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rexlroze · 1 month

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𝟏 — 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐀𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐢𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐋𝐢𝐟𝐞

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Hobie Brown / SpiderPunk x Fem! Reader

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.7K

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Use of Y/N, no physical description of reader (other then their clothing), Swearing, Mention of Alcohol, Mention of bugs, Violence/Fighting, and mostly Fluff I think.

𝑁𝑎𝑣𝑖𝑔𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠

𝑀𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡

A/N: This is my first time EVER writing a proper fanfic so if it sucks. Yeah. Idk- I tried my best tbh and hope y'all like it cuz if not, idk either. I'll be doing a tag list so if you want in, uh. Comment or sumn ig. Leave tips for me to improve in areas you think I need improvement! Also this isn't exactly canon to Earth-138. It's set in the early 2000s cuz no way am I writing for the fucking 1960s or whatever fuckin' year that mf comes from. I don't do requests nor do I plan on doing so. Happy Reading! 💛

Chapter 1 >>> Chapter 2

Recently, you just moved out of your parents house into a small cozy apartment in the North of London. About 200 miles away from your mummy and daddy dearest.

“No ma, I've already rented out my parlor. 'm not changing my mind at the last minute.” You grumbled into your phone as your mom hounded you with questions about literally everything. Your health, food, water, apartment and your new parlor.

Your new parlor, you were proud to say. You had finally rented out a small shop in Camden which was about a 10 minutes walk away from your apartment.

The only problem was that the area where your shop was grounded, it was in a small narrow area where people barely passed by and only a few residents lived and since you couldn't really afford a better place due to the flies that flew out of your wallet when you opened it and your limited budget, you just had to deal with it.

“Just know, if you ever need anything sweetie, me and your pops are always here.” Your mother reassured you sweetly but you could hear the concern trailing behind her voice.

“Yeah thanks, ma. Love you, and dad.”

“Love you too, sweets. But if you need anything like money, food or even—”

“Ma.” You cut her off abruptly.

“Yes?”

“I'll be fine, alright? I love you.”

“We love you too, sweetie.” She finally answered after a second of hesitation.

With that, you hung up the phone. Beeps punctuated the silence hanging in your room before you let out a deep sigh.

You sunk into your bed, looking up at the ceiling. As supportive your parents tried to be, they didn't really trust you with your career choices. The first time you told them you wanted to be a body piercer, they laughed and brushed it off… that was until they figured out you were being 100% serious.

You were grateful they didn't try to stop you, not directly at least because they never failed to mention and suggest a few other paths of careers. They got to the point of getting so desperate that they even suggested acting school but alas, you were as stubborn as a mule.

You got your license around 2 months ago. You can still remember yourself squealing and hopping around in your (old) room like a five year old who just got a puppy for Christmas. You couldn't wait to finally quit your side job (which was being a boring cashier with fake smiles and a faker kindness towards the karens that walked in and ruined your Monday mornings) and start your own little business in London. Your literal dream.

I'll get to work tomorrow. You thought to yourself since it was pretty much late afternoon now, turning the next 3 hours into a continuation of scrolling on your phone, listening to music on blast from the speakers sitting by your desk and knocking yourself out with some cheap bottle of booze that you bought during your ride to your apartment from the airport.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Making your way through the streets of Camden, you didn't fail to see the liveliness of it. People busy with their own lives, friends giggling, children skipping, couples holding hands, staring at one another with heart eyes.

Something squeezed your heart at the sight of the adorable couple. It reminded you of what you could've had with him if he hadn't… but unfortunately, what life throws at you isn't really under your control no matter how much you wish it could be.

You brushed off the nostalgia quickly and turned a corner, finding your parlor that you had rented about a week ago. You were met by sudden silence. The streets were quiet and empty other then the two teenage boys who were giggling and had run away after when you arrived, disappearing into a narrow alleyway.

You walked to where they previously stood just to see a poster. Specifically a band poster that was vibrant with different colors. A lanky punk boy posed in the middle of the poster with a guitar slung over his shoulder accompanied by three other members.

You couldn't help but get lost in the beauty of said punk boy. Honey-coated eyes that shone back at you, the color complimenting his ebony complexion along with his puffy jet-black hair that were braided into wicks, jawline so sharp that it made you wonder what it would feel like to run your fingers along them.

You shook your head, breaking the love trance you were stuck in. You didn't have time for dating, falling in love or whatever, not that you wanted to either. Your eyes zeroed on the big font at the bottom of the page.

“Spidersica, performing this 9th March at 9:30pm.” You read out loud to yourself. Almost 2 weeks away. Shrugging, you turn back to your shop. You'll decide what to do with that information on a later date.

