. Well.

Considering the party involved, it was hard to feel bad about leaving him behind. A relief, if anything. Though you couldn't be sure exactly how this place worked, if he could still come after you later... Maybe it would have been more of a relief if you were sure he'd die in there.

Not... not that you wanted a person to die! But, well, if it had to be anyone...

"Jack? The game isn't over yet...! I-I can't guide you home if you're not here, nya..."

"Eh, it'd be too obvious if he did the next murder, anyway."

"We're sure the rest of ya can do better by yourselves!"

"B-but there isn't any food or water in that car! As his Stationmaster..."

"That's his own problem. We don't gotta call every single death a murder if it ain't one."

"We've wasted enough time here, don'tcha think? Onward!"

"........"

Despite the particularly split personality at play, Neko-Neko still gestured expectantly at the next car. No more dilly-dallying on your part.

No reason to, anyway. Whether it had locked automatically or Jack was manually blocking it, the library door wasn't about to open. Was it even your business to keep trying? If none of you would be blamed for him choosing this fate, why try to save him? He certainly would've done no such thing for you.

Something still felt rotten in your stomach as you moved forward.

[Forum Post]

#d8plot #d8c2 #d8ex

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nocompromise-noregrets · 2 years

Note

For the WIP game, tell me more about the Elrond and Durin fic! What's it about? Set during the timeline or the show, or before?

Also, rarepair junkie that I am, I am intrigued by Legolas/Haldir. What gave you the idea to put them together?

aaaaa, thank you so much! <33333 I wrote a little bit about the Elrond and Dúrin thing here - it's set during the timeline of season one, or at least the bit I've written so far is. :D It's mostly Elrond musing about his heritage and his friendship with Dúrin, and how Dúrin Gets Him without even trying, whereas 'his own people', particularly Gil-Galad, only see a part of him. I suspect Disa will be turning up before the fic is done. XD

Meanwhile, the Legolas/Haldir thing, about which I am rather excited - I'm writing it from one of the prompts for the tribute collection for Keiliss, which is basically 'Legolas/Haldir in Ithilien', and it's sort of building on a few hints I put in my TRSB2021 fic as my artist Sylanna had asked for a bit of Legolas/Haldir if I could squeeze it in. In a nutshell, Legolas had a bit of a moment with Haldir after the battle of Helm's Deep (in which, as is traditional for me, Haldir DID NOT DIE but was wounded) but didn't get chance to actually talk to him or do anything about it before they all had to leave, and he is very pleasantly surprised when Haldir and his brothers pitch up in Ithilien wanting to join his little colony. It also has a few hints of my series Silent Affinity, in which Rúmil and Éowyn strike up something of a friendship after Helm's Deep, because I can't put them all in Ithilien without those two being friends. :D Here's a snippet of what I've got so far:

Around the middle of our second summer in Ithilien, my little colony receives a small delegation from the Golden Wood, riding slowly along the road that leads from the North; it receives much more traffic now, as we establish ourselves here with supplies from my father’s realm.

Well, I say ‘delegation’. When they draw closer, I realise that it is in fact Haldir, the Marchwarden of the Northern Wood, and his two brothers Orophin and Rúmil. I met the three of them briefly when the Fellowship entered Lothlórien upon our quest, and again at Helm’s Deep when Haldir led the combined forces of Imladris and Lothlórien to our aid; but I do not know them well. The last time I saw them, Orophin and Rúmil were sitting one either side of Haldir’s pallet on the floor of a room in the keep as he lay sorely wounded, cared for along with his injured fellows by the women of Rohan and the others of our people who had survived.

“Mae govannen!” I call to them, dropping out of the tree where I was keeping watch to land upon the road in front of them. “Welcome to Ithilien, mellyn-nín!”

“Mae govannen,” they echo as they draw their horses up before me, and all three of them are smiling.

“What brings you to our little settlement?” I ask, and they exchange a glance, looking at once conflicted, wary and, somehow, free.

“The Lady will sail West before the year is out,” says Haldir, “and the Lord is going to Imladris to live with his grandsons -”

“And keep an eye on them and make sure they don’t bring the place down around their ears,” Rúmil puts in with a merry laugh and Haldir rolls his eyes.

“I think there is more to it than that, gwanûr-nín,” he says mildly. “In any case, the Lady and the Lord gave all of us the choice as to whether we would follow her West or follow him to Imladris. We asked for permission to join you here, if you have need of us.”

I suspect there's going to be a bit of slow-burn yearning-and-pining before Haldir's brothers and Éowyn knock their heads together and make them stop being idiots. :D I'm hoping to get it done in time for the collection opening on the 19th, but we shall see.

Thank you for asking! <333333 if anyone else wants to ask me about any of my WIPs, the list is here.

#ask game #go on #ask me stuff!#my writing

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forays-into-fiction · 2 years

Text

Who’s The Freak Now

You have a crush on him. He can’t stand the sight of you… or so you thought.

I cannot stress this enough minors DO NOT INTERACT, I am serious. This is all filth, just absolute filth. Also, Eddie is a bit OOC but whatever, don’t hate me.

Some content warnings: Hate fucking, Oral (Male Receiving), Finger Sucking, Brief Choking, Degradation, Rough Sex, Dirty Talk, Unprotected Sex kinda, Slight Breeding Kink if you squint, if I’ve missed anything please let me know.

Sitting in the cafeteria you’re vaguely aware of the conversation going around the table amongst your friends, you know you’re being rude but you can’t help it, not when he’s around. To be fair you are getting the general gist of it, ‘something something big game’ ‘something something new cheer routine’. Eddie sits across the room from you talking animatedly and laughing with his friends, sunlight streams in through the window behind him, casting a halo on his glorious mop of curls. You stare at him dreamily, can’t tear your eyes away from him.

He looks up and catches your gaze, his expression falters and twists into a nasty scowl. You look away quickly, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks and your stomach twisting into knots.

Chrissy sidles up closer to you and says softly, “Why don’t you just talk to him?”

She’s the only one you’ve confided in, about your little crush.

“I can’t he hates me, have you seen the way he looks at me… I just can’t, Chrissy.”

“He just doesn’t know you yet, I’m sure if you just give him a chance it’ll all work out.” She smiles encouragingly.

“Yeah, I guess.” You sigh. The bell rings signalling the end of lunch.

You had spent the rest of the day mulling over your friend’s words, somehow convincing yourself that maybe, just maybe she was right. In your last period you resolved to put your plan into action, you were going to find Eddie after class and you were going to talk to him, damn it.

You spot him in the crowded corridor, you push through the throngs of people intent on reaching him. You wave goodbye and smile distractedly at your friends as they bid you farewell when you pass. You almost lose him when you reach the front doors, but then you find him again, strange though he’s not heading towards the parking lot. You follow him a short distance, breaking into a little jog to catch up. Just as you’re building up the courage to call out to him, he suddenly turns a corner into the breezeway between two buildings. Odd, you hesitate a moment before following.

A hand lunges out and grips you by your throat as you’re pushed roughly into the brick wall.

“Why are you following me?” He growls

You can’t help the whimper that escapes your lips as you wince.

“Well?” He prompts, “Your dumb little jock buddies, waiting to jump me or something?”

“W-what, no. I-I just wanted to talk, that’s all.” You stutter in response, thighs clenching together unconsciously.

“Yeah, sure…” he rolls his eyes at you. A moan you’ve been fighting back since he grabbed you, threatens to slip out, you bite your lip.

“Wait a minute, you’re enjoying this.” He laughs eying you up and down. His hand slips away from your throat and lands by your head, braced against the wall as he leans in towards you, you feel his breath ghosting across your skin. His gaze lingers on your lips for a moment before glancing up into your eyes, hesitating briefly giving you a chance to deny.

You have no words, in seconds he’s kissing you fiercely, angrily. Your eyes flutter closed and you melt into him. He tastes of stale cigarettes and something else, something sweet, but surprisingly you find you don’t mind that so much. He captures your lower lip between his teeth, biting hard before pulling away leaving you breathless and dazed.

He leans back in, lips by your ear, “If you wanna continue this, follow me.” He breathes out, turning and walking away casually. You follow after him like a lost puppy, he leads you through the now empty parking lot, to his van. He unlocks the back and climbs in, ducking his head. He turns and sinks down lounging against the back of the front seats. He crooks a finger beckoning you inside, you crawl in after him a little unsure of yourself.

“Strip.” He says curtly.

Your shoes are the first to go, toeing them off one at a time not bothering with the laces. With shaky hands you unbutton your blouse and slide off your skirt and place them to the side. You’re left in just your bra and panties, you thank God above that you’d just happened to throw on a somewhat matching pair this morning. Your hands rise to cover yourself, feeling a little self-conscious.

“Ah, ah, ah none of that. Don’t forget, you wanted this. Let me see what we’re working with.” He admonishes.

You lower your arms clasping them behind your back nervously. “Yeah, that’ll do.” He scoffs.

He removes his outer layers, placing his leather jacket in front of him, “Sit.” He instructs gesturing with a hand. You kneel on top of his jacket, between his spread thighs, eyes downcast you feel a heat rising in your cheeks. He extends a hand and snaps back your bra strap, it stings your skin. He reaches around you to unclasp it, you feel his calloused fingers fumbling for a moment before your bra loosens and begins to fall away. He’s slipping the straps down your arms, removing it completely he tosses it away carelessly. His fingers trail back up your arm then down your chest ever so slowly, your breath hitches as he circles a nipple. He pinches it, painfully twisting and you feel your arousal flood your panties.

He takes his time kneading and pinching and twisting at your breasts before his hands travel lower teasing the top of your panties. He notices the wet patch growing on the front of your crotch, “What a mess you’ve made of yourself.” He palms the front of your clothed pussy and you groan, “Please, m-more...”

