#but in the far off chance all the pain of being treated as a weapon and experimented on and and and decides to appear
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♱ Knight!Simon Riley x Princess!Reader (part 2) ♱ part 1 | part 2 | part 3
a/n: I'm so, so happy you guys liked part one! I tried my best to do it justice! Thank you all for the kind messages :) Also, should I do knight Jason Todd?? or, or knight John Price? I feel like I should mention I have not played modern warfare in sooo long, like since my ps3 broke (two-ish years ago!!). Ugh I'm so in love with knight Simon Riley!!
contents: a ton of fluff, lil bit of angst (I refuse to make my characters suffer too much, they deserve the world!!), allusion to sex but nothing specific or graphic.

For a couple months your illicit affairs with Simon became more frequent, your love for each other already confessed, feelings running wild like horses.
You'd gotten used to his touch, his fingertips on your cheeks, arms, thighs; his calloused hands so gentle with your soft skin, his touch almost reverent. His lips kissing every freckle and mark on your skin, slowly, as if to memorize them.
♱ Knight!Simon Riley whose heart broke the moment you broke the news to him: you'd been engaged to a prince from a foreign land, he'd come to the castle soon, live with you before the wedding eventually happened. You stood in the yard, under the weeping willow, in your place, when you told him. His mask was off, guard down, rough hands under the fabric of your dress. Your eyebrows knit with worry, tears brimming your eyes as you spoke.
You told him how you loved him and no other, his jaw tight, gaze cold with jealousy, envy of the lucky prince who would not know how to treat you right.
"I promise, Si. I'd marry you in a heartbeat, you know that!" You sobbed into his shirt, tears staining the fabric.
"I know, sweetheart, but we can't." You could hear the pain in his voice.
It had taken him so long to feel such a connection with anyone, and now that he'd found the one he couldn't keep her.
Your daily rendezvous became far more passionate and longer, you'd miss dinner, tell your mother Ghost took you riding— not entirely a lie— that was why your hair was tousled, skirt and tights askew and cheeks flushed red. Your mother just smiled and waved you away, clueless and careless.
You were aware that living in a castle, being next in line to rule, not having to lift a finger ever sounded like a good thing, but God, how you loathed the court. You'd confided in Simon once, told him that you felt out of place, like the black sheep. That you'd love to have an actual family, one that eats meals together, with people that talk to each other, love each other. He dreamt of providing that for you.
The harshness of your situation weighed heavy on Simon's shoulders, you could see it in the way his eyes barely held your gaze anymore, moving to look at the trees, a painting on a wall, the ground. You could feel it in the way he touched you, like he knew he had to let you go, but couldn't: his fingers holding onto your flesh roughly.
♱ Knight!Simon Riley who was surprised (pleasantly so) when a couple weeks later you told him you'd run away with him.
"I've got it all planned out, horses food, an alibi...I swear, we can do it. We have to, before the prince gets here and I get no chance to."
"Honey—" he breathed.
"I mean it, I told the stable boy and a couple of the guards. I had to bribe them, something about sworn loyalty for my father— anyway, we can leave tonight, it's all ready."
Simon would walk through fire just to see your eyes again, he'd jump off a cliff if it meant he'd see you smile; so that night he meets you by the stables, a cloth bag with some of his belongings in it—clothes, weapons, a wad of cash— slung over his shoulder.
You stand by your horse, your dress tied up above your knees for easy mobility, hair down. There's a fire in your eyes he doesn't think he's ever seen before, and it makes the blood in his body rush south, heat pool in his stomach. Your own bag is slung over your shoulder, your foot taps against the floor with urgency.
"Ready?" You mutter, keeping your volume low.
He walked over to you, nodded curtly before he wrapped his arms around you.
"If we do this, there's no turning back." You warned him.
"I've got nothing here, no family, no past. You should be the one thinking about what they're loosing, my love."
"I can't do that. We have to go."
♱ Knight!Simon Riley who feels a sense of pride at how much you trust him, at how you left it all behind— the crown, the court, the comfort, your family, although you'd said time and time again you'd leave them if you could.
♱ Knight!Simon Riley who gets you to a cabin in the woods that belonged to a friend of his, a lumberjack, who no longer used it. He laid you down on the bed, pushed the covers over your body and kissed your forehead before he unpacked your bags and lit a fire on the fireplace. Once he saw fit, he laid down beside you, his arms around your body, his lips pressed to your skin.
He knew the worries would come in the morning, the fear of getting caught, the shame, the tears; and then the relief, that of finally being able to be together and love loudly.
────୨ৎ────
@foxintheferns this is for u my dear!!! and for the anons that asked me to please write a part two lol
Requests are open!!
#cod ghost#ghost cod#cod x reader#call of duty modern warfare#cod mw2#simon ghost riley#simon riley cod#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#simon ghost x reader#modern warfare#cod#knight!ghost#knight!au#knight!simon riley#ghost simon riley#simon riley x female reader#simon riley imagine#simon riley x f!reader#princess!reader#simon riley#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost x you#simon ghost fluff#simon riley fluff#ghost call of duty#ghost x reader#ghost x you#call of duty#call of duty x reader
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The Silence Of The Mole
Part 2
Summary: The past has a way of catching up, no matter how far you run. Years after leaving the 141 behind, you’ve built a new life one filled with purpose, loyalty, and something close to peace. But when fate forces your paths to cross again, old wounds are ripped open, and buried emotions resurface. Some things were never meant to be forgiven.
The moment you handed Price your transfer papers, you felt something inside you shatter.
You had spent years with the 141, built something you thought was unbreakable, but after everything after the interrogations, the bruises, the betrayal you couldn’t stay. Even if Soap and Gaz had started to mend the wounds they helped create, it wasn’t enough. Not when every time you saw Ghost or Price, all you could hear was their cold accusations, feel the phantom pain of their hands gripping you too tight, their voices laced with distrust.
Price didn’t try to stop you. He read the papers, his jaw tightening, then gave a single nod. “I’ll approve it,” he said gruffly. No apology. No fight. Just acceptance, as if he had already known this was coming.
Ghost hadn’t said a word. He watched you pack your things in silence, his mask betraying nothing, but his body was tense, like he wanted to say something anything. But he didn’t. And that hurt more than anything else.
Soap had been the one to argue, to try and convince you to stay. “We can fix this,” he had pleaded. “We will fix this.”
But some things couldn’t be fixed.
So you left.
The weight of the past was always with you, even when you thought you’d left it behind.
After the betrayal of the 141, you had nowhere else to turn. Los Vaqueros offered you a chance to start anew, and though you hesitated at first, something in you clicked when you met them. They treated you like family, not a tool or a weapon.
Alejandro was the first to speak with you when you arrived. His eyes were kind, though you could sense the professionalism in his demeanor. He didn’t ask too many questions. Instead, he offered you a place on his team, and with it, a new sense of purpose.
Rodolfo was the one who welcomed you with open arms, like a sibling you never had. He taught you the intricacies of their operations and helped you adjust to their way of working. Your Spanish, though solid, became smoother under his guidance. You felt a pride in being able to converse with ease now, the words rolling off your tongue without hesitation.
In the months that followed, you found comfort in the family dynamic of Los Vaqueros. They cared for each other in a way that made you feel safe, valued. For the first time in a long while, you allowed yourself to believe that maybe, just maybe, you could be happy again.
But when the mission came when you found out you’d be working with 141 again it felt like the universe had decided to toy with you.
The first time you saw Ghost and Price again, you felt your heart stop. They were standing in the same room, their presence so heavy that it felt like the air was suffocating.
“You,” Ghost whispered, his eyes not meeting yours as though he couldn’t quite process seeing you again.
“Yeah,” you said, your voice even. “Me.”
Price was quieter than usual, his gaze flicking between you and the rest of Los Vaqueros. He nodded but said nothing, his face hardened.
“Are we working with them?” Soap asked, his voice tinged with disbelief as he glanced at you.
“Sí,” Alejandro replied. “We need all the help we can get for this mission.”
It was the first time you had heard your old team’s voices in years, and despite your resolve, your emotions churned beneath the surface. You thought you had moved on, that you had buried the past but seeing them here, now, stirred up memories you weren’t ready to face.
You barely spared them a glance as you moved to your new team’s side, but Soap’s eyes lingered on you. You could see the pain there, the regret that was still fresh in his expression. You wanted to ignore it. You wanted to walk away from the past entirely but you couldn’t.
The mission was a blur of violence and strategy. You worked seamlessly with Los Vaqueros, and the team’s camaraderie was unmatched. But every moment with the 141 was a struggle.
Soap tried his hardest to bridge the gap, even joking with you in the same way he used to, but it fell flat. The wounds ran too deep. You could feel him watching you when you weren’t looking, as though waiting for a sign that you would return to the old dynamic.
Gaz was softer in his approach, but there was still a distance, an invisible wall between you and the rest of them. You felt it every time they looked at you, as though they were unsure whether you were still the person they once knew.
But it was Ghost who caused the most turmoil.
His eyes never left you, not for a moment. Even when you were deep in the mission, you could feel the weight of his stare. It wasn’t just the old tension between you two. No, it was something else guilt, regret, fear.
One night, after the mission had wrapped for the day, he approached you.
“Do you ever think about it?” he asked, his voice low and rough, the words hanging in the air between you.
You glanced at him, your heart hammering in your chest. “What?”
“The past,” he said, his eyes flicking to the ground. “Do you ever think about what happened?”
“I think about it every day,” you said, your tone steady, but the weight of your words hung heavily between you. “But that doesn’t mean I can forget it.”
You watched him swallow, his hands clenched at his sides as if he were fighting some internal battle. “I never meant to hurt you,” he muttered, almost to himself.
You didn’t respond. Instead, you turned away and walked off, leaving him standing there, a shadow of the man you once knew.
The mission progressed, and tensions mounted. Days passed with little change. But then, during a particularly dangerous operation, everything went wrong.
Soap got separated.
You didn’t know how it happened one minute, you were all moving together, and the next, Soap was gone, lost in the chaos of the battlefield.
Rodolfo immediately took charge, his voice commanding as he directed the team to search for him. You didn’t wait for orders. You moved, your mind on nothing but Soap’s safety.
You found him a few hours later, battered and broken, his breathing shallow but steady. His eyes flickered open when he heard you approach.
“You came,” he whispered, his voice weak but relieved.
“I always will,” you replied, your hand gently touching his shoulder.
You worked quickly to patch him up, your hands steady despite the pounding in your chest. The mission had already been a nightmare, but losing Soap after everything was too much.
He winced as you worked, but he didn’t complain. “I’m sorry,” he muttered again, his eyes meeting yours with a sincerity you hadn’t seen in years. “For everything.”
You didn’t know what to say. Instead, you just nodded, wrapping the bandages tight to stop the bleeding.
Rudy stayed close by, his presence a comforting constant as you worked. He’d been by your side this whole time, a steady hand when you needed it most. He wasn’t like the 141. He didn’t judge you or question your worth. He just supported you.
“I’m glad you’re here,” you said to him quietly, your voice hoarse.
“Siempre,” he replied, his hand resting on your shoulder.
After the mission, you couldn’t shake the feeling that things had changed irreparably. Soap had apologized, but there was still a distance between you, one that couldn’t be crossed so easily. Ghost had said his piece, but his actions spoke louder than any apology.
Price? He stayed quiet, as always, but his eyes were full of things left unsaid.
But you were no longer the same person.
And neither were they.
After all that chaos you guys were supposed to meet with Graves. The mission had started well, or so you thought. You had tracked your targets to a small compound nestled deep in the mountains. Alejandro led the way, as always, with his calm and steady presence. You had become accustomed to the rhythm of the team the way everyone knew their place, the way Los Vaqueros operated like a well-oiled machine.
But then, as with most missions, things went wrong.
You had been in the middle of clearing a room when the explosion rocked the building. Dust and debris filled the air as the ground beneath your feet gave way. The next thing you knew, you were thrown to the ground, your ears ringing, your vision spinning.
By the time you regained your senses, Alejandro was gone.
The panic in Rudy’s voice was unmistakable as he called out for Alejandro, but there was no answer. The silence that followed was even worse than the explosion itself.
Then came the realization: Alejandro had been taken.
And you…
You’d been captured too.
They didn’t waste time.
You were dragged through dark, damp corridors, your hands bound tightly behind you. You had no idea where they were taking you, but you knew it wasn’t going to end well.
“You worked with them,” one of the captors hissed. “You were with 141.”
The words stung more than they should have. The weight of the accusation the way they spat it at you felt like a blow to the chest. You were no longer just a soldier. You were the traitor who had betrayed them.
They made sure to remind you of that with every strike, every torture, every demand for information.
At first, you held your tongue. You knew better than to give them anything, but the pain was unbearable. They knew what to target, what to make you remember. And every time they dug deeper, every time they tore at your flesh, your mind flashed back to the 141 back to the accusations, the interrogations, the betrayal.
They knew about your past with them. They used it against you.
It felt like days weeks even before you heard any familiar voices. You barely recognized them through the haze of blood and pain, but when Rudy’s voice broke through the darkness, you almost couldn’t believe it.
“Hold on, we’re getting you out,” he said, his voice full of concern.
The next few hours were a blur of gunfire, explosions, and chaos. Rudy’s steady hands helped free you from your restraints, but the pain was still fresh. The wounds were deep, but they didn’t matter as much as what had been taken from you.
By the time Alejandro was found, it was clear that something inside you had broken. You had always been the medic, the one who healed others but you had nothing left to give.
Back at the safe house, the mission debrief felt like a slow-motion nightmare.
You sat in the corner, barely able to look at the 141, who had just joined the operation. The tension was palpable like a wall that had been built between you and the rest of the team. You could barely meet their eyes without feeling the weight of everything that had happened.
But it wasn’t the 141 that you were most concerned about.
It was Alejandro.
He had seen the toll that the torture had taken on you, and while he didn’t say much, his eyes betrayed the concern he felt. He pulled you aside after the meeting, his gaze soft but unwavering.
“Are you alright?” he asked, though he already knew the answer.
“No,” you replied, your voice barely a whisper. “I’m not.”
Days passed, and the pain of the mission lingered in the pit of your stomach. You couldn’t shake the memories of the torture, the feel of their hands on your skin, the words they had used to break you.
You couldn’t do it anymore.
The decision came as a shock to the team.
You told Rudy you couldn’t do it anymore and talked to Alejandro, unable to find the right words to explain why you were leaving.
“I can’t keep doing this,” you said quietly. “I’m not the person I was before.”
Alejandro didn’t say anything at first. He just looked at you, his brow furrowing as if trying to understand, trying to find a way to fix this.
“I’m sorry,” you added, your voice cracking. “I know you were counting on me. But I can’t keep pretending that I’m okay. I’m not.”
Finally, he spoke, his voice heavy with regret. “You’ve done enough, hermana,” he said softly. “No one can ask you to carry this burden forever.”
It was the hardest decision you had ever made. Leaving Los Vaqueros was like tearing a part of yourself away. You had built something with them, something real. But you couldn’t stay in a world that had broken you, couldn’t continue fighting when everything inside you felt like it was already shattered.
The 141 they had taken that from you. You had been so loyal, so willing to fight for them, but now all that was left was a hollow shell.
So, you walked away.
The days following your departure were lonely. You couldn’t bring yourself to speak to anyone, not even Rudy, not even Alejandro. It felt like they had all moved on without you.
But one night, as you sat in a dimly lit bar in a quiet corner of the world, you heard a familiar voice.
“Not the kind of place I expected to find you.”
You didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. Soap’s accent was unmistakable, even in the quiet hum of the bar.
When you did look up, he was standing there, his face tense but soft with emotion. His eyes searched yours for something anything.
“I’m not here to fight,” he said quietly. “I just… I need to see you.”
You didn’t say anything. You didn’t know how to.
But in that moment, you realized that you were done with them. But you weren’t ready to forgive either.
The days following your decision to leave were filled with uncertainty, but they were also peaceful. You moved to a small town, far from the chaos of the battlefield and the haunting memories of what you had endured. It wasn’t an easy transition, but you found comfort in the little things things you had once pushed aside in the name of duty.
You took up painting, something you had always loved but never had the time to pursue. The soft brushstrokes on the canvas became your refuge, your way of expressing what words couldn’t. You would spend hours lost in color, in texture, in creating something beautiful from the turmoil that had once consumed you.
You also started gardening, planting flowers in your backyard. The smell of fresh soil and the sight of buds slowly blossoming into life brought you a sense of calm you hadn’t felt in years. It was strange to feel peace again, but it was also liberating.
At night, you would sit on your porch with a cup of tea, staring at the stars, thinking about the life you had left behind. The memories of your time with Los Vaqueros and the 141 faded slowly, like the setting sun. It was as if you were finding yourself all over again, carving out a new identity far from the battlefield.
But no matter how far you went, no matter how much you tried to forget, there was one thing you couldn’t escape your past.
Years had passed since you walked away from the life you knew, and for the most part, you had found a quiet peace. But in the back of your mind, the shadows of your past still lingered, always just beyond reach.
One evening, while you were painting on your porch, you felt a strange sense of being watched. You glanced up, your breath catching in your throat as you spotted him. Simon, standing just at the edge of the trees, his figure cloaked in shadows.
He didn’t move didn’t say anything. He simply watched you, his masked face hiding whatever emotions were behind it. The familiar weight of his presence settled in your chest. Your heart skipped a beat, but you didn’t run. Instead, you stared back at him, trying to make sense of the moment.
What was he doing here?
Had he been watching you all this time?
Years of pain and uncertainty bubbled up inside you, but you didn’t speak. You couldn’t. Not yet.
Finally, Simon took a slow step forward, but stopped at the edge of your yard. He stood there for a long while, silent, his gaze never leaving you.
It wasn’t until you put down your paintbrush that he spoke. His voice was low and steady, as if nothing had changed. “You’ve been busy, huh?”
You nodded, unsure of what to say. It wasn’t the words that mattered it was the presence. The weight of everything that had come before this moment. Moments passed with just the two of you standing in silence.
“I never wanted to hurt you,” Simon continued. His words were raw, more vulnerable than you had ever heard them. “But I didn’t know how else to protect you.”
You stood still, letting the silence stretch between you, letting the weight of his apology settle in. It was enough for now. The years of hurt, of betrayal, of everything that had gone wrong, were too much to unpack in a single moment. But what you felt wasn’t anger anymore. It wasn’t rage. It was… sadness. A sadness that you had lost something you would never get back.
Finally, you broke the silence. “I’m okay now, Simon. I’ve found peace. I don’t need anything from you.” Your voice was soft but firm, as if you were reassuring yourself more than him.
His eyes softened his blond short hair slightly moving with the wind, It was calming in a sense staring at the face you once loved and would give your life for. And for a moment, you thought you saw a flicker of regret. But he said nothing. He simply nodded and turned, walking away into the night.
Months went by, and life returned to its quiet rhythm. You still painted, still gardened, still lived a life you could be proud of. You didn’t think about Simon every day, but there were moments like when the breeze would rustle the trees or when the stars hung low in the sky that you couldn’t help but wonder if he was out there, somewhere, still watching over you from a distance.
But you didn’t need him anymore. You had moved on, built a life for yourself, and in the end, that was all you could ask for. The weight of the past had finally begun to lift, and though there were days when you still felt the sting of what had been lost, you were stronger now. You had learned to live again.
And as you sat on your porch one evening, painting beneath the stars, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of peace. You had come a long way farther than you had ever thought possible and for the first time in years, you felt like you were exactly where you were meant to be.
Even if Simon still watched from afar, you knew that you were finally free.
This is where your journey truly began. The story of pain, loss, and healing had come full circle. It was no longer about the past, or the choices you made, but about the future you were building on your own terms.
Authors note: Hey everyone! I really hope you enjoy this chapter! I wasn't quite sure if I wanted to keep going with it because the last chapter felt like it could stand on its own, but all the love and encouragement from my last post inspired me to continue. I truly appreciate your support! Please let me know what you think and what else you’d love to see in the future. Your feedback means a lot to me!🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼
#cod 141#ghost#soap mw2#task force 141#captain price#gaz cod#mw2 141#141 x reader#tf 141 x you#ghost cod#kyle gaz x reader#kyle gaz garrick#kyle gaz smut#ghost x reader#gaz call of duty#ghost call of duty#simon ghost riley#light angst#angst#poly 141#john price x reader#price x reader#price cod#los vaqueros#alejandro vargas#soap x reader#soap call of duty#soapghost#john soap mactavish#soap cod
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Beautiful Release

Pairing: Din Djarin x F!Reader
Summary: You and Din have an agreement. Simple, clean, easy. But not this time.