You twisted the door knob that was attached to the black sleek door with the obscure glass window adorning it. The gold paint was scraping off the knob revealing the silver underneath. Besides that, when you turned the knob, the door didn't budge. You twisted it once more. Nothing. You pushed the door while twisting the knob the third time. Nothing again.

Slamming your body against the door in frustration, making the door burst open and you fall through it onto the cemented flooring. The bell atop the door chimed, swinging back and forth, mocking and taunting you.

Get the door fixed, you made a mental note as you pushed yourself up back onto your two feet. Running a hand over your T-shirt and straightening it.

You scanned the room, eyes roaming over the unused facility. Cobwebs decorating the corners of the roof, dust bunnies waving at you from the floor, old cream wallpaper peeling off the walls revealing the cemented wall beneath, the polluted air making you have a cough fit after you inhaled some dust accidentally.

Unshed tears pricked your eyes as your coughing fit wore off after a little while. “This could use some renovations,” you croaked out to no one in particular as you switched the light switch on.

The light bulb lit up producing a very bright light (brighter than normal) that illuminated the room. At least something works— your train of thought was cut off when the light bulb abruptly exploded.

“Just had to jinx it,” you grumbled, placing your hand onto your face.

You found your way to some curtains beside the door, pulled the long dirty brown pieces of linen apart, revealing a huge window that let the warm sunlight seep in and lighten the dark room. You slid the windows up to let the toxic air out and fresher air in.

Get the curtains replaced. You noted down somewhere in your brain as you took in the hideous pattern of the curtains.

You walked around the shop, letting your hand trace the long wooden counter that extended from the wall. Dust collecting at your fingertips that you wiped off on your shirt.

Making your way through the shop, you found a recessed door that was fixed into the left wall on the opposite side of the parlor. You gently turned the door knob not wanting to repeat the incident that transpired a few minutes ago. It opened without a fight.

When you peeked your head in, you found yourself in a small closet room. Metal shelves up against both sides of the wall with various random and dirty objects decorating them. The closet was just as filthy as the rest of the shop.

You found boxes, some small, some large sitting at the other end of the closet. That must be the furniture! You think, making your way towards them.

As you pick up one of the boxes carefully, wrapping both arms around the box that was bigger than your own head. You suddenly yelped falling back on your butt, the box falling into your lap.

“Fuck no!” You screeched in horror as you saw a cockroach fly up in the air. “Nononononono.”

You dashed out the closet, almost tripping on your shoe laces that came undone who knows when, slamming the door shut so the pesky rodent wouldn't escape and terrorize the rest of your shop as well. “What the fuck!”

Mental note 3, get pest fucking control. So far, the day was not going as planned.

You released a deep breath pulling your phone out from your back pocket to check for damage. You've never been more grateful for the invention of phone cases in your life. You doubted your phone could bear another crack on it's already kinda-fucked-up screen.

Pocketing your phone once again, your hands rested on your hips. You stared at the floor trying to calm down. “Fuckin’ hell,” you murmured to yourself rubbing your eye with the heel of your palm.

You kicked off your left shoe and turned back to the closet, mentally preparing yourself for the battle your a lifetime.

—

After fighting for your life and clearing out your closet of any other unpleasantries that may surprise the living Christ out of you, you pulled out your phone and began typing in some to-dos into the notes app. Tile installment, cleaning, probably pipe replacement, a door fix, bulb and wiring replacement, paint, decoration and all that stuff with the budget of five fucking hundred pounds. Just yay.

You left the parlor with determination to accomplish your goal; renovate. You thought as you found your way through the door and back on the streets of Camden.

In a matter of a few hours, you had managed to hire a few mechanics and workers to, one, install marble floorings into the parlor, two, get any pipelines or such fixed, three, get all cracks and crevices in the walls plastered, four, fix the door lock, and fix, rewire and reinstall the lightbulb. All in the cost of four hundred and thirty pounds, and with the seventy pounds left, you could buy the paint, curtains, and other pleasantries as such.

Walking through the appliances stores, your phone on hand as you check off a few to-do boxes. Satisfaction bloomed in your chest to see how much you had done in the matter of a day.

A small smile spread across your face as you made your way towards the next shop when a sudden boom behind you made you stop in your steps.

Screams fill the air but they're tuned out by the sudden high-pitched ringing in your ears. People passed by you running towards the exit and evacuating while you just stood there, unable to move for some reason when finally, your head snapped towards the chaos to see what everyone was running away from.

Green Goblin. You had seen him on the news whenever you scrolled on your phone for too long or when you scrolled through the TV channels and ended up on the news channel but never did you think you'd see him in real life but if the Green Goblin was here then…

Abruptly, the villainous individual who was flying abounding on his hoverboard and terrorizing everyone in the mall was knocked off by a swift kick. The one who delivered it was quick, you only saw the red and blues colors blurring together. Oh my fucking god, no way.