He slips a hand beneath the elastic, caressing your mound. Plunging a finger between your drenched folds, collecting your wetness before circling your clit torturously slow. His other hand resumes its assault on your nipple as his fingers enter you, his thumb presses into your clit in clumsy circles while his fingers stretch in a come-hither motion. Your breathing speeds up and you’re moaning wantonly at his ministrations, but then all too quickly he removes his hands. You whine at the loss of contact.

“Such a needy little whore.” He teases, his hand comes away, sticky with your juices, “Open your mouth.” He demands, you find yourself doing so without a thought. Slowly, he slips his digits into your waiting mouth, “Suck.”

You moan around his fingers, tasting yourself on them as he starts to drag them in and out of your mouth.

“I bet you wish this was my dick right now, violating that pretty little mouth of yours, hmm. You wanna be gagging on it don’t ya?”

You nod your head mindlessly, humming in agreement. He chuckles to himself, “Well don’t worry sweetheart, we’ll get there.”

He slips your panties down to your knees as far as they’ll go, “Up.” He instructs with a slap to your thigh.

You yelp and stretch your legs out and he pulls them the rest of the way down, he brings the crotch to his face inhaling deeply, eyes rolling back as he grinds the heel of his hand into the bulge in his pants and groans “I’m keeping these.”

He stuffs them into the pocket of his jeans, “Now, where were we?” He looks back to you. “Ah, that’s right you were gonna suck my cock.”

Smirking devilishly, he unbuckles his belt, you reach out to help, unzipping and pulling his jeans down.

“Ohoho someone’s eager.” He teases, pushing down his boxers, his fat, leaking cock springs out bouncing against his stomach, dribbling on his shirt.

You lean forward, bracing yourself with your hands against his thighs, you give a tentative lick along the underside of his length, tracing a bulging vein all the way to the tip before closing your mouth around it. Giving an experimental suck, you look up at him through your lashes, his head is thrown back against the seats, eyes closed. He reaches out and fists a hand into your hair slowly pushing you down on his length.

“Oh, that’s it. Such a good little slut.”

True to his word you are gagging, your eyes begin to water and drool runs down your chin. Using the hand in your hair as leverage he’s guiding your head up and down. His hips canting upwards shallowly he drops the hand from your head and you continue bobbing up and down at the same pace. You grind against his leg desperately searching for friction.

“And they call me the freak, just look at you,” he scoffs “Imagine if your precious little friends could see you like this, all cockdrunk and oh so desperate. Rubbing up on me like a fucking cat in heat.”

He wraps a hand around your throat to feel his cock moving inside, the vibrations of your moaning going straight through him. You feel him twitching on your tongue before he’s pulling you off of him roughly. You’re gasping for air as he takes a second to admire you, your face a mess of drool and precum and tears.

In a heartbeat, he’s flipped you over onto your back. He pulls his shirt over his head and tosses it aside, kneeling between your thighs, he lines up the weeping head of his cock with your entrance. He drags the flared tip between your folds, teasing your clit, shocks of pleasure jolt through you. “Please, Eddie.” You whine grasping at his shoulders.

“Please, what sweetheart. Use your words.” He says condescendingly.

“Fuck…” you moan clenching your eyes shut tightly, “please, fuck me.”

He grabs your face harshly, “Ah ah, eyes open, I won’t have you pretending I’m someone else. You wanted this, you wanted me. Don’t forget that.”

You wrench open your eyes, he’s glaring down at you in disdain as he plunges into your wet heat, your walls stretch to accommodate him with a slight burn. You claw at his back, panting as you adjust to his size while he thrusts away with little regard for your comfort. He pulls almost all the way out, lingering with just the head soaking in your wetness before slamming back in harshly. Tears well in your eyes once more, he swipes his thumb through them collecting the glistening beads. He brings his thumb to his mouth licking them away, “What’s the matter sweetheart? Can’t stand that it’s me making you feel like this. The freak.” He sneers down at you, “I know what you and your friends say about me, how you look at me.”

You struggle to find the words, head too clouded to string together a sentence, “N-no.” You manage softly.

He continues his tirade through his broken moans, panting above you, “Spoilt little rich girl, so high and mighty hngh…”

“…too good for the likes of me… except mhhh…”

“…except you’re not, are you, look at you now,” his breath is hot on your face as he leans in, “‘cause you were begging me to fuck you, ME.” He accentuates this with a deep thrust.

“‘m not.” You mumble back at him.

“What’s that sweetheart? You’re not, what?” His trademark scowl plastered across his face, hips falling into a steady roll.

“I’m not too good.” You all but sob out, “I do want you… have for a while. You’re not a freak… n-never said you were.”

His hips stutter to a halt, expression softening in confusion, “W-wait, what?”

“In case it escaped your notice, I like you, Eddie. Always have. Why do you think I’m always staring at you like some dumb lovesick puppy?”

“No, you don’t. Don’t lie to me.” His voice cracks.

You pull him in by the back of his neck, pressing your lips to his pouring your heart and soul into this one kiss. Your hand moves to cup his cheek gently, when you pull away his lips follow for a moment, “I do though.” You whisper.

He stares back at you in awe, you press your hips up into his breaking him out of his reverie.

“Fuuuuck-” He sighs pressing his forehead to yours, “You’ve no idea what you do to me, sweetheart.”

“Then show me.” You reply.

He pulls away raising a hand to run it through your hair gently, tucking it behind your ear. His hips resume their motion as his arms envelope you, pulling your torso up from the hard floor of his van, supporting your weight.

“God, you’re beautiful, d’ya know how beautiful you are?”

“Eddie…” you whine turning your head, you should be well past any embarrassment by now, but something about his words sets butterflies aflutter in your chest.

He grasps your chin between his thumb and forefinger, turning you to face him, “Eyes on me, sweetheart. Wanna watch you as you come apart on my cock.” All bite and malice from before have dissipated, but he still has such a foul mouth.

“Faster, please. ‘m sooo close.” You keen.

“With pleasure, sweetheart.” He grins back at you.

You’re barely holding it together, gushing around him as he pummels away, his sac heavy with cum slapping against your ass. Sounds of skin on skin, wet squelching and your combined moaning filling the air as the van rocks beneath you.

“Oh God,” he moans “’m not gonna last much longer… where d’ya want it?”

“Inside.”

His eyes screw shut and his head drops to his chest, hips still pistoning away “Ffffuuck… mn I can’t ‘m not wearing anything… we can’t…”

“’s ok” you rush to reassure him, “I’ve got… I’m on birth control.”

You lock your legs together behind him, drawing him in closer, deeper with a whine, “Please, Eddie. Please cum inside me.”

He drops a hand to your clit, rubbing furious circles against it. White hot pleasure courses through your body, before you know it his hips have stilled, buried deep in your cunt. You feel his balls drawing up tight against you as his cock twitches painting your walls as they flutter around him, milking his cock for all its worth. Starbursts of light dancing in the edges of your vison. He holds you like that for a moment, before slipping out, you can feel your combined fluids leaking out and pooling beneath you onto his jacket. He reaches over for his discarded shirt and uses it to clean you up, wiping between your shaky legs.

He rolls off you and to the side, “Well that was…” he begins with a lopsided grin.

“Oh god, oh no…” he grimaces, pressing his face into his hands, “I was horrible to you, I shouldn’t have… we shouldn’t… oh god I’m so sorry- “

“No, it’s ok… I uh kinda liked it?” Your voice tinged with uncertainty it comes out more like a question.

He groans deeply, “Oh god, it’s like you were made for me. My perfect little slut.”

You bite your lip, something inside you stirs at his words, “So, ummm do you wanna go out for dinner sometime or something?”

“Are you kidding me right now?” He gapes at you.

“Well, I mean the whole point of me approaching you was to talk, maybe ask you out, but someone had to get all… all...” you wave a hand around, searching for the right words, “Well safe to say this is not how I expected today to go.” You huff, crossing your arms over your chest.

He chuckles and nudges your shoulder, “No need to pout, sweetheart. And yes, I’ll take you out for a proper date next time.”

#eddie x reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fic

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katelynnwrites · 3 years

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pairing: Ona Batlle x f!Reader

warnings: smut, mention of injury and lots of sad feels

word count: 1682

summary: ona needs you to make her feel better after losing the derby, part one of I Adore You

a/n: did you see the way her whole body slumped after the last goal went in. she looked so utterly defeated…

Manchester Derby

From the stands, you watch as Ona becomes more and more frustrated as the game goes on.

Their early lead had been lost and it had been a cruel ten minutes for Ona who, despite trying her best, had let three goals in.

When Bunny Shaw scored the final goal, Ona put her head in her hands, trying to keep her tears at bay.

She hated conceding goals, hated losing and especially hated losing Manchester derbies. To lose two in such a short period of time…

The final few minutes of the game go by and when the whistle blows, Ona makes her way to the stands.

‘You did good babe.’ Your words are genuine but the Spanish girl sniffles.

‘Please don’t. Please I just, I-I have to go thank the fans.’ Ona abruptly pulls her hand from yours and you watch heart aching for her as she slowly goes over to them.

******

Ona’s silent the whole drive back to your shared apartment but as soon as the door shuts behind the two of you, she grabs your arms, placing them beside her head and effectively making you pin her to the wall.

‘Ona?’ You glance at her, worry evident in your voice.

Her brown eyes are sparkling with tears but she shakily breathes, ‘I need it rough.’

‘What?’

Ona swallows with some difficulty.

‘I need you. I need you to take me hard.’

‘Ona…’

‘Please. I need to feel something, anything other than this. I need you to make me feel.’ She begs, a single tear slipping out of her eye.

