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sugarushwriting · 3 days

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vampire enhypen and you’re their human blood bank (part six!!???!)

jay isn’t happy with your decisions

neither is sunghoon

jake or heeseung

they became possessive over you and refuse to allow you to leave them

straight smut coming this chapter, forewarning. i will not warn anymore after the “keep reading” point. i am not the best at writing smut (jealous of those who can) so please be easy on me!!

next part (?) should not have heavy smut like this one or any at all. didn’t expect this many parts but hi, hello, here we are.

do not repost or translate. but please feel free to reblog, like, and comment! not proof read.

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ₊˚⊹♡

your leg nervously bounced while you waited in class for the professor to begin. students began whispering wondering why this class was mandatory. the girls were whispering wondering where jay was.

where was he? he made it a whole ordeal that you come to class today and he’s not even here?

the entire class period went by boringly, but the professor did talk about important things. maybe he did need to talk about it to everyone, but no need for it to have been mandatory and worth so many points.

as he dismissed class 10 minutes early, he called you to the podium where he stood.

“yes professor kong?” you asked adjusting your backpack on your shoulder.

“mr park needs to see you in his office. he says it’s about your recent grade.”

you stood frozen, “um, i thought i did okay on that paper?”

“he did too, but he said he found some things and he’s worried about plagiarism?”

“that’s ridiculous! all that work came from me and i made sure to reference correctly.”

the professor shrugged, “i haven’t seen it myself, and i trust mr park.”

well you didn’t. “thank you professor kong.�� you nodded politely and walked out the classroom, an immediate ding to your phone notifying you had a text.

jay: come to my office. im watching you. don’t try to hide and run.

you read the text and huffed in annoyance. you looked around for him, but of course, if he didn’t want to be found by you, he wouldn’t.

you made your way to his office in the business building, which was luckily the same building class was held. you took the elevator to the top floor, and made your way to the end of the hallway were his small but cozy office was.

your university gave teaching assistants either their own office or shared office depending on the amount of work they would be doing for the professor. plus teaching assistants were required to hold office hours for extra help for students with a minimum of 2 hours a week. whether it was in person office hours or through zoom.

you raised your fist to knock, but startled when you felt a hot breath on your neck. quickly turning around, you came face to face with jay. your back flat against his door.

he reached beside you, unlocking the door. “go in.”

it wasn’t a question or statement. it was a demand. his tone was hushed, but deep. you recognize his authority tone he usually used on the guys.

you quickly turned back around and walked into his office.

he locked the door behind him, hands in his pocket and made no effort to talk to you.

“professor said you had worries about my paper?” you asked.

jay was behind his desk now, and his brown eyes snapped up from the drawer he was rummaging through. “your paper is fine.”

“but—,”

jays sharp eyes made contact with you and you quickly hushed. his irises were red.

jay grabbed a roll of duct tape and made his way towards you. he ripped off a piece, and when you went to ask what he was doing, he quickly placed it over your lips. again, he said nothing, until you lifted your arms to take off the tape.

“take off that tape and i will turn your ass black and blue.”

his tone was threatening, and even though usually you’d push back, something told you not to this time. you put your hands to your sides, waiting for his next move.

he took your bag off of your shoulder, then next, he taped your hands together in front of you.

he threw the tape off to the side, it clattering to the floor. jay stood in front of you, straight eye contact, pushing your body subtly to his desk, until your butt rested against it.

you’ve never seen jay so quiet. it terrified you to be honest. but you also felt a thrill. is he showing you his dominate side you’ve been asking for? or maybe this is his fed up side with your behavior. you knew you were to be mad at him. and you still was, however, for good sex? you might put it aside just for now.

jay roughly pushed you down on his desk, and put your arms to rest above your head. “move your hands and arms, and you won’t be able to lift them for weeks.”

another threat. you swallowed. jay wasted no time lifting your sweatshirt above your bra, and removing your sweatpants off your legs. without warning, jay slapped your underwear covered pussy—hard. like someone would slap an ass.

you tried to scream, but of course your mouth was covered so it was muffled. jay smirked.

he removed your underwear, throwing them over his shoulder, and pulled your bra down to expose your breast. he took each in one hand, gripping hard, causing pain. another muffled scream.

jay wasn’t being his usual gentle self. and you were thinking this is more than his dominate side.

your arms jerked, and jay raised a brow, waiting for you to move it, but you didn’t.

“good girl.” he praised, and you rolled your head to the side. he clicked his tongue on the root of his mouth, “nope, eyes on me the entire time.”

your head rolled back to meet jays eyes. “good to know you do listen.”

you were surprised when jays fangs extended. your eyes going wide. his kissed your jawline, the tape where your lips would be, and one kiss to you neck. he peppered kisses down your chest before his mouth latched on to a nipple, and you could feel his fangs slightly break skin.

another muffle scream came. he did it to the other breast. then he kissed down your stomach, occasionally scraping his fangs against your skin. your stomach recoiled at the slight touch, because one you were ticklish, second because you were nervous he was going to break skin fully, not just a tease.

he kissed down your body, your left thigh, left leg, then made his way back up your right leg, to your right thigh, stopping just inches away from your core. you could feel his hot breath fanning, and you wiggled a bit. he didn’t move. you whined behind the tape, earning a chuckle from jay.

your eyes closed as you waited for the sensation of his tongue licking your core. you didn’t notice jay was taking his pants and boxers off, stroking his cock twice, aligning himself to your entrance.

he roughly, swiftly, and quickly bottomed out, cause a deep groan of pleasure from his mouth. a loud muffled scream of pain came from your mouth behind the tape.

fuck you wasn’t expecting him to just bottom out like that. usually jay takes his time with slowly entering you. he always makes sure you’re wet enough.

“what a shame, usually you’re dripping for me. this time you’re barely wet.”

if you could talk you would scold him and say it’s because he didn’t give you time! he didn’t prep you!

he knew that. he wanted to bring you pain. a tear slipped from your eye. he didn’t give you time to adjust to his thickness when he started ramming in and out of you, at an unhuman speed and strength, or at least something you weren’t used to. his hands and fingers tightly gripped your thighs to hold you in place. your body rocked against his desk, scared it was going to break.

your eyes rolled to the back of your head, as jay mumbled incoherently under his breath. you couldn’t hear what he was saying, nor did you care.

not until you realized your arms left the place they were supposed to be, and went to wrap around jays neck.

he quickly removed himself, you moaning low from the loss of him, and he lifted you off the desk by pulling you by your taped hands.

“what did i tell you?” he asked through gritted teeth. your eyes went wide and he flipped you on your stomach, the cold surface hitting your bare breasts and stomach. your arms back reaching over your head, gripping the edge of the desk.

jay quickly entered you from behind, this time gripping your ass so tight, you really were gonna be black and blue after this.

all you could do was let muffled sounds escape from the tape as he hammered from behind, landing slaps to your ass.

his cock was reaching into your cervix, and you didn’t know to scream of pain or pleasure. tears now flowing out of your eyes.

your orgasm began building, and with jays sloppy and low sounds leaving his mouth, you knew he was close too.

it didn’t take long for him to come inside you. but just as you were so close, he removed himself and watched his come drip out of you.

you whined. you whined and cried because you were so close to your orgasm and he stopped! that wasnt like jay. he always made sure you orgasmed first, if not, at least made sure you had a successful orgasm.

you banged your fists on his desk in frustration, as his come slowly dripped out of your cunt, down your legs.

you began crying fully, because you just couldn’t control your emotions. your legs bucking, your knees going week. jay emotionless put his boxers and pants back on, lifting you up by your hair, leaning down to whisper in your ear.

“not nice when someone won’t listen to you huh? when they ignore you. when they ignore what you want and your needs.” jay snickered and dropped you back on the desk.

jay went to the other side of his desk, grabbing scissors from his drawer. no further word, he cut the tape from your bound hands, and lifted your chin from the desk, removing the tape—not so gently—from your lips.

but you were too wore out to even complain. you can’t fathom how you were tired. 2 simple positions, but jay used his strength and energy on you. he probably could’ve went harder, faster, but that might’ve killed you.

you lifted yourself on your forearms to look at jay, who still had that lazy smirk on his face. you lifted yourself fully, and when you went to lift your bra, you had to use two hands, but lost balance and fell to the ground. while lying there you lifted your bra to cover yourself again, and pulled down your sweatshirt. you reached over to grab your underwear that was lying on the ground next to you.

“you’re seriously gonna get dressed while lying down?”

you had no energy to even speak. you grabbed your underwear, but couldn’t even bend to put them on your legs.

jay sighed in frustration and disbelief (how dare he, jerk!!) and came to assist you with getting dressed. “good to know you can’t fight back. you’re coming home with me.”

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

jay threw you onto a bed. you couldn’t even focus on who’s bed and room he brought you to. a small sound came from your throat. wasn’t even a full sentence. you said, “thirsty.”

jay nodded and left the bedroom. oh shit were you gonna die of thirst now? your limbs were still weak but you could slightly move. what the fuck happened?

footsteps could be heard and you saw sunghoon enter with a cup of what you’re assuming is water, hopefully.

sunghoon said nothing as he came closer to you, helping you sit up in the bed and brining the cup to your lips. he assisted you with drinking the water.

“thank you.” you finally said in a whisper.

“our baby doll can talk now.” he smiled and patted your head. he laid you back down on the bed. it must be his.

sunghoon hovered over you, straddling, as he took off his shirt with a smirk. “be prepared baby doll. you’re not gonna be able to move for a while once we’re done with you.”

his lips came down to yours, a rush kiss, as he swiftly took off your pants and underwear at once and lifted your sweatshirt to expose your belly.

you were so distracted by his tongue deep in your mouth, you didn’t feel or notice sunghoon taking off his own pants and boxers. it wasn’t until he rubbed his tip against your clit.

“ah,” you moaned out from the feeling. your body still not recovered from jays attack or lack of orgasm. was sunghoon not gonna prep you either? he loved to eat your cunt out, almost, almost, as much as jake.

this would also be your first time having sex with sunghoon.

your thoughts were answered when he entered into you, slightly slower than what jay did. sunghoon was longer than jay, but with slight less thickness to him.

your hands went to sunghoons shoulders to grip, and he bottomed out, a loud moan leaving his lips. “why have i never done this before?” he mumbled to himself. your walls gripping him snuggly. “baby doll you feel so good and right for me. for us.”

sunghoon found a pace rocking his hips against yours, you connecting your lips together to muffle the sounds. once he started to reach an orgasm, his paced picked up and so did the roughness of how he fucked you. he lifted his lips off of yours as his fangs extended and his teeth scraped your shoulder like a slight pinch and he buried his head in your shoulder.

“so so good, baby doll.” he moaned, using his hand to wrap one of your legs around his waist for a deeper and better angle.

your head tilted as far back as possible from the pleasure building in your stomach once again. “sunghoon, im close.” you groaned out, removing your hands from his shoulders to grab onto the headboard.

you felt sunghoon fill you up with his come, and you were worried he wouldn’t let you come, but he fucked his come deeper into you as you soon came as well with the loudest moan you’ve let slip past your lips.

maybe it was because of the first orgasm denial, so this one was so intense. it had your body shaking afterwards, specifically your legs and they went numb.

you were so tired, all you wanted to to was nap. not even caring as sunghoon pulled out, you closed your eyes.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

when you awoke, you were in a different bed, and heeseung was playing a game at his desk in front of you.

you tried to move your body but couldn’t. not because you were tied down, but because your body was so sore and worn out. the only thing you could do was let noises escape your mouth.

your whine caught heeseung’s attention from the game and he smiled seeing you awake. he turned off the game, coming to the bed beside you as you finally noticed him shirtless, only in pajama pants.

all you could do was stare. “baby, you’ve been sleep for hours. was starting to get worried i wouldn’t get my turn.” he pouted.

hours? you slept for hours? you turned your head to look out the window and saw dusk was falling. what time was it?

you mentally did math—okay so class ended around 11:40, you met jay at his office around 12. how long did that last? a hour? maybe longer? then what about sunghoon? how long did that go?

with the light, it had to be around 5 or 5:30 in the evening. “time?” you croaked out.

heeseung smiled. “it’s almost 5, baby.” he pulled you to the edge of the bed, so your feet hung off the edge, your butt close to it. “i’m glad jay and sunghoon didn’t go too hard. was worried you wouldn’t be able to take me or jake.”

wait, they all were going to fuck you? and what does he mean they didn’t go too hard? you could barely move or speak!

you tried to form words, but your mind turned to mush when heeseung got on his knees and lifted both of your legs so they were over his shoulder. “i can’t wait to finally taste you.” he whispered against your inner thigh.

that’s when you finally realized, you were only in an oversized shirt and some boxers. you didn’t know who dressed you in it. maybe sunghoon or maybe heeseung.

heeseung kissed your cunt through the boxers, his nose burying itself to inhale deeply. he pressed open mouth kisses all along both of your thighs, before his vampire fangs felt like a pinch to your thigh. you jerked, but heeseung held you in place. his teeth scraped against your inner thigh, a moan leaving your lips as you turned your head to the side, and ran your fingers through is hair.

he swiftly took the boxers off your legs and lifted the shirt up above your belly button. no warning, heeseungs tongue swiped between your folds, your legs tightening around his neck as he buried himself between your legs like he was home. he licked, sucked, bit, nibbled, all he could on your cunt, clit and in between.

“fuck you taste too good baby. no wonder jake and sunghoon love to be buried between your legs.” heeseung sighed in pleasure, as he continued his attack. meanwhile, your head was rocking side to side, your eyes rolling to the back of your head, all while holding heeseung in place by your legs and your fist in his hair. the harder you gripped he would bite.

you were nearing your third orgasm of the day, but before you could let heeseung know you were close, he removed his delightful lips and tongue from your cunt, kissing up your stomach, lifting the shirt higher above your breasts, to your neck, still leaving open mouth kisses, licks, and occasionally nipping with his fangs.

you whine at the loss, heeseung smiling against your skin. his lips met yours in a sloppy kiss, you tasting yourself on his lips and tongue.

his lips made their way back to your breasts, his lips wrapping around one nipple, you sensitive to the feeling. another moan left your mouth, but then a louder moan mixed with a yelp came next as without warning, heeseungs fingers entered your cunt.

not one. not two. but three of his long fingers, knuckle deep. your body jerked at the feeling, but it caused heeseung to bite your nipple, your cunt growing wetter every second, and even wetter than before due to the bite.

“so so wet for me.” heeseung smiled then did the same attack on your other breast and nipple. he was loving the loud sounds coming from your wet cunt.

now, one hand was in heeseungs hair, the other on his muscular back as his fingers rocked in and out at a fast and bruising pace. “mhm heeseung.” you moaned out in between taking deep breaths. even without his cock he was filling you up deliciously.

your walls clamped tighter on his fingers, so he kept the speed of his fingers, his thumb rubbing circles on your clit. his tongue licked and sucked your nipple harder, his fangs making another appearance with a pinch.

it sent you over the edge. you came hard. your juices soaked his fingers, leaking onto the edge of the bed, down your thighs, and down his stomach.

you let out the loudest moan you ever had, and your chest heaved up and down as you chased oxygen as you felt so breathless.

you weren’t done. you kept coming and coming for at least a full 2 minutes, your body weakening every second as heeseung continued moving his fingers to your orgasm.

it wasn’t until tears filled your eyes that heeseung removed his fingers and lifted his body off of yours as you shook. you couldn’t imagine taking his cock right now.

“you’ll get my cock another time, baby.” he whispered against your forehead, easing your mind for the time being.

your eyes began to close as exhaustion took over.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

different bed. you woke up in a different bed and next to a different body. your eyes slowly opened to the darkness both outside and in the room.

your heartbeat sped up to not knowing your surroundings. you felt familiar lips on your neck with a kiss and a familiar aussie accent, “you had us so worried baby.”

you swallowed, trying to find your voice. “sorry.” your voice cracked. “im so sorry.” you apologized. this was your punishment for ignoring them. they were letting you know, you were theirs.

“it’s okay baby. we know you won’t do it again.” jake sighed and began sucking on your neck.

you knew jake had a high sex drive. even before he became a damn vampire. you could only imagine how becoming a vampire upped it. usually when he feasted on you, he could stay for hours eating you out, giving you multiple orgasms in a short time period.

“jakey im tired.” you pouted hoping jake would give you a break.

“don’t worry baby, just lay there, jakey will do all the work.”

and he did. you laid flat on the bed like a damn mannequin. your mind couldn’t even focus on whatever jake was doing. you just remember the cold air hitting your naked skin, his lips, his tongue, his teeth, all over your body.

jake gripping your thighs so tight you were sure handprints would be left behind, along with his nails digging into your skin.

you moaned, whined, and cried. jake was enjoying it so much. he didn’t care if you couldn’t participate back. as long as his lips were somewhere on your body he was happy.

between your legs, your thighs, devouring your cunt. your breast, nibbling your breasts. your lips for sloppy kisses, spit mixing between your mouths.

he moved you onto your stomach so he could eat you out from behind. he positioned your body so your head was buried in the sheets, your hands by your side, your ass in the air.

jake feasted, slobber and spit running down your leg. or was it come? did you orgasm? you were so tired maybe you did and didn’t even know.

jake mumbled, “so wet baby. coming so much just from my tongue.”

your mouth was so dry.

jake landed a slap to your ass, you groaned in reaction, and jake smiled liking that you finally responded to stimuli.

next you felt long slender fingers enter your cunt from behind, this time you bit into the sheets. your cunt genuinely could not handle anything else.

jake pumped his fingers at an ungodly speed, or what felt like it, your screams muffled by the sheets of his bed. your hands found the strength to grip onto the sheets.