Slowly, the blurs of color started mashing together into an appropriate form. It's Spider-Punk. THE fucking Spider-Punk. And you were seeing him not through tv, but through your own goddamn eyes.

You watched as the Green Goblin regained his composure and lunged towards Spider-Punk. The two vigilantes participating in a violent game of tango while you stood there wide-eyed and stuck amidst the chaos sitting in the front seat.

It didn't take long for both vigilantes to notice your presence. All at once, a shout broke out from the red masked punk, “move!” when a broken piece of the wall was thrown right in your direction by the one and only Green Goblin. You saw the white's of Spider-Punk's mask widen.

Move. An inner voice in your head screamed. You couldn't. Move, goddamnit! Nothing. It felt as time had slowed down.

The stone piece inches away from your face, ready to smash your skull in when suddenly a silky white rope connected to your side and pulled you towards it. A hand wrapped around your waist and suddenly, now you're in the air.

Your heart thumped in your ears from the sheer amount of adrenaline and fear coursing through you as the two of you swung out the appliance store.

Your arms were subconsciously wrapped around his neck, your face was buried into the curve where his neck met his shoulder. You peeked your head up to see yourself high up in the air, and a glimpse of blurred green chasing the two of you.

You sucked in a shaky breath, you wondered if he could hear how loud your heart pounded, like it was gonna erupt from your chest anytime soon.

You felt heavy air hitting your back when he abruptly turned a sharp corner and now you're sitting on a dumpster in an alleyway who knows where with a vigilante in front of you checking for any major injuries.

“You alrigh’, love?”

It took you a minute to register his words due to the daze but you finally managed to choke out a “I'm fine,” your voice was slightly breathless but you didn't focus on that right now instead, you focused on the individual in front of you.

You quickly took in his wardrobe. A red spandex bodysuit, spiked mohawk, leather jacket, collar, spikes, nets, guitar, red boots, blue laces— blue laces? well damn…

“Aight, take a breather f'me, lovelie. ‘m gonna go deal w’him, ay? Take care!” He shouted, his voice fading as he ran towards the exit of the alley and swung away before you could manage another response.

…

What the fuck just happened?

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

You slowly recovered from the incident that happened just three days ago. An hour long face call with your parents who had seen you on the news swinging around in the arms of Spider-Punk. You lost count after sixteen of just how many times your parents had asked you if you were okay.

You had paid off the workers to get the job done while you were away, now you could only hope they hadn't robbed you and were currently flying to another state with your money.

You didn't have much left to do from your to-do list. The only thing you needed was some paint and furniture. You had ordered the paint (and paid) online, it would be at the door of your parlor in about a few hours. Or at least that's what the notification you gotten had said.

As you were currently laying in bed clicking away on your computer and chewing on the back of a pencil you randomly found in your backpack and an orange sofa that you found in your fridge, something ringed in your head.

Right!

The concert, you were supposed to look into it when you got home. Unfortunately, it had pretty much slipped your mind due to your little experience about a day ago.

You clicked away, opening a new tab, “Spi…der…si…ca… baa…nnd.” You pronounced each syllable carefully while you typed away.

Pushing down the enter button, you were met by a white loading screen that led you to another google page. You clicked the first link and found yourself on another website.

“A popular punk band in london with the following members: Karl Morningdew, the bass Guitarist, Riri Williams, the keyboardist and Mattea Murdock, the drumist followed by their BandLeader, Hobart Brown, the guitarist—” Your voice slowly faded out as you saw the image of a familiar punk boy pop up that you had gotten lost in just a few days ago outside of your parlor. “Huh.”

You scrolled through the website until your eyes settled onto the information you were looking for, “Spidersica, publicly performing on the 9th of March.” The information was followed by the location and other necessary details.

“Eh, screw it. I gotta socialize anyway,” you blurted out, clicking off the tab.

—

After finishing another can of soda, you finally had gotten ready to go back out after locking yourself in your house for the past forty-eight hours. Patting the pockets of your jeans to make sure you had your phone and keys in them, you escorted yourself through the door of your apartment.

You soon find yourself making your way down the three quarter turn stairs and back on the roads looking up in the sky for a particular rebellious masked vigilante.

You didn't know what for, maybe to thank him. Or maybe just curiosity at its finest. You shrugged the thoughts off and continued making your way to the parlor. You didn't have time for a cat and mouse chase where the mouse doesn't even know he's being chased.

After all, you were no one special. Just a normal everyday civilian whom his job was to protect.

Finally arriving at your parlor, it looked a lot less abandoned than it did when you arrived three days ago, the front door opening with ease when you pushed the keys in and twisted the knob which was also replaced. You could tell due to the shining new gold color coating it.