Word Count: 4.1k
Warnings: Explicit, 18+ MINORS DNI, IT'S PEGGING DIN TIME! Anal sex (m receiving), rough sex, sex toys, fingering (m receiving), handjob, frottage, blowjob, swallowing, cumshot, mentions of oral sex (f receiving), mild dubcon (Reader isn't aware of Din's mental state and stops the session to re-negotiate boundaries), painful sex, sex as self-flagellation, hurt/comfort.
Notes: Welcome to my addition to the Peg That Middle Aged Man Event 2024! This idea had been bumping around in my brain and this gave me the perfect excuse to write it. Thanks @wannab-urs for organizing this event, making the gorgeous banners, and giving me a chance to live my fantasies after S3 gave us the most delicious kneeling restrained Din image. I will never forget it, it's burned into my brain forever.
Set after S2 and before The Book of Boba Fett.
Cross-posted on AO3
He’s come to you before, but never like this.
Din always treats your encounters like serendipity, but from the first time you’ve known how far from the truth that is. He finds ways to drift into your path, tilting his helmet like he never expected you to be at this spaceport, which you prefer for its discretion, or in this cantina, which serves a hell of a barium fizz. The niceties always devolve into the silent request, which you never fail to fulfill.
But now, there’s a holomessage blinking on your control panel.
Send me your coordinates. Usual encoding.
It’s brisk, cold, mostly to protect you both, but even then something’s off. He’s never admitted to seeking you out. Something stirs deep in your stomach, consulting the encoding slug he gave you ages ago in case you ever needed him. Funny, the first time you’d use it would be because you think he needs you.
Your winding relationship with Din Djarin began at the business end of a blaster, but you can’t fault him for that. The ship you were flying then had all the hallmarks of a slaver vessel, but when he found your crew of rebel sympathizers he lowered his weapon. One escort and a few short-lived conversations later, and you’d forged a razor-thin alliance.
Your paths wound their way across and through each other for over a year, and in that time Din warmed to you. He gave you his name, his allegiances, his contacts if needed. In return you forged documents and built jammers for his ramshackle ship. Mutually beneficial, and after a time pleasantly warm. His laugh always surprised you, a low chuckle when you turned a phrase just right on him.
And the kid! The curious little gremlin that had been accompanying him more in recent times did help to smooth the rough spots. Grogu’s presence always brightened your days, brief moments of pure joy from his tireless antics. Din seemed to be ever the exasperated protector, but when he tucked Grogu into his arm his aura glowed.
However, the times when Din “stumbled” upon you with seemingly no purpose had little to do with play dates or trades. Well, maybe only in the most euphemistic sense.
It was on a cargo run - cargo being more frightened people fleeing under the guise of your fake shipping business - that Din first encountered what would bring him back to you time and time again. There was a man among the stowaways who took an interest in you, the feeling mutual. He wound his way around like a lothcat in heat, and when you whispered how you might be able to pass the time he enthusiastically agreed.
You weren’t much of an exhibitionist, but the ship wasn’t meant for privacy. So when Din happened upon you bending the man over a cargo crate, your strap slickly splitting him open as he moaned behind your clamped hand, you did feel some mild embarrassment. You weren’t sure how long he watched you thrust into the other man, but the little cough that alerted you to his presence made you turn and take him in.
He was clearly affected, hand gripping his belt as the other clenched by his side. Fascinating. The Mandalorian had surprises in store.
The man garbled about sucking Din’s cock, letting the Mando cum on his face while you pounded his tight hole, but you stuck your fingers in his mouth and picked up your rhythm again. You’d met other Mandalorians in your travels, but Din’s particular religion was much stricter than most. He might take hefty offense if you assumed any of the armor could come off. Instead you let him watch without comment as your companion came all over the side of the cargo crate, soothing him through the aftershocks. As you cleaned him up you noticed your audience fled, and you determined never to speak of this.
It would take two months for Din to come to you.
“People like this?” he asked when you showed him your strap and assortment of attachments. You shrugged, picking out the one you secretly thought he’d enjoy.
“Some do, some don’t. It’s just one of many things I like,” you said, leaning against your bedroom wall as he filled the small space with restless energy. “I’m sure you like plenty of things too.”
There it was. The little roll of the shoulders and flex of a hand that told you Din wasn’t as inexperienced as some would believe.
“Never tried something like this,” he mumbled, and you smiled under the knowledge that he was nervous. Din Djarin, feared throughout the galaxy, and dearer friend than you ever expected, had something he wanted and didn't know how to ask for.
“Would you like to try it?” you said, taking the last barrier away. He tilted the helmet down, fingers restless on his hip.
“Yes.”
That first night you didn’t fuck him, though by the end he was so close to begging you almost came from the sound. Instead you opened him up with your fingers, got him used to the feeling of fullness and how to connect it to pleasure, while he laid on your bed and gripped the sheets so hard you thought he’d rip them. His pants bunched across his thighs, you got to admire the cords of muscle rippling as you made him shake and choke. His cock, velvety and weeping on his stomach, made your mouth water, but you only offered to suck it when he was just on the precipice. Your hot mouth wrapping around his head, two clever fingers stroking his prostate, tipped him over into bliss as he shouted his completion. Pride swelled in your chest at his belabored breath, chestplate heaving and thighs quivering on either side of your head.
When you returned from cleaning up he was already dressed again, despite your protests to wait and let you ease him down from this new experience. He thanked you, awkwardly, and left quickly. Lying in the same bed that night, still smelling of him, you reasoned with yourself. He probably had a lot of feelings to sort out, both around his pleasure and the fact that you gave it to him. You hoped he trusted you enough to know you’d be discreet. And, as your fingers slid into your underwear, you hoped he’d seek you out again.
It was only a week before you were at the same spaceport again, his heavy boots clanking up your ramp. You tried to hide your own nerves, but when Din stood before you and let the visor drag up and down your body, a delicious grin crept onto your face.
“Ready to try more?”
Indeed he was.
He enters your ship without preamble, a brief flit of concern clouding your features at how quickly he disarmed your security measures. You weren’t expecting him for another hour. He must have jumped to get to you.
It’s thrilling, to know the Mandalorian’s need is so great.
But when he enters and closes the door behind him, the energy is…off. Not seductive, teasing, edged like the other times. No, he’s holding his body so tight and so still. There’s nothing aggressive in it, but you glimpse why his enemies fear him. Without a face, and with so much obscuring the flesh beneath, you’re not sure when he’ll strike.
He catches you rummaging through your drawer, the strap in your hand. Assessing, you give him a gentler smile than usual, hands visible, softening your stance.
“Hello, Din.”
He nods, quickly, unbuckling his belt and yanking his cape free. Both fall to the floor carelessly. You press on.
“How about you tell me what you want?” you say, watching him carefully as he opens his pants plaquet. The mouthwatering strip of skin you covet peeks from beneath his top.
“Just need…need this,” he says, and while naturally a man of few words you’d taught him to be more vocal in this respect.
“Okay, Din. How about you kneel on the bed and we start there?” Your voice lowers into a soothing register, reaching for his arm.
“No,” he almost shouts, startling your hand back. He recovers. “No, I want…” You can practically hear him licking his lips on a sigh, slowing himself down. “Can you sit against the headboard?”
Brows raised, you nod. He’s never ridden you before, always preferring to let you take him from behind or on his back. Pulling the strap-on over your leggings, you settle against the headboard and wait for him. He doesn’t take long, kneeling on the bed briefly in contemplation before swinging over your lap. Shucking his pants half down his legs, you can’t resist a giggle.
“Might be better to take them off,” you tease, letting your hands lay featherlight on his hips. A huff crackles through the vocoder but he doesn’t move to disrobe further.
“I’ll open you up a bit first,” you say, one hand reaching for lube while the other snakes its way to his hole. You encounter surprising slickness, but he’s nowhere as warmed up as you get him.
“S’okay, I took care of it,” he mumbles, both hands coming up to grip the headboard above your head. Slicking lube on the dildo, you move to finger him enough to ease your way in.
“Just a little more…”
“I’m fine.”
The curt retort snaps your face to the helmet, now more of a cowled chin and shining halo of beskar above your head. There’s something bubbling uncomfortably under the surface, something you feel the need to drag out by the scruff of the neck, but it’s Din. You never talk feelings with Din. Frankly, you barely talk at all during, or after, any of your nights together.
“Sorry,” he breathes, forcing relaxation. “I’m ready. Please.”
Your eyes linger for a moment longer, then you circle the base of your cock in waiting.
He descends slowly, gritted breaths and sharp blasts of air from his nose echoing above you. You watch the strain in his thighs as he sinks and sinks, his cock only half-hard against his stomach. Leaving a hand on one hip, you stroke soothing paths up and down his lower back, watching for discomfort. Instead he’s marble around you, coiled, body not releasing as usual. Normally when you fuck him he dissolves, rolling his hips back onto you and choking out praises of how good you feel.
None of that comes. He meets the base of your cock and immediately slides back up at an almost punishing pace. He can’t be that acclimated yet, and his pained hisses and grunts only make that more apparent.
“Din, slow down,” you request, hands firmer on his hips to try and even his pace. If he heard you he says nothing, now slamming his hips down on your cock. “Din,” you beseech again, nails starting to dig in. His grunts grow to growls, something from the heat of battle, your headboard creaking from his crushing grip.
Clarity overtakes you, the shudder of his stomach and forceful downstrokes only getting more intense. There wasn’t pleasure in this. Something is eating up Din inside and he’s trying to fuck it out of himself. And he’s using you to do that.
“Din Djarin, STOP.”
The echo of your voice, strong and steely, finally brings Din to a stop with your cock buried deep in his ass. His chest heaves in front of you, limbs quivering from the exertion, but he’s as still as he can be. Gripping his chestplate, you push him back enough to look him in the visor, your anger righteously reflected back.
“You don’t punish yourself with my cock,” you order, teeth clenched and seething. “Do you think so little of me, that I’d just let you rip yourself to shreds without a word?”
Din freezes, but this time you know it’s shame. If you were in a clearer headspace you might have tried reassurance, or asked him to lay beside you and talk about what’s destroying him, but you’re just too upset.
“Is that all you come to me for?” you spit out, knuckles aching from gripping his armor. He’s silent for long enough that you consider throwing him out before he speaks.
“Something happened. And I just want to…be empty. To not think about it every moment.” He leans forward and your visage warps as he presses his forehead to the crown of your head. The anger thrums but starts to ebb as he folds around you. “I didn’t know where else to go. You’ve always taken care of me. More than I deserve.”
The sadness in his voice is palpable, and even with your mouth still sour from his deception you find the compassion to wrap your arms around his middle. The chestplate presses into your cheek, a metronome for Din’s slowing breaths.
“If you have any care in your heart for me, don’t ever do that again,” you grit out. Din’s breath catches.
“I care for you,” he says, and a door in your heart you never realized was cracked widens for Din’s admission.
“I care for you too, you karking asshole, which is why I want you to say something instead of trying to hate fuck your feelings out.”
Din’s chest begins to shake again, but you’re sure it’s laughter this time. You manage a giggle of your own, letting him lean back and look at you again. The motion shifts your cock in him, and his sharp sigh arches your brow.
“If you wanted to forget, you could have just told me,” you say, rolling your hips sensuously up into his clenching hole. Din’s head drops back, grip tightening on the headboard again as you grind into him.
“Please,” he begs, so soft and vulnerable you can’t help but give him what he needs.
Slowly you press up into him, guiding his hips to rock on your cock. You love the feel of his ass in your hands, well muscled and perfect for grabbing, manhandling him just enough to show he can let go. He follows your direction reluctantly at first, but as you plant your feet and start thrusting with more range he loosens. You can feel it in his arms, holding on to the headboard for dear life, and the building rhythm of his hips meeting yours. For a man whose life is violence, you never want to bring that into your sessions. But a light swat on one asscheek pulls the most delicious moan from deep in his chest.
“Fuck,” he groans, bearing down on you even more. Tilting your hips, you arch his back enough that you’re sure to hit his prostate on the next thrust.
“Maker!”
There it is.
“Close your eyes,” you whisper. Waiting a moment, you zero in on that perfect spot inside him and hit it with every one of your thrusts. “Do you feel that? Feel how good I’m fucking you?”
“Yes, fuck,” Din curses, one hand flitting down to squeeze the base of his cock. He’s at full attention now, head bobbing against your stomach. You swell with pride that he’s having to stave off his orgasm so quickly, but you’ll be the one to make those decisions now.
“All I want you to think about is how good you feel,” you purr, tugging his hand away and replacing it with your own. You long for his skin against yours, so you pull up your shirt to skim the head of his cock against your soft belly. He chokes, stuttering away but he’s trapped between your hand and thighs.
“Wait, Maker, I’ll cum if you…” he garbles, but his body keeps meeting your grinds. You shush him gently, stroking from base to tip and smearing precum over the head.
“You will, but only when I let you. You know I’ll make it good for you, make nothing but this pleasure you’re feeling fill that head of yours.” His rapid nod almost knocks you in the head with the beskar, but he manages to tuck into your neck instead. The helmet is a shocking cool against your skin, but the act of burrowing into you must be rewarded. Bringing your arms around him, you press along the length of his body, trapping his cock between.
“I’m gonna pound into this tight ass until you cum all over us. You like that?” The wail Din lets out shoots heat to your cunt, wishing more than anything that you’d opted for a toy that gave you a little stimulation too. Instead you hammer fast and hard, barely pulling out. Your hips and thighs burn with exertion at his bulk on top of you, but he’s frantically bouncing back and rutting his cock into the wet mess your bodies make.
“Don’t stop,” he gasps, and you’re not sure if it’s the vocoder but you think his voice sounds watery. “Please, cyar’ika, don’t stop.”
Cupping the back of his neck, damp with sweat, you whisper, “I’ve got you.”
With a handful of final pumps you’re coated in his cum, sliding around your belly as he seizes over and over. Pressing deep, you hold strong against his shuddering body as he finishes. Each weakening thrust draws him down on you, heavier and loose-limbed.
The armor makes it hard to find the soft spots, so you take to kneading the back of his neck and palming his spine. Before his last aftershock, you urge him higher on his knees so you can slip your cock out - slowly, so as not to shock his jellying body. Easing him down, you hold his head in the crook of your neck and settle him on your lap. His hands slide down from the headboard to your shoulders.
Then you hear it. A tiny sniff, then another. You can’t pretend you didn’t notice them so close to your ear. So you gather the broad man in your arms and hold him. His hands don’t know where to rest, finally winding loosely around your lower back.
“It’s okay, I’ve got you,” you tell him again, and the sniffing starts to recede. His body, however, slumps against yours, and it takes all of your strength not to start giggling.
You fucked the Mandalorian right to sleep. Bravo to you.
When Din finally stirs, a deep rumble in his throat, it’s been almost an hour. Your toes are half numb and you’re dying to shift into any other position, but much like a lothcat falling asleep on your lap, you couldn’t bear to move Din. Especially when he started snoring, one of the most endearing and hilarious sounds you’d ever heard him make.
In the time he slept you wondered what happened. What terrible thing hollowed him out and haunts him. Something keeps him up at night, if the depth of his sleep is any indication. Recent, possibly. Traumatic.
Your breath caught in your throat. If something happened to Grogu you know he would have told you. You ask after him all the time, teasing that you’ll be his Auntie (Din always says he has plenty of them across the galaxy).
Had you seen the Razor Crest fly up? Where was that old bird anyway?
What happened in the time since Din last saw you?
The cycle of possibilities always ends the same. Maybe he cares for you in some way, but not enough for you to ask. No matter how much you want to.
A shift on your lap alerts you to Din waking, kneading his shoulders and neck lightly to alert him to your presence. He’s never slept with you before, but it wouldn’t surprise you to learn that he’s quick to draw at unexpected circumstances. Of which this one definitely is.
“What…” Din croaks, and if not for the helmet you would have offered him water.
“It’s okay, you’re on my ship. You’re okay.”
It takes Din another minute to realize what’s happened. Him, half naked on your lap with your strap pressing against his ass. You, covered in drying cum beneath him. In a flash he’s swinging his leg off your lap, attempting to stand but obviously they’ve gone as numb as yours because he stumbles and crashes out of sight.
“Oh kriff, are you…?” you start to ask, but as quick as he’s out of sight he pops back up again, tugging up his pants and tucking himself away.
“Sorry, that was…I didn’t mean to…do that.”
All of the heaviness and anger and lust fizzles away to laughter as you try to suppress the ridiculousness of the moment. After a moment of indigent head tilting Din’s shoulder also shake, chuckles fuzzing out of the vocoder.
“Oh Maker, what an understatement that is,” you sigh, wiping your stomach with the edge of your bedsheets. Din visibly cringes, hands on his hips.
“Sorry for the mess,” he apologizes, but you wave it off.
“I’ve had much worse, believe me,” you shoot back. Clean enough, you sit on the edge of the bed and look up at the inscrutable man.
“Want to talk about it?”
Din’s stance shifts, helmet tipping down for a moment before coming back to your face.
“...Not yet.”
You hum and nod. “Well, you know how to find me if you do.”
Din nods. “Thank you.”
As he picks up his effects you shimmy off the harness at the foot of the bed, mentally ticking through the steps to clean everything. Din watches you set it down, stilling until your eyes come back to him.
“It gives you pleasure as well?” he asks, which raises one of your eyebrows.
“I mean, about as much as rhythmically hitting your hips against someone can do.” His posture changes into something hard to decipher, so you continue. “I’ve got a few that do more for me, but it depends on the person I’m with. Comfort, boundaries. As you’re well aware.” You gesture to the armor, his chin tucking down to look at it.
“So you’ve never cum with me?” he asks, and a sudden feverish heat blooms under your skin. Din has a sex appeal you appreciate, but have never acted on beyond what he’s asked for. Now, something’s changed so dizzyingly fast you’re scrambling.
“Well, you’re pretty spent after our sessions. And you leave quickly. I don’t ask for more than you can give.”
Din takes a step towards you, putting his belt and cloak back down.
“What do you ask of other people you fuck?”
Your heart hammers in your chest. How can he turn the tables so quickly and spectacularly? Trying to gain the upper hand, you pull a confident face on and speak as breezily as possible.
“Most can’t get it up twice after I fuck them within an inch of their life, so fingers, tongues, toys, any and all of the above are excellent ways to repay the favor.”
He’s even closer now, and the facade is barely holding up. It’s like the vulnerability he showed you can’t possibly be returned.
“You’ve never asked me,” he says, and you can’t believe there’s a note of regret in his voice. The bed hits the back of your legs, and you steady your voice even though those words make your pussy throb.
“I didn’t think it was allowed.” Your voice drops low as Din steps into your space.
“Difficult, but not forbidden.” Din’s hands come to your shoulders. “Sit down, please.”
Your knees fold so fast you bounce on the bed, looking up at him. He joins you on one knee, hands coming to rest on your thighs.
“I broke my Creed. I would do it again, for the exact same reason, but now that makes me an apostate.” His hands come to the helmet, thumbs tucking underneath the lip.
“Din, what happened?”
He pauses, and you swear you can feel his gaze through that smoky visor.
“Close your eyes.”
Darkness surrounds you, then a hiss and a thunk.
Then the voice of a man you care for, unfiltered and bare.
“I’m not ready for anyone to see my face. But I want this, with you. If you can forgive me.”
You could be dreaming still. It would make just as much sense.
“I forgive you, Din. But just this once,” you sneak in at the end just to hear how melodic his laugh sounds. Then his hand splays over your stomach and urges you to lie back.
“I hope you don’t mind teaching me this. I don’t have much experience,” he says, fire licking through your body as he tugs your leggings and underwear off.
“Don’t worry, you’re a quick learner,” you say breathily.
And when he finally kisses you, sweet with your musk on his tongue and your orgasm dripping from his fingers, you teach him how to do that as well.