“come again for me baby. i know you want to.”

and you did. you don’t know what orgasm number this was. you don’t know how long you orgasmed for. you just know your body could not take anymore.

you cried, shaking your head. “no more jakey, please. i—i am so sorry.” you sniffled.

jake shushed you, rubbing your back trying to get you to take deep breaths through your sobs. “it’s okay baby, no more.” he kissed your back. you collapsed onto the bed.

jake got off the bed, and helped you sit up, bringing a cup to your lips. “drink some water baby.”

you did. he had to help you, get you to slowly drink as if you tried to drink to fast, it would miss your lips and dribble down your chin.

once done, he laid you back down, covering up your naked body.

you cried yourself to sleep being so worn out from your body being wrecked by 4 vampires.

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ₊˚⊹♡

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alastwhorez · 3 days

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Corrupt - Chapter one: The Fallen Nun

𖤐 Pairing: Alastor x Nun!Reader

𖤐 Smmary: In the depths of Hell, where redemption is a rare commodity, Alastor, the Radio Demon, encounters an unexpected challenge: a nun who has fallen from grace. Drawn by her purity and the potential for corruption, Alastor sets out to twist her faith and make her his own. However, as he delves deeper into her world, he finds himself entangled in emotions he never anticipated. Can she keep her faith, or will the Radio Demon corrupt her? 𖤐 Warnings: 18+, MDNI, religion, smut, nun reader, masturbation, voyeurism, corruption kink, Alastor is a little shit, graphic sexual scenes, nightmares, Sexual manipulation, Hallucinations, Hell. I think that's everything

𖤐 an: First chapter, hope you enjoy! Not very long, the other should be longer. Not proofread, possible spelling errors

The air in Hell was thick with the scent of brimstone and despair. Amidst the chaos and torment, a lone figure wandered, her eyes wide with confusion and fear. Sister (y/n), once a devoted nun, now found herself in the last place she ever expected to be.

Clutching her rosary tightly, she whispered prayers under her breath, hoping for some semblance of comfort. Her long hair, usually hidden beneath her habit, flowed freely, a stark contrast to the dark, twisted landscape around her. Her circle glasses perched delicately on her nose, framing eyes that still held a glimmer of hope.

As she walked, she couldn’t help but feel the weight of countless eyes upon her. Demons and lost souls alike watched her with a mixture of curiosity and malice. Yet, she pressed on, determined to find a way out of this infernal place.

It was then that she heard it—a voice, smooth and melodic, cutting through the cacophony of Hell. “Well, well, what do we have here?” The voice seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once, sending a shiver down her spine.

Sister (y/n) turned, her heart pounding in her chest. Standing before her was a tall, slender figure dressed in a red pinstripe suit. His grin was wide and unsettling, and his eyes gleamed with a mischievous light. She recognized him immediately from the stories she had heard—the Radio Demon, Alastor.

“Lost, are we?” Alastor’s voice was laced with amusement as he took a step closer. “A nun in Hell. Now, that’s a sight you don’t see every day.”

Sister (y/n) took a step back, her grip on her rosary tightening. “Stay back, demon,” she warned, her voice trembling. “I have no business with you.”

Alastor chuckled, the sound echoing around them. “Oh, but I think you do, my dear. You see, I find you… fascinating.” He tilted his head, studying her with an intensity that made her skin crawl. “Such purity in a place like this. It’s almost poetic.”

She swallowed hard, trying to muster the courage to stand her ground. “I will not be swayed by your words. My faith is strong.”

“Is it now?” Alastor’s grin widened. “We’ll see about that.” With a flick of his wrist, he conjured a chair out of thin air and sat down, crossing one leg over the other. “Why don’t we have a little chat, Sister (y/n)? After all, we have all the time in the world.”

Despite her fear, Sister (y/n) felt a strange pull towards the demon. There was something about him, something that made her want to understand him, even as she resisted his influence. Taking a deep breath, she nodded. “Very well. But know this, Alastor—I will not be easily corrupted.”

Alastor’s eyes sparkled with intrigue. “Challenge accepted, my dear. Challenge accepted.”

The loud Ringing of your alarm woke you from the nightmare. Your breath deeply trying to calm yourself down, Your body had broken out into a sweat. It was as if he was really there or should I say you were really there—in hell.

Taking a deep breath you turn off the alarm and get out of bed. Sunday morning, the busiest day of the week. You go To the bathroom, wash up, and return to putting on your habit. You kneel down at your bed and say a prayer Before getting up and leaving your room to meet with the other sisters.

You all work together on your daily chores before the first service of the day. At the service you usually sing in the choir and help teach Sunday school to the children.

Today Is not different. It goes exactly how it does every Sunday, except the presence of the man from your dream lingers. As if he is watching you, following you around the church, mocking you.

You notice shadows Out of the corner of your eye, or a figure in the mirrors or glass windows when you pass. Things none of the other sisters see. You hear radio static when you are alone in a room and a malicious laugh when in prayer. You catch figures standing behind the other sisters or the priest when speaking to them. Evil, Malicious figures.

So you pray, you pray and you pray and you pray. begging for this to all stop. For you to still be dreaming. You notice your thoughts start to linger away from your faith. You start questioning things you never thought about before. Start asking yourself why you became A nun. These thoughts scare you so you try to pray them away. Begging God for an answer.

“Sister (y/n), are you alright? You seem out of it today” Father Paul says

You let out a sign. At first startled when you heard his voice. Thinking it was the malicious spirits playing with you again.

“Yes Father, I am alright. Thank you for asking” You say with a slight bow of your head. “Is there anything I can assist you with Father?”

He smiles at you and begins to talk but you don't hear any of it. Not when there is a shadow behind him showing you foul, violent images. The images go from violence to sexual back to violence.

“Sister, are you sure you're alright?” Father Paul Asks,pulling your attention back to him.

Your face is Flushed from the sexual images and sounds you were forced to witness. Never having seen Or heard such things before.

“I'm sorry Father, I'm feeling quite ill actually”

Laughter, deep, chest rumbling laughter is all you hear followed by the noise of radio static As the laughter dies down.

Father Paul tells you to take the rest of the day in silent prayer, that the other sisters can handle all the duties left for the day. You thank him and go back to your room, locking yourself inside.

You pray for the rest of the day trying to ignore The voices and shadows as they play with you. When night falls you retire to your bed after replacing your habit with a silk nightgown. Something you aren't supposed to have, it's too short and fabric is not modest enough.

Saying one more prayer you fall asleep.

The feeling of hands on you is all you can make out. It's dark, you can't see anything but you can hear the slight sound of static.

You feel the hand run Higher and higher up your leg starting at the ankle and moving up to your thigh. Your breath hitches when it reaches the bottom of your nightgown before continuing up under the garment.

You rub your legs together before you hear a laugh and someone saying in a deep static laced voice. “My Oh my who knew the pretty little nun would be so naughty”

The hand brushes against your Clothed cunt. Rubbing against your bundle of nerves pulling an unwanted moan from you before you feel the fabric being pushed to the side and something entering you.

You slam your legs shut or at least try to, another hand holds them open. The hands are big, bigger than any humans. You can hear the wet sound of your cunt as the finger moves in and out of you pulling another moan. You feel your nipples harden, and a tingling sensation all over your body. This is wrong. You should want it to stop but you want more.

The hand pulls away right before you reach your climax and you feel tears well up in your eyes. You're about to beg or prey. You don't know which one will get you further in this situation.

The entity who was touching you laughs and coos at you. “Aw does the poor little nun want more?” You whine, embarrassed.

It laughs again. “If I was a nicer man I would help you but unfortunately for you I enjoy watching you suffer.”

Another whine as tears start you fall down your cheek. You feel a cold finger slide against your cheek picking up the tear.

“if you want to come So bad do it yourself”

And you do. You touch yourself in ways you've never thought of before all to the sound of static. You're about to cum when your eyes shoot open and you realize it was all a dream. You're uncomfortable. Feeling a wetness in your panties and an ache between your legs.

You rub your legs together trying to ease the ache but it isn't helping. You get up and change your panties, hoping that will fix the problem.

When it doesn't, the voice of the entity that haunts you rang in your head. “If you want to cum so Bad do it yourself”

You lay down on your bed, pull your nightgown up and panties down, spreading your legs. You take a deep breath as you stare At the ceiling and let your hand travel Down your body. Jumping when you touch your cunt. You feel the sticky, slick fluid oozing out if you. You suck in a deep breath, jerking with every move of your finger. You are sensitive. Of course you are, you've never been touched like this before.

You find your bud and start at a slow pace, rubbing. A moan slips past your lips but it doesn't feel the same. You try thinking about someone but the only man you know is Father Paul. You can't convince yourself to think about him when doing this lewd act.

You let your mind wander and before you know it you're thinking about a man you've only met in your dreams. He's not even a man anymore, he's a demon.

You moan again as you speed up your finger, starting to feel good. “oh” you moan as you grab your tit and squeeze. You arch your back at the feeling.

You keep rubbing but it's not enough. Static fills you senses and you hear a deep voice say “put a finger in”

No you can't do that. You can't enter your virgin cunt. You can't even use tampons When on your period so you definitely can't do that. You have to be pure.

“But you're not pure~”

You whine trying to cum but it just isn't enough.

“No one will know”

Another whine when you think about how it felt in your dream. Why did it have to feel so good. Images of the demon flash in your mind. Him between your legs, licking you. Him on top of you or you on top of him in nothing but your coif as you bounce on him, grinding down, throwing your head back as you let out a pleasurable scream.

“Oh god” you whine

“God isn't going to help you. But I can”

“Please” you cry as you rub harder to the images in your mind

“Be a good girl and add a finger and maybe I'll consider it”

You whine but do as the voice says. You slip your hand down lower, coating your fingers on your juices. You take a deep breath and press a finger in, biting your lip to hold back the moan.

You start moving your finger in and out but it still isn't enough. The voice tells you to curl your finger on a come here motion. You do and your back arches off the bed as your mouth falls open in a silent scream.

The static in the room is getting louder, you can feel it on your skin now. Hairs standing on end. You throw your head from side to side wanting more but not knowing what to do, only knowing the pleasure you're giving yourself.

“Such a good girl”

You grip the sheets with your free hand feeling a tingly feeling build In your gut.

“Use your other hand to play with your clit”

You don't think twice about doing it. The voice was right before it had to be right now. You're a moaning mess on your bed. You're trying to be quiet not wanting to wake your sisters. You bite your lip to hold back the sounds.

“Tsk tsk tsk. Trying to be quiet? Well that won't do. I want to hear those pretty Sounds”

You let out a scream as you feel yourself come undone, eyes rolling back. Back arching.

You lay there trying to catch your breath. You're a mess, nightgown wrinkled and hair in knots. Your breathing is heavy and you need new panties.

“Keep listenin�� to me darlin’. Well have lost of fun”

That's the last thing you hear before drifting back to sleep. That night you dream of static and a demon who you hear stories about, stories that warn you how dangerous he is and not to be tricked by him.

But how can a demon who made you feel so good be so bad?

Table Of Contents, Next chapter

#hazbin hotel #alastor #hazbin alastor #alastor x reader #alastor x you #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x y/n #alastor x y/n #alastor x nun #hazbin hotel x you #♡~mazie is talking~♡#🦌~alastwhorez~🦌

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maturemenoftvandfilms · 2 days

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Mr. Walz

Featuring Minnesota Gov. Tim Walz

Back in the late ‘90s, Minnesota Gov. Tim Walz, and now Vice President Kamala Harris’ running mate, was a high school teacher and football coach in rural Minnesota. I attended Mankato West from 2000-2004, having Walz for 11th grade history. Being gay at the time, I initially expected to hate Walz, because he was a football coach and a hunter. But he was accepting and really friendly with me; with everyone really. He’s genuinely the goofy teacher that was in the hallway greeting every kid every morning, giving high fives and fist bumps. He and his wife, also a teacher at the school, provided vital support during my formative years. And to be honest, I thought he was cute.

He was in his late 30s and about 21 years my senior at that time, about my height, which is just shy of five foot-nine. He was chiselled like most middle-aged men with a gut. He dressed conservatively, usually a short sleeve solid colored shirt with a tee shirt under it and trousers which seemed to be a few sizes too small. I couldn’t help but find myself staring at his tightly held manhood, which showed a clear outline of his thick cock. That bulge had me daydreaming during our meets and school outings. I would jerk-off with this image in my mind every night.

After graduation, I didn’t see my ex-teacher again until I attended a campaign dinner in Falcon Heights, Minnesota. He instantly recognized me, smiling broadly and gave me a big hug. We’re talking 20-something years ago, and to have your 10th-grade geography teacher remember you after all of that time, it means something. I couldn’t call him Gov. Walz, because he will forever be Mr. Walz.

We talked a bit then, and a couple times throughout the evening. He asked me about what I was up to, if I was dating, the usual chit chat. I was so giddy to see Mr. Walz that I confessed that I had a crush on him in high school. I told him I thought about him every night when I jack off. How I use a big carrot up my ass, and pretend it was his dick. And I told him I knew he would never like me, that way, but I had to tell him.

Surprisingly, he suggested I should come over to his hotel, later, placing his hotel room card on the edge of the sink right next to me.

"Wait here, I'll have an agent escort you to my room in an hour." He said before leaving. I looked around to see if anyone had noticed, but no one had, so I quickly grabbed the key.

Sure enough, an hour later, a secret service agent escorted me to his hotel. The journey upstairs was unbearable. Reporters to dodge, people for the agent to nod away. By the time I got to Mr. Walz’s room, I was afraid he’d think I wasn’t’ interested, but when I entered the room, he was ready and waiting. The lights were dim, Mr. Walz was in a hotel bathrobe, and he’d ordered porn on the television.

"Is this what you really want?" I asked.

"More then anything." He replied.

I made the first move, leaning in to kiss him and as soon as our lips met, his arms went around me. Quickly, he started unbuttoning my shirt, unzipping my pants, and basically tearing my clothes off as he moved his tongue around inside my mouth. His hand was on my hard dick, feeling and testing the size.

"Oh, yeah." He moaned, as he ran his hand down my tender, sensitive cock before squatting.

With his mouth at my crotch, he ran his tongue up all seven inches, before gently pushing me towards the bed. On the bed, our bodies melded into one. His hard dick was teasing mine, as once again, our tongues found the other's mouth. Hands everywhere, as we hugged and rocked each other. Kissing my way down his chest, I left a trail of saliva all the way to his cock. Taking him in my mouth, I began to suck while I swirled my tongue around his boner before he started thrusting into my throat, making me gag. I guess he got pretty turned on by what I was doing to him as he turned me around and put us into 69 position.

As Mr. Walz took my dick in his mouth, I took his dick in mine. I worked on it with such skill that he began moaning deep inside his throat as he sucked my dick. And he could really suck; he knew how to please a man. I began to feel him starting to breathe rapidly and shake. I knew he was going to explode soon. I was getting close as well.

Wanting Mr. Walz to fuck me, I quickly seperated, and rolled off the bed leaving him laying there completely naked with a huge hard-on. Hurrying to my pants, I pulled a tube of lubrication out of his pocket before I bounded back to the bed. After telling him I wanted him to fuck me, I tensely watched as Mr. Walz applied the lubricate to his cock, knowing the pain I was about to feel. I couldn’t help but thinking back to my high school years when I first saw him. I had always wanted Mr. Walz to fuck me since then. Now was the time.

“You got a nice tight asshole.” Mr. Walz told me as he rubbed some of the KY onto my asshole.

He lifted my legs and stared me straight in the eyes as he guided the head of his cock to my ass. As soon as his dick made contact, he immediately thrust all 8 inches into me. I gasped loudly, so loudly in fact that I’m sure the people in the next room heard.

“I’m going to really open up your asshole.” Mr. Walz called out with a wicked smile on his face as he slowly started fucking me.

Noticing each time the fat head of his cock passed my hard prostate, pre-cum would squirt from the tip of my dick. He reached down and scooped it up with his finger, brought it to his mouth and licked it clean.

"Oh, man, that's good." He said, as he scooped up more, but I pulled his finger to his mouth, and sucked it in.

We smiled at each other before he leaned forward and kissed me deep, our tongues caressed each other, sharing my pre-cum. Then as we kissed he sent his cock plunging deeper into me. I arched my back as I was forced to take more cock deeper into my ass than ever before.

“Yes, fuck me, Mr. Walz.” I found myself saying when he broke our embrace, “Give it to me, Mr. Walz. Make me yours!”

And he did just that. Mr. Walz started fucking me hard and fast. I took each of the strokes of his his old manhood willingly. I wanted to give him total pleasure and I could tell from the far away look in his eye that the old man was as lost in me as I was in him. I knew he was getting close, and I didn’t want to stop him, so I didn’t say a word about pulling out. Having only had sex with his wife for all those years, he didn’t think of it either. Soon he was filling my ass with ropes of cum, and I felt it filling me up.