Polished white marble tiles installed in the once cemented flooring. The crevices in the walls were filled out along with the old cream wallpaper removed. An air conditioner was fixed into the wall above the recessed door, a fixed bulb and working electricity.

Those were some major improvements but that didn't change the fact the place was still filthy as fuck.

You sighed and grabbed a broom that rested in the corner of the closet, pulling your headphones over your head and began sweeping away.

—

After you finished sweeping, you decide to install the new curtains you had bought. They were a dark marengo made of a silky smooth material. As you tried to push the curtains into the metal pole, the bell aloft the door began chiming signifying somebody had arrived, when you turned the door, you were met by a man who stood in a blue-ish uniform, a clipboard in his hand while he tapped the back of a pen on it.

“Uh hello, delivery for Y/N Y/L/N?”

“That would be me.”

“Oh, please just sign here.” He turned the clipboard around to face you, offering you the ballpoint he had.

You walked over, taking the pen from his hand and signed the piece of paper where he had told you to.

He put the clipboard away, taking the pen back from you as he stepped out and came back in with a large box placing it down onto the tile flooring. “G’day, madam.”

He politely bowed his head while you let out a small “thank you” after he tilted his head back up and walked back out the parlor.

You picked up the box that was immensely heavy, probably because of the damn paint cans in them, Sherlock, you had just assumed they most likely were the paints you ordered.

When you turned away, placing the box onto the counter, suddenly the bell chimed once again. You spoke without looking up, “did you forget something, Mr.mailman?”

“Mailman? Hardly.” A familiar angelic voice spoke, making you freeze, Spider-Punk—? You thought as you turned to the voice with wide eyes, but to your surprise. It was someone completely different.

“You good, love? You look like you just seen a ghost.” Honey-coated eyes, ebony complexion, jet-black hair, sharp jawline, is that-?

“Oh my god,” you breathed, “are you Hobart Brown?” your voice was a higher pitch than usual but you couldn't help it. “Oh my god, what are you doing here—” you were abruptly cut off by him.

“Okay okay, I'm gonna cut you off right there, love, first of all. Just call me Hobie. Please.” He chuckled, a small smirk on his face, “and well, second of all, I heard you did piercings, hm?”

“Oh. Uh… okay then, Hobie. Yes. Yeah, I do piercings, why?” Well, that's a stupid question.

“I was wondering if you could do mine, because as you can see, my face is pretty clean.” He smiles softly, pointing to his face that didn't bear any piercings… yet.

“Oh yeah, um. I'm not really open yet—” you cut yourself off at a sudden realization. “Wait, how'd you find me?” You raised an eyebrow, you only remember telling everyone in your circle about the parlor yet.

“Oh, one of my friends told me.”

You raised your eyebrow higher, confusion bubbling in you. “Can I know their name?”

“Yuri.” He shrugged nonchalantly.

Yuri? As in your goddamn BEST FRIEND Yuri?

“Yuri Watanabe?” You asked, expecting a no.

"You know her?"

Of course I know my damn best friend, dumbass! That's what you wanted to say, but instead you held your tongue.

“Well yeah, she's my best friend. We met at a bar back in York.” You didn't know why you were telling him, you didn't even know if you could trust him. After all, he was just a random stranger— sure he was famous or whatever but you still just found out about him like three days ago.

“Huh, I don't think she's mentioned you but nice to meet you, er…?”

“Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N. Nice to meet you too, Hoba- Hobie.” You quickly corrected your small error.

“Y/N.” He looked like he was trying to remember something from a long time ago. Suddenly his eyes lit up, “oh yeah, she has mentioned you a couple times if I think about it.” He gave you a polite smile, “Do you need help? with whatever you're doing?”

“What?”

“I said do you want help?” He repeated, “seems like you could use some.” He observed, eyes roaming around your unfinished parlor.

“Do… are you looking for something in return?” You were confused by his sudden offer. He had to be wanting something in return, right? I mean, he learned your name like JUST a minute ago.

“Nah, just wanna help you out. Plus, you could prolly use some company, ay?”

“I mean… wait, why would you wanna do that? Aren't you busy with things like… practice or something.”

“Do you want help or not?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Yes.” You answered with a small voice, biting down on your lip gently.

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @the-kr8tor @hobieszeze @missshelleyduvall

Banner(s) by @/cafekitsune

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dianthusandhisreds · 3 months

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「 ✦ 𝕄𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕖𝕦𝕤 𝕒𝕤 𝕒 𝕓𝕠𝕪𝕗𝕣𝕚𝕖𝕟𝕕 𝕡𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝟙 ✦ 」

𝓛𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝓵𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓾𝓪𝓰𝓮𝓼 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓭𝓲𝓼𝓹𝓵𝓪𝔂𝓼 𝓸𝓯 𝓪𝓯𝓯𝓮𝓬𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷:

♡ Malleus, like the dragon (fae) he is, is very fond of collecting/hoarding small trinkets or things he finds interesting, like his “pet” Gao-Gao Drakon-kun. It comes so natural to him that he believes everyone must feel that way, so expect him to shower you with gifts at every chance he gets.