END
"I need some distraction Oh a beautiful release Memories seep from my veins Let me be empty Oh and weightless and maybe I'll find some peace tonight.
Sarah McLachlan, Angel (yeah I know I used the sad dog song)
#PMAMC 2024#din djarin x you#din djarin x reader#din djarin x female reader#din djarin x f!reader#mando x reader#mando x you#mando x f!reader#the mandalorian x f!reader#the mandalorian x female reader#the mandalorian x reader#the mandalorian x you#the mandalorian fanfiction#mando fanfiction#din djarin fanfiction#prolix fics
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I have like 15 WIPS going right now but here's a snippet from one of my Steter fics for your viewing pleasure: If anyone ever asked Stiles for the most important thing he’d learn so far about being in a werewolf pack they would probably expect him to say something like “Always keep a weapon with you, danger could appear at any moment” or “Be sure to learn pack customs. You do NOT want to make a faux pas in front of a visiting alpha”.
They likely would not be expecting what he views as the most important rule - Stiles’ Guide to Surviving Werewolves Rule #1, the Golden Rule: Do not fall in love with the black sheep of the pack. If on the off chance you do, however, certainly do NOT become the pack researcher who has to spend copious amounts of time with said black sheep who just happens to have the most extensive werewolf library for 150 miles in every direction.
Stiles is sad to report that he broke rule number 1 almost immediately after Peter dragged himself out of the grave Derek had buried him after the Kate fiasco.
It was totally not his fault though, it was Peter’s fault for looking so damn sexy with his perpetual smirk and those v-neck sweaters he kept insisting on wearing that dipped scandalously low, just the faintest hint of chest hair peeking out. It was Peter’s fault for luring Stiles in with the promise of books and then learning to cook Stiles’ favorite meals because “You look like a strong wind could tip you over. You’ll get killed at this rate, eat the damn pasta Stiles.” It was Peter’s fault for being the only one of the pack to treat him like a human.
Sure, the others knew he was human, they would never let him forget it, really, but they still treated him like a wolf and seemed to forget that he didn't have all the wolfy perks. They would take off running away from danger, leaving him to scramble to catch up when they forget he doesn't have enhanced speed. They clap him on the back and shoulder with full strength, either forgetting their new strength or forgetting his lack of healing. They hold conversations seemingly based on chemosignals and eyebrows, forgetting to clue Stiles into the things his senses were incapable of picking up. Let’s not even mention the time Erica hit him over the head with part of the Jeep or the time Scott jokingly pushed Stiles into the lockers at school so hard he nearly dislocated his shoulder.
But while the pack treated Stiles like a weak, defective werewolf, Peter treated Stiles like a strong human. Peter’s hands were firm when redirecting Stiles, but never painful. He was always sure to set some food aside for Stiles after seeing the pack devour a feast before Stiles even reached the kitchen one too many times. He had no qualms with sending Stiles home to sleep, or just pushing him towards a couch when Stiles stayed awake too long on a research binge, even if it brought the pack’s ire at not finding out information fast enough.
Stiles wasn't a werewolf, he never tried to pretend he was. Peter seemed to be the only one to recognize that. That’s why Peter was Stiles’ favorite pack member. That’s why Stiles blamed Peter for making him fall head over heels, totally, unfathomably in love with him.
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hii!!! sorry i forgot to specify gender- trans male reader 😭😭
mayuri was definitely. unnerving. seeing him at first … especially with how he treated nemu, you’re very right!! i started to really like him after his fight with szayelaporro, hes very interesting ^_^
-🐊 anon
Hello again!! I attached the original ask because it'd help with context. Thank you for sending something in, my lovely 🐊 anon. I hope you like it and are still enjoying Bleach 💜🧡
There would be no feelings—that was the agreement. He was in no position to take on a partner, seeing as his business took up far too much of his freetime. Even with knowing he wouldn’t give you what you really wanted, you couldn’t help yourself; you kept coming back for more.
CW: NSFW, MDNI, trans m!reader, hard sex, penetrative sex, general terms used for reader, top surgery scars briefly mentioned, undefined relationship, angst
Blurred lines (Crocodile)
A man like him was hard to get close to. Well, that was only half true. Physical intimacy could be given out like playing cards, but it so rarely was an entry to many’s hearts.
“What were you doing messing around with a man like him?” You often asked yourself this question but never had the answer. Suppose you developed genuine feelings for him—you already had. Suppose you decided to confront him about your feelings—you wouldn’t be so brave. Suppose there was a chance he returned your love—wishful thinking, that was all it was.
Each time that familiar pain rattled in your chest, it was momentarily soothed by the affection shown in the bedroom behind closed doors, where only the two of you know of your relationship. A band-aid plastered on the open wound only to be ripped off at your darkest hour, and yet he was the only one who made you feel alive.
A tango with the wolf who had shed his sheep’s clothing brought on obvious danger, but were you wrong to crave more? You shouldn’t keep going back, let alone fall for him. The heart wanted what the heart wanted.
Escorted to the premise just as discreetly as all the times before, as you climbed the steps to the chambers of hot and cold relations, that unsettling pain spread throughout your chest.
The fire was set—leaving the embers to dance with the life that would emanate within the room without long. The bed was made with those silky sheets you commented on liking once—filling your head with thoughts that your opinion was held in high regard. The man who you’d be lying with—a thrill that accompanied each rendezvous.
The world was treacherous even on its calm days, and although you knew he’d never truly offer you solace from the gale force winds, you took comfort in his arms if only for a night.
His hands favor your hips. He guided you closer to him, and you allowed him to press against you. The grip he had tightened. Your hands found their way to his chest, already clinging to the fabric covering the body that kept you awake at night when apart.
Taking handfuls of the backside that left him wanting more, he leaned in closely. His lips ghosted yours as if savoring the light gasps that left them. So frail and weak on the outside but a starved attention whore deep within.
“You like how I touch you, don’t you?” A low grumble trailed past your ear.
Your fingers raked down his chest. The way your smaller frame seemed to fit so perfectly with his was a weapon you wielded.
“I especially love when you throw me around and pin me into whatever position you need to have me in.” Your voice lulled him into the trance he would never admit being under.
“Such a naughty thing.” He picked you up effortlessly and tossed you on the bed. Swiftly tugging your bottoms off, you eagerly ripped your shirt off.
When he flipped you on your stomach, you arched your back—a succulent piece of meat ready to be devoured.
He ran his hand down your back, letting it linger on your ass before landing a rough slap to it. That yelp you made never failed to put a sadistic smile on his face. His hand gripped your soft flesh, unable to resist spreading you. The way your breath quickened had you squeezing each sensitive nerve under his watchful gaze.
Without warning, he spit on your most private area. His saliva was dripping down your taint, serving as a pathetic excuse for lube as he plunged a finger in. Your body took to him instantly, wrapping around his thick finger and meeting his pumps with your own bucking enthusiasm.
“What’s the matter? Didn’t I fuck you hard enough last time?” He leaned down. With a fair amount of his body weight on you, your breaths quickened from the increased pressure. “Or are you just being greedy?”
He put in a second finger. His eyes stayed on your face, intently watching as the pleasure he was giving you etched on your face. Your body squirmed and withered under him, making you move further from where he wanted you. He slammed his hook over your neck. The sudden force of the chilled metal made you shriek.
“Stay still,” he ordered.
You huffed and panted, quaked and groaned: each sound and reaction you had was pushing his control to its limit. With your shame tightening around him, you were just about to go over that edge.
He pulled out. Your begs for more were only met with a low laugh—such a pathetic mess you were.
You felt as light as a feather when he manhandled you—flipped and turned however he desired you. On your back was one of your favorites. Adoring how his hand wandered over your torso, grazing your scars just to find your perky nipples. As embarrassing as you once thought, Crocodile couldn’t get enough of those sweet moans when he pinched and plucked at them.
The heat nipping at your cheeks only added to your allure. Your legs trembled from the unexpected gentle caress between your legs. Such tenderness had your body rutting and pressing against his hand, yearning for more while desperately wanting more of what he was offering.
“Such a needy thing.” He grunted while positioning himself between your legs. The gaping hole of your arousal was beginning to twitch from the lack of attention. Slapping his cock against you, he barely gave you a moment before pushing inside of you.
A guttural groan sounded through the room as he picked up the pace. The way your body moved from the force of his hips combined with the silky fabric posed a slight issue—you escaping from him.
He pinned you under his hook once more, growling from the way you cried out. With your shoulders smacking against the metal and your lower half unable to stop shaking from your quickly approaching climax, you clung to him to help stabilize yourself.
“S-so good…” You whimpered through a clenched jaw.
Each thrust, your entire body stroking him fully, the choked gasps: you were perfect. A final thrust, he pulled out to coat you and the body he owned with layers of white hot lust.
Your shared high had the stars lingering in your vision, giving him an appearance that was far more angelic than he deserved. Gazing down at you, the same warmth was undoubtedly reciprocated. But he was a man with no time to commit to a relationship. That was what he told himself
#kinktober 2024#x reader#one piece#one piece x reader#one piece imagine#op#one piece x you#sir crocodile#crocodile#crocodile x reader#crocodile x you#crocodile one piece#one piece smut#op x reader#op x you
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given the chance, which gun boys do you think would be the most likely to trade their current lives for a life as a human? even if they had a master that treated them well?
This is not an exhaustive list (it depends HEAVILY on circumstance), but here are a few of the ones who came to mind! Including the hilarious Napoleon kinnie Antique who I don't officially write for yet~
. . .
Pennsylvania — Not for any deep reasons, really, but the idea of fucking off from all civilization and going to live in the woods both very much appeals to him, and isn't possible as a military-owned summoned weapon. Avoiding all the hardships and responsibilities of being an owned tool sounds awfully nice, by now.
Siegblut — Although he doesn't exactly see the possibility of a human life as better (Sieg is convinced he exists to suffer, pretty much), it would at least get rid of the "Masters keep dying" problem; and that's one type of misery he'd do almost anything to escape. Rather than wanting to be human, he just wants that pain to stop.
Murata — For him, it's more a matter of protecting Arisaka than seeking any particular happiness for himself. And since Arisaka would surely struggle with being human, in Murata's mind, it would make more sense to take on the role of Arisaka's Master and give him a happy life. Of course, he's not really the type to dwell on fantasies...
89 — Rationally, he knows that living as a human probably wouldn't be any easier than the way his life is now, but rational thinking doesn't quite kill the hope that he might be even a little better at being a person than he is at being a gun. The "normal" lives humans get seem so nice from a distance, 89 can't help but envy it.
Napoleon — As far as he's concerned, he already is human. Does that count? Don't question it; he isn't thinking too hard about the precise details of how that's even possible, and neither should you! More seriously, however, he would be far less interested in humanity if he knew it meant leaving a certain few of his fellow guns behind.
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Day 14 of SuperMari May had the prompt Ripped Shirt/Pants
@maribat-calendar-events
AO3 Link
Marinette was thrilled to be working with the Justice League. Sure, she had to be polite to Superman who she considered to be the devil incarnate but! Extra time with Alya. And she was thrilled at the thought of helping on a grander scale than what she'd done in Paris.
After the first couple of easy missions where she was paired exclusively with the Bats, Alya, and Adrien she was told she and Alya would be working with Superboy and Damian as well as a few other heroes that she didn't know very well yet. She wasn't the team lead so she was happy to follow along, and since it was Alya instead of Adrien, she was pretty sure they were going to stay in mission headspace.
Everything was going well as the group used a Zeta Tube to get as close as possible, general camaraderie flowing easily. They were being sent to Chad to chase down smugglers trying to send weapons to support someone in America. From what Marinette understood from the gossip, Luthorcorp was involved somehow. But for this mission they were to infiltrate a warehouse and destroy whatever cache of weapons was there as well as collect as much evidence as possible.
Huddled in the shadows of the warehouse, Alya started outlining the plan she had formulated, speaking quickly and quietly now that she'd had a chance to see the place in person. And that's when things went sideways.
The explosion of the non-descript warehouse hit the team and Superboy tried to shield any non powered heroes nearby. He'd forgone his jacket so that he didn't overheat but it left his shirt vulnerable to the shrapnel that pelted him.
Marinette had thrown herself in front of Damian, knowing her suit would give him protection he simply didn't have. To his credit he didn't shove her away, allowing her to shield him. She glanced at everyone else as she kept him safe, freezing when Superboy collapsed after the blast ended, his t-shirt torn.
“Superboy!” She shouted, but she couldn't get over to him before a team of assassins dropped down on them all. Damian leapt into action, katana coming out and flashing as he fended off the first to reach them.
Marinette fought her way over to the fallen Super, separating into several smaller versions of herself to try overwhelming their opponents. She was more glad than ever that she had been working with Damian to improve her fighting. She managed to subdue - read, make unconscious - the assassins between her and Superboy and re-joined into one of herself so she could focus on him.
Kon groaned when someone rolled him over and he heard them gasp. His chest felt like it was on fire, pinpricks of pain radiating through him. He didn't know why they'd used kryptonite in their bomb but it was incredibly inconvenient. He opened an eye as whoever it was started pulling bits of it out of his skin and found Multimouse frowning as she worked.
“Can't keep your hands off me, huh?” Kon said with a flirty grin that felt like a pale imitation of his usual one. Multimouse rolled her eyes and stayed focused on his t-shirt. She was steady as she plucked pieces of kryptonite out of his skin, placing them as far away from him as possible without losing track of them. “I’m sure it's a real treat to see me with my shirt off but try not to swoon.”
“Superboy, if you don't shut up, I'm going to feed the pieces of glowing green rock to you instead of putting them away,” she said firmly. He pursed his lips but fell silent as she worked, listening to the sounds of fighting around them. “There. I'm going to take this shrapnel over to be disposed of, try not to get hit by any more, okay?”
When he looked around he saw that most of the team had gathered to the side, Scarabella activating her power of Lucky Charm. He joined them, careful to dodge the various piles of rubble in case it was kryptonite laced. As he reached them he could tell their original plan was shot and he wondered if they needed to fall back and regroup.
“What's the plan here, Mouse?” Scarabella asked, turning to the smaller heroine. Multimouse’s eyes were flickering around the area, assumedly taking everything in as she thought.
“Okay, we're going to need Chat for this to go smoothly, unless someone shows up to nix our plans,” she said, glancing around. When nobody objected, she relaxed and started to fiddle with the lucky charm Scarabella had conjured.
Whilst most of Kon's flirting with Multimouse was performative, he'd be lying if he said her taking charge of the situation and ordering them about didn't give him feelings. The fact that her plan worked flawlessly, the warehouse ending up a pile of decayed ash along with everything in it, was the metaphorical cherry on top.
As soon as it was over, Chat loped over to him, smiling. Ever since their trip into space together they'd been easy friends. Chat was one of the few people who didn't pity him for his origin story. He was sympathetic but he didn't tiptoe around the topic as though it would cease to be a defining part of him if they didn't discuss it. No, Chat made jokes and teased him for having ‘a weirder childhood’ than him, which he seemed to think was an impossible feat up to that point.
“Told you she was an absolute powerhouse,” was the first thing Chat said, leaning on his baton. “Scar usually comes up with the battle strategies but Mouse is who we turn to when push comes to shove. Her brain is just wired differently.”
“Yeah, I can see that. She had me at her mercy before you got here and not a single flirt, it was depressing. You said she was single, right?”
“I told you, she doesn't flirt in the mask,” Chat said ruefully. The pair watched as Multimouse fussed over Robin, hands moving over him carefully to check for any injuries. “As someone who flirted with her for a full year in-mask, I can say with absolute certainty that she won't crack.”
“I guess I just need to find out who to flirt with under the mask then,” Kon grinned.
“Yeah, good luck with that,” Chat laughed, his eyes full of mirth. There seemed to be hidden depths to that statement but Scarabella came over at that point to gather everyone to head back to base.
_ _ _
“Adrien, I've now touched his chest without being concussed and I think I'm in trouble,” Marinette said as soon as they were set up for movie night in her apartment. She had her head buried in her arms, spread out across the sofa so he had nowhere to sit. Not that that stopped him, he just sat on her legs and patted her back comfortingly.
“Of course you are,” he said consolingly, lifting slightly so she could move her legs out of the way and sit up. “Do you want to talk about how dreamy he is?”
“Ha ha, you suck,” she said, sticking her tongue out at him as she smoothed a blanket over her legs. “I don't think it would be so difficult if I hadn't stayed at the Tower that time.”
Adrien hummed thoughtfully, thinking to how she had described the way Superboy had behaved when it was just the two of them. He was half convinced that Superboy must be just as into her as she was him, but Marinette insisted it wasn't the case. She had a bad track record of falling in love easily when it wasn't reciprocal. After all of the mental strain of living through Hawkmoth she had a tendency to try and cut off any and all feelings before they got further than skin-deep.
“You know you don't have to avoid any feelings you get for him, right?” Adrien asked after a couple of minutes. She scoffed and he bit his lip, wondering how to help her. “You're both adults and he seems at least a little interested in Multimouse. It could work out.”
“Except he's not interested in Marinette,” she moaned, burying her face in his shoulder. “Why? Why is it every time I fall for someone it ends like this?”
“How is this the end, Nette?” Adrien asked gently. “If you really like him that much, why don't you ask Tim to find out what's going on?”
“You want me to tell Tim that I'm crushing on his other best friend? The same friend that he tried to keep me away from, presumably because he was worried about this exact scenario?” Marinette asked, lifting her head to give him a deadpan look. She shook her head when he held her gaze. “I'm not risking messing up friendships. Besides, I probably don't even have time to date, and almost definitely not another hero.”
Adrien knew that she was trying to talk herself out of it. But he didn't have a solid argument against it, just a feeling that it wasn't as hopeless as she thought. So he distracted her instead, starting the movie she'd picked - 27 Dresses, her comfort film - and resolved to become better friends with Superboy himself. Maybe once he could see both sides of it, he could make sure Marinette wouldn't get hurt.
_ _ _
Tim reviewed the reports from the Chad expedition and frowned. They'd had no intel that the weapons dealer was working with kryptonite but it wasn't surprising considering who they thought was behind it. Ideally they would infiltrate Luthorcorp and gather information directly, because it was clear they were prepared for the party that tried to remove the threat, but it was difficult finding a reason.
Maybe it was time to try and send in one of the Miraculous team, he mused. The magic surrounding their identities would make it easier for them to fly under the radar and they really needed to find out what Lex was up to. He would file that thought for later and hope that one of the team would be receptive when he found a viable excuse for them to be there.
He sighed and pushed all thoughts of paperwork aside as he decided that maybe it was time to turn in. He'd been staying up late for several days with Marinette, working old cases and discussing her latest commissions and even she'd decided to take the night off after her mission.
Changing into his casual clothes, he passed by Damian who was getting ready to head out on patrol with Jason. An unusual pairing and it made him pause and eye them warily.
“Hey, what are you two up to tonight?” He asked, making both of them turn to look at him. Jason huffed and disregarded him but Damian actually answered.
“Hood and I are going to be tracking down a shipment of weapons that I believe appeared in Gotham a week or so ago. The evidence of the League of Assassins being involved in today's mission concerns me and Hood is being gracious enough to investigate with me. If you find any additional information, please make us aware.”
Tim nodded before heading back up into the manor, thinking. He shouldn't have been surprised that Damian was investigating his own line of enquiry, especially when the League of Assassins was involved. The kid was fourteen now, passed the stressful introduction he'd had to the family and he'd had positive influences around him for at least four years. Even in just the months since Marinette had come to the manor Damian had improved.
Tim was so deep in thought that he didn't remember to move around the sharp edge of a table that had been ‘relocated’ during an enthusiastic game of hide and seek. Pain flared in his knee and he hissed and glared at the offending piece of furniture.
Sighing and slightly thankful nobody had witnessed him walking into a table, he checked the damage and was surprised to find that he was bleeding. Not only that, there was a hole in his trousers that looked like they would be impossible to repair. Not that he was the expert but he wasn't sure he wanted to admit how he had damaged them to Marinette.
Grumbling as he went, he put his phone on do not disturb and threw them in his hamper, deciding it was a trouble for a different day.