After we got off and caught our breath, he looked at me and we both started laughing and telling each other how glad we were that we'd just met up today.

#Mr. Walz #tim walz #fan fiction #politician

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yesihaveaobsession · 2 days

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Secret Romance

Alastor x female reader

Summary: Secretly dating The Radio Demon himself and sneaking around so the other hotel patrons don't get suspcious.

A/N- WARNINGS??- Alastor being flirty? Kissing? Anyways hope y'all likeeeee... <3

You and Alastor had been secretly seeing each other for months, slipping away whenever you could to be alone. The thrill of sneaking around was intoxicating; it honestly made you feel young again... even though you were both grown adults. The secrecy, however, made things complicated—especially because the Hazbin Hotel was filled with eyes and ears. Alastor, the Radio Demon, had always been charming, but no one would suspect he could have a soft spot for anyone, let alone you.

Tonight was no different. You had been helping Charlie around the hotel all day, but it was later, when the night had grown darker and everyone was winding down in their separate rooms, that you made your way through the hotel's now dimly lit corridors. You tiptoed past a few residents' rooms.

When you opened the door to a room that was still in renovation mode—just as Alastor had mentioned in the note he'd left for you—you found him already waiting, his back to the window, his hands casually behind him as he hummed a jazzy tune. The soft glow of his red eyes locked onto yours as you entered.

"Ah, darling," he purred, "Right on time." You closed the door behind you, the faint creak of the hinges reminding you just how secretive you had to be. No one could find out. It would cause too much drama, especially with the way the others saw Alastor... dangerous, unpredictable, and manipulative. But you, you saw a different side of him—one that made your heart race.

“You make it sound like I’m late," you teased, stepping closer, your fingers brushing his arm. Alastor chuckled and took your hand, pulling you gently toward him. "Perfection, my dear, is always punctual." You rolled your eyes at his playfulness, but you couldn’t deny the warmth you felt every time you were near him.

Being around Alastor was like dancing with danger, but you loved it. In moments like this, the world faded away, and it was just the two of you.

"So," you whispered, looking up into his eyes and leaning in slightly, "what's the plan this time? Sneak out through the window? Or do you have some other trick up your sleeve?”

In the beginning, when the two of you first started seeing each other privately, Alastor wasn’t really great at physical affection—he wasn’t a good kisser and didn’t know how to place his hands on your hips or engage in physical contact beyond linking arms or holding hands occasionally. But over the months, he'd gotten much better.

Alastor grinned, a wicked spark lighting up his features. "As tempting as it is to whisk you away into the night, I’m afraid we'll have to settle for a quieter meeting. The others have been... suspicious lately.” He leaned in slightly, causing you to raise an eyebrow. "Suspicious?"

"Mm-hmm." He added as he spun you around with such grace. You let out a small giggle as he slowly dipped you, then pulled you back up and closer. The smile that possessed his face never seemed to falter. “But no need to worry, my dear. They’ll never catch on. After all, they don’t expect someone like me to fall for someone like you.”

There it was—the vulnerability behind his usual confidence. No one expected the Radio Demon to have romantic feelings. And for him to reveal them to you, of all people? It was a secret you both treasured, making these stolen moments even more precious. You reached up, resting a hand on his chest. He didn’t flinch, and you could feel the steady beat of his heart beneath his sharp suit. “They won’t find out,” you promised softly. “We’re too good at this.”

Heck, yeah, you two were. You were like ninjas at this point. Alastor's smile widened as he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Oh, I know, darling. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Should you two stop? Probably. But the truth was that you had feelings for each other, and the excitement that filled you was unbeatable. For a while, the two of you just stood there, bathing in the moonlight that shone through the window behind you. The silence between you was comfortable, even as Hell's usual chaos carried on outside. In the Radio Demon's arms, you felt safer than in any other relationship you'd been in.

But, as always, the time came for you to part for the night. You sighed, reluctantly pulling away, already missing the warmth of his arms around you. “I should go before someone notices I’ve been gone too long.”

He nodded in understanding, though he felt the same as you. "Yes, yes, we can’t have anyone getting suspicious, can we?” he said quietly. You gave him a playful smile before heading to the door, but just as you reached for the handle, Alastor's voice stopped you.

"One more thing, dear..."

You turned, and in an instant, he was in front of you, his lips meeting yours in a kiss so sudden yet so sweet that it took your breath away. When he pulled back, his smile was softer, more genuine than usual.

“Until next time,” he whispered.

You gave him one last glance before slipping out the door, your heart racing as you made your way back to your room. The thrill of the secret affair lingered long after you left, knowing you’d soon be sneaking off again for more stolen moments with the man who had captured your heart.

#alastor #hazbin hotel #the radio demon #alastor x you #hazbin alastor #alastor x reader #alastor imagine #i have an obsession

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chaos-in-deepspace · 3 days

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LADS Xavier: Buzz | NSFW

Ahahaha it goes buzz in this one, guys.

Unedited Drabble

Pairings Xavier x Reader Warnings Public Play, Vibrators in Ass, Bottom Xavier Disclaimer: This is an original fan work for “Love and Deepspace”. Do not repost on other platforms or plagiarize. All characters shown in this fic is 18+.

Blog Information | Masterlist

Xavier

Xavier let out a sigh as you two made your way to the store. His hand holding your own with his fingers laced between yours. He had a content smile on his face as he bumped his shoulders into your own. You looked up at him, shooting him a smirk.

"And pray tell, what has you so happy, bunny?" you asked, already knowing the answer. He had a subtle blush on his cheeks and despite how embarrassed he was with the current situation, he couldn't help the excitement building in him. He tugged at the hem of his cardigan with his free hand, playing with the edges of it.

"It's nothing," he assured you as you finally got to the store. The air was cooler than it was outside as you made your way in. You looked over the list of items you needed to grab and looked over at him.

"Alright, come on, baby boy," you said, not even bothering to be quiet. He tensed up for a moment at the blatant nickname, but it wasn't like there was anyone else around at the moment. He let go of your hand as he took the list from you, going over the items on it.

"We should start with things that don't need to be in the fridge," he murmured, already walking over there. You chuckled, your own hands in your hoodie pocket. The nice white fabric was soft and cozy, as one would expect from a hoodie owned by Xavier.

You watched as he looked down the aisle until he found what he needed. You couldn't stop yourself from playing with the little remote in your pocket, the smooth object only being interrupted by the buttons.

Then you watched Xavier kneel down. You checked the surrounding area and once you were certain it was clear, you clicked it on. The reaction was immediate as Xavier dropped the loaf of bread he was picking up. A small gasp escaping him as his shoulders tensed up. Really it had been him to suggest this kind of play. Your naughty bunny always having fun ideas for the two of you.

Still, the shit eating grin on your face spread as you watched him slowly turn his head. His face had a giant flush on it and he adorned a pout. Those cerulean eyes pleading with you as you clicked it off. You were satisfied with the fact that the buzzing couldn't really be heard, but you just knew he felt every single piece of the prostate massaged he had up his tight heat.

"D-did you really turn it to the highest setting," his voice was a hushed whisper and you couldn't help but laugh, covering your mouth to stifle the grin.

"Babes…that was not the highest setting," your voice was also low as you looked around. Then you clicked the toy again, putting it as high as it would go. This time you could hear the buzz of it and it had him dropping on his knees, using his hands to support him in the middle of the aisle as he covered his mouth to stop the moan.

You were quick to turn it off for his sake, not wanting to draw any attention. While this was fun for the two of you, you highly doubted any onlookers would be impressed. Xavier took a moment to catch his breath, shooting you a small glare. He stood up on slightly wobbly feet and coughed into his fist.

"You were right," he mumbled out. You couldn't stop yourself from taking hold of his shirt and quickly dragging him down for a kiss.

"Sweetheart, did you need to use the restroom real fast?" you muttered against him. You watched his throat bob as he swallowed thickly. He tried clearing his throat as he looked around. His hand going to cover his mouth and look away from you.

"I'll be fine," you clicked it again at his words and his hand found purchase on your shoulder as you turned it back off, "I think," he got out.

"We'll see about that. We're only on our first item of the evening. You going to be okay? Still want to do this?" you asked, giving him an out if he needed it. You guys hadn't even tested the toy before going into public with it.

Xavier only cleared his throat and nodded, "Yes, I am very okay," he took your hand and began leading you through the store, his pace quicker now.

#loveanddeepspace #love and deepspace #Xavier Love and Deepspace #Lnds #Lnds Xavier #lnds x reader #x reader #reader insert #xavier x reader #l&ds #l&ds xavier #l&ds xavier x reader #lads x reader #lads xavier #lads xavier x reader

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katerinaaqu · 3 days

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Ismarus! Ismarus!

Another random inspiration I dedicate to my friend @artsofmetamoor Title inspired by the cry of Alexander the Great's army when they ellegedly telled "Thalatta! Thalatta!" ("Sea! Sea!") out of delight to reach the sea while here it is spoken in a different manner altogether

Odysseus was feeling his stomach unsettled and that was not normal for a man like him who as used at the movements of the ship. The storm was very severe after they left Troy. Perhaps, though, it wasn’t the storm itself that made him feel seasick but rather the timing of it and the conditions that brought the storm to their way.

“The storm happened right after the departure from Troy…divided us. Gods, this godsforsaken war! Blasted war!”

He remembered he prayed to Athena for forgiveness on the events that occurred at Troy. His brain was still turning like the top making his already turning stomach even more unsettled than it should be. All the scenarios, all the “what if”s and “what if not”s were roaming around his mind like the voices in the nightmares he was getting!

“I should have said something!” he thought for a billionth time to himself, “That girl was innocent! Blasted Achilles! Blasted Neoptolemus! Blasted war! I should have said something in the council! I should have stopped them! Agamemnon tried! Why not I? Why not I?”

For some reason he was numb; the massacre of Troy had taken all life out of him. Upon the news of the interpretation given by Calchas that the spirit of Achilles demanded his own tribute, Odysseus couldn’t react. He couldn’t say a single word of objection to the council. He had found no reason or energy to oppose anymore… He remembered Polyxena, the way her eyes became glassy with death as Neoptolemous pierced a knife through her tender heart. He remembered he had to hold her down. He realized all he could do was to plead for them to give her a painless death! Hecuba went mad in sorrow in his arms…he still remembered her screams! He still remembered the cries of Astyanax as he fell off the walls…he remembered the accusations of Andromache at Troy! His stomach turned again and this time he couldn’t keep it in. He leaned to the edge of the ship to throw up whatever contents he had left in his stomach (which wasn’t much, he noticed. He barely had some acid in there for they hadn’t eaten anything for days because of the storm!). He felt Polites’s arms to his shoulders.

“You okay?”

“Yeah…” Odysseus lied mopping his mouth with his hand, “It is this blasted storm! And we haven’t eaten anything for days. That is not good for seasickness…”

His lie came easily to his lips. Many of his men also suffered after all so it wasn’t completely unbelievable. Polites nodded as well so that would be enough for now (even though he knew Polites had heard him moan in his sleep many times over as nightmares plundered his mind ever since the sacking of Troy or the events that followed it). He looked around and inspected the sad condition of his companions. The storm had blown off several of their provisions too and the rich gifts from Troy, or some of them at least. They probably also lost a couple of slaves in the sea. At least he noticed all his 12 ships were together so their fleet wasn’t divided from their own, even if he lost sight of all the other fleets of the Greek army.

“The gods are angry! Gods please…please have mercy on me! I just…wanted to go home… I didn’t know… I didn’t want any of this to happen!”

He was lying to himself and he knew it. He was ready to pay the price. Truly he never expected how high it would be but deep down he knew that just his ploy with the horse was bound to cause some anger to the gods. He just hoped that Athena, who blessed his wits with inspiration, would somehow be by his side. However after the slaughter and the human sacrifice, he couldn’t hear her voice anymore. What was worse, the winds divided them and the southern wind brought the severe storm that pushed them towards the north instead of the Aegean islands as they originally planned, so that they could travel south. And the storm had caused not only damage to the ships, but also made them lose plenty of provisions. It was obvious that they were out for some failure or some sort of a misadventure because of those.

“Blasted Troy!” he thought again, “You stole 10 of my best years! You stole my son from me, my wife and my home and now you pushed me to the edge! You made me a criminal to the eyes of my goddess! Blasted Troy I hope your ashes will never revive again! May you and your holy walls never raise their heads again like it happened after Heracles!”

“Now where the hell are we?” he wondered out loud, shading his eyes with his hand to see afar

“I do not recognize these waters…” Eurylochus said apprehensively, joining them, “I see no land around”

“But I do, look!” Odysseus pointed out

Eurylochus squinted his eyes to see (Odysseus feared that he was becoming a bit near-sighted with age. He was actually surprised his own eyes remained sharp as always). Indeed there was a land formation coming up from before them.

“You’re right!” Eurylochus said excited, “Finally we get some land to stop! Inspect the damages”

Odysseus leaned against the hull in deep thought.

“Last night the skies were dark. I couldn’t use the stars for guidance but the last time we were in Troy we had southern wind. It didn’t seem to change drastically so we should be heading north”

“You think of the island of Tenedos?” Polites asked

“No, this seems longer coastline than that. From where I am standing, looks like the mainland.”

“Hold on, are you telling me we are heading to Thrace?” Eurylochus suddenly seemed worried

“Most likely” Odysseus agreed gloomily

“Dammit!” Eurylochus mumbled, “We are heading towards enemy land again, then?”

“Perhaps. Not all Thracian tribes sided with the Trojans at the war but, truth to be told, they did support the Amazon raid. They didn’t have a reason to stand against them”

“So, in short, we’re screwed?”

“Perhaps…” Odysseus mumbled again feeling nauseous once more, “Perhaps not”

“Either way, we have no choice” Polites stated the obvious; “We need to stop to land. Our provisions are not enough to support us till the islands the way we are and we will need to inspect the hulls and ropes”

“Yeah…” Odysseus agreed, “Elpenor, jump on the craw’s nest! Your younger eyes will be useful now! Tell me what you see!”

Elpenor immediately obeyed, climbing to the mast from the ropes. He might have been the youngest but also he did have some good geography knowledge. Odysseus appreciated that. He looked towards the horizon and soon enough he could detect taller walls around a city, no doubt, surrounded with mountains. He didn’t need to have knowledge to know what it was.

“ISMARUS!” He announced on top of his lungs, “ISMARUS!”

“Shit!” Eurylochus mumbled banging the hull of the ship

Odysseus had to agree. They didn’t know much on Ismarus apart from its strategic importance for the Thracians. However he also knew that the people in it were called Cicones, the tribe of people that was spread across Thrace but called Ismarus some sort of capital city for them. He also knew they didn’t like to share their wealth with outsiders and they had no reason to like the Greeks. Quite frankly, they preferred to guarantee a safe passage to the Amazons for Troy rather than sheltering the Greeks on their way there. Once more he gagged, for some reason, causing Polites to try and support him at the sudden move but this time it was certain there was nothing in his stomach to come out so he just sighed to collect himself.

“Damn…” he mumbled more to himself than anybody else, mopping some sweat off his forehead with his hand

“Do you need some wine?”

“No, thanks Polites. I am fine. This is just a….reminder. No worries”

The land of Thrace came in sight and so did the walls of Ismarus. Odysseus could see from afar that the walls were consisted on a rough stone base and clay and wooden upper parts. He rubbed his beard in thought. He could see the smokes of the chimneys too. He couldn’t see much from inside the city itself but he noticed some clay outlines of the houses and some hay roofs like an average coastline city. It was nothing like the strong structure of Troy that was for sure. The city was built almost directly on the beach, making the position really strategic for someone who wanted to connect themselves with the sea, however the back was protected from the winds by the rough Thracian mountains. In theory it was cutting the line of escape from the people who wanted to flee from an upcoming catastrophe of their city. He gasped at his thoughts.

“What in the blasted hells of Tartarus am I thinking?! We just got out of a slaughter of a city and all I can think of is what we can use if we need to raid this place! What’s wrong with me!?”

The war was still in his system, he knew. Sacker of Cities, that’s how they called him back in Troy. Apparently he was thinking like one all the time now. Apparently his men were reading his thoughts or they were having a similar train themselves for Polites came close to him, leaning his large body next to him to the ledge.

“What do you think, Odysseus? Shall we raid this city?”

Odysseus scoffed and forced a smirk to his face.

“You just got out of war, Polites and you already fear you are losing your touch?”

“I’m just saying” Polites shrugged

“Polites is right up to one point, Odysseus” Eurylochus agreed, “The Cicones have no reason to offer us anything and they are half-barbarians. Maybe they do not know the customs of hospitality”

“Don’t they worship Apollo as their patron god?” Odysseus pointed out

“Irrelevant” Eurylochus pointed out, “They didn’t help us at the war now did they? They guaranteed passage to the enemy”

“I mean, who wouldn’t be afraid of the Amazons, Eurylochus?”

Odysseus stretched himself, breathing in the air.

“Either way we need to stop and inspect the damages. I say we send an embassy and ask for Xenia before we do something.”