‘I love you Ona but this, you’re vulnerable right now. You’re not thinking straight.’ You hesitantly say.

Your girlfriend was clearly hurting and having sex let alone the rough sex she was asking of you, felt like you were taking advantage of her.

‘I am. Please I need this. Please….’

You stare at her, conflict clear in your expression.

Another tear falls down Ona’s cheek and you tilt your head up briefly, wondering if what you were about to do was right.

‘Okay. Okay, just remember your safe word mi amor.’ You carefully wipe away the tear and Ona nods quickly.

That’s all you need before shoving her against the opposite wall, making Ona let out a loud gasp.

‘Please.’ She softly whispers and you kiss her hard.

Running your fingers through her hair, you tug on it none too gently. Ona moans, her hands coming up to your waist, only for you to push them back down at her sides.

She blinks but you don’t give her time to do much else as you turn her head to the side, kissing and sucking your way down her neck.

Your hand finds itself under her jersey and you scrape your fingernails across her toned stomach, eliciting a whimper from her lips.

Nipping at her ear lobe, Ona feels herself growing wet as you pull her clothes off. They’re unceremoniously discarded on the floor and you flick her nipple.

Ona’s breathing increases rapidly and you pinch at her nipples until she lets out a pained whine.

Even then you don’t relent, squeezing her breast hard.

‘Tell me what you want.’ Your voice is harsh and Ona whimpers again.

‘Your fingers. Put them in me.’

‘Get on the bed!’

Ona flinches but does as you tell her.

Taking the chance to rid yourself of your own clothes, you climb on top of her.

Ona moans again as you pull her into a bruising kiss. Your grip on her arms would surely leave marks but she couldn’t bring herself to care.

Your body weight on top of her makes her clit throb and she groans.

You push her harder against the bed, pulling her knees apart.

All the Spanish girl could do was moan as she lay on her back, core flooding with arousal.

Pushing two fingers into her, you set a fast pace and Ona lets out a loud moan of mixed pleasure and pain.

The sudden stretch hurt and but Ona finds herself getting wetter as you continue to fuck her roughly.

‘You’re so fucking wet.’ You mutter, pulling your fingers out with a filthy noise.

Ona whines at the sudden feeling of emptiness but opens her mouth accordingly when you hold your fingers near it.

‘Taste yourself.’ You command, moaning softly yourself when you feel her sucking them clean.

Ona spreads her knees wider, moaning as you drag your fingernails across her back.

You bite down gently on her shoulder, not hard enough to break skin but enough for small pricks of pain to be felt by the girl beneath you.

Shoving your fingers back into her soaking pussy, Ona whimpers.

Despite how wet she was, taking three of your fingers was still a bit of a stretch and tears stream down her face as she throws her head back in pleasure.

‘Please add another! I-I need more!’ Ona stutters, wincing when you give her exactly what she asks for.

‘Such a needy girl. I can feel you squeezing around me, so desperate to come. Do you want me to make you come? Do you want me to make you feel good?’

Your hot breath right next to her ear makes her give a little gasp.

‘Yes!’

Too quickly for her to register, you switch positions, straddling her face.

Your fingers are still pumping in and out of her but you slow down, making her whine. You press your thumb against her swollen bud and Ona moans.

Lowering your pussy against her face, you groan as she eagerly wraps her lips around your clit.

You grind your hips down, using her tongue for your pleasure.

Ona doesn’t mind, in fact it makes her even wetter. She loves eating you out, loves the little gasps and moans that you try to suppress. More than that, she loves the taste of you on her tongue and right now, the feeling of you completely owning her makes her cunt practically soak the sheets.

Your thighs tremble around her face, more and more of your body weight being placed on her. Ona feels you pressing your pussy onto her face and moans, sucking your bud into her mouth.

The Spanish girl licks up your juices, not minding the fact that she can’t really breathe. Your cunt tastes far too good for her to stop.

Between the pleasure she’s getting from giving you oral and your fingers sliding in and out of her, it’s all getting a bit too much.

Somehow you must sense this because you climb off her, taking a moment to recover. You were so close to coming but you had to make sure you took care of Ona first.

Ona whimpers, pulling you out of your daze.

Her knees are still spread, folds swollen and glistening. Your girlfriend’s chest rises and falls, eyes pleading for you.

‘So desperate.’ You mutter, making Ona moan again.

Sliding your fingers back into her, you set a brutal pace making Ona cry out. She stuffs her fist into her mouth, little moans and whimpers still escaping. Her cunt is aching and every brush of your fingers is sending a wave of pleasure with an edge of pain through her body.

Using your free hand, you dig your nails into the inside of her thigh, creating little red crescents.

Ona rocks back and forth onto your fingers, in time with your thrusts as she lets out soft grunts and moans.

You can tell she’s close, walls fluttering around your fingers, drawing them in.

The Spanish girl cries out again and you wind your fingers through her hair, tugging on it hard. The little pinpricks of pain cause her to whimper, tears spilling down her cheeks again.

‘Fucking come. Come for me Ona. Like the needy little girl that you are.’

Ona sobs, crashing over the edge, hands frantically grabbing onto the sheets.

Despite the ache in your wrist, you continue thrusting your fingers into her until her back arches off the bed as she comes hard for a second time.

Ona cries even harder, everything becoming too much for her. Her head is fuzzy, the only thing she can hear is you murmuring dirty words to her.

You roll her nipple between your fingers, pinching it roughly and making her seize up with her third orgasm of the night.

Her eyes squeeze shut as she tries to breathe. It’s all too much, her lungs aren’t getting enough oxygen and she panics.

‘Red! Red! Red!’

You stop immediately, pulling your girlfriend into your arms as she gasps, choking on her tears.

‘Baby…’

Stroking her hair, you rock her back and forth gently as she sobs.

There’s nothing more you can do except hold her tightly, reassuring her that you’re not leaving and that she was gonna be okay until she cries herself to sleep.

******

Ona wakes up sometime in the night to find that you’d curled yourself protectively around her. She blinks, realising that she’s wearing one of your sweatshirts. The soft material was warm and comforting, the smell of you even more so.

She shifts a bit, feeling something on her ankle.

Touching it, Ona feels her heart ache. You’d wrapped her ankle, taping it up neatly when you noticed it was slightly swollen. Probably from the knock she’d taken that had resulted in Stanway’s yellow card.

‘Te amo.’ She whispers, pressing a long slow kiss to your forehead.

She doesn’t remember you putting clothes on her or taping her ankle but she does remember the way you’d held her close as she broke down.

She’d never felt safer than when she was with you. You always made her feel like she could be herself around you, freely express her emotions.

‘Hey, you okay?’ You sleepily ask, stirring awake when you feel her moving around.

‘I’m okay.’ She kisses you gently and you hum, wrapping your arm around her waist.

Ona sighs contentedly, happy to be here in your arms. Her last coherent thought before she falls back asleep was how lucky she was to have you.

Spanish Translations:

mi amor - my love

te amo - i love you

#ona batlle #ona batlle x reader #ona batlle imagine #muwfc x reader #muwfc imagine #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso fanfiction #espwnt imagine #espwnt x reader #woso smut #smut #katelynnwrites #may be triggering

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looooooooomis · 3 years

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FINAL GIRL | FIVE

You were his final girl. And there was no chance in hell that anyone or anything was going to mess that up.

p a r t five | t h e c a b i n (part I)

masterlist here

pairing: Billy Loomis x f!reader word count: 5.6k (I’M SORRY I GOT CARRIED AWAY) warnings: s m u t (18 +!!!!!)

A/N: after 8 months of MIA, SHE’S BACK BABY!!! this is part 1 of 2 of our fav couple being at the cabin x next chapter will have soft moments I promise lmao

You should have been paying more attention.

If you’d been paying more attention, you wouldn’t have had five sets of eyes currently watching your every move, waiting for an answer you didn’t have. Why had you thought it was a good idea to stay up as late as you had packing your overnight bag for the cabin? If you had gone to bed at a reasonable hour, you wouldn’t have been as braindead as you currently were and, if you hadn’t been braindead, you wouldn’t have wound up in whatever ring of hell you were currently stuck in as your friends stared at you as though you’d grown a second head.

You pleaded with your tongue to say anything, pleaded for your brain to register a decent enough lie to make this uncomfortable silence end but nothing came out of your mouth. Only a pathetic hum and a gusto of forced laughter.

You wanted to die.

It should have been an easy enough answer to what was an even easier question. One that you’d practiced answering for the last two days and yet, as the moment for the lie came and went, you were left scrambling like a fucking moron.

You didn’t dare look at Billy as Sid curled into his side knowing if you managed to catch his coffee-coloured stare, you’d only be met with something between terror and amusement as you royally shit the bed. So, instead, you did the next best thing. You replayed the question over and over again in your head until you were driven mad.

‘Are you up for a movie this weekend?’

It was a simple enough question, one you’d managed to decline easily enough but, as Tatum frowned and asked the one question you were expecting to hear, your mind went blank.

‘Why? What are you doing?’

The answer you were supposed to say: I have to babysit my cousin in Santa Rosa all weekend. The answer they got? Silence. Pure, awkward as fuck, silence.

“Earth to Y/N,” Tatum laughed, brows furrowing. “Are you alive?”

“Sorry,” you huffed out a quiet laugh and shook your head, “I barely slept last night, I’m braindead.”

While it wasn’t a lie, you were still on edge. You’d think after months of sneaking around with the asshole sitting in front of you that you would have chilled out a little more but not today. Maybe it was the nerves of a full weekend away with Billy Loomis as his girlfriend hosted a fucking movie night sans her boyfriend and best friend – but something was making you stumble over what should have been second nature to you.