#maribat#mlb x dc#supermari may#supermari may 2025#konette#marinette x kon#kon x marinette#dc x mlb#ao3#fanfic#ao3 fanfic#maribat event#ripped clothes
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KINK EVENT = Handholding, Missionary
Men's Side Women's Side
IRON = TAGER ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆
This position is not easy at his size; there’s a good chance you’ll have to modify it somewhat. As such, Tager may not request or suggest missionary- he may not request or suggest anything at all, preferring to give you the space to figure out how you want to go about this. He’s… painfully aware of the complications his form poses.
But how could he not love a moment like this? It’s a way to reconnect with the humanity he’s lost, the life he may awkwardly mourn in silence, that his faded memories refuse to let him know. It’s a chance to be treated like a man, not machine, not monster.
No matter the position you choose, he’ll be drawn to holding your delicate hand in his. It’s a silent way he can prove to you that he can be gentle, that he swears he will be, and that you can trust him during this.
HAKUMEN ☆ ☆ ☆
Can Hakumen even have sex? Well, even ignoring the debate about what that armor may be equipped with, if one were to open their third eye and accept that ‘sex’ isn’t limited to Penis-In-Hole Interaction… well, the man undeniably has hands, and plenty of body to grind on, is all I’m saying.
Being what he is, everything he’s meant for and everything he seeks to embody, he’s not very open to the idea of sex. Ever since his past life, Jin has always been the type to reject intimacy. But he’s never been immune to it. To the contrary- despite his best efforts, he’s always been desperate for it.
He’ll humor this, at your insistence. You must be mad to see anything desirable in this body… but he loves you too much to deny you forever. He’s felt the pain of leaving feelings unsaid, unshown, before.
You can tell he’s enjoying himself by how quiet he is. No snide remarks to be found. He holds your hand as gently as he can, but being what he is, that isn’t saying much. The Susano’o Unit was never meant for gentleness, it was never meant for this, and the long-dead Jin Kisaragi within feels a need to cling to you with all his strength lest he lose you somehow. He’s prone to rubbing your hand with his thumb; the talons he bears may prick your skin, but they won’t draw blood.
Rest your forehead against his mask. Grant him a fleeting dream of what could have been.
KAZUMA = KVAL ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆
Kazuma’s sense of self is so… blurry. He’s got one foot in humanity he has no right too, a longing for purpose, connection, a family somewhere out there who might be missing his absence… and the other foot stepping off a ledge, into an abyss that sees no worth in human connection, no joy in tenderness.
So hold him. Look at him. See him. Want him. The closeness is almost threatening, but this far in he can’t bring himself to ruminate over it- not now, not with the way you’re cooing at him. The chance to get a glimpse at his blushing face through those bangs is divine. He keeps squeezing your hand, overwhelmed by this sense of presence he’s never felt before- like for once in his life he’s a real part of the world, not some lost foreigner wandering through it.
Deeply intimate sex also feeds a hunger he doesn’t know he has; it satisfies some urge in his programming, his purpose as a Grimoire and vessel to mix, merge, become one with another.
Just be careful. Shy as he may come across, Kazuma goes kind of crazy when his emotions heat up.
HOUICHIRO = HAZUKI ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆
“Who?” you ask? For those of you who have read Remix or Variable Heart, you may add “why” or “what the fuck”?
Listen. Look me in my eyes. I know what I’m doing.
The Hazuki family has, since its inception, been the strongest of the Duodecim. They have held onto this title as the generations passed and the other families grew weak by mercilessly snuffing out every shred of vulnerability within their heirs. To be the head of the Hazuki family, one must be a perfect soldier- a perfect weapon. There is no room for emotion. There is no room for love.
But let’s be honest. Nothing can truly kill the human heart. Suffocating our feelings only makes them more desperate. Clumsier, hungrier, needier.
Houichiro is a man so full of tender words he will never be able to say that he could choke to death on them. The one thing he wants more than anything is for his next life to be a normal one, where he can love with no filter and put those he cares about above anything else. But that is not the life he is living now. So what more powerful expression is there, for all that pent up desire for connection, than this?
The day where he will be able to tell you how much he loves you will never come. So in this moment, as he holds you as tenderly as his strength allows, in this moment alone, he prays you can somehow feel it.
#iron tager#x reader#hakumen#kazuma kval#houichiro hazuki#romantic#not safe for tumblr#some unconventional picks on this one#trust my wisdom
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Maka Albarn had just got done training with her friend, trusted companion, and occasional lover Soul Eater Evans. Soul was great when it came to being used as a weapon, but the boy was completely lacking in pretty much any other field.
"I'm telling you, he's got maybe 3 inches on him." Maka said to her father, Spirit, as she nuzzled againat him. "He really doesn't please me. I've gotten off with Blair before, that's the only way i know what it feels like." She had an irritated look on her face.
"Not many men can measure up to your papa~" Spirit moaned while stroking his daughters hair.
"Pfft." Maka scoffed. "I wanna slug you, but you're right. I expected every guy to have a cock as big as you when i was growing up, but i've yet to find anybody else who can even pack 6 inches." Maka felt up her father's crotch.
"Now you know why your mother stayed with me for so long, even after the way i treated her." Spirit laughed, but Maka didn't find that comment very funny. She tightened her grip on his cock, reminding him that she could crush his balls at any time.
"She probably knew you were the type of guy to fuck your own daughter the whole time." Maka said, wistfully, but with anger in her voice.
"Guilty as charged." Spirit whispered into Maka's ear. "But you know you love it."
"I love this cock, not the man it's attatched to." Maka glared at him further, Spirit could tell that she wasn't here to cuddle.
"Alright, alright, let's get on with it then." Spirit unzipped his pants and slowly slipped them off. "Start sucking". He commanded Maka. His cock being present representing his authority.
"Hmph." Maka pouted, but she accepted his order nontheless. She slipped his boxer briefs off and unleashed his cock onto the world. "Fuck." She whispered as she saw that trouser snake. Did it get bigger? She couldn't tell, it always looked massive. Fitting it in her mouth never got easier, which meant that it never got any less rewarding either
Maka washed the foul taste of Soul's tongue out of her mouth with Spirit's junk. His cock head was as red as his hair. Maka was an expert cocksucker, going down on him like a vaccum cleaner as soon as she got the chance, he loved the feeling of her warm spit on his balls.
"Kiss me." Spirit ordered, Maka ignored him, continuing to go down on his dick. He decided not to push it. His daughter was terrible at setting the mood, but she was great when it came to just straight up sucking.
Eventually he busted in her mouth, letting loose a spray of white goop that oozed out of her nose as she gagged and cum sputtered out of her mouth.
"Warn me next time!" Maka said as she smashed her fist into Spirit's thigh, taking great care to avoid his scrotum. He still reeled in pain from it. As much as he hated being hit by her, he still loved messing around with his daughter.
"Let's..." Spirit was disoriented from the agony of that punch. "Let's go for a mating press now.."
"Sounds good." Maka got on her back and held her legs up in the air with her hands. "Just stick it in whenever."
"Will do!" Spirit responded as he instantly dove face first into Maka's cunt. His cock pierced her without a moment of delay. A wave of energy coursed through her body, as if she had just felt a monumental chill. Spirit's cock always made her feel like this.
It only took a few moments of thrusting for him to dump one of his thickest loads so far straight into her cunt. "Fuck Me!" Maka screamed out while she squirted all over Spirit's schlong. He kept thrusting even after they had both cum just to hear his little girl's cute little moans.
Spirit rolled off of her and over to the side of the bed next to her. "Was it this good with mom?" She asked. "No." Spirit replied. "Your mother was never as good as you."
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The Legend of Zelda: Real Courage | Chapter One: The Trial
[I caved and got a Tumblr. Also available at: https://linktr.ee/laxyaklovesloz]
Master Post
“Gear up! Shadow Chieftess Ganondra will be watching your practice today!”
Lila sat up in bed a hair slower than the other women in the barracks. She had never been fond of waking up. It was just one of the many differences that kept her apart from the others. They were all strong, native Gerudo. She was the weak, adopted Hylian. She was smaller than them, too. Even though she was almost fully grown, she was shorter than the average Gerudo woman.
Still, the average Gerudo woman wasn’t anything compared to Shadow Chieftess Ganondra, who was sometimes called the Dragon of the Desert. With the help of the Triforce of Power, Lady Ganondra had grown far stronger than any other person in the tribe. She was a fierce leader who wasn’t afraid of getting her hands dirty to make sure things were done her way. Things were always done her way.
Today, her way was to watch the practice of young warriors. Lila couldn’t help but wonder if the reason had anything to do with herself. Sure, Lila wasn’t a Gerudo woman, but Lady Ganondra treated her as something more. She always pushed Lila to be the best in her class. Lila even had extra fighting lessons while the others learned about subjects such as wooing men and how to make a profitable trade. She learned how to be a spy, how to use various weapons, and even had solo wilderness training. The special treatment was another thing that separated her from her classmates.
Lila could hear the others whispering the same thoughts as they all hurried to put on their gear. Once everyone had dressed, they lined up at the foot of their beds for inspection. The leader, Dalni, scrutinized every little detail, making sure they were all presentable for the Chieftess. They could expect punishment if something was wrong. Running laps for a missing button. Cleaning the bathrooms if they weren’t fully dressed on time. Today, Lila expected Dalni to be extra strict, but no one got called out for anything. Maybe everyone else wanted to look their best for the Dragon of the Desert.
The twelve trainees, Lila included, filed out of their barracks room and to the training ground. On the way, Dalni gave them instructions. They paired off and grabbed their weapons once reaching the training ground. Today, they worked with swords and shields. This was unusual for the Gerudo–spears and scimitars were more common–but Lila was glad for the change. Swords were her best weapon. She and her partner were the first to start practicing the forms.
As usual, time slipped away from Lila’s awareness. All she knew was the blade and her shield. Her heart pulsed in time with her footwork. Lila moved through the forms faster and faster, pushing her partner to the edge of her ability. Knowing what would happen if they fell out of synch, Lila slowed her pace to match her partner’s. It pained her to have to slow down, but it was worth not getting in trouble.
Eventually, they switched to actual combat. Finally, Lila could let loose. Her partner didn’t stand a chance, and she knew it. Lila was a blur of steel. She expertly blocked her opponent’s attacks and quickly parried them with her own. It only took her a few steps to knock her partner to the ground. Each time, her partner became wilder. Lila kept her cool, gaining victory after victory.
She had no idea how much time had passed when Dalni called for a stop. The twelve trainees lined up to face her, panting with the effort of practice.
“Excellent work,” Dalni lauded. “It’s time for lunch. Dismissed.”
The women broke formation and put their weapons away, ready for a hearty meal. Lila swung her sword around a little more, lingering behind. Now that it was break time, she could feel her muscles straining, and she was breathing just as heavily as everyone else. She avoided eye contact with her partner, who was fuming at being stuck with the prodigy. Lila wished she could eat alone, but Dalni didn’t want any of them to leave her sight during breaks. Except to use the bathroom, of course. No, Lila would have to eat at the same table as the rest of her training mates, as always.
“Did you see her?” said someone at the table. At first, Lila thought Trifni was talking about her, but then Sala replied.
“Yes! Can you believe Lady Ganondra herself was actually watching us?”
Lila got her food and sat at the edge of the table. She hadn’t noticed Lady Ganondra watching, or anyone else for that matter.
“She’s so amazing,” Urwa crooned.
“She’s terrifying!” Feli countered.
“That too,” Urwa said, and everyone laughed, except Lila.
Lila was content to be ignored like any other day, but Trifni asked, “Lila, she was watching you the most.”
Lila let that information sink in. The room had gone silent. Everyone was looking at her. She sighed and said, “What do you expect? I’m like her pet. Of course, she was watching me.”
The others nodded and went back to eating. They left her out of the conversation after that.
Lila sighed to herself again as she at her food. She wasn’t a person. She was a pet, and the others agreed. It really didn’t surprise her that Lady Ganondra was watching her. It was what she anticipated, after all. Maybe that’s why they practiced with swords today. She finished her food quickly and tried to prepare herself for what might happen next.
Someone came in and whispered something to Dalni and then left. After everyone finished eating, Dalni addressed them again.
“Lila, a special challenge awaits you,” she said unexpectedly. Everyone swiveled to look at Lila. Dalni continued, “The rest of you will watch from the upper level.”
The room broke into excited whispers.
“That’s where Lady Ganondra was!”
“What kind of challenge?”
“Why does Lila always get special treatment?”
No one spoke to Lila. She stood by herself by the door. After a moment, the whispers got to be too much for her, and she headed out to the training ground. She grabbed a sword and shield and waited, looking up at the upper level. At first, no one was there. Then her comrades filed in to watch what would happen. They still spoke excitedly to one another. Dalni wasn’t with them.
Lila waited for a few minutes, growing impatient. She swung her sword around to help ease the wriggling in her stomach. What was going on? Was she there just to be mocked? Then Lady Ganondra herself appeared on the upper level, a servant close to her side. Lady Ganondra had one other companion with her: a black ball with leathery wings and one yellow eye, known as a keese. Lila’s training mates hushed each other and watched with awe. Likely, they had never been so close to the Shadow Chieftess.
Lady Ganondra glared at the shushing girls across from her, then turned her gaze upon Lila. Lila felt a shiver run through her whole body. Most of her extra training had been supervised by Lady Ganondra’s servant, Nabooru. Lila had never actually been near Lady Ganondra. Now, they were staring eye to eye, and Lila sensed something… well, cold about the Shadow Chieftess. Lila couldn’t help but clench her teeth and gulp. She quickly turned her eyes away and found herself staring at the ground. In fear.
This was the power of the Dragon of the Desert.
Finally, Dalni appeared and approached Lila.
“Are you ready?” Dalni asked, looking nervous for once.
“For what?” Lila questioned.
“You are to fight… Gohma.”
Lila’s mouth dropped. “You mean the giant spider that wanders the desert?”
Dalni nodded. She turned and waved at some unknown persons, and then left to join the other trainees. From the desert, a group of Gerudo women led a large creature toward the training ground. The creature had six sturdy legs, two pincers, and one giant eye. Four horns crowned its body. Lila had heard tales of this creature while growing up. It was said that girls who didn’t obey would be left to the mercy of Gohma. Now Lila had to fight it? She could see the women struggling to keep the creature under control. How was she supposed to fight that thing by herself when several Gerudo women were needed to lead it?
Eventually, the women got Gohma into the training arena and set it free. They took up positions around the arena to keep it from escaping. They used their spears to guide its attention to Lila.
Lila gulped again. “Okay,” she said to herself, “I guess I’m doing this.” She twirled the sword around her hand one more time and raised her shield. Then she yelled, “Attack me, you great beast!”
The creature heeded her words and sprang. Lila jumped to the side, somersaulted, and came up behind the creature, slashing her sword at its rounded back. It squealed in pain and turned around. Her sword didn’t seem to do much damage. She figured she would have to get in close and pierce the eye. That seemed to be the only weak point. But how could she get close enough without getting pinched by the pincers?
Experimentally, Lila waved her sword toward one of the legs. Gohma lifted that leg toward her. Lila quickly raised her shield. The leg came down with so much force that it made her shield quiver and she had to take a couple of steps back. Another leg slammed into her back knocking the air out of her. She fell forward onto the ground. Anticipating another strike, Lila rolled onto her back and kicked up, pushing herself to a standing position. She kept her shield raised and surveyed her situation.
Gohma didn’t give her much time. The creature revealed a new trick by blasting green fire. If Lila didn’t have her shield, she would have been roasted. She braced herself, waiting for the fire to abate. Surely, it couldn’t last forever. After a few seconds, the fire ended, and Lila came in swinging. Her quick move worked as she chopped off part of a leg. The creature howled and stood on its hind legs, the other legs writhing in pain. Lila immediately thrust her sword forward and pierced the belly, drawing a trickle of green ichor. She sliced down and spun out of the way as Gohma came back down. She narrowly avoided getting hit by a leg.
A bout of more flames burned Lila. She lifted her shield, fighting the pain and patting her side to put out the fire. She wondered if her trick would work a second time, cutting off another leg. Or maybe she should try aiming for the eye this time. After the barrage of flames ended, Lila thrust her sword toward the source of the fire, hoping to stab the eye. Her plan worked! Her sword penetrated deep, and the creature crumpled, screaming. Gohma shriveled and shrank, turning pure black. Then the blackness burst into particles and faded away.
A cheer rose from the surrounding onlookers. Lila had forgotten they were there. She was panting with effort and pain, and she was ready to put her sword away. The women who had brought Gohma to the arena swirled around her and raised her on their shoulders. She had never before received such joyous treatment. She held her sword and shield high as they bounced her around in triumph, and a smile broke across her face. Even her training mates were cheering, she saw. Then she remembered that Shadow Chieftess Ganondra had seen the whole thing.
The chieftess held the same expression as before the fight began. There was no evidence that anything spectacular had occurred. Her eyes met Lila’s for a brief moment, and then she turned around to leave, the keese close behind. Nabooru stole a quick glance at Lila before following. Was that worry on her face?
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The way he'd stared . . . the way his eyes lingered upon his frame - no longer with love nor affection, but instead something so full of hate it bled with it - Ballister fights to keep himself standing so tall, back rigid & straight, shoulders squared boldly with his own heart bared. His fists ball together tight, curled in so tight his prosthetic arm creaks faintly beneath the strain, accompanied by the sting in his other hands fingers from how strained the action is. His throat wants to constrict, that thick blockage of emotion swelling to the point he knows he'd doomed to break if he doesn't wall it all off now.
There'd be time to nurture & sooth his poor broken heart another time. But he'd never get that chance if he faltered now. Not with how Ambrosius - Goldenloin, stood before him now, staring him down like he was the scum of the earth, eyes flashing with such vivid, vitriolic disdain, if looks could've killed, Ballister knows he'd have been dead as soon as they'd met his own.
He swallows slowly, brows carefully drawn, expression cast into a harsh expression that weakly mirrors the blonde's own - drowning out the impromptu audience that watched on, crossbows & swords aimed in his direction, daring him to move wrong to justify their thinly restrained want to attack.
His heart thunders beneath the shaky cage of his ribs, a frightened beat, one bearing the starting cracks of heartache as he stares his former friend down & commits to memory the sight of him with his sword & glare drawn on him like just another common threat. Like a monster.
Sure enough, he answers him, the name itself being brought into the open air with all the same grace of a snake's hiss. Like something poisoned, rotten, his lips curl in clear disgust, the flash of perfect teeth peeking in bared anger. His words continue, eerie in the calmness they're shared, the laughter that punctuates his words bearing a hysterical edge, one that only further frustrates him as his frown etches in deeper. Far too many thoughts whirl through his mind, flickering like light, like the flash of a storm, he can only watch on in stunned silence as they collapse, trailing along as the Knight moves to grab at one of the nearest guards weapons, throwing it over with little care.
With little respect.
It's like a slap in the face - to be treated the same as he'd always been by everyone else. He'd never thought Amb . . . Goldenloin would've done the same. Something snaps in him, breaking like melted ice, fragile beneath his heel in thawing spring. Whatever pain he felt thundering away numbs, dulls over enough for him to focus on just surviving this ordeal to recuperate & regather his bearings later. Nothing more then a faint ache, distant in each yearning pang to fix things, his expression hardens, bearing an icy chill that looks out of place on his visage as he steps in slowly, never once breaking contact to pick up the thrown blade. Fingers settle along it'd hilt like an old friend, familiar, falling right into place as he holds his head high without another word.
Moving to put space between the pair, his own form of upset disgust being made clear through the way it trickles, tainting & tinging his expression in the furrow of his brow, the squint of his eyes & the scowl carved into his lips. Before he knows it, they begin.
He does what he does best - Ballister focuses, throwing himself into the fight as much as he can, using the chasm of distance between his withering feelings for the man & his want to survive as fuel to stay sharp, noting how at times, the Institute's Golden Boy would falter, hesitate. Foolish. Stupid. He has half a mind to scold him, to taunt him like old times in reminder to focus lest he become too distracted he loses his life - but it's not his place, not anymore with how their relationship has crumbled. He pours all his anger, his heartache into each strike, pushing Ambrosius into acting defensively as he lashes out in quickened strikes.