“They won’t give it”

“Irrelevant. We need to go by the traditions that separate us from the barbarians, Eurylochus. If they push us too hard, we will make this place burn!”

The words came to his mouth much easier than what he thought they would. Sacker of Cities then…what people in Troy chanted about him was true after all.

“Should we announce our presence then?” Eurylochus snickered

“Oh, I am sure they know we are here. They saw us coming from a mile away! Our crimson sails are not exactly a discreet sight and they have a clear view at the sea!”

As if on the cue there was a shine or sheen of metal coming from the wall. A watchman had moved. Odysseus knew they knew they were here. So far so good, he thought, we shall tie to the bay, go about our business like nothing happens and ask for a share. If that doesn’t happen then damned this city be! They indeed beached their ships and climbed down to inspect. To their good luck most of the parts of the ship were intact. Just a few repairs to the ropes and all would be done; all would be as good as new.

“Gear up, just in case” suddenly Odysseus ordered, “We have company”

A neighing horse was what got their attention, when they managed to catch a glimpse of a man riding like the wind towards the city. Great…Odysseus thought, the meeting would happen sooner than expected. He caught a glimpse of Eurylochus reaching for his hunting bow. He stopped him with his strong hand upon the wood.

“Easy there, Eurylochus!” he said strictly, “Hold your blood lust for now and wait for it. We are being announced”

“But…we are helpless!”

“We are over 500 men experienced in war with our equipment intact. We must not act like headless chicken. But prepare yourselves just in case. Shooting the man now, will bring warriors at our steps, not ambassadors”

Apparently he was right for after a few hours, while he and his men were eating some dried fruit and bread they had with them, they heard the horses once more but this time they were more than one. Odysseus eyed them and placed the helm over his brow. He nodded to Polites and Eurylochus to come closer and to one or two captains from the other ships. They approached the riders on foot. Odysseus noticed their colorful clothing and their tattooed bodies. His resolve that they would actually give them hospitality was not determined in the first place but now he was almost certain they wouldn’t.

“Hello there!” he greeted the entourage, “I hope I am speaking to an embassy of peace. We are travelers and we seek shelter”

The man on the horse didn’t come down. He only barked some words in his dialect, which Odysseus didn’t recognize to its totality.

“Look…given that we do not speak your language and I can possibly recognize one or two words here and there, I suggest you to bring us an interpreter if we are to talk openly here”

He didn’t know if that was what his tone was doing; maybe he was coming off as more aggressive as he wanted to, the man on the horse spat at his feet. Odysseus looked up at him.

“Great…” he mumbled ironically, “This negotiation will not get us far. I seek passage for myself and my men. In the name of Zeus and Xenia. We bring gifts to exchange. We desire only provisions and hospitality”

“I will give you gifts!” said the man in his heavy Thracian accent

“Ah, marvelous. So you DO speak our language” Odysseus said mockingly again, “We are making progress”

“Your banner I recognize!” the man said again in his broken Common Greek, “You raid Troy, that did you!”

Oh shit… Odysseus thought. Our reputation precedes us. The man seemed furious.

“Outsiders have no place here. More Greeks who raided Troy!”

Odysseus’s eyes darkened. It was as if just the mere mention of Troy was bringing all his blood to his head; making his pulse practically hammering inside his eardrum.

“I understand you despise us and our nation, that much is as apparent as the sun above, my dear friend. I wouldn’t make such preposterous offer unless it was of outmost importance and a matter of survival for me and my men. You protect your city and I protect them. Our interests should be aligned instead of colliding”

Odysseus realized that war was inside him. He knew the man was not fluent in Greek so he felt like using every official or long word he knew, hoping to confuse him, impress him or piss him off even further. He didn’t know which. Apparently happened the latter for the man spat at his feet once more, glaring daggers at them.

“You and your kin go!” the Cicones ambassador roared, “We give no shelter to traitors here!”

“Careful, my dear man” Odysseus now replied feeling his patience running short, “Zeus punishes those who disobey his law! And you speak to those who, as you said, stepped their feet into the holy castle of Troy! Your little town will not be that difficult to take, that much I guarantee you!”

“Leave this place!” the man replied

He stirred his horses and trotted away. Odysseus remained silent for a second. Yes, the insult was great to take, even if he deep down knew indeed they had no reason to like them in the first place.

“Captain” Eurylochus spoke again, “Shall we gather up the captains and negotiate our next move?”

A tiny essence of smirk played to the corner of his lips. He wasn’t sure if it was some weird eagerness and battle fever or whether it was just himself being sarcastic at his own attachment to that. Either way his eyes followed the trotting entourage of Thracians going back to their city.

“Sure…why not?” he heard himself whisper.

“The city doesn’t seem overly protected” one of the captains pointed out, “That could indicate protection from the inside. I am not sure if I would risk a confrontation at the walls”

“I double that” another one said watching at the rough sketch of the area they drew upon the sand, “Maybe we can lure them out at the field”

“Haven’t you seen them?” Eurylochus pointed out, “They don’t use carriages or chariots. They fight directly from the horses! Odysseus’s chariot was damaged into the storm but even if it was ready now it will be hard for it to navigate at the plain”

“Odysseus, how many people do you estimate the city to have?” one of the captains asked

“Hard to tell” the king of Ithaca admitted, “The city seems well-built but not too big. Worst case scenario it would be of around 4000 people”

“The odds would still be 4-1” Eurylochus pointed out, “We are not enough for it. The odds are not bad but they are not very good either”

“Indeed which is why I hope the most optimistic estimation is the correct one. Let’s say around 2000 people”

“But, Odysseus you count in women and children?” Polites asked

“Yeah that’s right. If we say they are around 2000 in there then logically half should be women and children”

“That leaves is around 1000 men and possibly a portion of them are warriors”

“That makes the odds 2-1” Eurylochus spoke again, “Sounds much better for us”

“Yes…if they remain within the walls…”

“We must send a scout team just in case, to see the weaknesses around it”

“Guys!” Polites now came in, “We are talking as if we shall begin the attack already!”

“Do you see another option, Polites?”

Odysseus hummed in thought.

“Well…in theory we could avoid the bloodshed if we took the course across the mainland or till we meet the islands…”

He made a move with his hand as if saying “maybe”

“How many provisions do we have?”

“Maybe for one week?” Polites suggested, “And that would be if we reduced our food to the minimum and hunted”

“In a Cicones forest?” Odysseus commented, “Right…”

“Perhaps fishing then?”

“That could work but it is not sustainable on the long run” Odysseus thought out loud, “We have also the slaves, the men and the horses to feed. In theory we could make it to another port before our provisions ran out but…”

“What guarantee do we have that we won’t run in the same problem?” Eurylochus pointed out

“Exactly. And besides…” once more that almost automatic smirk played to the edge of his lips, “The refusal of hospitality when someone makes plead to the gods has consequences. They know it! There is plenty of food there for sharing and we have things to return their hospitality with but…”

He hit his fist on the ground.

“Yes, I believe we must charge as soon as possible while the sword is flaming hot!”

“What are you planning?” Eurylochus asked again, “Surround the city?”

“It could work but we will run out of provisions before they do and we are cut off from the rest of the world here. I will not risk it all in a siege”

“And I refuse to spend another day waiting for cities to fall! I’ve had enough! Gods refuse to help us. We need to do something of the situation we got ourselves through. Our men are too many to feed. I cannot risk another open sea passage!”

He caught himself making excuses about it to himself; as if trying to justify the actions that he was already planning but in the end of the day perhaps it was true after all; he was the Sacker of Cities; a man of war. Perhaps that was what was left of him after the massacre…after all the atrocities he had to indoctrinate or perform in the holy city of Ilium. Athena was by his side back then; other gods were as well. He knew it was wrong what happened and yet the gods were with them. He didn’t understand why now…why now they refused to hear his prayers or rather he didn’t want to accept that the whole ploy would turn against the entire fleet and not just against him! He was afraid and worried; what if that indeed befell upon his family? What if the sin he prayed so much to Athena to protect his family from was to be fulfilled? What if Athena didn’t heed his desperate plea at Troy? Because Achilles wanted a concubine and because Calchas couldn’t keep his mouth shut!

“Agamemnon! Gods, Agamemnon now I understand you! This man predicted not a single good thing for us in his entire life! He made us both monsters who sacrifice virgins to the void! Cursed his name! Cursed his legacy!”

Polites smirked, unaware of the turmoil in his soul.

“That’s right! We have Odysseus with us! He took Troy in one night! I am sure this will be child’s play for him!”

“Why, thanks for the faith, Polites…” Odysseus said ironically, “I hope I will live up to your expectations!”

“You already have a plan?” Erilochus now pitched in, flabbergasted

“Perhaps…” Odysseus murmured thoughtfully, rubbing his beard, “I might have something but we need to organize ourselves quick”

“Yes sir!”

“And we kill no women and children!” Odysseus said, his eyes suddenly darkening

“Polyxena…Astyanax…Hecuba… No! No more women and children! Penelope… My sweet Telemachus…Ma… No, no more women and children!”

“Yes sir” the others agreed

“No rapes, no violations! Am I clear?”

“Yes, sir”

“As for the city…”

He stopped. His eyes were bottomless. His heartbeat was steady. The nausea of guilt had passed; suddenly giving his gut the weird sensation of the bloodlust he felt in battle when fighting for his life. However now it felt different.

“…Burn it down!”

“Yes! Let it burn! This and all the allies of Troy! Cursed city! If only it was never founded by the immortals! If only it never rose again from the hands of mighty Heracles! Yes, let them burn! All of them!”

“Yes sir!”

Odysseus filled a cup of wine. He took half a sip and raised it up.

“And let the blood of their men be upon their hands! So it was written, let it be done!”

He poured the rest down to the sand. The red liquid was almost immediately absorbed in the golden sand of the unfriendly land. It only left a red stain behind.

Like the blood that was shed in war.

~*~*~*~

Cicones were tribes of Thrace and Thracians were known for their great skill in riding horses among others. The exact location of Ismarus is not known although it is connected to some landscapes in Thrace.

So arguably one of the most controversial to the modern eye action that Odysseus did after he left from Troy was the conquest of the city of Cicones Ismarus. I am surprised I do not see more people talk about it!

In the Odyssey, Odysseus doesn't specify the reasonings behind the attack but it is left to be assumed that it was for piracy; so that they would plunder provisions for the safe passage. I tried to see how that would befall so I started the story with the general outline and then try to figure out how they would go.

Odysseus referring to the contempt and to Adromache or even to some events, it is a wink to my story Guilt Part2 The momet of madness of Hecuba are based on sources such as the tragedy Hecuba and other roman sources but also a wink to a fic that I had in mind for the far future, kinda like a light spoiler.

Like before as I mentioned to my gift story to @dionysism once more got inspired by the same composer Kostas Kapnisis for this one. Specifically for the scene where the Cicones spy runs to warn the city, I was inspired by the piece "Ξεσηκωμός" ("Rise Up"):

youtube

Language or dialect barrier between Thracians and Odysseus was just another thing I thought I could add to make the story more believable. Also Odysseus being kinda an ass as well even if he is suffering deep down.

Usually I do depict his positive traits and sneak in his negative (for example in my story about their escape from Polyphemus). So now we have also a bit more negative traits with sneaking in some positive as well.

The Cicones being a potential ally of Troy or at least assisting them is purely my invention here in an essence that Thrace and places like Themyscyra (if that is among the Skythians) are close to each other geographically and potentially culturally too at some cases.

Odysseus mentions "more than 500 men" because undoubtedly they did suffer losses at Troy. Just the bare minimum they could (probably around 10% of them or around 80 men)

Part 2 might be coming back soon.

Sorry if I forget anyone.

A small mention to amazing people that honored me with comments, feedback or reblogs before:

@simugeuge @loco-bird @smokey07 @adrift-in-thyme @marieisnothere12 @dilutedh2so4 @freetyphoonglitter @tunguszka20 @ilov3b00kss0much @fangirlofallthefanthings @cr4zy-cycl0n3 @superkooku @shafeeyaart @hermesmoly @insomniphic @blueflipflops @venomspecs @theyugiohfanartistwritersblog

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nynyhaha · 2 days

Text

Do you think Chrollo expected the Troupe to last 12+ years? The expectations set at the start largely determine his current views. How good did they do?

Now Ofc he’d want it to ✨last forever✨ or as long as possible,but how long did he think they’d actually get to live?

Chrollo in yorknew carries himself with a confidence that the Spider will live on way beyond him,we somewhat feel like the adventure is only starting. But at the same time he is lost and doesn’t really know the direction the Troupe is heading in.

At the start he mentioned offering up their lives in order to: -find Sarasa’s murderers and get revenge -free Meteor City from crime/mafia so that no child can be kidnapped again

We know the troupe later also broke the deal where Meteorians are exchanged for money. This is a significant achievement,it implies the Spider provides enough money instead,and it hints at the fact that the previous points are already done,that Chrollo has achieved what he planned.

Those were things that he was ready to die for,things for which the others were also ready to sacrifice themselves. And that’s what they kind of expected,right?

My theory is that they greatly surpassed their expectations.

If they were still fighting for any of the above,we wording have this sense of directionless roaming around that is present in the yorknew arc. The Spiders seem to be beyond the theme of revenge unless it directly affects them. Uvo even said he hates those who fight him for revenge reasons (and I wonder why).

Maybe little Chrollo would’ve marvelled at the progress he managed to make in those years,but he probably couldn’t know how it would affect his psyche. He knew he’d become a “villain” but he probably meant that he’d be fighting for a noble end using bad means. What is that end now?

The Spider needs some sort of plan to justify its existence. For its death to be a tragedy,it needs the will to live and some goal to achieve. Or is it a question of a candle stump losing its flame once it’s burned down?

Should the Spider just retire?

If they have achieved all of their previous goals,the answer could well be yes. Sadly those goals aren’t milestones that you have to reach once and for all,but Meteor City’s safety is fragile and needs maintenance.

And yet,it’s never stated as the reason why the Spider has to keep moving. Maybe to the characters it’s obvious,but we as the audience can only speculate. Also it would make the problem way too simple.

“Oh the Spider is still needed back at home” Ofc it is,duh,but that’s not enough to satisfy the quest for meaning.

It would be interesting if the Troupe started out as a team that’s some sort of necessary evil (and the backstory chapters present it in such light) but now that all it’s done it’s no longer necessary so just evil, but they don’t see it as such.

You know,a band of child soldiers that grew up and is now terrorising the world because their original purpose is completed.

But how is the Troupe unnecessary when it’s the solution to the Mafia problem? It’s rather that they don’t know how much more that can do and how much of that will matter at the end.

No one is forcing them. All of their duty is “self inflicted”,they chose to carry that burden.

Are they suffering from success?

Chrollo thought on the way to avenging Sarasa he might loose his own life or some of his friends. He made that commitment still,and then they all survived. Ok,they lost number 8 & 4,but those weren’t original members and it’s still lucky that the rest made it all the way to yorknew. Yk,after they’ve already done what they wanted (and yes,they have already found the murderers,fight me on that, I KNOW its the truth).

So Uvogin and Pakunoda didn’t die on the way,but after they’ve arrived at the top.(But at the top there was nothing :()

Is that to say that they could’ve hopped off and lived a safer life? At this point they were unable to. Much like Chrollo,they might not have a proper self outside the Spider. AND YET the reason it hurts so much is because they died for the Spider after it lost its main goal. This is why Chrollo quickly needs a reason to ground it all since they couldn’t have died for nothing.

There must be a reason why they’re still doing this other than “we can’t otherwise”, right?

RIGHT?

In conclusion, Chrollo is what happens after one survives the “Kurapika arc” and completes his revenge. He might be free to live on,but after he threw away his life and morals already,this existence looses meaning and so do all deaths for the sake of it.

#phantom troupe #chrollo lucilfer #meteor city #hxh #pakunoda #yorknew city #uvogin #hxh headcanons #chrollo #existential crisis

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chrzzboo · 2 days

Note

are ur requests open??? (if not don’t respond to this lol)

but if they r, could you do kind of an angst fic. Like maybe pedri and reader are twins (maybe a small ferran x reader???🤭) where like readers on barca F and they win Liga f and reader rly hopes for pedri to be there and when he’s not they have like a huge arguement and stuff and ferran comforts her?

Broken promises

Summary: after the reader wins her first ever Liga she couldn’t help but be over the moon. Expected to celebrate her win with her twin brother Pedri took an unexpected turn.

Note: hi hey yeah hello, I’m back from the death. I had a very busy period but everything has slowed down a bit so, here I’m with a new fic. I hope you guys enjoy it!!!

Reader x Pedri (siblings) Ferran x reader

Genre: Fluff/angst

Y/N and the rest of the Barca Feminine team celebrated on the pitch, victorious after winning the Liga F. The crowd cheered and chanted, ecstatic for the team's achievement. Y/N should have felt the same, but there was something missing – Pedri, her twin brother, was nowhere to be seen. Disappointed, Y/N's happiness turned to mild irritation.

She thought, "Of all days, why isn't he here?"

Pedri had promised to be there to celebrate Y/N's victory. He even had a perfect seat, but as usual, he couldn't keep his word. He was always too occupied with his own team and career.