♡ He also enjoys going on long walks with you in the middle of the night (he loves seeing you ramble on about the things you are interested in); so you often find yourself joining him on a stroll in the warmer part of the botanical garden in wintertime.

On that note, if he notices that you are cold, he’ll immediately suggest going somewhere warmer or he’ll cast a spell to warm you up.

♡ As for (public) displays of affection, Malleus is the kind of man who will ask you for permission before kissing you on the lips, often kissing your hand or forehead instead. As for hugs, you and him will probably have long cuddling sessions on your couch while you watch TV or while you game/read.

𝓗𝓲𝓼 𝓲𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓮𝓼𝓽𝓼:

♡ He’ll be ecstatic if you ask him about his favourite places or gargoyles, especially the latter. Hoo boy, better get ready for a lengthy lesson about them, their use, their evolution through history… You get the drill.

♡ The thing is, you can’t really stop him. I mean, look at this guy, his eyes light up every time someone shows even the slightest interest on his tastes. He’s just, so, happy. Why bother yourself with buying lightbulbs when you have a gleeful Malleus illuminating the whole room?

Speaking of which, after repeatedly telling Malleus he can come and visit you at Ramshackle whenever he wants to (as long as it’s not at an ungodly hour in the morning), he starts coming over all the time.

At first, he’ll look very awkward, just standing there in the middle of your living room, unsure what to do. Eventually though, he will warm up to his surroundings, and kind of make himself at home: popping in just to say hi; chatting with the ghosts, helping you out in the kitchen…

𝓦𝓱𝓮𝓷 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓯𝓮𝓮𝓵 𝓪 𝓫𝓲𝓽 𝓭𝓸𝔀𝓷:

♡ To be honest, Malleus isn’t really good at knowing what to do or what to say when you are not doing well, but he’ll try his best because I mean, he’s going to be king, if he can’t help the one he loves, how is he going to aid his future subjects?

♡ He would usually ask Lilia for help, but because the old bat is emotionally constipated and just shrugs off his problems until people overblot , he decides to ask Trey or Deuce, as he knows you three get along.

♡ For the most part he’ll just hold your hand and draw circles on your back (if you are feeling like it) while he softly whispers reassurances in your ear. He doesn’t mind having to repeat words of encouragement over and over if it means that someday, you’ll believe them. After all, you have helped him numerous times, so what kind of person (?) would he be if he just left you suffering like that?

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a-victorian-girl · 2 months

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My first fic!

(OMG is this happening!? 🙈)

Today is John's birthday and, to celebrate it, he organized a small gathering of friends in Soho. Everyone was invited. And when I say everyone... I mean everyone.

:: English Version

:: Versión en español

(and it all started with this post) 😅

Thank you so much @helloliriels for encouraging me to write this fic and for checking it too! To @safedistancefrombeingsmart for checking the grammar in the introduction and to @lisbeth-kk and @with-a-ghost-mr-holmes for helping me insert the links in AO3 Notes, lol

@gregorovitchworld @topsyturvy-turtely @inevitably-johnlocked @totallysilvergirl @jobooksncoffee @calaisreno @meetinginsamarra @pressurepoint221 @catlock-holmes @peanitbear @toccata-i-voir @chocolate1elise @whatnext2020 @happydistraction @snonkerdoodlefizzy221b @melody7 @gaypiningshit @7-percent @zz-kennedy @discordantwords @kabubsmagga @nowiamcoveredinyou @221beloved @selcouthangel @khorazir @thalialurksalot @johnlocky @bluebellinbakerstreet @bluebellofbakerstreet @strawberrywinter4 @apazwtsn @im-on-a-case @myeyesblurry @sabrina-sb-cc @keirgreeneyes

(please, let me know if you don't want to continue being tagged!)

#my first fic #bbc sherlock #johnlock #many happy returns #sherlock #john watson

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xdaddysprincessxx · 8 months

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The Cabin in the Woods

Dave York x f!reader

Dark fic/dead dove, kidnapping, Dave is mean, dub/noncon, piv (wrap your Willy kids!) light dick sucking, dick biting, no description of reader other than having a vagina and grabbable hair, cream pie, scary dark basements, uhh probs some other things I’m forgetting but bottom line: this is dark. Dave is not a nice guy. Enjoy!

Summary: it’s been a few days since your world was turned upside down. Running on pure adrenaline, you plan on getting loose and running as far away as you can but can you outrun your kidnapper? Do you even want too?