The ear-piercing clatter of metal against metal, the crying shriek as they glide along in sparking light - I'M INNOCENT, I'M INNOCENT, I'M INNOCENT - echoing like a plea in the desperation as he sucks in air through burning lungs. With a shove the next time the lock blades, he pushes the taller of the pair a good distance away, watching as the blonde stumbles to right his position, a frustrated hiss leaving himself in response.
"For someone who's been taught to kill monsters all his life - you don't even have the heart to kill one even when it's right in front of you." A low blow. Probably going to end in him getting an arrow to the back at this rate, but he's hurt. He's angry, & for all the patience he'd tried to grant Ambrosius all through the years, through recent events where his life had been all but ripped from his hands - he didn't even have the decency to hear him out, to listen or show him any of the same kindness. For all the time that’d passed . . . For all he thought he’d known him, truly, maybe he never did with how quick he was to turn on him. Fine.
If Goldenloin was so desperate to brand him a monster - he'd strike out as one. Lips curling into a mean sneer, glare garnering a dagger sharp thinness, Ballister readies his blade again, ignoring the sharp tang of blood against the back of his throat.
"Some descendent of Gloreth."

Ambrosius stared down his sword at Ballister. Deep within his chest he carried with him a broken heart. He heard the director’s words, echoing in his head.
‘Ambrosius, I know Ballister was once your friend, maybe even more, but take a look at him now. Take a look at what he’s become. He’s transformed into a monster. If he were left unchecked who knows what harm he could cause.’
‘I’m sorry Ambrosius, but you must put him down, for the good of the Kingdom.’
He stamped down the part of him that told him that this was wrong, the part of his mind that still told him that he loved Ballister. He no longer saw a man standing in front of him.
“Do you think I am going to stand here and listen to the words of a monster?”
Something flickered behind Ambrosius’ angry expression.
Hesitation.
It was only there for a moment before it vanished.
“Remember Ballister? Remember the one thing we were taught to do our entire lives? We were taught to slay monsters. I never thought that it would be you that I would have to turn my sword against, but fate can be cruel like that, I suppose.”
Ambrosius gave a small laugh, it was as empty and hollow as he felt. He moved to one of the knights around him, taking a sword from it’s sheath and tossing it to the ground in front of Ballister.
“I’ll at least make it even.”
He stands in front of Ballister and readies his sword.
“I hope you’ll at least put up a good fight. One last duel before you have to go, right?”
He lunged toward Ballister, slashing at him, letting out a war cry as he did so.
Perhaps deep down he was hoping Ballister would kill him here and put an end to the heartache that felt like shards of glass in his chest.
#╰┈➤ ┊❛ ANSWERED IC. ❜┊#╰┈➤ ┊❛ INTERACTIONS. ❜┊#AMBROSIUS GOLDENLION. / AMBROSIUS GOLDENLOIN.#MUSE: [ BALLISTER BOLDHEART. ]#❝ A city between our hands like a fractured bond. ❞ . [ AMBROSIUS-GOLDENLION ]#╰┈➤ ┊❛ CONTINUED GAME…? / THREAD CONTINUED. ❜┊#*HYPED CAT BONGO*
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Can you do headcannons about Yelena x reader's relationship in general? Little stuff like love languages, dates, how she treats you, etc.
Love Language
Masterlist, Yelena Belova masterlist, latest fic, hit my inbox
When you met Yelena, for you it was all about butterflies in your stomach, for her it was a gut punch.
She knew nothing about real intimacy. Yes, she could imitate with the others, but you were different. She felt it, she knew it.
Yelena didn't want to scare you away, she was afraid to overwhelm you. But she tried to hide her need to punish herself, not allowing to be closer. She was groaning into her pillow, not knowing how to deal with her feelings.
But it didn't work. Yelena was drawn to you. She started stealing your attention, moments, when there were only two of you.
You noticed her accidental touches. Her thumb gently brushing your pulse point, when you were training. Making sure you were OK after a mission with a forehead touch.
Yelena tried to make you believe it was only friendship. But for both of you, being far from each other was becoming more and more painful.
You asked her out on a date. Those were awkward. Yelena was restrained. She was wearing a mask. She behaved the way others always expected to. Yelena didn't know what you expected.
Your hand found hers on the table. Yelena looked in your eyes and she couldn't control tears anymore. Your fingers were intertwined. Both of you were silent. You both were feeling something new running in your blood. Affection suddenly found it's way out.
"I've got you." You looked into her eyes.
She didn't answer, she didn't dare. You were her hope. You were her second chance.
You didn't push. You let her be herself. Gradually she became more relaxed. She herself was initiating closeness. She was holding your hand, kissing your eyes, caressing your back.
Once she even fell asleep on your lap. When she woke up from a nightmare, her first reaction was to run away.
"it's OK." You were whispering. "I will always protect you."
Soon you discovered burden of Yelena's past. Her obsession with not being tracked. The fact that she slept with the knife under her pillow. She always had some kind of weapon on her. Yelena trusted no one. Except for you.
"Maybe it's going to be easier if you just leave me." Her fists were shaking.
"No. I want to be with real you."
You never got tired of reminding her that she was worthy of love.
Yelena was praising you all the time. Always saying that you brought her back to life. You gave her the second chance.
"I'm blessed." She was whispering into her needy kisses.
Yelena needed all of your attention and devotion and in return she gave everything to you.
There were evenings when you didn't even talk. It was enough to be in the arms of each other. There were nights when you didn't sleep. You couldn't get enough of each other. There were days when you couldn't take your eyes off of each other. You were melting into one soul.
*another Yelena fic
#black widow 2021#black widow fic#marvel self insert#yelena belova x reader#yelena belova#yelena belova imagine#yelena belova x you#yelena belova fanfiction#black widow
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death valley (m) | part 8
summary: welcome to death valley. once you’re in, there’s no telling whether you’ll make it out alive. a summer internship turns wild with blurry nights of dangerous men, dirty money, and extremely hot sex. you soon get caught in a savage game of greed, power and obsession, only to find out that you are the grand prize
pairing: ot7 x f.reader smut ft: jin x reader, jungkook x reader, taehyung x reader
genre: smut. yandere. mystery. thriller. gang!au rockstar!au fightclub!au
wordcount: 9.0k
warnings: reader discretion advised. rough sex, physical roughness, sadism kink, pain kink, breast play, fingering, elevator sex (semipublic), praise kink, dirty talk, unrealistic endurance (this is one day LMAO), attempted fire play, bondage, guns, attempted shootings, knife play if you squint, spanking, degradation (name calling, slut shaming, being really mean lolol thanks jin), crying kink? lot of crying, toxic and manipulative behaviors, jin steps on you so there’s that, character death, heavy drug use, paranoia/fear, voyeurism, sex while intoxicated, me trying to put some humor where i can, sweet dom!jungkook, wild dom!jin, and a sprinkle of dom!taehyung ;) ALSO eyebrowpiercing!jungkook. very important.
a/n: s/o soowoozoo!bts for being my inspo.
part 0 | part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9 | part 10 | part 11 | series navi | masterlist |
F L A S H F O R W A R D--
Goosebumps spread across your skin as the silence set in. The room was chilly, air conditioner buzzing in contrast to the slick humidity of the summer night waiting for you outside. The white light made your eyes ache, the walls were plain, dry, empty.
You stared blankly at the table in front of you. The sound of the pen scratching paper made you ache, remembering kinder days when you and Hobi would be goofing around and writing songs. How did you get here? How did you let this happen?
The previous night, you had dreamt of being at a concert, somewhere far from Death Valley. Losing yourself to music and molly, a soft pair of hands on your hips as you danced the night away, singing at the top of your lungs. Those same hands wrapping around your waist, nose tracing behind your ear to whisper to you how pretty you were. How hot you looked and how badly he wanted to tear your clothes off with his teeth.
You allowing him to pick you up so easily, take you back to his car where you scrambled into the back seat. Like children. The first kiss was magic, you were glued to him and could barely move on. He wouldn’t leave you for a second, he wouldn’t let you breathe. Your lips were hot on each other, soft moans and giggles. Swallowed smiles as you drank one another in, bodies like waves crashing against each other.
Hands wandering until he had you where he wanted. Where you wanted. He loved you down so incredibly good. How he was able to tear you apart while still being so sweet, you could barely even fathom. His teeth dug into the flesh of your breasts, fingers hooking around your panties.
His tongue ravished your figure. There was no part of you left untouched, no part of you that wasn’t completely ablaze with arousal. You would arch your neck back as he lapped away at the sweetness dripping between your legs, your hands combing through his wavy black hair.
His tongue knew where to go, he knew how you liked it, and your fist clenched as he fucked you with his mouth through and through. He always made sure you came first. Always. Every single time.
Whether you had mere minutes or long hours, he loved the way you tasted, making sure you knew that at every chance he got. Sloppy wet kisses traveled up your stomach to your chest, up your neck, hands caressing your ass, scratching your back, holding you close for a moment.
You were whisked away into heaven, just briefly, as his thick cock would push into you. Your pussy pulling him in, wanting to feel the familiar but oh so incredible stretch that only he gave you.
Taehyung. You sobbed as he fucked you, allowing him to kiss the glossy tears off of your cheeks as he rolled his hips, angling so perfectly to nudge deep within you. His sinister grin, his giggles, his chaos. You were in the hands of disaster but you never felt more safe.
Why are you crying dumbass? He would find your state amusing, continuing to fuck you, thrusts long and smooth. Quick, but slow enough for you to savor each second. Your whining lost behind the wet sound of your bodies colliding.
Where are you? Are you watching this right now? You’re not really dead are you?
Stroking your cheek, he leaned down to whisper against your mouth. The words he would keep on saying, echoing back to you. Play along. I won’t hurt you.
What exactly you were playing, you were unsure.
“Look at me” Your eyes darted up to meet Jin’s deceivingly innocent eyes. “I’m gonna ask you again, did you kill Kim Taehyung?”
You gulped, sweat collecting onto the cold handcuffs around your wrists. Jin glanced at the mirrored wall, before letting out a heavy sigh.
“It appears that Kim Taehyung was murdered about two hours before the party. We found your gun near the body.” Jin holds up the custom weapon Yoongi had given that was unmistakably yours. “Where were you at that time?” You felt your eyes getting heavy.
“I was” You lips were chapped, mouth clammy with a bitter taste. You looked him dead in the eye, stomach sickened by the amusement glistening within them as you struggled with your response. You knew he was getting a kick out of it. You wanted to spit on his face. You wanted to slap him, to scream, to flip the table and break out of the windowless room that caged you.
“I was with...y..” Jin smirked, leaning back. You cleared your throat, mind running a mile a minute.
“With who Y/n?”
You glared at him. He was treating this as some sort of role play. You felt queasy at the thought. Someone was dead. Dead.
“You. I was with you”
F L A S H B A C K--
The morning rays slid through the expansive glass wall of the hotel room, causing Yoongi’s eyes to flinch, squinting as they opened and took in the day that presented itself. He sighed heavily, the weight of the previous night still on his mind. You were still asleep, but he could see through the chaffing beneath your wrists that you were not comfortable. He took the leash and fastened it to the headboard, ensuring you had no escape.
Grabbing his keys, Yoongi quickly got dressed in a white hoodie and left the room. He needed to find out the truth for himself. He couldn’t afford to have you lying to him already.
It was so frustrating to him that you couldn’t just be honest with him. He had been immensely open with you even if he was not proud of what he had to share. Why would you hide things? Hadn’t he proven himself to you? Hadn’t he done everything to win your heart?
Yoongi sighed. His anger issues were core to his being. It was part of his true self, but he had spent years trying to become someone you would fall in love with. All he wanted to do was make home in your heart, but no matter how many of your suitors he ended up threatening, beating to a pulp, and forcing them to bail on you, there was nothing in his power that could tear down that goddamn Park Jimin poster on your bedroom wall.
There was nothing he could do to stop you from writing small fantasies in your journal that you kept stashed in your bedside drawer.
Yoongi would be lying if he said he didn’t come close to killing Jimin multiple times before. But he realized that would not have delivered him a solution. If Jimin died, you would mourn. You would still harbor that love for him and never have an opportunity to see what he really was. It was because of this Yoongi, with Taehyung’s helpful insight, had orchestrated a way to destroy Jimin in your eyes.
Jimin was then introduced to Yoongi’s two weapons of destruction, Taehyung and cocaine. Yoongi worked hard to build himself up as a successful music producer. He had to be better than Jimin, had to make sure he could offer you everything Jimin could and more.
To his surprise, you did move on from Jimin, at least the reality of him. But this fantasy of who he used to be remained pinned to your heart. After Jimin quit music, the mention of his name would still cause you to blush and smile. It made Yoongi want to throw up.
You had to see for yourself. Yoongi learned what it was that attracted you to Jimin and embodied just that. You liked that you had to chase him, you liked that he didn’t give a shit about you. You liked that he never noticed you and you had to pine for his attention. You liked that he was dedicated to his music, you liked the lifestyle he was associated with. You liked his lack of emotion and fantasized of him showing his true colors to you and only you, a sensitive, sweet, charming guy. Anger was not a part of this persona at all.
When he felt like he had driven Jimin crazy enough with the drugs, he decided to plant rumors on stan twitter that Jimin would be signing with his label. Using his personal relationship with the singer, he was able to sign him on. He conveniently then offered you a summer internship, knowing full well you would be coming for one reason alone. Park Jimin.
Yoongi wanted you to fall straight into his arms. He rented out every available apartment for the months you were searching for a place to live, forcing you to reside in his building. He wanted to win you over naturally. He wanted you to work with Jimin, hook up with Jimin, and end up loathing him. Loving Yoongi instead.
Jimin’s gang activity was getting on Yoongi’s nerves. Taehyung told him Jimin was in Death Valley, that you saw Jimin at Death Valley. When Yoongi heard from you, not Taehyung, that you had been kidnapped, along with Namjoon nonetheless, Yoongi had enough. He was used to giving Taehyung plenty of unsupervised jurisdiction, so Jimin’s accident was not a surprise to him.
But you sympathized with Jimin, which was not what he wanted. He then decided to take things into his own hands, threatening Seokjin into throwing the fight to leech Jimin of every cent he had. He broke into your apartment, fucking everything up so that you had no choice but to come to him. To need him.
And when Jin didn’t lose, he had no choice but to reveal to you who he was. Even after all his honestly, all his trust, you still lied to him.
Yoongi was furious. He arrived at Death Valley, using the front entrance. Pulling a mask over his face, he barged in, surveying the silence as a sign that the bar was empty. Through the kitchen he arrive at the back storage room, accessible only by key, where all of the surveillance had been set up years ago.
Monitors were spread across the wall, but Yoongi’s eyes narrowed in at one that was coming up with no feed. Your apartment. Someone had fucked with the cameras. Yoongi types away at the main monitor, enlarging your apartment footage and reeling back to find the moment the device was destroyed.
He sees Taehyung, whispering something to you. Next thing he knows the stream is blank. He grits his teeth, as all the pieces fall into place. He was a fool. How could he have been so blind? Taehyung must be in love with you. He must have, after watching you for so many years. Yoongi scowled at the thought of the ways Taehyung may have seen you, naked, vulnerable, ways that only he should.
He had trusted Taehyung. Taehyung had only ever shown interest in money and Yoongi thought that was enough. Taehyung must have fucked you over and over again once the cameras were dead. What a whore. It made sense then that he had cut the line through his branding on you. He was the only one who could have. He had access to you and he was psychotic! He must have forced you to lie. You wouldn’t ever hide anything from Yoongi, no, Yoongi was the man of your dreams. You felt grateful that you had him, didn’t you?
He tilted his head, cracking his knuckles before he punched the glass screen, causing the feed to go haywire and sparks to erupt. Kim Taehyung. You are dead to me.
Yoongi growled lowly before picking up his phone. “It’s me. I need to see you. Now”
-
Hobi kept his hand on the small of your back as he led you down to the hotel bar. The two of you nodded politely at the staff members who were busily preparing for the big event. The bar was empty aside for a few guests enjoying their brunch-time mimosas.
Hobi couldn’t really revel in the fact that the two of you were getting drinks together, almost like a date. His mind was too caught up in the initial shock he felt when he saw you tied up in his boss’ bedroom. He felt upset, but moreso he felt violated. He wondered if you were getting taken advantage of. Did he promise you a promotion? Was he manipulating you?
Punishing someone like that, Hobi was never one to kink shame, but it seemed a bit much. The name burned into your skin did nothing to ease his concern. Someone who was possessive, violent, impulsive. It reminded him of...
Hobi didn’t know. He didn’t know who gave him orders. He really didn’t care once the cash rolled in, but it began hitting too close to home. He wasn’t thrilled about hurting Namjoon, but two duffel bags of cash were enough for him to momentarily set aside his morals.
“What should I get?” You surveyed the small menu of cocktails. “What’s gonna fuck me up the fastest?”
Hobi snorted, “Tequila” He twirled your hair as your gaze remained glued to the menu. The thought of you being in danger upset him greatly “Y/n...when did Yoongi brand you?" You called the bartender ordering a line of shots to which the they glanced at the clock before giving you a weird look.
“The night of the rematch” You told him, reacting before you realized what you had said. Your lip tucked between your teeth as you tried to conjure an excuse. A row of shot glasses was placed in front of you. You took one, gulping it down before letting out a heavy sigh. The bitterness burned down your throat. You basked as the liquid hit your mind, easing you slightly.
“Yoongi was at the fight?” Hobi recalled the wild night that the three of you had been at Death Valley. It was the first time he ever saw the man giving him orders. The man was tall, broad, had dark hair and wore dark clothes, face covered in a mask. Could it have been...Yoongi?
“Y/n!” The two of you turned to see Jungkook approaching the bar. He had changed his hair, the blue swapped for a short black cut, and you couldn’t help but double take at his new eyebrow piercing.
You downed another shot, glancing at Hobi who had raised his eyebrows seeing the drug dealer. Jungkook gave you a light hug, waving timidly to Hobi. You smirked, another shot down the hatch. “Easyyyy Y/n” He placed a hand on your back as he slid into the seat next to you.
“The fuck are you doing here?” Hobi sneered. Jungkook rolled his eyes, used to the condescending treatment of gang members. "Didn’t you get stabbed or something?”
“I did!” Jungkook grinned, “In fact, that’s exactly why I’m here. I think I figured out who Mr. Bossman is, and I wanna fucking kill him”
Hobi rolled his eyes, “Oh really”
“Kim Seok-motherfucking-Jin baby. He stabbed me. He’s the one who showed up and threatened me to move out of Y/n’s apartment, so he’s probably also the one who called for the kidnapping. And he might have called for Jimin’s accident. It makes so much fucking sense”
Jin did what? There was not enough alcohol in your veins to act like you didn’t fully understand what he had just said. Jin had Jungkook move out? It wasn’t impossible. And that’s what scared you. You blinked at Jungkook incredulously, “But he’s literally a police officer”
Jungkook’s grin widened, “Exactly! It’s fucking brilliant. He’s a cop, he fights for the other side. He wins no matter what and can never get caught. No one would ever suspect him. Winning despite being threatened? Who threatened him huh? It’s a fucking ploy. You’re not dead and neither is he I bet. Kingpin. Boom”
You felt sick, knowing that Yoongi was not the only person you needed to be worried about. It was almost funny how blatantly misinformed Jungkook was. “Wow you guys are idiots.” You muttered under your breath, taking another shot before coughing roughly. Should I tell them? Why did Jin lie? Is this even the truth? Jin always tried to pin things on Jungkook, but you defended him. Hearing his words now made your head spin. He’s lying. Jungkook is lying. You wanted to scream, frustration flooding through your veins as you clenched your fists.
“I’m gonna tell Jimin and Taehyung what I know. They will give me so much money dude.” Jungkook chuckled, “And then they’d kill him, oh God finally”
Hobi pursed his lips, mouth feeling dry as he reflected on Jin’s eerie words before he shot him in the leg. He didn’t know where Jin was anymore, handing him off to be taken somewhere. It didn’t make sense. His orders were to seize Jin if Jin won the fight. Why place an order like that all? Why do any of this?
“Y/n, come with me.” Jungkook tugged at the sleeve of the oversized Nirvana shirt you had thrown on after your shower session with Hobi. You giggled, the thought of Taehyung coming into your slowed thoughts like a hurricane, tearing up any understanding you thought you had of the situation. There was only one thing you believed. Only one thing you knew with full certainty and it was all you could hold onto.