Pedri sat on the team bus, exhausted and frustrated as the team got ready to leave. He knew Y/N would be upset, but he couldn't help it. He tried to shake off the guilt, reasoning with himself, "I'll apologize later. She'll understand. She always does."

Y/N had no idea why she even expected Pedri to show up. He had failed her countless times before, but she always got her hopes up anyway. She looked around the celebrating team, trying to enjoy the moment. Suddenly, Ferran approached her, apparently he didn't join the rest of the team on the bus. A warm smile on his face.

"Hey, congratulations!" he said, his voice filled with genuine excitement.

Y/N forced a smile, trying to hide her disappointment. "Thanks," she replied, her voice a bit strained. Ferran noticed the hint of sadness in her eyes. "You okay?" he asked, his expression turning inquisitive.

Ferran frowned, noticing Pedri nowhere, clearly not impressed with Pedri's absence. "Seriously? Again?" he commented, shaking his head disapprovingly. "He promised he'd be here, right?"

Y/N nodded, the disappointment returning stronger. "Yes, he did. But, well, here we are," she said with a shrug, trying to play it off. She didn't want to dwell on it, especially not in front of Ferran.

Ferran could tell that Y/N was trying to hide her frustration, but he knew her well enough to see through it. "Hey, don't worry about it. I mean, you guys won, that's awesome," he said, his eyes sparkling with admiration.

"Yeah, you're right," Y/N agreed, a slight smile appearing on her face. She appreciated Ferran's attempt to cheer her up. He had a knack for making her feel better, even in the midst of her disappointment. "You were amazing out there by the way," Ferran added, giving her a friendly nudge. His compliment caught her off guard, a blush spreading across her cheeks.

"Oh, thanks, I... uh, I just did my best," Y/N stuttered, a bit taken aback by his compliment. She wasn't used to being praised, especially not by a player from the main team.

Ferran chuckled at her reaction, clearly enjoying her blush. "Don't be modest," he teased. "You led your team to victory. That's nothing to brush off."

Y/N's heartbeat quickened as she looked at Ferran. He always had this effect on her, making her heart race and her stomach flutter. She tried to downplay it, but she couldn't deny the undeniable attraction she felt towards him.

As they continued talking, Y/N found herself feeling more at ease. Ferran's easygoing nature and kind words made her forget, albeit temporarily, about Pedri's absence. However, the thought of her twin brother still nagged at the back of her mind.

Just then, the team bus started pulling away from the stadium. Y/N noticed the vehicle as it rolled past them, her disappointment returning with a sharp pang. Pedri was there.

"Looks like he's on his way," she muttered sarcastically, but loud enough for Ferran to hear.

"Huh," Ferran said, glancing at the moving bus. He then turned back to Y/N, the concern obvious in his eyes. "Are you gonna confront him?" he asked, his voice gentle yet worried.

Y/N sighed, a mixture of frustration and fatigue taking over. "Honestly, I don't know," she admitted. "I want to talk to him, but I'm tired of all the arguing. We've been through this countless times before. I just... I don't know if it's worth it."

Ferran placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, his touch warm and reassuring. "You know," he began, "Pedri can be a bit... self-absorbed at times. He gets so wrapped up in his own world that he forgets about the people around him."

Y/N nodded in agreement, appreciating Ferran's understanding. "Yeah, I know," she replied, running a frustrated hand through her hair. "It just feels like he doesn't care. He keeps breaking his promises, and I... I don't know how much more of this I can take."

Ferran's expression softened as he saw the hurt in Y/N's eyes. "I get it," he said softly. "But maybe you should talk to him. You two are siblings, after all. You don't want this to create a rift between you guys, right?"

Y/N let out a deep sigh, leaning back against the wall behind her. "I know I should," she admitted, her voice tinged with resignation. "But it's just so exhausting. Every time I bring it up, it turns into a full-blown argument. I'm tired of constantly reminding him about his promises, you know?"

Ferran nodded, understanding her frustration but still urging her to address the issue. "I get it, but sometimes, uncomfortable conversations are necessary," he advised. "If you don't talk to him, this resentment will build and eventually boil over. It's not healthy for either of you."

Y/N knew Ferran was right, but she didn't want to face the confrontation. She knew it would end in a fight, and she just didn't have the energy for it right now. "You're right," she acquiesced with a sigh. "But I can't deal with this tonight. I'm mentally exhausted and emotionally drained. I need some time to cool down first."

Ferran smiled sympathetically, recognizing her need for space. "That's fair," he said reassuringly. "You don't have to confront him right now. Give yourself some time to rest and gather your thoughts. But don't let this fester, okay? Promise me you'll talk to him soon."

Y/N nodded, appreciation for Ferran's understanding evident in her eyes. "I will," she assured him. "I promise I'll talk to him. Just... not tonight. I need some time to calm down first."

Ferran smiled, satisfied with her promise. He knew Y/N was stubborn, but he also knew she would keep her word. "Good," he replied with a nod. "You don't want this to become a long-term problem. The sooner you and Pedri talk about this, the better."

Y/N managed a small smile, touched by his concern. "Thanks, Ferran," she said, her voice almost a whisper. "I appreciate you listening and giving me some perspective. It's nice to have someone to talk to."

Ferran shrugged nonchalantly, his usual easy smile on his face. "Hey, that's what friends are for, right?" he replied, the casualness of his tone only somewhat hiding the warmth in his gaze.

Y/N couldn't help but feel a flutter in her chest at his words. The way he looked at her, with such a gentle, caring expression, stirred something in her that she'd been trying to ignore for a long time.

"Yeah, friends," she muttered, her voice a bit shaky. She quickly looked down, hoping that Ferran didn't notice her momentary weakness.

But Ferran did notice. He saw the way her eyes darted down, the way her cheeks reddened ever so slightly. He knew Y/N better than she realized, and he could tell that his words had an effect on her, despite her attempts to hide it.

However, he chose not to point it out, instead maintaining his casual demeanor. "You know, you did great out there today," he said, changing the subject. "You were like a lioness on that field."

Y/N's heart still pounded from his previous statement, but she managed to regain her composure. "Oh, thanks," she replied, rubbing the back of her neck sheepishly. "It was a team effort, you know. We wouldn't have won without everyone's hard work."

"True, but you were the MVP," Ferran teased, nudging her playfully. "You scored the winning goal, after all."

Y/N blushed at his compliment, still not used to such attention. "I was just in the right place at the right time," she insisted, trying to downplay her achievement.

Ferran chuckled at her modesty, finding it endearing. "Oh, come on. Don't be so humble. You had that goal in you. The way you positioned yourself, timed your shot... it was all skill."

He shifted slightly closer to her, his gaze fixed intently on her.

Y/N felt her heart race faster as he moved closer. The way he looked at her, with that intense gaze and warm smile, made her stomach flutter. She tried to ignore the effect he had on her, but it was getting increasingly harder to do so. "I... I guess I got lucky," she muttered, her voice betraying her nervousness.

Ferran shook his head, his smile becoming more wolfish. "No, it wasn't luck," he insisted, his voice lowering just a tad. "It was talent. You have a real gift, you know that?"

Y/N swallowed hard, her heart now jumping in her throat. His words, his proximity, the way he was looking at her... It was all too much. "You're just saying that," she muttered, unable to meet his gaze.

Ferran chuckled softly, amused by her reaction. He inched even closer, his breath now warm on her cheek as he spoke. "No, I'm not just saying that," he murmured, his voice a low timbre that sent shivers down her spine. "You underestimate yourself."

Y/N's breath hitched in her throat as he closed the remaining distance between them. His proximity was intoxicating, and she found it hard to form a coherent thought. "I... I don't know what to say," she whispered, her voice trembling slightly.

Ferran's smile widened at her flustered state. He found great pleasure in seeing her usual composed demeanor crumble because of him. He leaned in even closer, his words but a breath against her ear. "You don't have to say anything," he whispered back. "Just take the compliment."

Y/N shivered at the feel of his breath on her skin. She could feel her heart hammering in her chest, her pulse racing. She couldn't recall ever feeling this way because of someone's presence. It was overwhelming yet thrilling at the same time.

"Ferran," she began, her voice barely above a whisper. "I... I..."

Ferran pulled back just enough to look at her, his gaze now holding a mixture of heat and curiosity. "Yeah?" he prompted, his voice laced with a subtle hint of challenge. He wanted to hear what she was struggling to say, even though he had a feeling he already knew.

Y/N swallowed hard, gathering her courage. She looked into Ferran's eyes, her own filled with a mixture of confusion and... something else. Something she wasn't quite ready to acknowledge. "I... I don't know," she repeated, the words getting tangled in her throat. "I can't think straight when you're so close."

Ferran's smile grew. He knew he was affecting her, and it made his heart race. "Maybe that's the point," he teased, his eyes glinting with a hint of mischief. He took another half-step closer, reducing the space between them to mere inches.

Y/N's breath was coming in short gasps now, her chest rising and falling with each labored inhale. She could feel the heat radiating off of Ferran, the air between them charged with an electric tension. "You're such a tease," she managed to say, her voice hoarse.

"And you love it," Ferran shot back, his tone filled with a mix of confidence and playfulness. He reached out his hand, gently tucking a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. His touch sent tingles down her spine, and she unconsciously leaned into his touch.

Y/N closed her eyes, a small sigh escaping her lips at his touch. The way he could stir her emotions with just a simple gesture was dizzying. She knew she should step back, maintain some distance, but her body refused to cooperate. Instead, she found herself drawn to him, like a moth to a flame. The thought of confronting Pedri long forgotten.

"You're not the only one affected, you know," Ferran murmured, his voice lowered to a husky whisper. His fingers traced a light path along her jawline, trailing down to the base of her neck. "You're driving me crazy right now."

Y/N's eyes shot open, her breath catching in her chest. His words, coupled with his soft touch, felt like molten fire running through her veins. She was struggling to keep a hold on her sanity, her control slipping further and further. "You're not playing fair," she breathed, her voice betraying her growing desire.

"When have I ever played fair?" Ferran asked, a sly grin on his lips. His fingers continued their feather-light caress, moving now to her collarbone. He knew he was pushing her boundaries, testing her limits, but he couldn't help himself. He wanted her, and he was enjoying every shiver, every hitched breath he pulled from her.

In a swift, almost desperate move, Y/N closed the remaining distance between them, her body pressing tightly against his. Her hands found their way to his chest, gripping his shirt as if anchoring herself to reality. Ferran responded in kind, his arms encircling her waist, pulling her closer, tighter.

Their lips met, and it was like a shock to the system. The kiss was fierce and hungry, a clash of lips, teeth, and tongue. Y/N surrendered to the sensation, her inhibitions slipping away like waves on shore. Her heart pounded in her chest, the blood rushing in her ears, drowning out all other sounds but the thumping of their hearts beating in tandem.

Ferran matched her fervor, his hands roaming over her body, exploring the curves and lines that had haunted his dreams. He nipped at her bottom lip, wanting more, craving more. Y/N responded by burying her fingers in his hair, her nails scratching at his scalp, drawing a guttural moan from him.

They were a tangle of limbs and desire, each touch fanning the flames of their growing ardor. Ferran's mouth left a trail of kisses down her neck, each one more heated than the last. Y/N arched into him, her body seeking the closest contact, the most intense sensations.

The world beyond them faded, time becoming a hazy concept. The only thing that mattered was the feel of each other, the taste of their lips intertwined. Their bodies moved together in a rhythm fueled by desire, each touch and sigh stoking the fire between them.

But eventually, the need for air became overwhelming. Reluctantly, they pulled apart, panting and breathless. Ferran's forehead rested against Y/N's, his eyes locking onto hers, a mixture of awe and desire in his gaze.

"You're going to be the death of me," Ferran murmured, his voice thick with residual passion. His hands were still holding her hips, keeping her flush against him. Y/N could only respond with a breathless laugh, her heart racing and her body still humming with unfulfilled desire.

Ferran's smirk softened into a genuine smile as he gazed into Y/N's eyes. He knew he had to say something, to express the tumultuous feelings bubbling within him. Taking a deep breath, he slowly spoke.

"I... I need to tell you something," he began, his voice betraying a hint of nervousness. Y/N's heart skipped a beat, sensing the weight behind his words. She simply gave him a nod, encouraging him to continue.

Ferran took a moment to collect his thoughts. It was now or never. "For a while now, I've been struggling with something. A... a feeling, I guess you could say." He paused, his eyes searching hers, gauging her reaction.

Y/N's heart thudded in her chest, hanging onto every word he said. She could tell whatever he was about to say was important, momentous even.

Ferran went on, his words tumbling out now in a rush of honesty. "I've tried to ignore it, to push it down, but I can't do it anymore. I... I have feelings for you, Y/N. Deep, intense feelings. More than just friendship."

Y/N's breath caught in her throat. For a moment, she simply stared at him, the words echoing in her mind. Did she hear him right? Had he just admitted to having feelings for her, just like she harbored for him?

Ferran watched her, his expression a mix of hope and anxiety. He waited for her response, his heart in his throat.

Y/N, still trying to process his confession, found her voice. "You... you have feelings for me?" she managed to say, her voice barely above a whisper.

Ferran nodded, his eyes filled with an earnestness that made her heart flutter. "Yes," he replied simply. "I've tried to ignore it, to convince myself it was just a temporary thing, but... it's not. My feelings for you have only grown stronger. I... I've fallen for you, Y/N."

She could see how nervous he was, she never expected the Ferran to be this nervous especially since she was used to see him dominate the pitch. “I have put my feeling off for too many times Ferran, and I’m glad to share the same feelings as you.” She ended the confession with a confident smile.

“So now I have the right to call you mi novia huh.” He says with a smirk. “You have every right Mi tiburón.” She smiles at him.

She laughs at him. "Okay enough with the cheesy cringe confessions." They both laugh finally having found each other.

It was safe to say that the day ended in a perfect way, way better than both of them could’ve imagined.

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

The next day:

The morning after Ferran's confession, Y/N found herself at home, still reeling from the previous night's events. Her mind was spinning with a whirlwind of emotions, replaying Ferran's words over and over in her head. But as much as she wanted to lose herself in the memories of his touch and his confession, Y/N knew she needed to face another problem. Her twin brother, Pedri, and his tendency to break promises.

As a result, Y/N's mood was on edge. She tried to hide it, but her annoyance was evident as she saw Pedri lounging on the couch.

"Hey," Pedri greeted her with his usual carefree tone, not noticing the storm brewing in her eyes.

Y/N didn't respond immediately, her jaw clenching. She took a deep breath, trying to suppress the irritation rising within her.

Seeing her silence, Pedri sat up a bit, a puzzled expression on his face. "Something wrong?" he asked, finally noticing her tense demeanor.

Y/N took another deep breath, silently counting to ten to maintain her composure. When she spoke, her voice was calm, but there was a coolness to it. "We need to talk," she said, fixing Pedri with a stern gaze.

Pedri's eyebrows raised in surprise. He could sense the seriousness in her tone. "Okay," he replied cautiously, his easy-going smile fading slightly. "What did I do this time?"

Y/N clenched her fists, reminding herself to stay calm. "You know exactly what," she replied, her voice now holding a hint of sharpness. "It's about the promises you keep breaking. You know how much it bothers me, yet you continue to do it."

Pedri winced at her words. He knew he had a habit of making promises he couldn't keep, but he didn't like being reminded of it, especially in this manner.

"Hey, come on," he started, trying to downplay it. "It's not like I do it on purpose. Things just... happen, you know?"

Y/N's eyes flashed, her irritation growing. "No, that's just an excuse," she shot back, her voice rising slightly. "You promise things, and then you don't follow through. It's disrespectful and infuriating. I know you’re upset about not winning your title but that doesn’t give you the right to ignore my succes.”

Pedri ran a hand through his hair, visibly uncomfortable now. He knew she was right, but he didn't want to admit it. "I'm sorry, okay? I don't mean to make you upset."

Y/N took a step closer, her eyes never leaving his. "But you do upset me, every time you break your word. And it's not just about me. It's about respect, trust, and keeping your commitments."

Pedri's own annoyance flared up at her words, his defenses rising. "Fine, I get it, I mess up sometimes! But what about you, huh? You're always so perfect, so damn put together. Can't make a mistake, can you?"

Y/N stiffened, her eyes narrowing. "This isn't about me, Pedri. It's about you and your lack of responsibility."

Pedri huffed, his anger growing. "Oh, of course. Because everything is always my fault, right? You never do anything wrong."

Y/N's own patience was wearing thin, the calm veneer slipping away. "This isn't about whose fault it is, Pedri," she retorted. "It's about fixing the issue. And you can't just brush it off with sarcasm and deflection."

Pedri, now fully on the defensive, let his anger get the better of him. "Oh, so now you're playing the saint, huh? Always so righteous, so damn judgmental."

Y/N's temper flared as well. "And you're acting like a child, avoiding responsibility at all costs!"

Pedri clenched his jaw, his voice raising. "And what about you? Always so cold, so damn unapproachable. Can't you lighten up a bit?"

Y/N was on the verge of losing her composure completely. "This isn't about being fun or easygoing, Pedri. It's about being reliable and trustworthy!"

Pedri huffed, his frustration boiling over. "Oh, and I suppose you're the epitome of reliability, aren't you? Never make a mistake in your perfect little world."