“You feeling okay?” Sid, the angel she was, asked with a small frown. Your stomach twisted in the familiar way it always did when your sweet friend showed concern. Concern which you most definitely didn’t deserve. “You seem…off.”

It would have been so easy to confess your dark little twisted affair with Billy right then and there. To just open your mouth and let the truth of everything you’d been doing behind her back play out. But you knew it would break her heart and, more than that, you were a fucking coward.

“I’m fine, Sid,” you smacked on a small smile and leaned into your locker. You had one more class until you were home free. Free of your friends’ inquiring eyes, free of Biology, free of Woodsboro. If you managed to get through this incredibly uncomfortable moment. “And I would if I could, trust me. I have to babysit my little cousin in Santa Rosa.” You feigned disappointment with a small frown. You could see Stu’s lips tug up in mild amusement out of the corner of your eye. “She’s nine, so if I don’t come back on Monday, know that she annoyed me to death.”

Randy scoffed and casually threw his arm around your neck. “Every day I’m thankful I don’t have any snot-nosed kids in my family. Losing my weekend to babysit? I’d rather rot.”

Despite your guilt, you managed a small smile as you looked across at him. “I think the kid would rather you rot, too. You’d be a terrible babysitter.”

“She’s right,” Tatum smirked, “you’d show the kid one of your weirdo movies where a girl with big tits is running helplessly away from her killer. It’d scar the kid for life.”

“Or,” Randy mused, “prepare them for the real world. Put some hair on their chest and all that shit.”

“Furthering my point, Meeks, you’d be a shit babysitter.” You laughed. “But, yeah, I’ll be suffering at the hands of a nine-year-old, so you guys have fun without me.”

“How about you, lover boy?” Tatum asked, looking across at Billy. “Will you be joining us this weekend?”

You should have averted your eyes. Should have done anything besides wait, with bated breath, to see what Billy would say. Slowly, those brown eyes tapered over towards you just briefly before looking at Tatum. With a casual shrug of his shoulders, Billy shook his head and leaned into Sid. “Can’t,” he merely said, “I’m going up north with my dad. He wants to get some of his affairs in order or something, I don’t know.” He ran a hand through his hair. “All I know is I was promised free beer if I helped him. So, I’m helping him.”

If Sid caught onto his lie, her face didn’t betray her once. And, as she looked up at her boyfriend with doting eyes, you couldn’t help but feel that pang of shame slice into your gut once again. She believed him. She always believed him. Believed you. Regardless of how good it felt to have Billy, that shame of knowing just who it was unwittingly hurting in the process never dissipated.

“You sure you guys won’t need help?” Sid asked, further digging that knife of shame into your chest. “Besides this movie, I’ve got nothing else going on this weekend.”

“Real nice,” Randy teased. “She’d rather watch Billy’s dad punch away at a fucking calculator then sit down with her nearest and dearest.”

Billy ignored Randy entirely as he glanced down at the brunette. “I’m sure,” he affirmed, giving her a quick squeeze. “Enjoy the movie night. I’ll be there for the next one.”

He lied so effortlessly, so casually, that it should have unnerved you. But it didn’t. Because for as good of a liar Billy Loomis was, you were right here with him. This dangerous little game the two of you were playing was becoming second nature to you and for as much as it pained you to see Sidney get lied to, you couldn’t help yourself.

You loved Billy. Billy loved you. Right person, wrong time. Only rather than wait like you knew you should have, Billy’s glow was much too enthralling to miss. You were both moths to each other’s’ flames and no amount of guilt or shame was strong enough to outweigh the otherworldly affliction the two of you had for one another.

The bell signifying your final class rung out, snapping you out of your brief reverie as you blinked and focused on pushing Randy off of you. “Want to drive me to the bus station?” You asked him. “I don’t want to drive all the way to Santa Rosa, so I bought a bus ticket.”

“Tonight?” Randy considered it briefly before shrugging. “Sure, I guess. I’ve got a shift tonight at seven, though. When’s your bus leave?”

“Six thirty,” you lied, mainly doing this so that should anyone drive by your house this weekend and see your car still neatly parked in your driveway, they wouldn’t bat an eye. “I owe you.”

“Yeah, you do,” Randy agreed. “And, lucky for you, I accept a lot of different payment options.” He wriggled his brows, earning a playful smack from you and an annoyed glare from Billy. Thankfully, Randy didn’t catch onto the latter. “Pick you up at six?”

You nodded. “Perfect.”

With your eyes flickering to Billy’s once more, you managed to shoot everyone a quick smile before disappearing down the hall towards Biology. Just how you’d managed to dance your way out of what could have been an incredibly awkward moment, you didn’t know. But as you felt that weighty stare of Billy’s on your back as you walked away, there was an air of excitement that swallowed you whole.

No matter how much guilt you felt, no matter how sick it made you to see Sidney get hurt, even if she didn’t quite know about just yet, there was a much larger part of you that couldn’t wait to get Billy alone.

Because for the first time in the seven months since you’d started this torrid little affair, you were finally getting Billy all to yourself. No prying eyes, no secret kisses, no having to hide every part of your relationship with the man. None of that.

This weekend, it was you and it was Billy.

And you couldn’t fucking wait.

»»-------------¤-------------««

Randy, being the superstar he was, had dropped you off at the station a little after six-fifteen and by six-thirty-two, just around the time the actual bus was leaving for Santa Rosa, you were scrambling into Billy’s car with a wild grin on your face.

Just how the pair of you had managed to pull it off, especially given your brain lapse earlier in the day, was beyond you. But, as Billy tore off down the main street leading to the freeway, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of freedom engulf you the farther and farther you got from town.

It was exhilarating.

And, as you glanced at Billy, who couldn’t have looked more like a movie star with his dark locks blowing with the wind cascading in through his open window, you couldn’t help but reach across the divide to gently squeeze his jean-clad thigh.

“Thank you,” you found yourself muttering and as those brown eyes met yours, you couldn’t help but grin. “For your stupid key proposal. In hindsight, it was very sweet.”

The dimple in Billy’s cheek deepened as his own grin grew. “Glad you let me steal you away?”

You loosened your seatbelt momentarily and leaned across to give him a kiss on the cheek. “Very glad.” You made a move to pull away but stopped when he gently grabbed your chin with the hand not holding the wheel. “What—”

The kiss, while dangerously stupid, was short and sweet but the emotion behind it, the genuine happiness that exuded out of Billy in those few seconds was palpable. “I really do fucking love you, you know that?”

“You’ve mentioned it,” you hummed and slinked back into your seat. When his large hand found your thigh, he gave it a firm squeeze that sent shockwaves throughout your whole body.

“Not going to say it back?” He teased, giving you a sidelong glance as he drew nearer to the freeway.

“I’d rather show it.” Rather than put your seatbelt back on, you shimmed in your seat and leaned into him as your fingers scraped along his thighs towards the button of his jeans. “Eyes on the road, Loomis.”

Easier said than done, Billy thought, torn between watching the road and watching you unzip his jeans. Raising his ass out of the seat just long enough to allow you to tug his pants down his thighs, the second Billy saw yours eyes light up as his now somewhat erect cock sprung free of his jeans, keeping his eyes on the road seemed impossible. But, the second he saw that pretty mouth of yours perk up in anticipation, it was game over. “Are you trying to get us killed?”

A low chuckle escaped your lips as you began to pump his length with your hand. “Focus on the road, Billy.”

“You say that like it’s easy.” Not being able to keep his hands off of you, he reached for your nipple and gave it a pinch through your shirt. “Take your shirt off, baby.”

“Shut up and drive.” You chided him, shimming in your seat so that you were on your knees leaning over the console. His cock was rock hard now and, as you ran your tongue alongside his length, from the base of it all the way up to coax your tongue along the precum that had gathered along his head, you felt him shiver beneath you.

“Fuck,” he hissed, tangling his fingers through your hair. You were too fucking good with that mouth of yours.

Still pumping the base of his cock with one hand, you swirled your tongue along the tip of his dick again before taking that perfectly girthy cock in your mouth. His grip tightened on your hair and your eyes watered as he pushed your head down to fully take the length of him inside of your mouth. He heard you gag on him but even as his grip eased up, you continued your pursuit of deepthroating him.

His breathing was shallow as he felt your hot mouth all over him. Between the sounds of your wet mouth taking him in and the occasional gag as you choked on his length, Billy was in heaven.

But having you this close as you fucked him with your mouth whilst still fully clothed was killing him. He needed to feel you. He wanted to feel your juices on his fingers and running down those perfect fucking thighs as he fingerfucked you. He wanted to hear you moan, feel you moan on his cock as he made you feel as good as you were making him feel.

He wanted all of you, needed all of you.

Trying his damnedest not to shut his eyes as your mouth brought him closer to the edge, he reached beneath you to work on your own zipper but when that proved to be impossible, a frustrated growl tore out of his lips. “Undo your pants.” He hissed through bared teeth.

You hummed against his dick which nearly sent him into the other land of traffic. “No,” you purred, “I want to make you feel good.”

With one hand on the wheel and the other now gliding up and down your back as you fucked him with your mouth, Billy couldn’t help but buck into your mouth as you began to massage his balls. He was going to bust and soon if he wasn’t careful.

You were too fucking good and he was too fucking in love with you not to get lost in the way you made him feel.

“Touch yourself, at least,” he breathed out, desperate to see that pretty cunt. “Please, baby.”

Not granting him the satisfaction, you simply dug your nails into his thighs and moaned onto his cock and the sensation of it alone was almost enough to make him come down your throat. It seemed to slither around his cock, making him twitch and buck into your mouth.

But it was the second you moaned out his name as you swirled your wet mouth along the head of his dick one final time, swallowing back his precum with a contented hum, that Billy blew his loud inside of your mouth.