“Oh my goodness it’s Yoongi. It’s Yoongi. It’s always been Yoongi” The words spilled from your lips like the tequila that dripped down the side of your lips as you took yet another shot, giggling like a ditz. Jungkook and Hobi exchanged confused looks with each other, only making you laugh more. “I would fucking know okay!” Your laughs grew loud, “I was locked up in his fucking apartment and where the hell were all of you huh? Dumb fucking idiots!” You buckled over, laughing into Jungkook’s chest.
“Jungkook” Hobi sighed, “I gotta get back to work. Can you get her sober please?” Jungkook nodded. He held your waist tightly helping you stand, walking with you carefully to the hotel elevator.
The laughter wouldn’t stop. Passerbys shot the two of you dirty looks as Jungkook pulled you into the elevator easily. Through it’s glass walls you could see the midday skyline, where outside people hustled through life as if everything were normal. Must be fucking nice. “Y/n” Your laughs began to choke in your throat, turning instead to the sobs you tried to suppress with whatever will you had left.
Jungkook placed his soft lips on your shoulder. Hands sliding onto your waist as he peered at you curiously, “Y/n, is everything okay?”
You shook your head, the elevator door closed as tears began forming in your eyes. Your voice croaked, “I’m dead. He’s gonna kill me. T..taehyung is gonna kill me. I...I know he will. He’s everywhere. Everywhere.” You looked around frantically, suddenly feeling hyperaware of the security cameras littered throughout the public space. “I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone...I” You hiccuped. Jungkook pulled you into a tight hug.
“It’s okay ssh” He stroked his thumbs them across your cheeks, cupping your face affectionately. “I’m here aren’t I?” You sniffled, nodding lightly. “I got you okay. No one is gonna hurt you”
You stared into his kind brown eyes. You did not trust him, your entire body was screaming at you not to trust him. His fingers danced down your figure, freely gliding over your heaving chest, desperately trying to breathe with the fear that choked you from within.
You blinked at him, eyes glancing down at his pouty lips before finding his eyes again. “Y/n” Jungkook whispered, barely inches from your lips. “I won’t let anyone hurt you okay. I promise”
Fat tears rolled down your face at his words. Jungkook clicked his tongue, cooing at you as he continued to wipe away your hears. “Oh you poor thing” He held you to his chest, kissing the top of your head, before tilting your face up to his.
He leaned in, eyes fluttering shut as his lips landed on yours, swallowing you into him. The taste of tequila was evident on your lips as he kissed you softly, and you allowed yourself to surrender to his warm touch.
You felt heat pooling in your chest as his fingers trailed up your legs. He traced circles into the inside of your thighs, letting his fingers tease the edge of your shorts.
“Jungkook” You inhaled sharply, his hot breath tickling your neck as you tilted your head back. He licked his lips before sloppily latching onto your collarbone, sucking down to litter your skin with wet kisses as his fingers slid down your shorts, just barely so that he could roll his hips into you.
He pushed you back against the glass, fingers trailing across your bare thighs before sliding beneath your panties. Jungkook ran a finger over your clothed folds, making you clench down.
“Y/n” His voice sounded equally as desperate as yours, barely audible over the sound of his heavy breathing. “Fuck I missed you” You gasped as his fingers slid under the fabric. He pushed a finger in, allowing your tight cunt to accustom to it before adding another finger not long after.
His other hand slid beneath your shirt, pushing your bra up so he could run his thumb over your nipples, his touch featherlight, leaving you breathless. You rolled your eyes back in pleasure, bucking your hips up as he slowly pumped you with his fingers.
“That’s it baby, just like that” He whispered, lips pressing into your neck. You let out a shaky moan as his fingers quickened, pumping in and out of you as you latched onto his shoulders. “Look at me. Look right at me baby”
He brought his lips over yours, just brushing them across your skin so he could gaze deep into your eyes as you fucked yourself onto his fingers. You cried out his name as the friction began to overwhelm you. His fingers easing you right where you needed them, pleasure searing through you as he watched your every move.
"So good for me” He pulled his fingers out, doused in your sticky arousal before he placed them into his own mouth. Your eyes widen as he licked of every last bit of you and smiles. “You taste so fucking good baby”
He kisses you again, harsher this time as his hips roll against you. Your fingers grip his hair as he pulls down his sweats, allowing his cock to spring out.
“You want my cock?” He ran his tongue over your lips, tugging at them slightly as he stroked his cock. You could feel his hand moving between your legs. “You want my big cock in your little pussy?”
You gulped, nodding as Jungkook looked down, lining his tip against your folds, pushing in only slightly before meeting your eyes again. “So warm and wet for me, fuck” He pushed in further, groaning as you spread your thighs wider, allowing him to thrust as deep as he could. He stilled briefly, kissing you again “You take me so well baby fuck. So fucking tight for me. My pretty baby” He stroked your face, thumb pushing into your mouth slightly.
“Does it feel good?” He mumbled, pulling out just slightly before rolling his hips back into you. He picked up a rhythm, fucking you deep and slow, hands clawing at your breasts.
“Yeah...feels really good” Your eyes fell shut, enjoying the fulfilling pleasure of his movements. He pulled your shirt up, burying his face between your breasts as he continued to fuck up into you.
“Mmm yeah I bet” He pushed your bra up, allowing his fingers to pinch you nipples. He took one into his mouth, wrapping his tongue around the small bud as he began to suckle you, looking up to your face and enjoying your reactions. “You’re so fucking pretty you know that right?” He sucked on your breast harshly before leaving it with a soft kiss and moving onto the other. “So perfect for me”
His thrusts quickened, driving you up the wall as his hands fell to your hips. You burying your face in the crook of his neck as you felt your high approaching. “Jungkook...I’m...”
“Yeah?” Jungkook’s voice was raspy with lust, “You wanna cum baby? Cum for me baby, cum all over my cock, wanna hear you make those pretty little moans when you cum”
You cried out with every thrust as he pushed you over the edge, and you felt your pussy burst with pleasure as you came, the sloppy sounds of your arousal echoing through the small space. Jungkook groaned as the hot liquid covered his cock, allowing him to slide in and out of you with ease.
“There you go. Good girl. Good fucking girl, just like that” He gasped, feeling his cock twitch slightly, buried deep in your cunt, “Want me to cum inside you baby?” You nodded, whining slightly, “Yeah? You want it baby? Huh?” Jungkook’s hips thrust furiously at you, and he cupped your face, bringing his forehead against yours so he could look into your eyes as he came. “Want my cum? Want me to fill you up baby?”
“Yeah. I want it. Jungkook please,” Your whiny voice was enough to have him spurting through you.
“Holy fuck” Jungkook buckled over, holding you tight as cum shot out of him, filling you up and leaking out onto the floor.
He pulled out of you quickly, pulling up his sweats while you fixed your own clothes. Sweat painted his forehead as he looked at you, panting with a big smile on his cute face.
“I missed that” He confessed, pulling you back into him by the waist. He knelt down and pressed his lips on yours, letting his hands slide to your ass and squeeze them softly.
You heard a familiar ring as the elevator door reached it’s destination. You jumped away from Jungkook, unable to get far as the strong boy’s hold on you remained steady.
"I see stabbing you once didn’t really drive home the message huh Mr. Jeon Jungkook”
You felt goosebumps spread as you heard the sinister tone of Jin’s voice. He stood leaning against the elevator as if he had been waiting for you, twirling his knife around aimlessly between his fingers. “Too bad, I unfortunately can’t kill you yet” He turned to you and winked, “Both of you come with me”
-
Sweat trickled down from Namjoon’s neck, his eyes glued to the tattered punching bag in front of him. His muscles were still sore, bruises still spattered across his bare chest. He didn’t care. He was sick of feeling helpless. Under the dim lights of the boxing gym, he pushed himself, another hit, more force, ignoring the pain shooting through his limbs with every strike.
“Don’t overdo it” Namjoon rolled his eyes at the sound of the familiar voice. “Last thing you want is to get injured again” He turned to the sound of loafers echoing across the concrete floor.
“What do you want Yoongi?” Namjoon sneered. The producer smirked slightly, patting the punching bag playfully before pacing around Namjoon.
“I’m gonna kill Taehyung, and I know Jimin is gonna break hell. I need you to protect Y/n for me. Can I trust you, Namjoon?” His voice was stern.
“Man, fuck you Yoongi” Namjoon groaned, “I put my life on the line for you constantly and you still have to fucking ask? Promise me. I want out after this. Promise me a record deal”
Yoongi shrugged, “Okay fine. I’ll sign you. Don’t let her out of your sight.” Yoongi inhaled sharply, “And I swear to God Namjoon if you even think about touching her, you’re dead to me. And I will know if you do.”
Namjoon rolled his eyes, lips parted, desperately trying to catch his breath. “Yeah okay. Just get me my fucking record deal”
Yoongi pursed his lips, pulling out his phone and handing it to Namjoon. “Paperwork is ready. You have one job. Don’t fuck up again” Namjoon clenched his fist as Yoongi chuckled in amusement. “I have some business I need to deal with personally. Keep her safe Namjoon, please”
-
You gagged, a puke-ish feeling clogging your throat as you coughed out. Your head was throbbing with pain as you squinted against the gleaming lights from the chandelier above your head. Glancing around, you realized you were back at Jungkook’s place, large dark wooden floors adding to the ambiance that just screamed rich in your face. The plushness of his large bed evident beneath you.
You get up slightly, peering across the room where you see Jin handing a large duffel bag to Jungkook, whispering something into his ear. Jungkook nods eagerly, shaking Jin’s hand before exiting. He turns back to you, smiling as he realizes you are awake.
“Hey party girl. Recovered from our little day drinking session have we?” Jin chuckled. You scowl, searching around you as your throat desperately demanded water. Jin handed you a glass. “I just got Jungkook caught up, but you and I need to have a little talk”
You exhaled before emptying the entire glass down your throat. “I know everything” You scoffed in spite, “I know everything you did, you fucking maniac”
Jin smiled wide at the term, “I know. Jungkook told me you think I was behind all of the stuff that’s been going on, stabbing him and kidnapping you. I mean,” Jin laughed, a tinge of condescendence in his voice, “You don’t actually believe that do you? Like, seriously how dumb are these guys. At least you’re smart”
You frowned at his tone, unsure of how to respond. Jin raised his eyebrows at your silence before continuing, “Oh come on Y/n. Use that little brain of yours hm? What the hell would I be gaining from all this? It was Taehyung.”
He extended you a hand, helping you out of the bed and pulling you up to stand before him, “What did he tell you huh? That he’s Yoongi’s friend or some shit? Taehyung doesn’t give a fuck about Yoongi. And I know you know about him screwing over Jimin. He’s trying to take over both gangs, not just Jimin’s, and he’s been lying to you this whole time.”
The bargaining chip. “What do you mean?” You followed the flat echoes of his footsteps down the hallway into the same office that you had Jimin tied up only a few days ago. You suppressed a smile as you noticed the curtains were still torn.
“He’s distracting Jimin and Yoongi with you. He wants them to get up against each other so that he can sway the gang loyalties towards him by showing that their leaders priorities are off. Look here” Jin motioned towards a laptop on the large desk, playing security footage of what appeared to be Death Valley’s parking lot, where people were loading bags of cash into what could have been Taehyung’s car. “He’s robbing them. And you know what else Y/n? When he’s done with all of this, he’s gonna kill them both.”
No. No way. Betrayal stung you as you process Jin’s words, “You’re just a pawn in his game. You were bait. He just needed to you get Jimin and Yoongi to fight amongst each other. And you let him, didn’t you?” Jin chuckled, patting your cheek. “I know he kept telling you that you could trust him. That he wouldn’t hurt you. It was bullshit Y/n. This man only cares about one thing. Himself”
You thought back to the first night you laid your eyes on him, back when his hair was a faded green, his sweaty tan skin contrasting his dark leather jacket. The look of familiarity in his eyes and the gleam from his diamond studded watch. You were a fool. He strung you along.
“Where is he?” You growled, “I wanna hear it from him. I wanna ask him myself”
“Absolutely. In fact, if you’re up for it, I was wondering if you would be down to do another little mission for me” Jin winked at you. You scowled, folding your arms over your chest, “If we don’t kill him first, he’s planning on killing Yoongi tonight before the party. I know because I got him to let me in on his little coup” Your heart dropped, “You don’t want that do you?”
"No” You blurted.
“So let’s kill him first. Come on, let’s go get you dolled up for this party”
As you left the office, you couldn’t help but notice a familiar figure standing at the other end of the hallway.
Namjoon? Your eyes locked with his. He pressed a finger to his lips before pointing at Jin and shaking his head. What is he trying to say. Namjoon seemed to have a warning look in his eyes. You simply shrugged at him, before running down the hall to catch up with Jin.
Namjoon exhaled, watching from a window as Jin and you drove off, likely heading to the hotel. Looking at his palm he saw the way his nails left imprints in his skin from how hard he was clenching his fists. Namjoon wasn’t necessarily a fan of Taehyung, but he knew a thing or two about him from Yoongi. Taehyung would never kill people. He was averse to it for some reason, Namjoon always thought it was ironic for him to be a gangster given that quality. Taehyung could torture anyone, threaten anyone, but he didn’t have it in him to take a life.
Which meant that Jin was lying to you. Namjoon never liked Jin. Even aside from all the hits he had taken from the strong man, he always felt something was off about the guy. He feels uneasy about what he had just seen transpire, and decided to go find Yoongi.
-
“Do you want some coke?” You were in the middle of washing your face when Jin walked in with a bag of powder. “I could use a hit, I don’t know about you”
“Oh hell yes. Thank you” He poured out a line on the bathroom counter using a quarter, watching with a small chuckle as you inhaled the drug, nose pressed against the cool marble. You sighed, wiping your nose and flashing a big grin in the mirror “Damn. I needed that. I didn’t know that you use”
Jin bit back a smirk, “I do.” He poured another line on the same place, this time taking a hit himself. “A lot”
“Oh. Officer Jin is a druggie like the rest of us huh” You teased. Jin poured himself a gin martini, taking a sip, eyes alight with amusement. “Does that turn you on ever? Do you ever have a hottie cuffed up and they’re like please Officer does that..you know..turn you on?”
Jin’s eyes widened at you “Not any hottie, no. Now if I had you cuffed up saying that” He chuckled, pulling you to him by the waist “That’s a whole other story” You pushed him away playfully.
“What?” Jin said mockingly, “Don’t remember that night where I gave you the best orgasm of your life?” His traced his lips up your jaw, and you could feel his smile against you.
“Wow. Cocky are we?” You raised your eyebrows. “I’ve had some pretty good sex in my life. Hard to say if that was the best”
Suddenly, Jin pulled his knife from his back pocket, glancing in the mirror as he traced the blade across your neck just enough for you to feel the sharp cold metal glide on your skin, pinching without actually making you bleed. “Don’t even lie. You loved fucking me. Don’t you remember? How fucking wet you were?” His breath was hot against your lips, but it was the look in his eyes that had you weak in the knees.
Taking his knife, he slit clean down your shirt, tearing it off of you to reveal your bare chest. “On the floor slut” His whispered, flirty demeanor now shifted into something dark. Something feral.
You gulped, taking care to slide your bottoms off, not wanting him to slice them up before lowering yourself down onto the tiled bathroom floor.
Jin set the knife aside, pulling out his lighter and setting in on the counter before shedding his own clothes, even he kicking off his shoes. He lifted his foot, and you watched with a curious gaze as he placed his foot on your chest. He kept the weight off of you, much to your relief, and you couldn’t help but feel absolutely filthy as he rolled your breasts under the sole of his foot. You had never done anything like this. It seemed so dirty, but felt so good.
“Oh my god Jin” You gasped as he switched onto his other leg, taking his foot and shoving it into your mouth, watching in amusement as you gagged over his toes.
“Look at you. On the fucking floor. Naked little whore. Letting me do whatever I fucking want.” He removed his foot from your mouth, letting you catch your breath before you looked up at him with quivering eyes.
He felt blood rush to his cock at your expression. Licking his lips, knelt down, climbing over you to gently trail his fingers where his foot had been moments ago.
“And you love it” He sneered, letting his nails dig into your breast, “You love the pain don’t you you fucking slut?” When you didn’t answer he grabbed your jaw, pushing his fingers into the edge of your mouth. “I asked you a fucking question”
“Y...yes” You exhaled. You felt his fingers tease your clit, teeth tugging on your lobe as he laughed darkly.
Jin reached for the martini glass “Turn over” He growled. You found yourself with your breasts pressed flat against the floor, Jin’s cock pressing into your ass. You gasped as he poured the drink onto your back. “This is gonna burn. And you’re gonna take it like a good girl. I know you are, you let Yoongi do it so I can too”
“Wait what” Jin pressed your face down with one hand while the other grabbed his lighter, “Jin. Hold on.” Your voice rose in fear, which only turned Jin on more. He watched as you writhed under him, trying desperately to get away. “Jin seriously. That’s not funny”
“Shhh. You can take it” He cooed, flicking the flame on he slowly lowered it to your skin, bringing it nearer and nearer to the doused skin. You yelped as you began to feel the concentrated heat. Your entire body was petrified. “Enjoy it baby. You like it. You love it. You let Yoongi do it so why can’t I?”
“Jin. It’s not you, I'm just not ready for something like this please” Jin cocked his head aside in irritation, stopping the lighter before it actually touched you and tossing it aside. “I didn’t let Yoongi brand me he just did.”
Jin stilled momentarily. “And you still love him? Even though he did that?”
You didn’t answer. That alone was enough for Jin to rage. He slammed your face back down, the blow giving you a dizzying sensation that hat you getting wetter by the second.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” He growled, “How can you love someone like that?” He pulled your face up, bending you back until you were flush against his chest. “I don’t want any of them touching you again. You understand me?” He let go, giving you whiplash as you fell back to the floor. “Ass up. Now” He spanked your ass hard, causing you to yelp. The stinging pain vibrated to your core. You couldn’t help but love every second of it.
Jin knew that you were scared of him, he could feel it. He could also see the way your thighs would clench whenever he did anything to you. You were his favorite drug. He was going to ruin you.
He grabbed his belt from the pile of clothes on the side, “Hands under” He demanded, rolling his lip through his teeth as you obeyed him right away. He took the belt tying your wrists to your knees under you.
He took a moment to admire his work, your shivering body all his for the taking. You had no where to run. He had you now. “Who gives it to you the best him?” Pulling you towards him by your thighs, he didn’t care that your knees would burn against the smooth tile as he lined his cock up with your folds. He spat down, a glob of saliva landing on your ass before he used his cock head to rub it all over you. He could hear your shaky breath, your whiny moans that made him want to fuck you even more.
He slapped his palm onto the curve of your ass, bending over your to growl into your ear “Filthy whore. You disgust me. You let them all just do whatever they want to you, don’t you have any fucking self respect?” He could see his words were hitting close to home. You pursed your trembling lips as Jin smacked you again in the same place.
“When will you fucking learn huh? This pussy” He reached his hand to harshly cup your cunt, shoving two fingers inside you without warning. “This pussy belongs to me. You’re mine. My cockslut whore” Taking his fingers out, he shoved them into your mouth “You taste that? That how desperate your needy little cunt is for me”
Your legs were strung together, making it all the more painful when he finally began to push his cock inside you, using his fingers to scissor you open so that he could get deep inside you. His length pushed against your tight walls, your cries and curses only motivating Jin to push further.
“Who owns this cunt huh?” Jin pulled your hips back, burning your knees each time as he pulled you on and off his cock. Your ass slammed into him with each blow.
“You do. Holy fuck, you do” You gasped, practically screaming as your whole body ached with pain and pleasure.
“That’s right baby” He pinched your clit, making you yelp as he flicked at it, pounding into your relentlessly.
“J..Jin” You mumbled, lips still half pressed on the floor, “Jin please. Feels good” Jin scoffed, “Gonna cum...gonna cum” You inhaled loudly as you felt your high approaching. Your eyes clenched shut as he edged you closer and closer, fingers furiously attacking your clit until he stopped.