Y/N's eyes flashed with anger, her own temper pushed to the brink. "No, I'm not perfect, but at least I don't make promises I can't keep! All you do is give me broken promises"

Frustrated and hurt by the argument with Pedri, Y/N stormed out of the house, tears pricking her eyes. She needed to get away, to clear her head and find some comfort. Only one person came to mind: Ferran.

With a resolute stride, she walked towards Ferran's house, her heart racing with a mix of hurt and anticipation.

As soon as Y/N slammed the door shut, Pedri knew he fucked it up but he was too stubborn to apologise and admit that he’s in the wrong.

As Y/N approached Ferran's house, she took a few deep breaths to compose herself, wiping away the stray tears with the back of her hand. She could see the familiar house in the distance, and her heart ached with a strange mixture of comfort and worry. What if he wasn't home? What if he was busy? Doubt and worry churned in her stomach, but she was too raw and emotionally exhausted to turn back now.

Gathering her courage, Y/N walked up to the door and knocked lightly. She waited anxiously, the sound of her pounding heart echoing in her ears. A moment later, the door opened, revealing Ferran, surprise etched on his face.

"Y/N?" he asked, concern evident in his voice. "Is everything okay?"

Y/N's breath hitched at seeing him, his concerned expression only making her emotions come to the surface even more. She tried to speak, but her voice caught in her throat, and a small sob escaped her instead.

Ferran's eyes widened, and he immediately pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly. "Hey, hey, it's alright," he murmured, his voice soothing. His strong arms wrapped around her, providing a comforting embrace.

Y/N buried her face in his chest, her tears now flowing freely. She clung to him, the weight of her argument with Pedri and the turmoil of her emotions overwhelming her. Ferran held her close, murmuring reassurances and rubbing comforting circles on her back.

With her face still buried in his chest, Y/N recounted the argument with Pedri, her voice tremulous. She spoke of the broken promises, the frustration, and the hurt that had led her to his doorstep. Ferran listened silently, his arms tight around her, providing a silent anchor.

After she finished speaking, Y/N pulled back a little, looking up at Ferran with tear-streaked cheeks. Her voice was small when she spoke. "I'm sorry to just show up like this... I didn't know where else to go."

Ferran's expression softened further, his eyes filled with understanding. "You don't have to apologize," he said gently, wiping a tear off her cheek with his thumb. "I'm glad you came to me. You don't have to face things alone, you know that, right?"

Y/N nodded, a fresh wave of tears threatening to spill over. Ferran's words, his caring demeanor, were what she needed. She leaned into him again, needing that physical reassurance.

"I just feel so tired and frustrated," she whispered, her voice muffled against his chest.

"I know," Ferran replied, his voice low and comforting. He lifted a hand, gently running his fingers through her hair. "But it's going to be alright. You'll figure it out."

Y/N looked up at him then, her eyes vulnerable. "How can you be so sure?" she asked, a hint of despair in her voice.

Ferran smiled down at her, his gaze unwavering. "Because I know you," he said simply. "You're strong, amor, stronger than you give yourself credit for. And whatever obstacles you face, you'll find a way to overcome them. You always do."

Y/N's lower lip trembled slightly at his words. She knew Ferran believed in her, and his faith was both humbling and bolstering. She clung to his words, letting them soothe her frayed nerves.

"But what do I do about Pedri?" she asked, her voice small.

Ferran thought for a moment, his hand still gently stroking her hair. "You can talk to him again when you both have cooled down," he suggested. "Try to explain how his broken promises affect you. But also, listen to his perspective. Communication is key in resolving conflicts."

Y/N nodded again, appreciating his advice. It made sense to talk to Pedri when they were both calmer. But the thought of another argument filled her with trepidation.

"What if he doesn't listen?" she asked, her voice betraying her anxiety.

Ferran's expression was one of gentle reassurance. "Then you've done everything you can," he said firmly. "You've tried to reach out, express how you feel, and that's all you can do. At the end of the day, it's up to him to listen and make an effort."

He paused, then added, "But remember, you're not alone. You have me, and I'm here for you, no matter what."

Eventually after a few hours at Ferran’s , Y/N decided to head back home. Ferran dropped her off and she went straight to bed, not caring about anything or anyone else.

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

The next day

The following day, Y/N woke up feeling a bit more composed after her tumultuous day. The argument with Pedri still weighed on her mind, but she had Ferran's reassurance and support to bolster her.

Pedri, too, was feeling the aftereffects of their argument. With a night's sleep, he had cooled down and realized the depth of his mistakes. In the morning, he couldn't bear the guilt and tension that hung over the house.

As Y/N sat at the kitchen table, quietly sipping her morning coffee, Pedri approached her, looking uncharacteristically contrite.

"Y/N," he began, his voice unusually quiet. "Can we talk for a minute?"

Y/N looked up, a flicker of surprise in her eyes. Seeing his demeanor, her defenses softened a bit, and she nodded. "Sure," she replied, gesturing to the chair opposite her.

Pedri sat down, a deep sigh escaping him. He ran a hand through his hair, clearly flustered. "I... I wanted to apologize. For yesterday."

Y/N remained silent, her eyes fixed on him, assessing his words. But she allowed him to continue.

Pedri continued, his eyes downcast. "I know I should have been there for you, but I was..." He took a deep breath, his voice quiet. "I was having a rough day too. I lost an important title, and I let my own disappointment and frustration get the better of me."

He glanced up at her, regret evident in his eyes. "It's no excuse, I know. But it's the truth."

Y/N listened, her expression softening further as he explained. She understood the disappointment of losing a match, the pressure and the expectations that went with it. It didn't excuse his broken promise, but it certainly shed new light on the situation.

She took a moment to process his words, then responded softly, "I appreciate your apology. And I understand that you were upset about the match."

"But," she added firmly, "That doesn't erase the fact that you broke your promise. I needed you, and you weren't there. My feelings were hurt, and your own disappointment doesn't negate that."

Pedri nodded, his head bowed in agreement. "I know. I messed up, and I let you down. I should have been there, no matter what."

He looked up at her, the remorse clear on his face. "But I want to make it up to you. If you'll allow me."

Y/N studied him for a moment. The genuine remorse in his eyes tugged at her, making forgiving him a lot easier.

"I'll allow it," she replied quietly. "But understand, this is a chance. One more broken promise, and I won't be as receptive."

Pedri's shoulders loosened with relief, a small smile on his face. He hadn't expected forgiveness to come this easily, but he was grateful for it.

"I understand," he reassured her. "I won't let you down again, I promise. I'll be there for you, no matter what hermana."

After their conversation, Pedri gathered his courage and stepped forward, wrapping his arms around his twin in a tight hug. He held her close, his voice a soft murmur.

"I'm sorry, Y/N," he said again, his voice gruff with emotion. "I'm sorry for breaking my promise, and I'm sorry for not being there for you when you needed me."

Y/N, feeling the weight of his words and the sincerity in his embrace, hugged him back, a mixture of relief and affection welling up in her.

"I forgive you," she murmured against his shoulder, the words holding not just forgiveness but also a note of understanding. "Just... don't do it again."

Pedri nodded, pulling back from the hug but still holding her by the shoulders, a small but genuine smile on his face. "I won't. I swear."

There was still much to talk about, many things to work through between them, but in this moment, they had taken the first step towards repairing their bond.

As they pulled away from the hug, Pedri couldn't contain his curiosity. He had a sly smile on his face as he looked at his sister.

"So," he began, clearly angling for some information, "What's up with you and Ferran?"

Y/N, catching on to his playful tone, rolled her eyes but couldn't help a small smile from forming.

"None of your business," she replied, but there was a hint of a blush on her cheeks that betrayed her words.

Pedri, encouraged by her reaction, continued to tease her. "Oh, come onnnn. You're not denying it, which means I'm right!" Y/N blushes slightly not really knowing how to answer her twin. “You’re not mad are you?”

Pedri's teasing smile softened into a more genuine one. "Nah, I'm not mad," he reassured her, although there was a hint of a teasing lilt to his voice. "Although, I do feel somewhat betrayed by my best friend for not telling me about this development between him and my sister."

He wagged a finger mock-scoldingly. "Next time, don't keep me in the dark, alright?"

Y/N laughed, feeling a little more relaxed now that they were back on their usual banter terms. "Oh, so now you're jealous that you weren't the first to know?"

Pedri feigned indignation, putting a hand over his heart. "Jealous? Me? I am deeply offended by that accusation!"

Y/N chuckled again, shaking her head. "Sure, sure. Just admit it, you're dying to know the details."

Pedri leaned against the kitchen counter, wearing an exaggeratedly dramatic expression. "Well, since you asked so nicely... yes, I am dying to know. Spill it!"

Y/N regales Pedri with the story of how she and Ferran got together, from the initial friendship to the blossoming romance. Pedri listens intently, interjecting with the occasional teasing comment or cheeky question.

As she finishes, Pedri grins widely. "Well, looks like love is in the air."

Y/N rolls her eyes, but there's a smile on her face. "Shut up."

Pedri laughs, then pulls her into a one-armed hug, his tone serious now. "I'm happy for you, you know. You deserve to be happy."

Y/N hugged him back, the love and gratitude she felt for her brother evident in her smile. "Thanks, Pedri. I appreciate that."

Pedri tousled her hair affectionately. "Anytime. Just remember, if that Ferran breaks your heart, I'll kick his ass."

Y/N laughed, pushing him jokingly. "Noted."

The end.

#pedri x reader #football imagine #pedri fanfic #pedri gonzalez x reader #pedri imagine #ferran torres #ferran x reader #ferran torres x reader #pedri #football fanfic #fc barcelona #fluff #pedri fluff #pedri angst #angst

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sadhours · 2 days

Text

the diner - part three

billy hargrove x fem!reader

cw: 18+ minors dni, stalking, murder, toxic relationship, trauma, hallucinations, flayed!billy, peeping Tom, horror

He survived. Somehow— someway. Billy survived. Took care of what he should have so long ago. But that monster lingers, still alive within him.

You’re an innocent girl who works next door to him and he can’t help himself. Could you help him or is he too sick?

part one - part two

read on ao3

He’s fucked up royally. Went and got himself caught. Spent two whole weeks expecting the cops to show up to his apartment or his work. It never happened. Half expected his boss to mention it, ask him why he’s peeping through girls’ windows. Nothing. Yet he won’t dare go into the diner.

Doesn’t go to your house for a week. He drives by to see if your car is there but it’s not. Goes to your ex boyfriend's place first, doesn’t see your car and then he goes to your parents house. Confirms you’re there. But Billy doesn’t investigate further. He goes home. Drinks himself into absolute oblivion. Drinks so much he talks to Maxine. But she’s not really there. It helps him though.

“I killed him,” he tells her, voice is so rough from the vomiting. He has to make sure the slugs are all gone. Checks twice a day. Pukes every morning and every night. No slugs.

“He deserved it,” Max tells him. She’s on his countertop. She’s curled into herself, she’s got dark eyes and greasy hair. Her clothes are covered in the slop of the upside down. Her face looks as sunken in as his feels. She fidgets a lot.

“He cried,” Billy offers, voice flat and emotionless as he relives it. “I told him I wished I’d done it sooner. Brought him to the monster. So I wouldn’t have to do the hard part.”

Maxine is curious. Wants details. “How did you do it?”

“Stabbed him. I don’t know how many times— a lot. It was messy,” Billy whispers. Knows the apartment is empty, though he’s staring right at a sickly step sister. A burdened one. A step sister who isn’t really here. He checked in— knew she was alive. In a rundown trailer with a drunken Susan. Blames himself. He knows Susan took a lot of the brunt of Neil but he paid for everything. Even if he hit Susan, he took care of her— kept her clean. He told Billy how he’d found her. How he saved her and her little girl. And Billy hated them. Because he couldn’t be saved. But he hated Max most because Neil didn’t touch her. Susan was in the same boat as he was. She knew how Neil was. First hand. Max only seen it secondhand. Max watched as Neil hurt him. Max heard it when he hit Susan. Crawled into Billy’s lap, sobbed and clung onto him. Billy apologized, told her he wished it was like it was before. Where Neil only had him to hurt. Told Max that her mom didn’t deserve this. That he did. Rubbed her tiny back as she cried into his neck and told him she missed her dad.

“I hope he suffered,” the image of Max tells him. Has this sadistic smile that looks foreign on her young face. She looks supernatural. Like a demon, maybe like the devil on his shoulder as he recounts this devpraved moment of his life.

“I liked it,” he exhales, “I felt so fucking good when the life left his eyes. I laughed. I couldn’t stop laughing.”

Max grins and nods.

“I kept stabbing him. Blood was gushing out everywhere. I was fucking covered in it but I couldn’t stop,” Billy whispers, his own lips curling up like the little demonic step sister on the counter. “He looked so fucking pathetic and weak.”

“I’m proud of you.”

Billy feels warm all over.

“You saved us.”

It’s his imagination. Neil left them as soon as he heard Billy had died. Billy wishes he had died. But he… he didn’t. He remembers the monster penetrating his skin and muscle and organs. He remembers staring into the strange girls eyes as it happened. But then he woke up. In that hellscape. Had to live in it for god knows how long. Worked his way around, killing weird demonic creatures until he saw this… thing in a tree. Like a mirror. And he shoved his hand through it, and there was something on the outside. So he crawled through it. Found himself in the woods of Hawkins. Covered in slime and filth.

He didn’t save Max. Or maybe he did. He’s not sure.

Max keeps smiling this creepy smile. Billy feels safe. He talks to her for hours and hours that night.

—

Billy’s elbow deep in an old Ford truck. One of the farmers here. He told the fucker it was time to retire the truck. The transmission is fucked, flooded with fluid. Can’t hold onto gears. But the guy insists it’s a quick fix so Billy sent him off, told him he’d try his best.

And he is. He’s covered in oil and fluids. Hair tied up and sleeves pushed up past his elbows. He’s completely dismantled the engine. And he’s chewing on his lip as he stares down at the parts laid out on the concrete floor of the shop when the bell dings. Alerting him someone’s come in. He’s the only one here so he ventures out to the front. Sees a confused looking you. An uneasy look on your face when you see him and he gets it.

“Hi.”

“My cars not working,” you say. “It won’t start.”

“You try to jump it?” he asks, grabbing a towel on the counter and tries to clean his hands.

You fidget with the strap of your purse as you shrug and admit, “I don’t know anything about cars.”

He heaves a sigh, looks back at the dumb ford and looks to you, “Where’s it at?”

“In the parking lot,” you answer softly. “I-I don’t know what I did.”

“Hey,” he shakes his head, “Shit happens. It’s okay. It’s probably a dead battery. Did you leave the headlights on or something?”

“No!” you reply, shaking your head profusely. “It was fine on the way here, I don’t know what happened.”

Billy grabs his keys, “Let’s try to jump it. Go stand by it.”

You nod and rush out of the shop. He gets in his car, drives the short distance to yours and parks in front of it before popping the hood. He’s fucked kind of. Now you know what car he drives.

He grabs his jumper cables from his trunk and walks back around. “Open the hood,” he instructs you. He likes you following his orders. You obey, watching as he connects the cables and he tells you to go try to start it. Nothing. It clicks and clicks.

“Press down on the gas!” he calls to you and again, nothing.

The two of you keep trying for a while before Billy decides to run into the shop. Grabs the right battery and brings it back out. Replaces yours with the new one but your car still doesn’t start.

“Alright,” he sighs, “it’s probably the alternator. Let’s get it into the shop. Put it in neutral and I’ll push, you just gotta steer.”

It’s kind of a frustrating journey. He has to keep yelling at you to turn the steering wheel as he’s pushing it. He hopes you recognize how strong he has to be in order to push your car. But then he’s screaming at you again to push on the breaks. But eventually, the pair of you get your car into the shop. He tells you to take a seat and he disappears to find the parts he needs.

Then he comes to you with an apologetic face.

“I gotta order something. Might take a week or two to get here,” Billy tells you, braces for you to be angry like most the fuckers that come in.

You just look defeated, “What’s wrong with it?”

“I think it’s just the alternator,” he replies, “it’s really an easy fix. But I don’t have it in stock.”

“A whole week? How am I supposed to get around?” you reply, voice so shy and quiet and sad and it kind of makes his dick twitch. He ignores it.

He shrugs, “I… I mean… we work next door to each other. I could drive you.”

The uncertainty— perhaps fear, is clear on your face. So he clarifies, “I mean if no one else could.”

There’s this weird feeling weighing in. He creeped into your window. You both know it. But when he was caught, he ran and he ignored you completely until now.

“Can you at least drive me to my parents?” you ask.

Billy nods, “‘Course. Let me lock up.”

“Oh, you don’t have to like, stop what you’re doing and right now,” you tell him, eyes all wide and pretty.

He laughs and shakes his head, points to the Ford and tells you, “I wanna burn this fucking thing so really, I need the time away.”

“Worse than my car?” you ask with a smile and he nods.

“This thing is deader than dead. A fix that costs more than the fucking whole truck but this dude insists it’s not that. As you can see, I’ve taken the whole engine apart and uh— as I thought, the fucking transmission is full of metal shards. So yeah, worse than your car,” he explains as he scratches the back of his neck.