For a good five seconds, he didn’t care if he crashed the goddamn car as he watched you swallow his seed. He was bucking into your mouth, his breathing was ragged, as you guzzled him back and, as you finally released his cock with a pop, Billy almost lost it.

With a devilish grin, you simply wiped a finger along the edge of your lips and leaned back into your seat with a satisfied glimmer in your eyes. You knew you’d be in for it once he got his hands on you at the cabin, but for now, as you watched him lamely try and pull his jeans up his body to cover his slowly softening cock, you couldn’t help but laugh.

“What’s the matter, Billy?” You teased, fastening your seatbelt back up. “You look a little rattled.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he simpered, not bothering with the zipper or button of his jeans. Instead, he reached across the divide and grabbed for your hand as he ghosted his lips across your knuckles. “Just wait until we get to the cabin.”

With your suspicions confirmed, you couldn’t help but beam across at him as you drove further and further away from Woodsboro. That was definitely a threat and good god were you excited for its execution.

»»-------------¤-------------««

By the time you’d pulled into the Loomis family cabin, it was pitch black outside.

The moon was too high in the sky and only a sliver of its light poked through the tall pine trees that surrounded the small house but, even with the low light surrounding you, the shadows that danced along the lake was enough to bring out a small smile as you quietly made your way out of the car. You didn’t need full sun to see the beauty surrounding you and the smell of the fresh air mixed with the spice of pine made any ounce of nerves filter out of you.

You were happy.

Unreservedly so.

Glancing across the roof towards Billy, he seemed almost distracted as he looked around at the familiar surroundings. You couldn’t quite tell if he was feeling as happy as you were in those brief moments, but you couldn’t quite blame him for that. The cabin held a lot of memories within it, many of which you knew included his mother. Where you felt freed and excited, you could tell the weight of his current whereabouts was heavy on his shoulders.

“Hey,” you muttered, slicing into the quietude around you. Walking around the front of the car, those brown eyes found yours as you circled your arms around his middle. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” he assured, but his voice was low and distant. All the same, however, his strong arms enveloped you as he kissed your hairline. “Lost in a memory, I guess.”

You nodded into the crook of his neck but said nothing. He needed time to decompress, to familiarize himself with a house he hadn’t been in since his mother left. So, you’d give him that time.

For what must have been minutes, the two of you simply stood at the helm of porch holding onto one another. It wasn’t until Billy placed another quick kiss to your forehead that you felt his arms slowly fall only to grasp your hand in his own. “Come on,” he hummed. His grip on your hand was firm as he walked up the steps leading to the wrap around porch and as he stuck the key inside of the lock and opened the front door, the smell of cedar surrounded you.

The cabin was gorgeous. Wooden slats covered every square inch of the small house and a small fireplace sat at the front of the house with a worn-in couch and chair facing it. It was obvious nobody had come to visit for quite some time judging by the dust lining most of the countertops and shelving units, but you didn’t care.

To you, it was perfect.

Your own little oasis with the boy you loved without any sort of outside interruption.

You released his hand to take a brief look around the small living space but you could feel his eyes on you with every step you took. You knew he was looking to get even with you after your little stunt in the car, but you also knew that he hadn’t quite been expecting the swell of emotions to hit him upon driving up to the cabin. So, you continued to wander around the cabin to both grant him the space he may or may not have needed and, simply, to snoop around.

There were family pictures lining the tables and one in particular made you smile as you caught sight of a young Billy swinging from a tire swing. With a quiet laugh, you picked the frame up and surveyed it with a fond smile on your lips. “Cute,” you remarked, looking across to catch his stare. “A little model, eh?”

Billy watched you carefully place the frame down on the table before continuing on with your self-guided tour. No matter how hard he tried, regardless of the bittersweet memories swirling around inside of his brain, he couldn’t take his eyes off of you. Not that he ever really could, but there was an ease rolling off of you tonight, coming off of you in waves, that drew him in.

“I’ve been thinking about this all week, you know that?” He remarked, leaning against the back of the couch as he watched you pick up another picture frame. “Just me and you. Out here alone in the woods for an entire weekend.”

“Sounds like a scary movie when you put it that way,” you goaded with a wink. “Or a really niche porno.”

“Why not a bit of both?” His molasses coloured eyes glimmered mischievously as you walked up to him and stepped between his legs. The second you were close, he pulled you flush against his chest and kissed the tip of your nose as he pushed your hair back and away from your face. “Both could be fun.”

You grinned. “I’m down for anything,” you shrugged. “So long as you promise to take me on an actual date tomorrow. We’re not just fucking like bunnies inside of the cabin all weekend.”

“Heaven forbid,” he leaned in and gave you a slow, torturous kiss.

“I’m serious, Billy,” you moaned.

Pulling away from your mouth, Billy nudged his nose against yours and nodded. “The entire population in Bumfuck, California will know you’re my girl by the end of the weekend,” he avowed, skimming his hands down to your ass to give it a firm squeeze. “I promise.”

“Oh, yeah?” You hummed, kissing him again.

His calloused hands slipped beneath your shirt and scraped up your side. “Yeah.” Digging his hips into yours, he gave you one last kiss before nodding towards the bedroom. “Take your clothes off.”

You giggled as he slapped your ass to steer you down the narrow hallway. “And if I don’t?”

“I’ll rip them off of you,” he simply said, “so either they remain in one piece or I ruin your outfit.”

You glanced down at your jeans and tank before frowning. You looked cute tonight and you’d be damned if the bastard ripped them. So, being the good girl you were, you held his stare and slowly slinked out of your clothes. His eyes seemed so much darker as he watched you strip and the small smirk he wore slowly fell into a hungry thin line as you then perched yourself on the edge of the bed, completely nude.

“You just going to stand there looking pretty or are you going to do something about this?” You slipped your fingers between your thighs and ran your fingers along your swollen clit. A low moan slipped out of your lips at the sensation. “I’m already so wet for you, Billy.”

Slowly, Billy stepped towards you and undid his belt. Leaning down, he kissed you, hard, and steered you backwards on the bed beneath you until your head reached the soft pillows. You could feel his cock straining against his jeans but rather than grant himself any sort of reprieve, you watched him gently grasp your hands and raise them above your head only to wrap his belt around your wrists.

In the blink of an eye, you were tied to the bedposts.

“Is this payback for the car blowie?” You laughed, looking up at your restrained wrists. “If it is, I can’t say I’m mad about it.”

“You wanted something between a horror movie and a niche porno, remember?” He hummed against your skin, placing sloppy kisses along the vein that ran along your neck as he pinched your nipple. “God, you’re fucking perfect. You know that?”

He bit down on your collarbone, kissing his way down your chest until his warm mouth wrapped around your nipple. You could feel his teeth slither along your breast as his tongue lapped expertly on the sensitive bud. You hissed, arching into his mouth as your wrists, on instinct, fought for freedom. “Hardly.”

His eyes met yours as he slowly released your nipple. You were in nothing, of course, but he was still fully clothed, and you hated him for it. You hungrily eyed the bulge in his jeans as he propped himself up on his arm, letting his other hand glide up your chest and neck until it cupped your cheek. His nose brushed against yours, nudging it up to allow his lips to hover just over yours. Close enough that you could almost taste them, but much too far away to satisfy the hunger you had for the man.

“I love you,” he whispered, thumb stroking the apple of your cheek as his warm, brown eyes swallowed you up. “You know that, right?”

“Yes,” you swallowed hard and tilted your head up just enough to finally catch his lips. But, just as quickly as it happened, the man pulled away and let his hand begin to roam down your body. His mouth was at your ear now, nibbling at your earlobe as his hot breath slithered against your neck. You shivered. “I love you, too.”

His voice was gruff in your ear. “I’d kill for you,” his hand continued its journey down your throat, brushing past your nipple, down the length of your stomach until reaching the small smattering of hair along your mound. He was careful to keep his hands from dipping any lower, tormenting you as best to his ability, which just about killed you, if you were being honest. “You know that?”

Bucking your hips up, you nearly growled at the lack of attention you were receiving. You were soaked and touch-starved for him. His fingers, his mouth, the erection currently poking into your thigh, anything. “I wouldn’t ask you to do that,” you managed a quiet laugh. “But I appreciate it.”

His teeth bit down on your neck again. “But, I would. I’d do anything for you, sweetheart.”

His hand slipped further down to your sopping cunt and as he slowly slipped his fingers through your wet folds, the moan he got in return nearly killed him. “Billy,” you whispered desperately. It felt as though you were going to die if you didn’t feel him inside of you. “Please.”

His lips hovered over yours and on instinct, you caught his bottom lip between your teeth and bucked your hips against his hand. He snarled as you bit down on his lip but as the metallic taste of blood met his tongue, it was as though Billy was transcending. His pace on your clit quickened but it was still too slow for you and he knew it. He was torturing you, killing you, and he was enjoying every second of it. Struggling against the belt, your struggle was all for naught as it didn’t so much as move an inch.

“You’d love me, no matter what, right?” He asked, slipping one of his fingers inside of you as he kissed his way down to your chest. Lapping at your nipple, Billy was gentle at first before biting down hard enough to draw blood. Tit for Tat.

“Yes,” you moaned. Your entire body was on fire as his fingers brought you closer to the edge. “But I’d love you even more if you fucked me. You’re killing me, Loomis.”

Licking up the small trail of blood off of your tits, Billy hummed against your nipple and added another finger inside of your pussy. He’d fuck you soon but right now, he needed to feel your entire body light up the way it always had when he drove you into that fit of madness. You were a woman unhinged in the bedroom, he knew as much, and he knew exactly how to get that animal inside of you out.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he admired, reaching his hand up to coat your tit in your own slick. When it was sufficiently wet, he licked your juices off of your breast and growled. God, you tasted so fucking good. “You’re my girl, Y/N, you’re always going to be my girl, right?”