A/n : yeaaa this is my first fic(?) idk I wrote this on my phone, purely horny brain rot for my suburban murder daddy. Not edited or beta’d. The more I look at this the more I hate it and feel like it doesn’t read well but in the words of the loml @toxicanonymity fuck it we ball

Your daily life has always been mundane. Predictable. Comfortable. You work, go home to a studio apartment just a few blocks from your office, every other day you order takeout, you try to workout and go out on the weekend but your couch and netflix stay calling your name. It’s the middle of September where it’s chilly in the morning but by the afternoon your sweating bullets so you decided to try and look cute by wearing your favorite black tshirt dress. Work is the same as always except you’ve recently been working on a new case, a murder/suicide. There’s something weird about this case though. A husband shoots his wife at the kitchen table before turning the gun on himself. No apparent marital problems beforehand, no affairs, no real motive behind why he would do it. And then there’s the blood splatter. It just doesn’t add up. There’s something strange about this case you just can’t place your finger on it.

It’s already half past 7 at night, you got lost in your work yet again and lost track of time. The office is empty and mostly dark. You can’t help but get the creeps as you leave your office and start walking towards the elevator. Not even half way down the hallway when you swear you hear a loud thud making you jump out of your skin as you turn around trying to figure out where the noise came from. With your heart in your throat, you pick up speed, walking towards the elevator. Just as your rounding the corner you run straight into a solid chest belonging to a very handsome man you’ve never seen before.

“Oh I’m so sorry! I didn’t see you there.” You stammer out as the handsome man just chuckles

“You outta be more careful sweetheart. Not good for your health to run into bad men.” the man said with a smirk

That’s a weird statement. Not good for my health? Bad men?? Your mind starts running wild as the handsome man snakes his arm around your back and before you can even react his other hand is coming up to your face, pressing a soaked cloth to your nose and mouth

“ Sorry sweetheart, it’s nothing personal.” is the last thing you hear before everything goes black.

You’ve always had weird dreams all your life. Even had some dreams that later came to fruition in real life. But this has to be the weirdest dream you’ve ever had. You dream of these beautiful brown eyes. Of a rough, deep voice. You can feel his hot breath on your neck while he whispers in your ear.

“ I need you to be a good girl for me sweetheart. This is for your own good.” As much as his voice alone has you turned on, you can’t help but have this nagging gut feeling that something is deeply wrong. You’re scared but can’t remember why. Suddenly everything around you melts away and your in a room you’ve never seen before. Blood red walls, a beautiful matte black four poster bed in the middle of the room. However you notice there’s no windows. That’s when you feel a hand on the back of your neck, guiding you towards the bed.

“Now I need you to do what I say sweetheart. It’s for your own good. Don’t fight me or try to run or else you won’t like the consequences.” the brown eyed man said in a low, rough voice. As soon as he said that, you suddenly find yourself at the bed. With his hand still on the back of your neck, guiding you, you climb up on the bed on all fours when he removes his hand. You don’t know why you feel the need to lay on your back with your hands above your head but that’s exactly what you do. That’s when you finally see the man standing above you as he tied your wrists together to the bed post. Just as he finishes tying you up, everything starts melting away into pitch black darkness.

The first thing you notice when you wake up is the light. It’s not super bright but bright enough when it feels like you’ve been stuck in a coma for a month. Your definitely in a bedroom, very simple. Just a regular full sized bed in the middle of the room. A small dresser to the right of it and a chair in the far right corner facing the bed and a man sitting in it. That’s when you realize your laying on your back with your hands above your head and that your wrists are tied together to a bed post above your head. Holy fuck do your shoulders hurt.

“Well good morning sleeping beauty. Or I guess good evening.” Dave says as he chuckles at his little joke.

The man! The mystery man you ran into before falling into this deep sleep. Wait no it wasn’t sleep. It’s all coming back to you now. He put a wet cloth over your nose and mouth. He used chloroform on you!

“Now that your awake, I’m going to need you to cooperate. This is for your own good sweetheart. I don’t want to hurt you but you are playing a very dangerous game.”

“What? I don’t know what your talking about. I’m not playing anything! I swear! You must have me mistaken for someone else! Please! Let me go, I swear I won’t tell anyone about this just let me live please!” You try to beg as you find your voice again after being asleep for god knows how long.

“Aht see that’s where your wrong. You were working on the Bernstein case correct?”

Confused, you nod your head as best you can. What does work have to do with this?

“See here’s the thing sweetheart, my team and I, we’re bad men. We do bad things for money. And you, princess, were dangerously close to solving the mystery which would be very bad for my men and I.”