“You know a whole lot about cars, huh?”

“I hope so. It’s kind of how I make money,” he says.

You nod. Subtle smile on your face. Like you know something he doesn’t. He wants to. He walks away to lock the place up, walks you out towards his car and lights a smoke before he gets inside. He asks for directions but Billy knows exactly where your parents live.

“Thanks,” you tell him. “I really appreciate the help… I have no idea what I did to make my car break.”

Billy laughs, turns towards you and shrugs, “Sometimes they break, nothing you did to make that happen.”

“I probably did something, my dad tells me I have to let it warm up and I never do,” you say and look ashamed as you say it.

“He’s right, but that’s not what caused this. Your car is like 20 years old, stuff is gonna break,” he insists.

The ride to your parents house is awkward— silent aside from the directions you mumble out. Billy smokes one after another Marlboro, keeps his body aimed forward without a glance your way. But in the small interior of his beat up car, he can smell you. A mostly unpleasant smell from the greasy diner food but faintly he can detect some floral, citrusy thing underneath. Perfume, he thinks or maybe your shampoo. He wants to smell it uninhibited, fresh out of the shower and laid on a bed for him.

Upon arriving at your parents house, you flee with only a short goodbye. A barely there whisper. Not even a thank you, which Billy thinks is fucking rude. And you run into your parents house, closing the door without a look over your shoulder.

It fills Billy with anger, a familiar feeling. The emotion he’s always been quick to. Times like this he really misses his Camaro. Could put his boot to the pedal and zip off, leaving the anger with the burnouts in the pavement. But the Camaro is long gone and he’s driving a fucking Ford Capri and it not kept well. Rusted to shit and he’s had to basically rebuild the engine piece by piece since he got here. His boss is nice, helped him out a lot with stuff but Billy’s not sure how much longer he can stay here. Especially with you going and seeing him peeking into your window. But more than that, he don’t wanna leave without getting something from you.

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove x female reader #billy hargrove smut #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove x fem!reader smut

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r0seb100d · 2 days

Text

Dallas Winston x reader hiding at the abandoned church ⛪️🤍

Fem reader

Warnings: slight mention of abuse.

When Ponyboy and Johnny carefully nudged the creaky, splintered door of the abandoned church on Jay Mountain, where Dally had instructed them to hide, the last thing either of them could have expected to find was a delicate, feminine body, huddled like a small bunny on one of the pews.

Her lightly curled raven tresses had tumbled past her creamy right shoulder, which poked out from the farm sack she had wrapped around herself, desperately seeking warmth.

The boys' eyes widened as they both took a step back in shock.

"Is she dead?"

Pony asked as both boys backed away in uncertainty. Pony accidentally bashed into the wall, causing a loud thud to echo through the church's almost empty halls. Johnny's head snapped towards his, narrowing his eyes slightly, but soon both of their gazes were averted back to the girl, who was now shifting in her place, clearly waking up.

As she sat up slowly and let out a quiet yawn, the sack had slid off her shoulders, revealing the silky, white lace-trimmed dress she had on, slightly stained with mud and dust. Upon noticing the boys, she scrambled off the bench in haste, panic clearly written upon her flushed face.

"I'm sorry, l'lI be goin', just please leave me alone."

Johnny swiftly interrupted her.

"I-It's okay; we ain't going to hurt ya. I'm Johnny, Johnny Cade and this is Ponyboy Curtis."

Johnny figured there was no danger in telling her their names; there was no way anyone here would have heard of the news yet, especially not alone in this church.

She stopped in her tracks and stared intensely at them both, digging the heels of her mary janes into the blanket of dust and rubble.

Realising that they really weren't going to cause her any harm, she let out a gentle smile framed by the dimples in her cheeks.

Both boys smiled back at her, and the three of them stood somewhat uncomfortably in the decaying church, unsure of what to do next.

"What are you doin' here if you don't mind me asking?" Pony asked, chewing on his bottom lip.

The girl stood still for a few seconds, almost as if she were unsure of what to say, then cleared her throat.

"Um, well, I'm actually hiding. Or just looking for a place to sleep really. It's a long story. Oh, and my name is y/n" She peered down at her shoes.

Johnny smiled warmly at her.

"S'okay y/n. We sort of are too; it's also a long story.

"Well, I suppose we've got hours to kill if you guys are stayin' here."

The boys filled her in on all the chaos that had ensued in the past 24 hours, and though her sweet face twisted into concern for them, she was also slightly grateful that she had found some company that also had some troubles. It made her feel less alone, and maybe, maybe they could even become friends.

♱ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .

As the evening chill settled in, y/n rubbed her arms in an attempt to warm herself up, feeling the strawberry skin beneath her fingers. Pony noticed her slight shiver and, deciding to be gentlemanly, pulled off Dallas' brown leather jacket from around his waist and held it out to her.

"Here. You must be pretty cold in just that dress."

"Oh, thank you."

She was touched by the kind act and quickly took shelter in the comfort of the jacket that smelt faintly of tobacco and cologne.

"S'alright, it belongs to a friend of mine; he gave it to me right before we ran away. His name is Dallas; he kinda scares me a little, but he's a cool guy really. Tough too. You should meet him."

She smiled meekly at him and nodded.

"Yeah maybe. Then I can thank him for this."

She let out a slight laugh, fiddling with the worn ends of the sleeves that her arms drowned in.

"So what led you here?" Johnny enquired.

That was a good question. The events that had led here were more than ugly, but if Johnny and Pony could trust her and share what happened to them, she could trust them too. A shaky breath rattled from her chest, and her eyes glazed over slightly.

"My father, he's- he's, um, a pretty shitty person, and he only got worse after my mom died two years ago, beating me around and all that. And about 3 days ago, he just lost it."

Her voice trembled, and she fixated her eyes on the broken window, the jagged glass a painful reminder.

"He threatened to kill me; he had me in one hand and a shard of glass in the other. I escaped obviously, but I had no where to go, and god I'm just so screwed up."

By now, her voice and completely broken and hot tears were streaming down her face. She struggled to swallow the sobs that wracked through her body, and Johnny gently reached for her shoulder.

"It's okay now. We're safe here. Dal said so. And if it makes ya feel any better, my parents are pretty shitty too, and Pony lost his last year; you're not screwed up, just unfortunate. Dally should be up here soon, and if you'd like, I'm sure he'd know what to do."

"Thanks." She sniffled "I'm really lucky it was you guys who came in here and not some psycho. Guess I'm not too unfortunate."

Y/n leaned in and hugged them both, feeling a little bit safer with her newfound friends.

The three of them soon dozed off, all exhausted.

♱ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .

When Dallas carefully nudged the creaky, splintered door of the abandoned church on Jay Mountain, where he had instructed Pony and Johnny to hide, the last thing he could have expected to find was the both of his friends laying next to a delicate, feminine body, huddled like a small bunny on one of the pews.

"What the-" He muttered quietly to himself before silently treading over to the trio, wanting to get a closer look while being wary not to wake them up. Where on earth had she come from? Who was she? Why was she here?

Glancing down at her sleeping face, Dallas could have sworn that his heart stopped. She was beautiful, angelic even. With her dark hair and pale skin with a twinge of pink on her cheeks, he couldn't help but stare. He then noticed that she was wrapped up in his jacket, and god did the sight do something to him.

Shaking those thoughts away, Dallas gently smacked the boys on their heads to wake them up.

"Man, you know, I must've really underestimated you guys. You've been here for what? Around 24 hours, and you've already managed to pick yourselves up a broad. Maybe runnin' away was all you needed." He teased with a wide grin plastered on his face. Better to focus on teasing them, or else his mind would surely stray to the third figure on the bench.

"Oh, shut it Dal. She's hidin' here too; we found her here when we first arrived. Her old man is a real asshole, threatened to kill her and everything. We figured you'd know what to do." Johnny rambled, looking to Pony for assurance.

"You guys have got to be shittin' me." Dallas took a deep puff from his cigarette, his brows tightly knit together. Though the thought of her being hurt that way made his stomach twist in a way he didn't want to admit, Dallas wasn't sure if he was willing to help a total stranger.

But god, just one glance back at her peaceful sleeping face already had him whipped. He was just a man after all, and she was a pretty girl.

With the boys deep in discussion, they hadn't noticed that she was now wide awake looking at them. She had realised that there was another guy with them. Another guy who was much taller, older, and rougher looking. He was gorgeous, and she felt nervous just sitting there in an old, soiled dress. When he turned to face her, both of their eyes widened and their hearts raced.

"Hi." The word sounded so silly, spilling out from her mouth. Why was she so nervous? She had only just met him.

"Hey doll." He had a faint New York accent with a husky voice, and the nickname made her head spin.

"Are you Dallas?"

"Yeah, Dallas, Dallas Winston, but call me Dally; Dallas reminds me of what the fuzz calls me."

"Nice to meet you, Dally; I'm y/n. Oh, and thanks for the jacket; Pony lent it to me." She shrugged it off and went to hand it to him, but he waved his ring-clad hand at her.

"Nah, keep it. It looks better on you." Her cheeks flushed at his comment, and he couldn't help but find her flustered state cute.

"So I heard you need a place to stay." He took another drag of his cigarette.

"Yeah, something like that."

Sure, she was shy normally and had never been anything close to a social butterfly, but a two-minute interaction with Dallas had made her feel dizzy.

"I got a place you can stay; nothin fancy, but it's a place."

"I'd appreciate anything; thanks, Dally." His stomach twisted when she said his name.

♱ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .

After hugging Johnny and Ponyboy goodbye and wishing them good luck, she followed Dallas out to a cherry-red T-bird parked outside of the church.

"Belongs to a friend of mine." Dallas told her and opened the passenger door to let her in.

“It’s nice.” He hummed in agreement.

The car was soon making its way back to Tulsa, and Dallas would be lying if he said he wasn’t being unusually careful with his driving, mindful of the girl in the passenger seat, not wanting to startle her.

God only knows why he was acting this way—so strangely soft and careful around someone he had just met—it felt so painfully unfamiliar yet natural all at once. It scared him.

She was absentmindedly tapping her fingers on the window sill, matching the tempo of the rock songs that played on the radio, her bare legs tucked underneath her on the leather seats.

What Dallas didn’t know, however, is that she was thinking of him too. Thinking of the way his hands gripped the steering wheel with recklessness yet also calculated precision. The way his hair was blowing with the wind that snuck through the crack of the open window, only a few strands framing his face, which had a gold hue to it from the early morning sun. He was rough. He had sharp edges, and it was obvious he had seen things that most could only dream of ever seeing, but in this moment, in the crimson car, he looked nothing short of angelic.

Wherever he ended up taking her, she hoped to see him again, talk to him, get to know him with all his roughness, and for him to know her with all her gentleness and cruel past. For them to know each other.

♱ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .

౨ৎ 1.8k words. Might do a part 2! ౨ৎ

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witchofsparkles · 1 day

Text

Simon was having a fairly quiet evening. In a bar like theirs, it was mostly empty anyways. The place was hidden at the end of a dark alley, making it hard for people to find and the ones who found it would turn around and leave because of its place. Who would open a bar there? Probably people who are not up to no good.

And like that, in time, the place became somewhere really shady. They offered them a silent environment and a promise to be not listened and watched. For that, Price put Simon as the bartender. He wasn’t a talker and would wear a black balaclava all the time. The business people wouldn’t know him if they saw him outside and Simon didn’t care what the hell was going on between them. He eavesdropped once passing by a table and heard a rugged man asking for a hitman to hire.

Simon left the table almost running.

Price, the owner of the bar, Simon the Ghost and Gaz the upright man were all friends from military. They served together and they got expelled together when the big brother heard that they went against the orders trying to rescue a bunch of kids from the warzone. To Simon, it was an honor of badge, but military saw it as a dirt under their shoes and kicked them out. The whole thing was infuriating but they were also happy to be out. Simon got his share of horror for a life time.

Simon raised his head when he heard the door opening. It was only 8 pm and he knew they weren’t expecting anybody. No hitman bargain, to his knowledge. And the bar was completely empty other than himself. Then he saw the man coming in.

He was looking no more than a college student, really. He wasn't young, no. But there was an air of carelessness on him. His hair was wet from the rain, which Simon only noticed now, and he used to have a mohawk. Before it got glued into his head because of the wetness. Then he noticed the sea blue eyes looking around like he’s searching for something. Simon stared at them an ungodly amount of time and averted his gaze before the man could realize. Simon’s eyes moved down to his face, stubble around his cheeks and a pair of purple lips -which probably because of the freezing cold. Then he, with sort of amazement, saw that the man was give or take a head shorter than him but broader. In what universe? Simon thought cheekily.

“Hey, mate. Have something to warm me up a bit?” Simon narrowed his eyes with suspicion. He had a Scottish accent under that soothing voice. He didn’t answer. The man was in a bar, he should know that he could order every kind of warmer there.

Instead he just walked up to the counter while leaving wet footprints and scattering water droplets around. Simon felt his eyebrow twitching, he was the one who going to clean these.

“Not much of a talker, are ye? Well, it’s pishin it doon out ‘ere and I’m freezing. Scotch?” Simon hoped he didn’t show it on his face but the only bit he got from this man’s talking was his order. He turned to fill the glass and heard the man talking again.

“I mean it’s raining hard. I could see the gears turning through your eyes. Well, that’s about the only thing I can see. Is wearing a mask come with the bartender job or did I walk into a robbery?”

Simon rolled his eyes while his back was still turned to the man. He served the drink and turned to leave but the man stopped him again. “How much?”

Simon pointed to the board. The man clicked his tongue. “Even the money doesn’t get you talk. Are you mute? Am I being inconsiderate and rude?”

Simon thought about playing mute. He wasn’t planning on talking to customers soon. But he shook his head to indicate that he could talk but he chose not to. Not to him, anyways. And that found its way to the man too. He downed the Scotch and put the money under the glass. There was a crooked smile on his face. “Well, till the next rain then.”

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bunnist4rz · 2 days

Text

Hi guys :33 I've been slowly getting back into mha lately which in turn is reviving my deadly crush on Bakugo 😞😞😞😞😞 (I'm so sane about him I swear) I hope u guys like it :33

TW/CW : none,, bakugo x m!reader,, fluff with a tiny bit of angst if u squint

"Hey, you okay?" Midoriya's voice pierced through the quiet study hall, his eyes darting towards you, who sat with your head in your hands.

"Yeah, just... a lot on my mind," you replied, your voice muffled by your palms.

Mina leaned over from the adjacent desk, her curiosity piqued. "What's up? Did you and Bakugo have another explosive argument?" she teased, a knowing smile playing on her lips.

Your cheeks reddened as you sat up abruptly, knocking over a pencil that rolled away. "N-no! Nothing like that!" You scooped it up, trying to ignore the smirks forming around you. It was no secret that you and Bakugo Katsuki had a complicated relationship. You were like oil and water, but somehow, you two had found a way to blend

"Well, you're not fooling anyone," Mina whispered, leaning in closer. "Your bond is so thick, it's practically a plot device."

Your heart skipped a beat, your eyes darting to the side where Bakugo sat, seemingly engrossed in his own studies. But he could feel the heat of your gaze, a silent challenge that made his pulse race. He swallowed hard, trying to keep his cool. How did Mina know?

The whispers grew louder as the rest of class 1-A turned their attention towards them. The atmosphere was a mix of curiosity and amusement. Denki leaned over his desk, grinning. "Is there something going on between you two that we should know about?"

Bakugo's head snapped up, his fiery gaze locked on the reader. "What the hell are you talking about, Pikachu?" he barked, his voice echoing through the room.

Mina giggled, unfazed by the outburst. "Oh, come on, you guys. It's so obvious." She pointed a finger at the reader, then at Bakugo. "You two have been acting like a couple of lovebirds for weeks now."

The class erupted into laughter and cheers, and you felt your face turn a shade darker. You glanced at Bakugo, expecting to see anger, but instead, you found the blond's expression unreadable.

Bakugo stood up, his chair scraping against the floor. "Shut up, all of you!" he roared, slamming his fists on the desk. The noise reverberated through the room, silencing everyone. "We're just... training partners. That's all!"

The class exchanged glances, some smiling, some nodding in understanding. You on the other hand felt a mix of relief and disappointment. You knew that Bakugo wasn't ready to admit their feelings in front of everyone, but you had hoped...

"Oh, really?" Mina's eyes sparkled mischievously. "Then how do you explain the way you two are always together, finishing each other's sentences, and... oh, I don't know, the little heart-shaped explosions you leave behind?"

The room burst into laughter again, and this time, even Bakugo couldn't help but crack a smile. You felt a warmth spread through your chest, despite the embarrassment. If their classmates knew, it couldn't be that bad, right? Maybe this was the start of something new.

"Alright, alright," he sighed, deciding to play along. "I guess we do have a pretty explosive... friendship."

The word 'friendship' hung in the air, and for a moment, it felt like a challenge. Bakugo's eyes narrowed slightly, but then he smirked, a hint of amusement playing in his fiery gaze. "Yeah, something like that."

Mina leaned back in her chair, a knowing look in her eye. "Well, whether you admit it or not, you two are pretty cute together." She winked at you before turning back to her textbook.