You let out a loud sob as Jin yanked you up by your neck “You really thought I would let you cum whore?” His grip tightened, cock twitching at the way your voice sounded choking, the water streaming from your eyes and the drool at the edge of your lips. He kissed you, licking it all up in the process.
“Look in the mirror. Look at how pathetic you are. I want you to remember the only person who’s ever gonna let you feel this good” You looked at your reflection, seeing only your faces and the way Jin’s nails dug into your neck. He pushed you forward so that your chin was on the countertop. You coughed out, watching as he resumed his thrusts, punishing your clit with the jarring movements of his fingers.
You screamed, pleasure crashing over you in a wave of tantalizing heat. You gushed onto his cock, tears falling from your eyes due to how overwhelming the sensation was. Jin continued to whisper filth right into your ears but you could no longer hear anything. Your vision became hazy, not minding the blow when Jin shoved you back onto the floor and pounded you to his own release.
On the other side of the wall, Namjoon leaned his head back and sighed, glancing down to see his cock in his hands, now completely covered in cum.
-
Taehyung chewed on his gum nonchalantly as he paced around the luxurious hotel, checking out all the fun features. The pool deck was nice, the lobby exquisite, and his favorite part, the cafe, smelt delicious.
Yoongi had asked to meet him in his suite. On his way there he ran into you, and you knocked his breath away. He always thought you were beautiful, but tonight you looked elegant. It was such a surprising contrast to your usual getup, but you looked amazing. He was about to tell you just that when he finally registered the hurt look in your eyes.
“You liar” You slapped him with everything you had. Taehyung backed away in surprise. “How could you use me like that? Over and over again. I trusted you. You were really the only one I thought had my back. Without a fucking doubt” You lunged towards him for another hit but Taehyung held your wrist firmly.
“What are you talking about? When did I use you?” Taehyung looked around frantically, “Calm down okay, let’s go somewhere and talk this through.” Your eyes flared in anger.
“Don’t fucking tell me to calm down! You’re gonna kill them!” You screamed. Taehyung squinted, noticing the slight redness in your eyes. He sighed in understanding, pulling you by the wrist into a corridor.
“Y/n. Breathe. Tell me what’s going on” Taehyung attempted to calm you down but you were enraged. “And what the fuck are you on?”
Admittedly, you and Jin had ended up doing many more lines of coke, perhaps even molly, you were no longer sure, but you washed it down with the bottle of gin, finding it unprecedentedly hilarious that Jin liked to drink gin martinis.
“You used me! To fuck with Jimin! And Yoongi! You lied to me! Everything you said was a fucking lie, everything you did, every stupid word that came out of your stupid mouth was a lie! You just want power. You’re selfish, and...and...you’re gonna KILL them” A dramatic gasp left your lips, Taehyung almost laughed, “You’re gonna kill Yoongi. I...I can’t let you do that”
You pulled out your gun, cocking it and pressing it against Taehyung’s chest. He instantly put his hands up. “Y/n. Y/n stop. That’s not true okay you’re not thinking straight. Don’t do something you’ll regret”
Your hands trembled around the gun “You’ll kill them. You’ll kill them both...I can’t let you do that”
“Hold on!”
Too late. You pulled the trigger.
-
Hobi wandered through the parking lot looking for his car. His eyes narrowed on a familiar vehicle, thinking back to when he had loaded the drug money from the last fight.
So. Is that guy Yoongi then? The one I kept seeing? Hobi wandered over to the car. Peering inside the passenger window, his eyes locked on a small item on the floor of the car. He squinted to read it, it appeared to be some sort of credit card.
He stepped back, realizing what the name on the card was. He glanced around before taking the end of his gun and ramming it into the door handle. The door creaked open, allowing Hobi to swipe the card up. He slid it into his pocket, before hurriedly returning to the hotel.
-
Namjoon’s eyes widened as he watched you pull a gun out on Taehyung. He had been thoroughly entertained as you yelled and slapped him, knowing full well that you were high out of your mind.
Namjoon couldn’t understand Jin’s plan at all. He had eavesdropped on everything so far, as per Yoongi’s orders. Why would Jin ask you to kill Taehyung, why wouldn’t he just do it himself? He knew you would hate yourself if you actually killed him.
He had also been thoroughly disappointed at how easily Jungkook had bought into Jin’s agenda as well. The things people do for money. Namjoon sighed, realizing that he was pretty much acting on similar motivations.
You were ready to pull the trigger, and Namjoon was almost certain you wouldn’t do it, until he saw your finger begin to curl. He ran towards the corridor as fast as he could.
“Hold on!” He yelled, but it was too late. Taehyung’s eyes flew shut.
Namjoon blinked, not hearing the familiar gunshot sound. You looked equally confused, glancing down the barrel of your gun. Taehyung let out a shaky sigh of relief, sliding down the wall.
“It...was a blank” You mumbled. Namjoon rushed to your side, pulling you away from Taehyung. “What the...what was I just about to do?” His heart clenched as your lips parted in shock.
“Taehyung are you okay?” Namjoon asked. Taehyung nodded, clearly shaken up but managing to get a hold of himself.
“What the fuck is going on?” He growled, “Who gave her a gun? And who gave her drugs while she had a gun? Fucking hell”
Namjoon stroked your back as you let the gun drop to the floor, the weight of your actions finally hitting you.
“I’m so sorry. Taehyung I...” You looked into his eyes. Those eyes that always left you questioning what was really going on in that pretty head of his.
“Yeah. Jin fucking fed her some interesting stories about how you’re using her. At least I hope they’re just stories” Namjoon peered at him. “I’m Namjoon by the way, we haven’t officially met”
Taehyung shook his hand “Hi Namjoon. I heard you make pretty decent music” He chuckled ironically, “Y/n, I need you to tell me everything Jin said. There’s been some sort of misunderstanding, I promise you I wasn’t taking advantage of you.”
Namjoon made a face, exchanging a glance with you as you nodded slowly. Namjoon was not entirely sure he should believe Taehyung. He supposed it wouldn’t matter, when he knew that Yoongi was planning to kill Taehyung anyways. The more information he had, the better he could at least keep you out of trouble.
P R E S E N T D A Y--
Security escorted you and Jimin out immediately as the media broke into a frenzy trying to figure out what had happened. You had hoped your acting skills had convinced him.
After Taehyung sobered you up slightly, the three of you had sat and schemed. Using everything the three of you knew, you were able to figure out that it really was Jin behind Jimin’s accident, your and Namjoon’s kidnapping, as well as Jungkook’s attempted murder. He was able to do all of this using Hobi’s help, but Hobi seemed not to know that he was receiving orders from Jin.
The question remained how and why.
“I know you’re not going to believe me. So I have proof” Taehyung pulled his phone out, pulling up a recording of Jin tied up somewhere.
All I ask, is that when the dust settles, Y/n is mine. And I get to kill them. My way
You felt queasy seeing his earnest expression through the film. Namjoon’s jaw clenched, recognizing crazy when he saw it, wishing he could have knocked the guy’s brains out beforehand.
“Listen to me. This guy is dangerous. I don’t really understand why he’s doing all of this. He said he wanted to help me, but clearly there’s some other motive here. Otherwise he wouldn’t go behind my back.” Taehyung muttered.
“The only way to know what he wants is to see what he does next” Namjoon pitched in.
You glanced between the two men, feeling weirdly relieved that you finally had some solid answers. Having Namjoon by your side after so long was the best thing you could ask for at the moment, and you clung to him, hands wrapped around his arm tightly. He thought it was cute.
“Let me fake my death. Let’s see what he does.”
The drivers took you and Jimin to the precinct. You looked around for Namjoon but he was nowhere to be seen. Your eyes met Jin’s briefly as he signed some paperwork. He winked at you.
“Can I have the body taken to get an autopsy report please?” You weren’t phased by this. Taehyung had said he had enough contacts to make it truly believable that he had died. Jimin’s face was void of emotion as he watched the stretcher go past with the body on it.
You left the hold on his hand, your blood running cold as the body nears you. It was loosely covered with a white sheet, but the arm hung out limply from the sight.
That watch. That’s his watch.
Jimin pressed his lips to the top of your head, sliding his arm around your shoulders to pull you closer to him “You okay babe?”
“I...no yeah, I’m just shocked” You stammered. You looked up at him, allowing him to place a loving kiss on your lips.
Jimin felt for you, he really did. He himself was generally an emotional person, it was not something he ever tried to hide. But he always felt like his emotional energy was valuable. He didn’t feel the need to cry. Not for Taehyung.
Jimin stroked your back softly, “It’s scary, I know. I know baby, but don’t worry” He licked his lips, eyes briefly meeting Hobi’s from across the room. Hobi gave him a knowing look.
“Don’t worry. It’ll all be over soon”
ᐊ——[ previous ] series navi | masterlist | [ next ]——ᐅ
a/n: WOOHOOO. the fun is really gonna start now. did you miss yoongi? don’t worry, he’ll be back. drop your theories in my asks! who killed taehyung? what’s jin’s deal?
smut pairs are up for next week! poor oc, she really needs to eat some food. yikes.
see you then & thanks for reading <3 happy juneteenth!
taglist: @imluckybitches @gee-nee @missseoulite @hcneybees @kooookie @queenmasterxx @crustycaitlin @virgo-and-libra @un2-verse @winter-melontea @equivocacies @infernal-alpaca @shrimpmsg @meowmeowyoongles @rjsmochii @liltangerined @littlrmills14-blog @issysor @arandomblackgirl @adoringinsanity @giadalin @jeontier @kaithezaftig @jinssexytoe @nonnis97@minyoongiboongi @happygirl62304 @just-me-and-myselfs @purplepebbles @channiespup @lilacdreams-00 @kianam @thmrdrs @kpoppin-mel @namjooningelsewhere @lolzerss @planetsope @ohmykim @xyahrinx @bangtan-army @you-are-my-wind
#jungkook smut#jungkook x reader smut#taehyung smut#taehyung x reader smut#yandere taehyung#dom!jungkook#yandere seokjin#yandere bts#yandere bts smut#bts smut#bangtan smut#bts smut recs#seokjin smut recs#jin x reader smut#bts mafia au#seokjin x reader smut#yandere!bts x reader#btswriterscollective#btswriters#jungkook smut recs#taehyung smut recs#ot7 x reader#ot7 x reader smut#yandere!bts x reader smut#bts smut central#bts smut net#yandere bts fics#jungkook fic recs#taehyung fic recs#dom!taehyung
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Meet y/n - Disney corruption au
-Y/n is 15-16 yrs old. Your family decides to take a trip to Disney land for vacation. While your parent(s) isn't looking you go over to a closed-off area in the park. Normally you wouldn't do that, you have some sort of common sense but something was calling you to this area. you end up at a broken-up nearly collapsed park. As soon as you stepped onto the ground you felt fear come over you.
-there was an old castle up ahead and you walk up to it. You are hesitant at first but open the doors...
-y/n arrives in Disney town passed out in front of Mickey's castle. He brought them in out of curiosity since he didn't recognize them. Y/n wakes up in a big room with a big window facing Disney town.
-Mickey was watching them so he saw when they woke up. He comes into the room and introduces himself. Y/n already knows who he is but they freak out more than they already have been. Mickey acts all nice and innocent trying to calm them down. Once y/n calms down they tell him who they are and where they came from.
-Mickey Is surprised to find out that y/n(you) is from the human world he sees them as a new "friend" and decides to keep them. He asks y/n if they're ready to leave the room and y/n not wanting to be alone follows him down the castle.
-y/n was treated like royalty. If y/n asks for a certain toy, food, clothes, or ask to see a certain character they get it no questions asked. If a character is dead, being tested on, or hard to find Mickey will say that they're busy or they're hanging out with family. Y/n wonders far into the castle out of curiosity/boredom and ends up at a green door(it's clear you didn't learn the first time). Y/n opens it and...
-
-you, y/n need to free all the characters locked in Mickey's laboratory in order to get home. With each character you free you are rewarded with a new weapon or physical upgrade for obstacles.
-you will have to face monsters, lab-tested characters, and psychotic people who want to see you in pain. But you will complete every task at hand.
-you get a chance to hide at a secret hideout...casita. Casita/the madrigals live far down below and far away from Disney town and you find refuge there. Under the house, there is an underground tunnel that leads to other houses that belong to new/other characters that didn't want to be found by mickey
-Julieta helps nurse the characters you saved back to health while you go back and save other characters.
-While you are doing this you have to sneak past security guards, mickey, his friends, Disney town residents, etc.
-Mickey gets suspicious of you and asks one of his goons and friends to follow you around but you're smarter than that and have a cloaking device that was given to you after one of your missions. you use it often to hide
-You get hurt a lot but your gen z so you can take it. the hourglass around your neck is a timer and you only have a certain amount of time until you have to go back home.
-
I want to thank @gamerbearmira for helping make this au and for the design. If you have any questions, ideas, and/or prompts my ask box is open. you can find more about this au here and in the tags on my page
This au was inspired by @c-rose2081
you can find the first designs here
#disney corrupted au#madrigal family#casita#disney pixar#walt disney#disney au#my asks are open#black artist#teen artist#artists on tumblr#disney corruption au
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The trouble final pt.
A/N- it's over :( I’m sad that it is, but I’m so thankful for all of you that read it and stuck around to finish with me :)
Warning- ANGST, talks of loss and grief, ptsd, Violence, blood, light fluff
Pairing- Jesse x fem!reader
——
“Give me your arm again,” Ellie mutters after she had cleared the room that had once been filled with enemies part of the same group as those two me she, and you had taken out. “It’s—”
“It’s okay,” you cut her off and pull your arm away before she could grab it again. “It won’t change sizes, or color in the last ten minutes that you checked.”
After finding out that you had gotten bit by the infected that the man taunted you with, Ellie has been careful with you, she’s made sure that you wouldn’t strain yourself, she’s kept you from helping her fight the danger that lingered, as if you were some child.
And you understood why she kept insisting on trying to keep you from harm's way, she was being cautious, she was worried, but that isn’t going to change the outcome of your dooming fate.
“We could try cutting it off,” she insisted again, hoping that this time you’d change your mind.
You shake your head, “no, we don’t have the proper equipment.” You sit up and begin walking out of the broken down corner store. “I’d end up bleeding to death instead. Plus,” you sigh. “We don’t have time. Not if we want to reach Abby.”
Ellie follows behind you slowly, albeit somewhat lagging behind as she comes across good loot to collect. “We?” She quieres, “it’s we now?”
Your gaze drops to the ground, seeing the natural greenery that cracked through the sidewalk and began to take back its natural place. “I told you my reason already. No matter what’s happening, I’m sticking to it.” You feel chills all over your body and when your head lifts and your eyes flicker to her passing you, that’s where you see him again; Jesse. The bullet that shot through his face and took his life. His cold dead eyes were piercing into you, and his body was stuck in place, unable to even move but causing the same effect it always did.
Ellie noticed your wavered attention, followed your line of vision and saw nothing and knew what was happening. But perhaps that was because of the horror in your eyes. Regardless, she didn’t question it, she just walked towards you to break you from your stupor. “It’s not far anymore. We’re almost where the man told us. I see the round building.”
You pull your eyes from the now empty space where Jesse had been to glance back at Ellie and follow right behind her—for the most part it was silent, but as far as your mind, it was loud and booming with different racing thoughts and memories.
——
Ellie’s eyes follow your line of vision to the couple quietly talking amongst themselves in the far end of the room. And at first she didn’t think much of it. Actually she simply ignored it and just thought you might be spacing out, but just as she was going to look away the young girl in front of the tall guy with dark shaggy hair, caught her attention. Ellie did a double take and found herself captive by the girl's looks; her long dark hair styled in a ponytail, the light freckles on her face and her bright, charming smile.
She couldn’t keep herself from asking about her in complete starstricken awe. “Who’s that?”. Albeit her words didn’t register in your mind until she grabbed your shoulder and ripped you from your own awe. “Y/N?!”
You blink and look down at the drink in your hand, thinking she was referring to the guy and smiling softly as you answered. Even if a slow sizzling jealousy did begin to boil in the pit of your stomach because she asked. “That’s Jesse.”
Clueless to the fact that you told her the guy's name, Ellie nodded and slowly turned her head to pick up her drink from the table, unable to keep a smile from tugging on her lips. Her curiosity got the best of her before she could even think of taking a sip from her drink like she had planned to. “Is Jesse…dating someone?”
You glance at Jesse and answer her with bitterness in your tone. “Yeah, he's dating Dina. The girl he’s talking to.”
Ellie snaps her head and takes another look at the couple before looking at you with confusion. “Wait, Jesse is the boy? Or the girl?”
“The boy,” you tell her.
“Oh.” Ellie’s eyebrows furrow deeper and thinks that the name Dina suits the girl a lot better. It was actually a pretty name.
“Wait, why do you ask?” You probe as you shift around to look at her better. “Do you…” you pause and narrow your eyes. “…think Jesse is cute?”
“What?” Ellie scoffs with even more confusion. “No. No,” she shakes her head, “I thought the girl was named Jesse, since when I asked you for her name you said that.”
Oh. It makes sense now.
“Oh,” you breathe out and then smirk when you realize why she asked if Dina was dating anyone. “Do you think Dina is cute?” You sip on your straw and raise your eyebrows.
Ellie’s cheeks turn to a tint pink and she looks away from you to hide her flustered smile. “No. Just curious.” She turns her head and smirks when she looks at you. “Do you like Jesse?”
You sigh and look at your hands on the table. “Yeah, but well he’s dating Dina, so I can’t really tell him how I feel can I?” Your heart sinks to your stomach, but you try to ignore the gloomy feelings. “Regardless, he’s a good friend, so I’m better off not telling him anything at all.”
Ellie’s eyes wander to Dina for a brief moment and just like you, a heaviness sets over her heart because of the girl that she can’t try and pursue. You both were stuck looking from afar like a couple of love-struck idiots.
But maybe it was better off that way. Looking from afar.
Neither of you would get hurt that way. If only it was that easy to keep looking and not desire their love in return. Especially when you have to face them everyday of your life, around the same four walls that kept you secure from the rotting, walking corpses…and other humans.
Why couldn’t things be simpler?
When you steal a glance from Jesse that’s all you asked for. Which was such a funny thing to ask with the world as it was. It made you wonder if people back then asked the same thing?
How’s having clickers for simple?
Nonetheless that’s what you wanted right now. A simple life…or really simple feelings, platonic feelings for the guy you’ve known for too many years now. It would make those thoughts—dreams you had of an intended life with him nonexistent. It would make being around him feel like nothing.
Why couldn't life be so simple—why couldn’t your feelings be simple?
——
“Through here,” Ellie waves you over into a dimly lit hall that was crowded with a bunch of old broken furniture and worn down junk that covered wooden doors, leaving an open path towards a darker-lit corridor. Making this part of the invasion the simplest part of sneaking inside.
“Sneaking inside this building was much harder than actually getting in the property,” you snap in a sharp whisper as you turn off your flashlight and continue behind Ellie, seeing her peek over her shoulder to steal a quick glance as she remarks on your comment.
“Tell me about it.” She scoffs and stops in front of the only unblocked door after turning the corner. “Would’ve been much easier if you stuck behind like I asked.”
You narrow your gaze on her and stop to put your hand on your hip and retort. “You know I’m not a child. Maria doesn’t even treat me this way. I can take care of myself.”
“You’ve never been bit, that's why.” Ellie snaps, her back still facing you and her head turning to face the door after she caught what came out of her mouth.
When her words hit you too, you drop the sass and exhale deeply, letting a sorrow filled frown replace the curled lip. Instead of responding to her with something you know would weigh down on the already heavy subject, you just smoothly change it to the matters in front of her. “Are you going in first, or should I?”
Ellie rolls her shoulders back and straightens her posture to slowly push the door forward, and reveal another poorly lit, dirty room. This time however, whispers came from beyond the shadows of the room, making Ellie put her hand out, signaling you to wait as she carefully snuck inside with her revolver in hand.
Not like you listened albeit, because once she had taken a few steps inside you followed behind her with your hand around your weapon. However once you stepped inside the room your eyes instantly fell on the cell filled with people all poorly taken care of, people they called their prisoners and proved that letter you found about an escapee right. The sight shook you to your core and froze you just under the doorway, that hesitance causing you to miss the woman who jumped out from behind the door and attacked Ellie with a bat like some crazy person.