You looked up at him as those words fell from his lips. His brown hair hung down his forehead, his neck red from the strain of having to watch you writhe beneath him without doing a damned thing about it. But what struck you was the look of vulnerability in those brown eyes. That longing, far-away look as his eyes searched yours.

He wanted nothing more than to hear you say that you wanted him. Needed him. Just as much as he needed you.

“Always,” the answer tumbled out of your lips before you so much as thought twice. “I’m your girl, Billy.”

His mouth caught yours in a bruising kiss. Finally, his pace quickened inside of you as met your throbbing core with his dept fingers. With his thumb circling your clit, he dipped two fingers inside of you and grinned against your mouth as you let out a low, desperate moan.

It happened so fast after that. One moment, you were the one tied up on the bed and the next, he’d released you, stripped himself naked, and managed to flip you over so that you were the one on top of him, straddling his waist. Pulling away from you mouth, Billy’s eyes darkened as he saw that familiar glimmer in your eyes. That animalistic side of you was out in full force now.

“Get up here.” He demanded.

You smirked and leaned across him so that your lips hovered over his. “Why would I want to do that?”

He leaned up, the veins in his neck swelled against his neck as he caught your bottom lip between his teeth. “Get. Up. Here.”

Releasing your lip, Billy watched you smirk and crawl up the remainder of his body until your pussy was less than an inch away from his mouth. Grabbing onto the metal of the headboard you’d just been tied up to, you gasped as Billy’s tongue slid into your folds. Finding your clit instantly, you moaned and allowed your eyes to fall shut as you reached down to play with your hardened nipples.

Fuck, what Billy could do with his mouth should have been illegal.

He sucked and lapped at your clit as you rocked back and forth against his mouth. His fingers dug into your hips, so much so that you knew there would be bruises in the morning but, blinded by the pleasure between your thighs, you couldn’t care less.

The moans that were coming out of you were raw and guttural and, as you played with your own tits, envisioning his hands being the ones to squeeze and nip on the swollen buds of your nipples, you saw stars.

“Fuck,” you moaned out, “Billy, baby, fuck.”

He pulled your hips further down so that you were sitting on his face. Not just hovering but sitting on that perfect mouth of his as he held you in place. You knew it must have been hard for him to breathe but he was adamant and as his tongue continued its assault on your throbbing cunt, you came devastatingly hard and incredibly loud.

Stars danced behind your eyes as you continued to ride out your orgasm. When you couldn’t take another second of Billy’s skilled tongue, you climbed off of him only to feel his large hands take hold of your hips again.

Swinging you around so that you were on your back and he was the one hovering over you, Billy wasted no time in slipping his rock-hard erection into your soaking pussy.

He was thrusting hard and the sounds of your juices squelching with every thrust of his cock would have been off-putting if it hadn’t been for the raw, primal need coursing off of the pair of you in waves. He was kissing your lips and biting them and suckling your neck as he continued to rail into you with all of passion in the world. You weren’t sure you’d ever seen him this riled up and you had to admit it was inherently sexy seeing him so affected by you.

Not surprising in the least, it didn’t take him long to come. You’d riled him up to the point of no return in the car and, as you felt him come inside of you, you all but laughed when he dramatically crashed on the bed beside you.

Sweat glistened over every inch of body and the sheen of your juices was still on his lips as he kissed you. This kiss was slow, methodical. Sweet. And you felt yourself fall even harder for the man as he broke the kiss and gently brushed your hair away from your now damp forehead.

Wrapping one arm around your chest, Billy held you against him as he propped himself against the headboard. You were both naked and sweating and while a shower was something you both definitely needed, neither of you found yourselves all too willing to move out of the other’s embrace.

“Is it hard being back here?” You asked, listening to his heart beating in his chest.

“For a second, maybe,” he admitted, soothing your hair down. “Not now.”

“What’s changed?” You asked with a small smile. “The sex was that good, huh?”

A quiet chuckle shook his chest as he kissed the top of your head. “I think horror meets niche porn is my new favourite genre.”

Kissing his naked chest, you grinned into his body. “Same.”

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starryhyuck · 3 years

Text

limit. (m)

pairing: gryffindor!mark x reader

words: 3.4k+

summary: with gryffindor on a continuous losing streak, you have no choice but to push your quidditch player boyfriend to his breaking point.

genre: smut

warnings: public sex, overstimulation, squirting, oral sex, degradation, daddy kink, face slapping

“If you keep pushing him, he’ll snap.”

“That’s what I’m hoping for.”

You observe Mark across the Great Hall, fingers clenched tightly around his spoon. The other Gryffindor seated beside him are eyeing him warily, afraid the resident happy Head Boy was slowly losing his mind.

This, of course, is partly due to you.

You’ve refused to give Mark an orgasm until Gryffindor wins a Quidditch match, which has effectively been very hard since the team has been on a losing streak. You and Mark aren’t animals, per se, but the two of you fucked regularly and the fact that he hasn’t gotten the chance to touch you in weeks is taking a toll on him.

Lucas swings an arm around his shoulder and whispers something to him, but Mark’s eyes are locked in on you. You could almost feel the magic radiating off of his form. You smile deviously, arm reaching to wrap around Donghyuck’s, who gladly accepts your touch. Luckily, Donghyuck enjoys pushing Mark’s buttons almost as much as you do.

Donghyuck’s in the middle of feeding you a bite of his chicken when all of the glasses in the Great Hall shatter. A jumbled murmur of shrieks and gasps of surprise echo at the performance of wandless magic. Students whip their heads around, frantically trying to find the source of the fiasco. You already know who the culprit is, watching as Mark stomps out of the Great Hall, fists clenched tightly.

—

Donghyuck snickers beside you.

“You’re really asking for it. Wearing Slytherin gear and sitting with the snakes? He’s going to ruin you.”

You roll your eyes, brushing off his comment and adjusting the green tie wrapped around your neck. You briefly lock eyes with your irate boyfriend, who is currently on the Quidditch pitch, waiting for the match to begin. You smile and wave at him innocently, only to receive the nastiest look in return.

Donghyuck laughs again at the exchange. “I’ve never seen Mark look like that. Are you sure you’re ready for the consequences?”

You grin as the game begins, the cheering sounds from the Slytherin stands almost drowning out your voice.

“He needs a little push. Gryffindor has lost three games in a row already.”

You prove Donghyuck right a hour into the game. Mark has been scoring goal after goal since the match started. Slytherin’s Keeper tries to block every single throw, but Mark is clearly on a mission, showing no mercy to the Slytherin house. He almost looks like he would Avada someone on the spot just to win.

Every time he scores, he makes a point to look straight at you before zooming off. You smirk to yourself, already feeling your panties dampen at the sight. One part of you is slightly afraid of what Mark will do to you once Gryffindor wins. The other part of you is unabashedly excited.

The Slytherins around you groan and complain as Mark continuously scores. Donghyuck is enjoying the show, knowing you’re truly in for it later after seeing the murderous look painted on Mark’s face.

The game ends after two hours, with the Gryffindor Seeker securing the Snitch and winning the match. The sea of red erupts in a roar of applause and cheers, while the Slytherins grumble and curse their luck. It was the first loss of the season for the Slytherins, and they could all thank your boyfriend for that.

Usually, when Mark wins a game, you would wait outside the locker rooms and congratulate him with a kiss. This time, you want to make him work for it a little more.

Donghyuck chuckles when he sees you turn the opposite direction of the locker rooms.

“You’re in for it now.”

—

You’re laughing at something Doyeon’s telling you when you feel the abrupt tug on your arm. You hiss at the contact, ready to hex whoever it is. Realization seeps within you when you see the look of fury on Mark’s face as he tugs you away from your friends.

“I’ll see you guys later!” You call out, already feeling the slick of your wetness coating your thighs.

“Okay! Great game, Mark!”

The Gryffindor boy doesn’t even thank them, pulling open the door to the empty Potions classroom and shoving you inside. You put on your innocent persona.

“That wasn’t very nice. I was having an interesting conversation with Doyeon, if you must know.”

“On the desk. Now.”

The anger laced in his tone has your body vibrating. You decide to push him even further, frowning and clutching your books tighter to your chest. You still have Donghyuck’s Slytherin scarf wrapped around you, which Mark is heavily glaring at.

“I don’t even get a please? Where are your manners, Mark?”

You gasp when he steps forward, fingers bunching around the locks of your hair and pulling. Hard.

“You think this is so funny, don’t you? Watching me fall apart, breaking all the glasses in the Great Hall and receiving detention for it? How about wanting to injure someone on the field just so we could win? Just so I can come back to you, fuck you so hard your tight cunt stretches out.” His fingers grip the fabric of your skirt and he growls. You swear you can feel your juices start running down the inside of your thigh with how wet you are. “And what about this? This stupid fucking little skirt. You think you could get away with that too?”

You placed a charm on your clothing early this morning, making your button-up shirt just a little tighter around your chest and your skirt a little shorter than normal. You smile and try to raise your chin as much as possible, struggling as Mark continues to pull your hair.

“Daddy likes it? I did it just for you. Just so Daddy could win today.”

Mark’s eyes are the darkest they have ever been, and you try not to glance down at his trousers, which are probably straining from his growing erection. You only play the Daddy card once or twice, mainly because once it’s out in the open, Mark fucks you until you can’t feel your legs. And most days, you would prefer not to limp from class to class.

Another gasp rips out of your throat when he discards your clothing with the flick of his wand. He casts a silencing charm on the room, and you know you’re done for.