As the chuckles died down, the rest of the class returned to their work, the occasional snicker or whisper breaking the silence. You couldn't help but feel a little thrill at the thought that everyone knew. Or at least, suspected. It was strange, but also oddly comforting.

The rest of the study session was filled with sly glances and smirks from his classmates, but you found that you didn't mind. In fact, you felt a strange sense of euphoria, a feeling you hadn't experienced in a long time.

When the bell finally rang, signaling the end of the day, you gathered your things and walked out of the classroom, feeling lighter than you had in weeks. As you exited the building, the cool evening air hit you, and you couldn't help but look around for Bakugo.

There he was, standing under the streetlight, his back turned to the school. He was punching the air, practicing his quirk. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for what was to come.

"Hey, Bakugo, " you called out, you voice steady.

Bakugo spun around, his eyes narrowing. "What do you want?" he snarled.

You took a step closer, your heart pounding in his chest. "I just... I wanted to say thanks. For earlier. For not... I don't know, for not making it a big deal."

Bakugo's expression softened, if only slightly. "Don't thank me," he grunted. "It's not like it's true."

Your hope grew. "But if it was, would it be so bad?"

The blond looked at him for a long moment, his fists clenching and unclenching. "What are you saying?"

You took a deep breath, your heart racing. "I'm saying... I think I might be in love with you."

The words hung in the air, heavy and potent. The world seemed to pause, waiting for Bakugo's reaction. And then, with a snort, the tension broke.

"Haha, what a joke," Bakugo said, turning away. "Get over it."

You felt like you've been punched in the gut, but he forced a laugh. "Yeah, of course. Just a joke."

But as you watched Bakugo stride away, you couldn't help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, the blond was hiding his own feelings behind that fiery bravado. And if so, how long until they could both face the truth?

The next few days passed in a blur of schoolwork and training. The class remained supportive, their teasing never crossing the line into cruelty. You tried to focus on your studies, but your thoughts kept drifting back to that moment in the study hall. Had Mina been right? Was your bond something more than friendship?

One afternoon, as you were packing up to leave, your hand brushed against something warm and rough. You looked down to find Bakugo's hand resting on the same stack of books. The electricity that zapped between both of you was undeniable, sending a jolt up your arm that made your heart race.

"W-what are you doing?" You stuttered, pulling your hand away.

Bakugo scowled, his cheeks faintly red. "Just... get out of here," he grumbled.

You didn't need to be told twice. You grabbed your bag and darted out of the classroom, your heart pounding in your chest. The hallway was deserted, the last of the students already dispersed to their after-school activities. You didn't know where you was going, only that you had to get follow him.

"Why'd you say that?" he demanded, his voice low and intense.

You swallowed hard. "S-say what?"

"That you... that you might be in love with me."

The air was thick with tension, and for a moment, you couldn't breathe. "Because it's true," you murmured.

Bakugo took a step closer, his eyes searching the reader's face. "Don't play games with me," he growled.

You met his gaze, your voice firm. "I'm not playing. I just wanted you to know."

For a moment, y'all stood there, the space between you two charged with unspoken emotions. And then, without warning, Bakugo closed the gap, his hand cupping your cheek, and his lips crashed into your own.

The kiss was explosive, full of the passion and fire that had always characterized their relationship. Your eyes widened in shock before closing, your arms wrapping around Bakugo's waist, pulling him closer. You could feel the blond's heart racing in time with your own, the heat of your body seeping through yall uniforms.

When you finally pulled apart, you both were breathless, your eyes locked. The hallway spun around you, the only sound your ragged breathing.

"Does this... mean..." You started, your voice barely a whisper.

Bakugo cut him off with a sharp nod. "It means you're mine," he said, his voice gruff. "And I'm not sharing."

You felt your heart soar, your cheeks flushing with a newfound warmth. You leaned in again, eager to deepen the kiss, but Bakugo stepped back, his expression unreadable.

"But we're keeping this between us," he warned. "I'm not ready for the whole school to know."

You nodded, your heart racing with excitement. "Okay, Kacchan," you said, your voice shaky. "Our secret."

Bakugo's eyes searched yours, looking for any sign of doubt. Finding none, he gave a curt nod. "Fine," he said, turning on his heel. "Let's go home."

As you walked through the empty halls, you couldn't help but feel that something had shifted between them The whispers and teasing had brought them closer than ever before, and you couldn't wait to see where this newfound understanding would lead.

#mha #my hero academia #bnha #bnha bakugo katsuki #mha bakugo katsuki #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo mha #bakugo x male reader #x male reader #x male y/n #x reader

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kiwiikato · 3 days

Note

hi. this is my first time requesting anything but i have a request to make. it's an idea i thought about while trying to sleep. is it ok of you can do Ken Sato x Singer! Reader? if you don't want to that's okay.

masterlist

this sounds like a wonderful idea! i would love to write this for you! :3 i hope you’re okay with the storyline! i’m not the very best at writing stories without long descriptions 0-0

propmt: mina sets up kenji with an interview. on the way there, he instead ends up running into up-and-coming new singer y/n.

kenji fumbled with the zipper of his jacket, the pulse of his heart increasing as he ran around his home. he had just got back home from a mission, having to deal with another hectic kaiju that destroyed the city, and with the even more bothersome KDF.

upon getting home, mina had informed him of a interview she had accepted on the behalf of gaining more publicity on kenji’s rise as a more cooperative member of the giants baseball team.

“fuck mina, how many minutes till the interview starts?” kenji basically barked out, grabbing his keys off the side table, along with his phone and motorcycle helmet. “you have about 15 minutes to get there, along with another 20 minutes on preparing yourself for the interview itself.” the robotic orb responded, hovering near the slightly tanned skin asian.

his hand raked along his hair, pushing any fly away strands back into place. “good, i should have a couple of minutes to spare then.” he said throwing on his helmet, all while making his way to his front door.

“mina, tell my dad to take care of emi, please. he should get here in a couple minutes. unlock the door for him when he arrives.” kenji says, giving mina a quick wave as he ran to his motorcycle.

he inserted his keys into the cars ignition, quickly turning the keys, making his bike roar slightly. his hands gripped the handles of his bike securely, with his foot landing in the gas pedal. it wasn’t long till he found himself driving, the cool air of the night hitting his body.

he couldn’t help but sigh from the freshness of the air, feeling a bit more relaxed about the interview. his bike drove through the city, the colorful lights of purple and blue flashing his helmets visor.

it wasn’t long till he found himself in front of the building where the interview would take place. kenji took his helmet off, fixing his hair quickly as he chain locked his motorcycle in place. he sped walked past the doors, pushing them open as his ears were filled with the sounds of people talking and rushing around.

he ran past the receptionist, too tired to deal with check ins. it’s fine it didn’t matter, they knew to expect him anyways. he’s finger pressed at the button of the elevator, his foot impatiently tapping as he waiting for the iron doors to slide open.

a ding sounded out as he quickly got on, not bothering to check if anyone was coming as his finger hastily pressed the ‘closes doors’ button. he sighed in relief seeing the doors slowly waiting, looking at his watch to see he had only about 25 minutes to prep and settle down.

his eyes flickered up at the doors in shock when a hand stuck itself into the elevator doors. the unknown had pried the doors open slightly till them automatically open. kenji couldn’t help his jaw being open from the shock of someone shoving their hand in right before it closed, almost risking an injury.

the person walked in, smacking their hands together to rid of any dust and gunk they might have picked up. you looked up, raising an eyebrow at his face. “you might want to keep that mouth shut pretty boy, a mosquito might fly in.” you say snickering slightly.

kenji closed his mouth, readjusting his posture to look a bit more carefree and relaxed. “yeah, i know that.” he remarked, kind of confused at the interaction at hand.

“did you really? it doesn’t look like you knew that sato.” you say moving to click the button for the floor you were going to, but he stood near it. you cleared your throat waiting for him to move out of the way, but he just stood there.

“you need to learn how to get out of the way.” you say as you lean over him, your body close to his, almost touching, as you tap the button to the sixth floor. “seventh floor, huh?” you ask him, seeing the lit up button as you pull away from his space.

he could help but to smell the scent of your cologne/perfume as he nodded. “yeah, seventh floor. i got an interview i have to be at in a bit.” he says, looking down at his watch to keep track of the time.

“oh really? i do too.” kenji raised his eyebrows in curiosity. he had yet to have heard of you, so his brain rummaged around for what you could be getting interviewed for.

giving up, he just decided to ask. “what are you getting interviewed for?” you turned to him, smiling at his question. “up and coming singer. the media is interested in my ‘sudden’ rise to fame, so i was offered an opportunity to be interviewed, as well as a short performance there as well.” you say, your eyes drifting up to see you were almost close to the sixth floor.

kenji wouldn’t deny his interest. it wasn’t a lie to he enjoyed music. he played it throughout his house every chance he could get. “how long have you been playing for then?”

it made you ecstatic to be asked about the journey to your current present. “i’ve been performing for a couple years now, started off by doing small gigs at a club around the corner from here and uploading videos, honestly just testing my luck.” you say fixing your shirt as you see the sixth floor coming up.

“well, isn’t that something. it’s a good thing you’re here now, practicing really does benefit people.” he said smiling. he was strange, but a good strange. the famous baseball player was undeniably attractive. you were sure you would’ve blushed if it wasn’t for your blood already pumping from stage freight.

“yeah it is. it’s good to be here, makes it fun to meet new people, just like right now actually.” you say as the elevator makes a ding sound. “well, this is my stop. i should get going. good luck on your interview!” you say smiling as you step out.

kenji watches you from inside the elevator as the doors begin to close. you wave at him smiling, to which he smiles back a bit. right as the doors are about to shut, he watches as you wink, your hand making a ‘call me’ motion as the doors close.

kenji can’t help but blush at your sudden confidence. he would have called you, but he didn’t even get your name, nor your number. he had gotten no information about you at all. he can’t help but chuckle at your attempt, finding it cute.

he watches as the elevator is almost to the seventh floor. he fixes his hair once again from nerves, walking out as the doors open. he confidently struts to the dressing room, having a couple minutes to spare. his hands find their way to his jacket pocket. his fingers hit something in them, it couldn’t have been his keys or his phone, it was too small and thin.

he raises an eyebrow as he pulls out a small card. he looks down, reading the information on it. he couldn’t help but to slightly blush as he read the writing on it.

“call me cutie - (xxx) xxx-xxxx y/n ♡”

he chuckled, smiling softly as he placed in back in his pocket. he opened the doors to his dressing room, taking a seat. a smile gracing his lips as he realized you had snuck the card in his pocket when you had leaned over him to press the button for the sixth floor.

he is definitely going to send you a text when he gets home.

#ken sato #ken sato x reader #kenji sato #ultraman #ultraman rising #kenji sato x reader

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chewbokachoi · 2 days

Note

"You said you liked it so I brought it for you." bireenaaaaaa

Eyy looked who finally got to it--sorry for the delay! Ended up a lil longer than anticipated but I had fun regardless :D

Bi-Han felt out of his element.

He was standing, watching just out of sight, not sure if he should make himself known or just continue to observe. Most of him, the sensible part of him (or what remained of it) said he was being obtuse and a creep. But a small part of him, a small voice he ignored for years and thought left for dead, chimed in. What if she hates it? It whispered.

To let insecurity rule him after clawing his way back to life. Bi-Han shoved the voice back once more and slipped out of his hiding place. He snatched up the gift and decided to find Sareena rather than wait in the shadows, or worse, leave it unguarded.

He slipped the parcel into a satchel he had taken to wearing. The idea of being seen carrying around something so carefully wrapped yet so clumsy and unrefined would have been one too many humiliations to deal with.

Watching Tomas wrap all of the gifts he had prepared for everyone had only done so much to help Bi-Han. He wasn't sure if Tomas appreciated the audience, or who the audience was, but he didn't say anything at least. It was a mix of comfort and further frustration for Bi-Han. While it was good Tomas didn't shun him, Bi-Han resented himself for not knowing how much Tomas truly tolerated him.

Of course it made sense somebody like Bi-Han didn't have as much skill as Tomas at gift wrapping; Tomas who had the time to pursue such a frivolous hobby. But it still gnawed at his pride that he couldn't make something for Sareena half as good. And to even consider asking Tomas to help wrap it for him? Absolutely not.

Bi-Han hoped Sareena would at least appreciate the colors. She always wore black and red. Finding red ribbons was easy enough–black wrapping paper, he found, was harder despite how popular goth fashion and other grim aesthetics had become. Of course part of him was eager to point out it was probably only difficult because he didn't dare ask anyone for help. And then the more delicate part of the gift…Bi-Han found his face warming at the thought of it. It was stupid. He could just leave it in his bag.

To his relief, Bi-Han found Sareena by herself. She was in Liu Kang's library and she had found a rather large, old book. Bi-Han wanted to know what it was, and he wanted to see if he could find out without having to ask. But the closer he got, he saw it wasn't in any language he knew. How much time had he lost out on? Clearly enough for her to have comfortably learned another language.

Despite how quiet Bi-Han was, she knew he was there. Covering his scent on a whim wasn't something he had figured out how to do. Still, he walked close enough to be polite but keep a respectful distance and waited for her to turn around.

Sareena set the book down and turned to face Bi-Han, her expression neutral despite her demonic features. They always made her look vaguely upset or annoyed. In a better mood, Bi-Han could see himself tolerating comments saying that he could relate. But when that mood would finally arrive, he couldn't say. So, instead, he kept his own neutral expression, waiting on Sareena to decide if she had the patience for him or not.

"You're done with training early," she said.

Bi-Han gave a small shrug. "I woke up earlier," he said. He had woken up early so he could get his training in and have time to wrap the gift and present it to her on time.

She tilted her head to the side and narrowed her eyes, the action always somehow ensnaring Bi-Han to her. "I thought you preferred reading one book at a time," she continued, uninterested in Bi-Han's reason for being done with training earlier than she expected. "And the book I last saw you with from here was sizable."

"You are correct," he said, not knowing what else to say. She was still paying attention to him and the thought alone made him want to disappear. He could still make an escape, but he'd have to at least give her her gift. Perhaps while she was distracted by unwrapping it–there was no way it would open neatly–he could disappear. "I came to find you," he said, reaching into the satchel.

Her irises widened like a curious cat's.

Bi-Han pulled out the first gift, his fingers brushing against the second half. For a second, he thought he broke it. But to his relief, it was fine. He pulled out the parcel and handed it to Sareena, barely able to keep his gaze on her.

"Who's this from? Did somebody ask you to deliver this to me?" Sareena asked, pausing her reach.

Bi-Han felt his face flush. "No," he said. And that was all he could manage.

Sareena's surprise gave way to realization. "Oh." She looked back down at the parcel and picked it up, her movements sharp and angular–more demonic than human. She back down on the stone bench, suddenly entranced by the little parcel. "Did you wrap this?" She asked, tugging at the ribbon, a hint of amusement in her voice.

"I may have," Bi-Han muttered, trying to keep his focus on how her hands moved, peeling at the tape and paper. But instead he was watching her face, seeing how happy and curious she was. It occurred to him that the odds of getting a gift from the Netherrealm were low, and they'd be tools more than anything–especially for a demon of her rank.

She pulled back the paper to reveal the gift: a metal, crocodile incense holder. Its mouth was open, meant for the stick to be inserted into the mouth.

Bi-Han reached into the satchel before she could say anything and pulled out the incense packet. It was wrapped in blue paper with silver wrapping. He had noticed her preference for sour things, and so he hoped she would appreciate the variety of citrus incense sticks he had found. To his relief–and a boost to his pride–Bi-Han could see Sareena could smell what it was through the wrapping.

"Bi-Han," Sareena said, accepting it with her free hand. "Thank you." She looked up. "But…" she trailed off, not wanting to be rude.

Bi-Han couldn't find it in him to see the question as rude. Maybe a small part of it was because she was still a demon and her ways weren't ever going to fully align with the human world. But Bi-Han knew he couldn't judge anyone for any apprehension or hesitation around him. So, he gave her another shrug. "I heard you saying to Ashrah how much you liked it," he nodded to the holder. "So I bought it for you."

Sareena blinked, processing what he had said. Then she smiled. She carefully placed the still unopened bundle of incense sticks in the hand with the burner. Then she picked up the book. "Would you like to join me for some reading?" Sareena asked, moving to make space for Bi-Han.

His eyebrows rose in surprise. Then he looked around, quickly looking for any book to avoid making it awkward. As he walked over to a shelf full of Chinese books and tales, he could hear Sareena unwrapping the other gift. When he returned to the bench, he saw her inserting a stick into the holder. Then she lit it with a light tap of her finger. She turned around and looked up at Bi-Han, the smile still on her face.

He sat down near her, but not next to her.

Sareena crossed her legs, her knee brushing his thigh.

Bi-Han remained where he was–Sareena had done that on purpose, but he couldn't deny he liked the casualness of her proximity to him. The smell of citrus mixing with the enchanted torches that lit the library was providing an odd and unexpected comfort. Bi-Han felt his shoulders relax and found himself hoping this was something he could enjoy again.

#mk1 2023 #bi-han #sareena #bireena #honestly it took me a while to figure out something to give her that wouldn't feel cliche ahaha #thank you for the ask and your patience!!!!

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