Of course, Ellie reacted quickly and managed to jerk back, grabbing a hold of the bat and shoving the woman to the wall by pressing the wooden weapon against her throat. But since Ellie was wounded, and weak from lack of food, the woman overpowered her, caught her off guard, and kicked her injured side to then push her to the floor when Ellie was hit with that throbbing and blinding pain.
The woman thought she was going to win, but she hadn’t seen you when she just abruptly attacked without a plan, leaving you with the perfect chance to sprint forward and grab the side of her head, completely startling her. She tried to rip your hands off, but you punctured your thumb into her eye beforehand, causing her to groan out in pain whilst you lifted your leg to kick her towards the cell where the prisoners got ahold of her instead.
“Ellie,” you instantly called out in worry, letting the people behind the cell overpower their captor and take her out with a hard squeeze to her throat with the same bat she used on Ellie— “Are you okay?” You offer her your hand to help her off the floor, and she takes it without an ounce of hesitance. The moment she stands up though, is when you see that more blood began to leak from her wound. She noticed your worried stare and just covered it with her hand, pulling your eyes up to meet her gaze for a lingering second before she looked at the prisoners. You follow her line of vision and watch the prisoners letting themselves out of the cell and quickly occupying their hands with different guns.
Before the prisoners leave Ellie leaves your side and steps towards them with an obvious question. “Where’s Abby?”
They all glance at each other and before any could answer, a woman points out what you thought you had well hidden. “She’s bit!”
A man beside the woman doesn’t fret to point his rifle at you, triggering Ellie instantly and causing her to point her gun at them as she spat out at the man in a venomous tone. “Don't point that gun at her!”
Seeing the gun in hand pointed at the man, those behind him point their weapon at the both of you and surround you with one single intention in mind. Yet before they could act on it, an older man comes in between all of you. “Hey, hey, hey! Abby tried to escape.”
Ellie’s aim on the man falters, and her glare shifts to the man who continues. “She’s down in the pillars.”
“The pillars?” Ellie presses for clarity.
“Head down to the beach,” the man motions out the door with his head. “You won’t miss it. She’s probably already dead.”
With nothing else to ask, or share, the prisoner, Ellie and you, slowly step away from each other and part your own ways; with the prisoners leaving out the door you just came out of, Ellie and you march out the double doors the man had pointed to. Yet the beach wasn’t outside these doors, it would be much easier if it was, but no, you were welcomed by a dark hall, that was purely lit by the moonlight that peeked through the broken windows on the wall. Still the menacing darkness didn’t scare you away, you both continued down the path that led to a broken pair of doors that led to a brighter room, one that smelled like rotten, and moist wood.
Besides that annoying smell, the old, green covered patio was easy to navigate through, even with its broken floors and disorganized room. But through the silence between your friend and you, the sound of gunshots, and shouting against the new threat that escaped from the cell easily and loudly echoed in your ears, even after you jumped a small ledge and walked between the palm trees that scattered when you finally reached the beach.
However, salt, nor water is what you smelled, instead the stench of blood, and putrid aroma of death tickled your nose, almost causing you to gag. You would have thrown up if it wasn’t for all the people you saw tied to actual pillars on the beach. Most were already dead—all were already dead, most were just left as skeletons.
It was such a horrifying sight, like straight out of a nightmare. You’ve heard of tortures like this from Tommy, from other older people in town who experienced similar situations but you never thought it was real. You could never believe it.
“Ellie,” you murmur in disbelief, your eyes unable to stop glancing at every body tied up to pillars when you pass by them in search of one woman. “We should just—”
“There.” Ellie blurted in what almost sounded like excitement. “She’s there.”
Ellie points to a figure up on a pillar, and that’s when you see her. Abby; She’s a lot skinnier now from the lack of food every person not part of the gang seemed to suffer through, her hair was cut close to her scalp, her clothes were torn and her muscles were almost completely gone, leaving nothing behind but slightly toned arms. She didn’t even look alive, but her raspy voice proved otherwise.
“Help me…please.”
It was shocking hearing her talk, but instead of feeling pity, sadness and an urgency to help her, knowing you could, all you felt was an unknown uncontrollable and blinding anger that invaded your mind and judgment. All the sorrow you felt was for the man she killed, the man you loved. She took him right as you both had gotten the chance to finally discover what it was like to love each other. That anger that you warned Ellie about, the rage and thirst for revenge that you’d seen burning in Tommy’s eyes, now overwhelmed you too. It completely fueled wild and violent, revenge filled thoughts that you once thought vile.
Now you shared what motivated Ellie to leave behind her life on her farm.
“It’s you…” Abby whispers hoarsely after she picks up her head and spots Ellie, leaving you to be almost invisible in her eyes. If it wasn’t because Ellie surprisingly let her down from the pillar you would’ve remained nothing but a shadow. Alas Abby saw your face behind Ellie’s when she managed to stand on her feet, she didn’t recognize you at first, but then you saw the flash in her eyes when the memory faded in.
Albeit she didn’t react any differently, instead Abby simply walked to that boy she had been with before; he looked skinnier now, just as weak as Abby. He’s someone you felt pity for, your fight wasn’t with him, but you still did nothing to help, you stood frozen behind Ellie, shocked that she tied down Abby instead of using her switchblade to finish her off. That state of disbelief only heightened when you both began to follow Abby towards boats.
You sought for answers with a simple look, but Ellie’s expression on her beaten face gave nothing but rage. You almost wanted to end the ache you felt in the fragments of your shattered heart, however right when you raised your trembling gun, there he was. Jesses ghost reappearing. He stopped you from acting on revenge, but fueled an adrenaline you couldn’t act on. Not with how Ellie was holding back after coming all this way. You couldn’t help but wonder out loud.
“Ellie, what are you doing? She's right there.” You come to a stop on the side of a small boat, meeting Ellie’s gaze. “Let’s do it. Let’s kill her.” Your eyes drift behind her shoulder to look at Abby, seeing her seem eager to get out of here with the boy without as much of a question of why you were both here. It’s as if she didn’t care. It pissed you off. It made you eager to just kill her yourself.
And it was due to that eagerness that blinded you that you didn’t see Ellie’s sudden switch with the sight of her blood on her hand. It wasn’t until you heard the water clash with her stride towards Abby. Her voice broke through your ears and made your eyes focus intently on her. “I can’t let you leave.”
You take a step back, intending to walk to her side for aid, but you stop when Abby responds with such nonchalance. “I’m not doing this.”
Those words trigger Ellie, causing her to take those last steps towards Abby to grab her shoulder and her hair to forcefully throw her to the water. Continuing then to kick her side and making Abby groan, but not fight back. She just stayed in the water and simply shook her head, “no. I’m not going to fight you.” Abby looks back at you and shakes her head. “Either of you.”
Again you stand frozen. Her words stung like cold ice against your skin, they just stomped on your already broken heart and broke it to finer pieces within your chest. How could she just decide that after what she did?
Then again….
…no…
Ellie killed Abby's friends. All of them. But it was for Joel….but….Abby was down, she pleaded for mercy even if she didn’t directly say it.
Why is your mind so confused? Why did this hunger for revenge suddenly begin to fade away? Just when it started?
What would’ve Jesse done?
Your eyes fall on your bite from that infected and then you glance at the vision of Jesse. His bloody face reminded you of what you wanted….of what Tommy wanted, even if it wasn’t for Jesse’s death. And you tried to force your anger to be as furious as moments ago.
“Yes, you will.” Ellie seethed, pulling your eyes back to her as she stormed towards Abby's boat and threatened his life with her blade against his throat. Not like he could even fight back, he was too weak to even open his eyes. It should’ve made you protest, but Abby beat you to it.
“He’s not a part of this.”
“You made him a part of this.” Ellie retorted angrily.
Abby stands up and says, “okay, okay,” to give Ellie what she wanted. A fight that would deem one winner, and it was obvious who. Even as Abby charged at Ellie and tackled her to the ground first, you knew in the back of your head Ellie would win.
Even still though, you watched their fight attentively. Maybe you should’ve helped, but this solely felt like Ellie’s fight now. Because again, you couldn’t find it in yourself to act on those feelings.
Nonetheless when your eyes fell on Abby's boat whilst Ellie swung her blade and fought her, Jesse’s haunting ghost made you think of taking what Abby loved the most. The kid—he was there, you could slip by them now that Ellie had forced Abby to the ground with a harsh jab on her shoulder. Abby wouldn't be able to stop you until it was too late, she’d only see his dead body just like how you saw Jesse when you ran out of the theater. She’d suffer the same way, she’d stay on the ground in shock and broken hearted, it would be good revenge to finally stop seeing Jesse’s dead body haunt you.
But you didn’t want to—your eyes return to Ellie and Abby fighting to watch neither of them get the upper hand. Ellie managed to stab her blade through Abby's shoulder when they were on the ground, but Abby reacted quickly and kicked Ellie off her, only continuing the fight, this time with no weapons, just their fists. It left the kid open.
Even if you didn’t want to, you walked past the boat and slowly walked towards the boy. You didn’t stop until you were beside it and overlooking the unconscious boy. And just like you had predicted Abby didn’t stop you, she couldn’t because she didn’t know you were here now, Ellie knocking her to the ground kept her distracted. This was your chance.
You lift your own knife and move your hand towards the boy's throat, the tip of your blade hovers inches over his skin; one more inch and the blade would puncture his skin and flesh, he'd be dead, Abby would have no one. She’d feel your heartbreak. Jesse would be avenged….
The knife in your hand begins to tremble, and hesitation pulls back your hand. Your heart aches every day, the nightmares never stop, continuing everyday felt like being stabbed multiple times all over your body, but it wouldn’t change anything, killing the boy wouldn't stop the vision of Jesse’s dead body from reappearing. Jesse would know that. He knew that when it came down to it he’d have to do bad things, but he was also merciful when he could. He wouldn’t do this, not to the kid. You can’t either. You can’t kill Abby either, it wasn’t right.
These couldn’t be your last moments either. Which is why instead of falling prey to revenge, the knife in your hold falls from your grip and your body crashes down into the water. However instead of crying, you find yourself being more worried over Ellie. You couldn’t lose her….even if she was going to lose you, you couldn’t fathom the thought of losing her now. You needed her in your last moments.
However when you look at her, she’s proving you right, she’s on top of Abby and keeping her underwater to keep her from breathing. She’s moments away from winning, from finally killing Joel’s killer and completing her revenge. The thought of stopping her popped in your head, but this was her fight, she needed to make her decision. Even as you saw Abby struggle to resurface to breathe in air, you couldn’t stop Ellie now.
You watched the rain in her eyes, watched tears and ocean water glisten on her face, cleaning the blood off her cheeks. You waited to be there for her when she was done. But the moment never came, Ellie let go of Abby, letting her resurface to gulp in a breath of fresh air whilst she fell down. She chose to let Abby go and the girl took that chance after she recuperated enough to move. You let her go too. She never paid any attention to you until she glanced at you once because you were beside her boat, but that was it, she left with no hesitation after.
Leaving Ellie panting, and crying as she stayed sitting in the water. You let her have time alone for a little, but it was through the silence after Abby and the boy left that it all set in. The ultimate and unavoidable truth. You’ve tried to ignore any symptom that you could feel due to the bite, which didn’t turn out to be hard since well so far all you’ve felt is a slight annoying dull pain. Any other effect had yet to set in, but the wait was the most irritating side effect.
That and noticing that Ellie couldn’t even face you; due to her processing what just happened, what caused her to let Abby go, and that looking at you without having the mission of finding Abby as a distraction meant that she has to face the harsh truth of your death. She had to face the fact that she was losing someone else, she was going to lose someone else to the infection she couldn’t prevent. She was going to be alone.
“Ellie,” you mutter as your footsteps crash on the water while you slowly step towards her. “It was a good thing that you let them go.”
Said girl sits down in the water, letting the small waves crash into her legs, and feeling the breeze blow past her hair and wet her face, mixing her tears with water droplets.
“You’re right…” she breathes out, dropping her head to look at the cold dark blue water. “Joel wouldn’t have wanted it. I’m sorry I didn’t realize that sooner.”
Your lips tug to a smile and you sit beside her, the feeling of your body brushing against hers making her lift her gaze to steal a quick glance. “Why didn’t you stop her? You seemed eager at the end.”
You sigh and dip your fingers in the water to gently sway them back and forth while you answer her. “Realization set just like with you. The nightmares won’t go away anytime soon, and killing her wouldn’t have solved anything either.”
“Nightmares?” Ellie scoffs, finally daring to meet your gaze. “You're still worried about that.”
You laugh softly and glance at the bite on your arm before looking back at her again. “It’s weird, I thought it would hurt, but all I feel is annoyed. No fever, no pain. Nothing.”
Ellie straightens up and her eyebrows furrow as her eyes fixate on your bite mark. “Nothing?” She repeats and the back of her hand presses on your forehead. “Hmm. Maybe we’ll both live with that burden then. Would be nice.”
You offer her a soft smile and grab her hand to interlace it with yours. Feeling hope piece together the fragments of your broken heart. “I guess we’ll have to wait then, to see what the future holds.”
Ellie’s eyes shift to the grey clouded sky, while her hold secures around your hand in hopes that by doing so you wouldn’t leave her. She hoped that her words would be the manifestation needed to keep you alive and keep you from leaving. She couldn’t lose someone else. She couldn’t bear feeling that pain all over again. “Well, I hope you do live.”
A grin spreads on your lips, and your head falls on her shoulder as your own eyes drift to watch the clouded horizon in a peaceful, waiting silence.
.
.
.
Tagged- @protect-lev, @expecto-nox @vintage-and-hypnotic , @kokomaesadie , @0j-b0, @itsyellow , @minheoly @traceylader
#the last of us#the trouble#jesse tlou fanfiction#tlou jesse x reader#jesse fanfiction#jesse x reader#jesse imagines#jesse imagine#Jesse tlou#the last of us part 2#the last of us imagines#the last of us imagine#ellie last of us#tlou Ellie#Ellie Williams#Abby tlou#Levi tlou#tlou imagine#tlou imagines
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Porco Galliard | Mercy
Pairing: Porco Galliard x Fem!Reader
Rating: Explicit (18+ Only)
Warnings: Bondage with a belt, Panties stuffed into Porco’s mouth, A little bit of degradation, Some power play dynamics, Established Relationship
Word Count: 1.3k
A/N: Part of my Nine Muses Event to celebrate 9k! Follow the link to read more fanfics I’m writing to celebrate. This is quite inspired by late night thirsting with @lady-lunaaa, who somehow loves Pock more than me 🧡
Porco Galliard looked so pretty with your panties stuffed in his mouth.
He was always so whiny, so vocal, so willing to wake up anyone and everyone with the way he begged whenever you decided to play with him. You just wanted to hear what those little pleas sounded like when muffled by your slick-stained panties—they were just as darling, especially when groaned so heartily that drool spilled over flush cheeks.
And those thick arms of his looked delicious tied above his head with his own belt. His muscles were bulging, biceps flexing as you took your time teasing his weeping cock. Thick fingers were turning white against the leather.
This wasn’t your end game, no, you were just winding him up, coiling him tighter and tighter until you decided to release him and see what kind of wrath you would face.
You didn’t often get to be in control of him like this, so you were going to revel in it, going to drown in the power of being able to make him thrash against his binds. It took a lot of effort to tie him up. You’d wrestled with him over it, naked limbs weaving together like rope as you struggled to overpower him.
Those were the terms he set, having agreed to allowing you to tie him up, only if you were able to force him into it. And you did, once you wrapped your thighs around his perfect jaw.
Who knew your pussy would be such a marvelous weapon of distraction. Porco had been groaning your name into your cunt when you secured the buckle around his wrists.
Sliding your panties past plump lips had been a treat. You watched his arched brows furrow, normally perfect hair already starting to spill on his forehead as his tongue pooled with the bittersweet tang of your slick.
“Don’t act like you don’t like it, baby. Besides you were the one making me wet by teasing me under the table.”
You were tracing your finger up the ridge of his hard cock, watching him twitch and leak just from a few moments of playful taunting. He’d never been good at self control, his fault only made more evident as a muffled cry left his throat when your thumb circled the head of his cock, smearing pre-cum over hot, silken skin. You could feel the blood pouring down to his groin, thickening him up and making his veins pump harder under your touch.
Your tongue swirled over his nipple, grunts vibrating in his thick chest against your mouth. Your name was in his mouth, soaking into the fabric as he probably begged you to hurry up, to sink your cunt onto his cock so the ache he felt would go away.
You were careful to keep your pussy away from his cock, even as you sat back on his thighs, you hovered over him, heat just out of reach.
“God you look so pretty like this,” your point was emphasized as you ran your palms over the arms above his head, feeling his muscles flex. He was always pretty, but now he looked so open, so vulnerable, pink with blush and glistening with sweat.
The sparse, downy hair on his chest prickled when your hands moved over his pectorals, pinching at his nipples as you slid down his body. Those muffled whines get louder as you lick at his cock, short kitten licks that just leave spit to cool against his skin. Then you peppered his perfect balls with kisses, even going so far as to pop one between your lips before moving away again.
Amber eyes were practically melting with rage, his cheeks puffing as he spit your panties from between his lips.
“Untie me. Right now.”
He was giving you a chance—he could easily move his arms from the pillow if he wanted. But if you freed him, he’d show some kindness. But you didn’t want mercy.
“Or what, Pock?”
For once, he didn’t vocalize what he wanted to do to you. No whispers of I’m going to fuck you until you scream, I’ll make you beg for me to let you cum, none of the little threats he’d made in your ear at dinner. No, he was just going to show you.
Canine teeth ripped at leather and metal as he sat up, muscular thigh pressing up against your pussy as he freed himself. He was quick to pull you below him, man handling you until you were face down in his pillows, the belt he’d torn off being wrapped around your wrists.
“You’re fucking clever, I’ll give you that. You know I can’t resist that pretty pussy against my mouth.”
He pulled your hips up, keeping one hand against your back as the other pressed his swollen head against your folds. All you could smell was him on the sheets, all you could feel was his cock slapping against your clit to tease you.
“Fuck, you’re dripping. Little powertrip really got you off, hm?”
There was no chance to respond, your breath knocked out of your lungs when he shoved his cock into your cunt. He always felt so fucking good, so fat and full that it made your pussy flutter just to be stuffed with him.
Porco tangled his fist around your bound wrists, tugging until your shoulders burned and you had to arch your back to meet his strength. His hips were already relentless, his earlier teasing having him chasing that release as quickly as he could. Your body bounced against his, backs of your thighs burning from the sting of his own slapping against yours.
“I’ll show you what real power is, baby.”
He laughed as you just babbled out nonsense, brain struggling to keep up with the overload of pleasure building in your belly and racing over your nervous system. A slap to your ass had you crying, tears bubbling over your cheeks from the white-hot mixture of pleasure and pain from his strong hand. He repeated the action a few times, stopping only when he felt your cunt clench around him and cause his focus to fade.
“Such a good little slut,” he panted out his praise, using the muscles in his arm and shoulder to pull you back farther, grip tightening around the belt on your wrists, “such a tight pussy, god you look so good wrapped around my cock.”
You were ready to burst, the sounds of his cock thrusting into your wet pussy, the feel of him using you, the hot burn of him spreading you apart, all of it was too much. You were drowning in the ecstasy, floating in the haze of Porco’s fury. You knew he was capable of more, that he didn’t want to hurt you, just bring you into that delicious stupor of pleasure and pain that would have you coming undone.
“Fuck, I’m gonna cum, g-gonna fill you up,” he moaned, a sweaty hand gripping your hip so mean that you knew it to be true.
“P-Porco, please, let me—”
“Oh no, no, no, you don’t get to cum.”
He dropped you into the mattress as he came, hot cum spurting into your pussy. He always had such fat loads, always made you a fucking mess whenever he fucked you. You could feel his cock still pulsing, over, and over, and over again, strings of seed spilling into your hole for far too long. It dripped down your thighs nice and slow, enough to tease.
You only milked him more as your pussy sucked him in, looking for your own release. Porco whispered your name a few times in reverence, hand smoothing down your back and hooking around your binds again.
“Don’t tease me again,” he warned, “next time you tie me up, you better fuck me.”
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