He leaves you in your undergarments, and today, you have chosen to wear a nice lacy number in Slytherin green. The sight makes him hiss in frustration, and it isn’t long before he slams you down on a nearby desk. You whimper at the contact, but Mark hardly cares about your well-being at this point.

He snickers at the sight of your ruined underwear, snapping the garter you’re wearing against your skin as you yelp.

“Look at you. Greedy little slut. Who got you this wet?”

“D-Donghyuck,” you manage to say, gathering enough courage.

The answer earns you a slap across the face and you cry at the pain.

“Wrong answer. Try again.”

“Y-You, Daddy. Just y-you.”

He hums in contentment. You shudder when you feel a finger run up and down your slit. “I’m going to make the rules very clear today. You’ll do your best to obey them, or else I’ll use your body how I please without letting you cum. Understood?” At your timid nod, he continues. “I’m going to fuck your tight little cunt raw. I’m going to cum as much as I like, and make you cum as much as I like. If I hear any protests, I’ll add an extra orgasm to the list. I don’t care if you’ve reached your limit. I don’t care if you can’t handle any more. I’ll do whatever I like, and there will be no arguments about it.”

You chew on your bottom lip. Mark has never fucked you raw before — you both always use Muggle condoms or contraceptive charms.

“But, Mark-“

He slaps your clothed slit and you gasp loudly. “That’s another orgasm added to the list. Do you want another one? We’re already at five.”

Your eyes widen. You’ve never been able to take more than three orgasms from him without passing out. You immediately shake your head, sealing your lips tight.

“Good. Bend over.”

You scramble to follow his orders, shakily positioning yourself over the desk. Another flick of his wand and you’re completely naked. You whimper at the vulnerability, wondering if he also cast locking charms on the doors too. Anyone could walk in and see you bent over like this.

Mark usually likes to see your face when he fucks you so you’ve never really tried this position with him. Goosebumps rise on your skin when you feel his hands exploring your backside.

“Wish everyone could see you like this for me. Bent over during dinner while I fuck you into the table. They always tease me about you. Gryffindor Head Boy could never satisfy his partner. They think I’m such a goody-two-shoes.” You almost scream when a finger unexpectedly pushes into you. “I wonder what everyone would think now — having you bent over the Potions desk like this, eager to be fucked like a little whore. Waiting for my cock to split you apart, isn’t that right?”

“Y-Yes, Daddy,” you garble.

He adds another finger, the squelch of your wetness causing you to grow even warmer. He thrusts his fingers inside of you, skillfully digging them into the spot you love.

“Do you know how many times I’ve thought about your cunt? Ever since you made that ridiculous bet with me, I knew I was done for. I had to excuse myself so many times from class just to rub one out in the bathroom. Seeing you in this cute little skirt, so eager to earn House Points, so willing to please the professor. I imagined how tight your pussy would feel when I wrapped a hand around myself, how many of those sweet moans I could bring out of you.”

When he pushes a third finger in, you shriek as you cum without warning. You were probably moaning without any sense, writhing on top of the desk as Mark fingers you through your orgasm. He drank up every single one of your sounds, gazing down at you with a feral look in his eyes.

Even as your orgasm subsides, Mark doesn’t stop fucking you. You almost request for him to give you a break, but you know it’ll just earn you another orgasm.

He watches you, waiting for you to beg for him to stop. He smiles when you obey, continuing to thrash and whine as his digits pump into you.

“So pretty, perfect for me. You’re always so tight, it’s not fair to me, you know? I could fuck you every single day and you would still need to be stretched out regardless.” He leans over your frame, mouth beginning to press open mouthed kisses at your throat. The sensation has you jolting, his fingers grinding down to rub at your clit. “But you would like that, wouldn’t you? So hungry for my cock.”

This was true — you couldn’t seem to get enough of Mark on a daily basis. Even if you didn’t fuck every single day, you always had the urge to get on your knees for him and suck his cock. It calmed you in a way. Before exams, Mark would pull you into a nearby alcove and let you suck him off until your worries disappeared.

You could feel your high approaching again. “P-P-Please,” you stutter, gasping and pushing yourself further down his fingers. “Please, Daddy.”

At the sound of your begging, Mark sinks to his ground. He jerks your body until you’re halfway off the desk, pushing your thighs apart so he can see you fully. He takes a moment to marvel at how pretty you are before licking a stripe up your cunt. You groan, fingers tangling into his hair, which is still slightly damp from his after-game shower.

He hums against your folds, exploring them with his tongue. Mark could eat you out for days and remain unbothered by the outside world. There have been multiple times where you’ve woken up to his head in between your legs as he snuck into your dormitory room early in the morning to get a taste of you. There’s also been a few occasions when he would convince you to sneak out while he runs patrol in the hallways, just so he could prop you against a wall and eat you out until you cry.

Your eyes flutter closed as you revel in the feeling of Mark’s mouth on your cunt. He’s groaning with you, hands cupping your thighs and bringing you closer to him. His nose continuously nudges your clit as he licks you, slurping on the remnants of your orgasm.

It doesn’t register for a few seconds that he’s still talking to you.

“This is mine. My cunt for fucking. I’m the only one who’s allowed to see you like this, understand? The only one who gets to make you cum.”

He is, indeed. You topple headfirst into your second orgasm, juices spilling into Mark’s waiting mouth. He cleans you up as your body attempts to recover. You’re lucky he remembered to place a silencing charm, your voice almost giving out with the amount of screams you’ve emitted. He decides to spare you this time, rising from the ground and licking his lips.

“Tastes so good.” He smirks down at you, watching as your chest rises and falls from heavy panting. You feel like you’ve run a marathon, but he looks like he’s only just started. His fingers brush stray hairs away from your face. “Poor baby. All fucked out already? I haven’t even given you my cock yet.”

You blink deliriously in response and he laughs. His fingers dig into your hips once more as he adjusts you on your back again.

“How about you answer a question for me? If you answer correctly, I’ll give you my cock. If you fail, I’ll add another orgasm to the list.” You blink again in response, brain fuzzy. He grins. “Why don’t you tell me what a bad girl you’ve been these past few weeks?”

He slaps the inside of your thigh to jolt you out of your reverie. “I-I was a b-bad girl, Daddy.”

“Hm? And why’s that?”

“I ignored y-you,” you whisper as his hand cups your breast, tweaking your nipple between his fingers. “I cheered for S-Slytherin when I-I should have b-been c-c-cheering for Gryffindor.”

Your breath grows more shaky as Mark’s other hand inches towards your entrance again.

“And?”

“And I f-f-flirted with D-Donghyuck when I’m o-only s-s-supposed to have e-eyes for y-you, Daddy.”

“And?”

“And I charmed m-my clothes t-to tempt you.”

“Because?”

“Because I’m a whore.”

He smiles in contentment. “That’s right.”

Instead of pushing his fingers inside of you, you’re taken aback when the tip of his cock sinks into you. You moan loudly, not even noticing he had taken off his trousers.

“Fuck,” he curses, watching himself push into you. “Such a tight little cunt. Only for Daddy’s eyes, right?”

“Y-Yes, Daddy.”

His fingers find their way to your throat, curling and gripping your windpipe. You gasp and hear his sinister chuckle.

“There’s my little whore. Back in her place.”

He almost pushes you off the desk with the force of his thrusts. You have another small orgasm when Mark fully bottoms out, and he laughs when he realizes.

“Already? Looks like you’ve been just as desperate as me, baby.”

You’ve never taken more than three orgasms before. Since Hogwarts was a big school with many prying eyes, it was hard to get alone time with Mark like this. You often had to face the judgmental glares from the portraits whenever Mark fingered you behind one of the tapestries. Now that he has you all to himself, however, he intends to make the most out of it.

You’re pushing on the border of exhaustion, watching as your boyfriend continues to furiously push into you. He moves his hand from your throat to your cheek, slapping you once more to wake you up.

“Have to stay awake, baby. We still have two more to go.”

You mumble incoherently in response, past the point of comprehension. Once the tip of his cock rubs against your sweet spot, you cry out in pleasure. He grunts, angling himself so that he keeps hitting that spot inside of you. Over and over.

“M-Mark, I-“

“I know. Let me feel you, baby. Want to feel your cunt cum all over Daddy’s cock.”

You can’t begin to explain the tightening feeling in your stomach. You feel like you’re flying up to your peak at an unsteady rate. It almost feels like you need to use the bathroom, but before you can warn Mark, you fall apart.

You think you black out for a bit. You blink dazedly, body twitching and nervously moving on top of the desk. You get the strength to lift your head and check on Mark. His cock has slipped out of you, his gaze locked on your pussy.

“M-Mark?” You ask softly.

“Fuck, baby. You just squirted all over me.”

You gasp. You’ve never been able to squirt before and you eye the mess you’ve made all over Mark’s chest. He grunts, fingers pumping up and down his cock.

“Fuck fuck fuck. How can you be so perfect?”

And then he’s pushing back into you. You scream loudly, still trying to recover from such an intense orgasm. You realize that you’ve started crying, tears spilling down your cheeks.

“Perfect girl for me,” he hisses, hand returning to paw at your breast. “Cunt is so so sweet. Can never get enough of you. Just give me one more, baby. One more.”

You want to tell him you can’t, you’ve reached your limit and can’t push it any farther. You squeal when he pinches your clit.

“Daddy, please-“

“Daddy wants another, baby. One more for me.”

His thumb circles your clit while his cock pistons in and out of you. When he finds your sweet spot again, he doesn’t rest. He’s on a mission to get you to orgasm again, the same expression painted on his face from the Quidditch game just a hour ago. He’s determined to see you fall apart, filth spewing from his mouth.

“I wish I could take you like this every time. Push you up in the hallways, fuck you until you’re a sobbing mess for me. Having everyone watch while I make you squirt, showing them I can fuck you better than anyone else can. I bet they would all be jealous. They could never have you falling apart for them, begging for them to fill you up with their seed.”