You lay there with a confused look on your face as the puzzle pieces begin to fit in your brain and suddenly you’re able to put 2 and 2 together. You knew there was something off about the case but you had no idea he had any involvement or who he even was.

“ I - I’ll stop working on the case! I’ll tamper with the evidence, throw them off your track! Please! I’m sorry! I won’t tell! I’ll do whatever you want!”

“I really do enjoy hearing you beg sweetheart.” Dave shakes his head and chuckles darkly. “But begging isn’t good enough. Not when it comes to this.”

As your mind starts racing a mile a minute, you subconsciously start to press your thighs together for a little crumb of friction. The dream you had about this mystery man had you turned on and now that your awake, seeing his face and hearing his voice more isn’t helping your little predicament. While your lost in your head you don’t realize he’s been watching you like a hawk and has noticed every little movement you’ve made.

The man moves closer to the bed your on when you snap out of your thoughts. “What are you thinking about pretty girl?” he asked as he sits down next to your body. You look up at him with wide eyes

“ I - uh nothing.” You manage to stammer out, knowing damn well he can see right through you. “ uh huh. Is that right? So you rubbing your thighs, squirming like that, that’s nothing?”

Fuck. Fuckfuckfuck. It’s like he can read your mind! You’ve literally been kidnapped and tied up but yet instead of trying to get out your brain is stuck on dick. Your own pussy has betrayed you! You can’t help but notice this dark look come over his face. A hungry look in his eyes. And you can’t help but press your thighs together even more, causing your squirming to increase.

The mystery man lays a massive hand on top of your thigh making you hyper aware of the fact your in a dress. He starts rubbing his hand up and down your thigh, sending chills down your spine. It’s been god knows how long since you’ve last been laid. And the first man to touch you in so long just happens to be your kidnapper?? The universe is playing a cruel joke on you.

Your breath hitches as his hand makes it’s way up your thigh. You can’t help but notice how large and veiny his hand is. How warm . .

He breathlessly says your name. “Look at you. You’re a filthy little thing. I’m a bad, bad man who could do anything he wants while your completely helpless. And all you can think about is how bad you want me right here.” The mystery man says right as his hand stops at the apex between your thighs.

Dave tsks, “Now what am I going to find when I lift this pretty little dress up? Huh? Soaked panties? A wet little cunt who wants to be used?” He says in the most condescending voice as he slowly lifts your dress up.

Embarrassed at the fact that he’s right. Your panties are soaked. You can clearly see the wet spot on your white cotton panties you had on. “ I- I uh I don’t d-don’t k-know-ow” you barely even stammer out, words completely lost to you.

“You y-you d-don’t know-ow?” He mimics your stuttering words, “oh princess I think you do know. I think you know just how bad you want me to touch you right now. How bad you want me to use my fingers, my cock to make this wet little cunt feel good. I thought you were gonna be my good girl? Good girls are honest and beg the bad men to fuck their cunts.”

You swear you damn near cum just from his words alone. “ I- I uh I . . “ you still can’t even get words out. As you try your hardest to find words, the mystery man oh so slowly takes his forefinger and runs it up and down your clothed pussy. Making you throb even more just from the light touch.

“ I- I want you to fuck me. Please.” You say as you look down, unable to look this man in the eye. You can’t believe you even said that. You don’t know who this man is, don’t know his name, you’re still tied up to a bed somewhere you don’t even know. What is wrong with you?

“There’s my good girl.” He practically croons as he starts to slowly pull your panties down.

He grabs your chin, forcing you to look up at him, “Now listen to me and listen carefully. The better you are for me and do what I say, the better all of this is going to be for you.”

“ Yes sir.” You said. On the inside, however, you’re speechless. What is even happening right now? Who gets off on being kidnapped and wants to fuck their captor?? Nothing in life has ever prepared you for this or even made you think a situation like this would ever even occur.

The mystery man’s hand leaves your face and goes to his belt and begins unbuckling his pants. All you can do is sit there, arms above your head, neck at a weird half up position and stare as he pulls his thick cock out. Your eyes widen as you see what exactly he had hidden in his pants. That is easily the biggest dick you’ve ever seen. It’s a good 7 inches if not more. Girthy as hell, a huge prominent vein. The head is a tanned pink and slows changes to a darker tan shade down the shaft. You can barely make out dark curls around the base but for the most part you can tell this man keeps it nice and trimmed down there. You had no idea he was gonna pull out a damn horse cock. And why is it making your mouth water?

The mystery man spits in his hand as he goes to stroke himself while his other hand goes back up to your pussy and slowly starts to circle your clit. Everything about this is so wrong but he feels so good.

Unable to stop yourself, you moan out loud, “Please” you croak out. Not sure what your asking for, just knowing you want more.