It dawns on you that Mark still hasn’t cast a contraceptive charm of any kind. He seems to be on the same wavelength as you, digging his heels to the floor and thrusting harder at the thought of cumming inside you. The lewd sound of your wetness fills the room, along with his grunts and your whimpers from oversensitivity.

“I want to fuck you everywhere before we leave this place. Want you to ride me in the middle of the Quidditch pitch for everyone to see. Want all the Gryffindors to watch as their Head Boy plows into his girlfriend in the common room. Want you to bounce on my cock during every meal. Fuck, I want you so badly, baby.”

When you squirt this time, you’re coherent enough to watch it happen. Drops of your slick pour out of you, gushing onto Mark’s cock and the floor. The sound of his thighs slapping against yours only grows louder and wetter with your orgasm.

Mark hisses. “Want my cum, baby?”

“Yes, Daddy,” you echo back to him, barely staying awake.

He groans when he reaches his high, pushing deep inside of you to empty his load. He cums more than you expected, but you suppose he’s been holding it in for weeks. He finally finishes a minute later, collapsing on top of you. He subconsciously places kisses on your neck.

“Never act up like that again. I don’t think I have the stamina to do another round.”

You giggle, about to respond when the booming voice of your Potions professor echoes throughout the room.

“Mark Lee! What on earth do you children think you’re doing? Fifty points from Gryffindor!”

#nct smut #mark #mark smut

2K notes · View notes

robinofgothamcity · 3 years

Text

♡ prompt: "I got you breakfast. I know it's just a bowl of cereal, but it's the only thing I can't burn." / "Would it be alright if I borrowed your sweater? It smells like you."

♡ pairing: percy jackson x fem! reader

♡ note: not checked for grammar or spelling mistakes / I was listening to Theme from New York, New York by Frank Sinatra and felt like it fit Percy so well. I feel like all of Percy's vibe just screams Frank Sinatra in some way.

you always found it odd that so many kids from the Aphrodite cabin had told you that they felt you and Percy were bound to be together. at the time, you found it almost offensive considering he was dating Annabeth but a few months after, you along with everyone else heard that they had broken up.

you felt like you weren't within your rights to ask why they broke up, even if he was your close friend, and just waited until he told you himself. you found it surprising. everyone in the camp felt as though Annabeth and Percy were going to make it all the way to marriage but when he told you that they had fallen out of love, you sat in shock.

it had been a few months since then and while they remained friends, you could tell Annabeth was already going on a few dates herself, to which you felt happy for her. all the while, Percy hadn't seemed interested in anyone. you knew a lot of people would fall at the knees to date him but you couldn't help but wonder why he hadn't accepted any.

"whatcha doin'?" you heard Percy ask, practically barging into your room. you looked up from your notebook, shaking your head, "not much, why?" you asked. he pulled something out of his pocket, "my mom, Paul, and I are going to watch the Yankee's game and we have a spare ticket. wanna come along?"

you smiled, immediately getting up and pushing your chair in.

"hell yeah I want to go! lets go Jackson," you said, kicking him in the back of the leg as he passed you the ticket. you saw the time and stood confused, "the tickets say seven and it's only three?" you asked. he pushed you along as the two of you walked out of the camp.

"my mom wants to catch pizza before the game. she claims we haven't spent enough time together lately."

you giggled, "please, that's so sweet. being the daughter of Ares, it's not exactly something he'd want to do....ever," Percy shoved you but didn't press it any longer. he knew your dad was an asshole and so were all your siblings and he meant that in the most respectful way possible.

the subway ride to Percy's mom's place was filled with you and Percy talking about anything and everything. you knew Percy could've told any of the boys to come along so you found it a bit endearing to know that he picked you to come along. you were also meeting his mom for the first time so you were a bit nervous on that end.

"my sister should be awake. she's usually up and trying to crawl around this time." your eyes widened realizing he was talking about Estelle. you knew she was only a few months old and meant that she was not walking yet, "oh my god, a baby!" you clapped happily as you walked up the stairs.

Sally's apartment stood at the very top of the building and you heard giggles coming from the other side of the door. Percy practically barged into the apartment, seeing Estelle on the ground as Sally tried fixing her onesie.

"hey mom!" he said bending down to grab Estelle as Sally stood up, " you must be ( your name ), nice to meet you," she said excitedly as she brought you in for a hug. you were taken back by the sudden hug but returned it, "nice to meet you as well. is that your daughter?" you asked, the itching feeling to wanting to hold her creeping up.

she nodded, grabbing Estelle and handing her over to you, "oh my god, you're precious. Percy, she's adorable!" you exclaimed, instantly making her jump in your arms. Percy gave you a smile as you looked to Sally, "is she attending the game? looks like she's ready with her little gear," you asked as you saw the Yankee's onesie on her.

Sally agreed, saying that she didn't want to separate from Estelle from too long. you helped Sally put Estelle's jacket and hat on as Percy and Paul spoke with each other, "she's so cute, I can't handle it," you tried not to squeal as Sally laughed, "fan of babies?" she asked.

you shrugged, "I wouldn't say fan but infants are just so cute," you gushed, squishing Estelle's cheeks. all of you walked out as you had her in your arms while Percy tried making her laugh.

Paul and Sally watched as they smiled to each other, "they'd make great parents," Paul murmured as Sally agreed, "not right now but in five years, I wouldn't mind seeing grandkids," you were paying no mind as you and Percy were in your own little world with his sister.

the ride to Yankee stadium was a short one as everyone was crowded around each other. all of you got quickly scanned in and sat towards the front of the crowd. you sat in between Percy and Sally as you had Estelle on your leg. you knew Paul and Percy were the bigger fans as you and Sally went along for the fun time. you knew the basics of baseball but you like Sally were confused on some parts.

the rivalry ran deep as the Yankee's were playing the Red Sox's and you could tell both of the boys were getting extremely into the game. Paul and Percy screaming to a few Sox's fans with words you were surprised that Percy even said in front of his mom. you looked over to Sally and started laughing as you heard both of the heavy New York accents coming out of them.

"I don't think I've ever seen Percy this invested in anything....ever," you murmured to Sally as she agreed, "he was a fan when he was a child but he was never like this," she replied as Percy stood up again, screaming at the top of his lungs that a player was safe.

both you and Sally remained talking amongst each other, briefly getting up to get drinks for the other two. you had offered to feed Estelle her bottle as Sally sipped on a glass of wine. you knew caring for an infant was hard but you knew that she birthed Percy, someone who was probably ten times harder to deal with as a baby.

"we should get going but the two of you should stay for the rest of the game. who knows when's the next time you'll get a chance to see a game," Paul and Sally told the two of you a bit later on. you nodded understandingly, "of course, thank you inviting me," you whispered as you gave Sally a hug.

she smiled, placing a kiss on your cheek, "I'm sure I'll be seeing you around a lot more so I'll see you later," you wondered what she meant by as she turned to tell Percy goodbye. you didn't bother to ask as you felt the New York breeze start to get colder. Percy could tell as you turned over to him, "would it be alright if I borrowed your sweater? It probably smells like you," you asked.

Percy didn't hesitate to take off his hoodie, placing it on your lap as you quickly put it on. you were drowning it as you smelled Percy's cologne right away. he had a ocean and wood smell to him. the game was in its eighth inning, the Yankee's leading the score with 10-8. you knew Chiron would want all of you back at camp before midnight and the ride back to the camp would be long.

"wanna head back, I can tell you're getting sleepy," you heard Percy whisper in your ear. you nodded, lifting your head from his shoulder as the two of walked out of the stadium. the stars littered the sky as there was no cloud in sight, "tonight was fun. your family is so cute," you told Percy.

he smiled, "I know, it took a long time to get us here," he murmured. you gave him a smile as you felt Percy slowly slip his hand in yours. you gave him a look as he tried to hide his blush, "aw, it's Theme from New York New York by Frank Sinatra," you told him as you squeezed his hand in approval.

you heard fans drunkenly singing along to the song on the subway as you and Percy laughed, "I want to be apart of it...NEW YORK, NEW YORK," both you and Percy sang, giggling with each other. Percy was holding your side as the subway was in complete shambles with everyone singing.

"If I can make it there, I'll make it practically anywhere, It's up to you, New York, New York!"

you looked up to Percy who was already staring down at you lovingly. you felt him bend down a bit, placing a kiss on your lips as you instantly returned it.

"And find that I'm number one, Top of the list, King of the hill."

the crowd continued to sing as you gave Percy a smile and snuggled closer to him. you heard the subway ding off the stop as you and Percy hopped off. you remained in Percy's side embrace as the two of you entered the camp. most of the campers were asleep as only a few scarce campers were still awake.

Percy dropped you off at the door of the Ares cabin, "thank you for today," you whispered, giving him a kiss on the cheek. he nodded, placing one back on yours as he grabbed your hand and gave it a quick squeeze, "we should do it again," he whispered back.

you agreed, opening the door and blowing him a kiss in return before shutting it. Percy stood in place for a moment before jumping in Breakfast Club style. he walked back to his cabin, a smile plastered on his face as he fell into bed, as happy as ever.

you woke up the next morning, all of your siblings already gone as you heard a knock on your door. you had fell asleep with Percy's sweater on and a pair of shorts as you released a yawn of sleepiness. you walked over to the door and laughed tiredly, seeing as it was Percy.

"I got you breakfast. I know it's just a bowl of cereal, but it's the only thing I can't burn," you saw the bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch and laughed as you grabbed it and sat on the steps of your cabin, "I appreciate it," you said, placing a kiss on his cheek, making his blush again.

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