All he does is chuckle at your request. But nonetheless his forefinger makes it way down to your opening and dips inside. Just barely entering your wet heat and it has you on the verge of tears. After a couple of teases, Dave inserts his middle and ring finger into your pussy.

Oh the relief! Your whole body heats up from how good his fingers feel moving in and out of you. Maybe there is a god. Maybe this big, bad man is merciful.

After thrusting his fingers inside your sweet little heaven, Dave moves his hand away from your pussy and goes to stand up next to the bed, causing his dick to be right in your face.

“ You want a taste pretty girl? Go ahead stick your tongue out baby”

You do what he says quickly. It’s almost comical how fast you stuck your tongue and boy did he notice. Your starting to believe nothing gets by him. Except one thing. Your restraints. They’re tight but not tight enough. All you had to do was wiggle them just so and you’ve managed to loosen them up even more.

Dave takes his cock in hand and sits the head on your tongue. He gives it a little thrust while you do your best to swirl your tongue around the tip. Dropping your jaw wide open, he takes that as you want more and thrusts his cock half way in. The sudden intrusion caused you to gag around his cock, sending spit and drool down your chin.

He keeps thrusting into your mouth despite your gagging. It seems to only be turning him on even more seeing your teary eyes look up at him.

“Fuck princess. Your sweet little mouth feels like heaven.” Dave moans out as his eyes roll back.

That’s when you decide to take control of the situation. With your hands loose, you yank down, freeing yourself and bite down hard. A metallic taste floods into your mouth and you know you’ve drawn blood.

Dave’s enjoyment is cut abruptly when you bite his dick. He falls backward trying to get his dick out of your mouth and slips on his pants. You jump up off the bed and manage to get past him while he’s on the floor cussing, trying to nurse his injured cock.

You bolt out the bedroom door to reveal an open floor space. You quickly realize your now in the living room and make a dash towards what you think is the front door. After a few seconds of desperately trying to unlock it, you finally get it and bust out the front door onto the porch and down the stairs. From the looks of it, you’d say it’s probably about 6 or 7 o’clock in the evening. The suns going down, you might have another hour of light left. But you don’t care. You run full speed into the woods in front of you. All you know is the mystery man took you, brought you to a cabin in the middle of the woods, night is approaching and you’ve just escaped his clutches.

After running what felt like hours in no particular direction, you start to feel yourself tripping over sticks and leaves. You immediately start to fall to the side when you crash into a tree shoulder first. As you steady yourself and try your best to take deep breaths while also catching your breath is when you hear him.

“Sweetheart come on out. You and I both know you don’t know where you are but I do. I know these woods like the back of my hand.” he shouted out. The mystery man sounds close. You start to move as fast as you can without making a sound, practically holding your breath so you don’t get caught. You’ve managed a fast half walk half run from tree to tree, frantically moving your head all around to make sure you don’t see him coming towards you. As your hiding behind a rather large tree you decide to take a quick second and look from behind it to see if you can see him or not. When suddenly you hear a twig snap right behind you and that’s when you feel a large hand yank you by your hair, pulling you backwards into the mystery man himself.

Wrapping his other arm around you tight, with a death grip on your hair, he leans down by your ear and whispers “Gotcha.”

“You little fucking bitch. You bit my dick. I was being nice and showing you some mercy because you were being such a little slut and you bit. My. Dick. Now your gonna see the monster that I really am.” Dave growled in your ear.

With that he keeps a tight hold you as he shoves you down on the ground, belly first. His body following yours, Dave puts his full weight on top of you. With his hand still grabbing your hair, he pushes your face into the dirt and manages to lift your dress with his other hand.

“If you try anything else I swear to god I’ll make this even worse for you.” He spat on the side of your face as he pulls himself out of his pants. He quickly spits into his hand, lubing his cock up and thrusts into your still wet pussy. Fucking hell his cock splits you open. You have no time to get used to his cock inside of you before he’s thrusting like a mad man. You swear you can feel him in your stomach. Thank god for his ministrations from earlier because there is no way in hell you could’ve taken all of him without it.

“Such a fucking dirty little slut. I can feel this cunt squeeze my cock sweetheart. Don’t try and lie to me. You fucking love this.” Dave growls at you while his massive cock pounds your poor pussy. And he’s right. You do love this. The way his cock is splitting you open. The delicious way he’s forcing your pussy to take every inch. Even his body weight on top of you is making you gush around him. Both of you grunting, you from trying to get away and him from pounding the life out of your pussy.

“Ngh that’s right take this fucking cock slut. Take every fucking inch. Hnnn fuck yes. Fuck. Look at you, already cockdumb. Can’t fucking say a word, just taking it like the filthy little whore you are.” Dave grunts out as he continues to mercilessly fuck your pussy.

His words alone have you creaming. You can’t help but moan. No point in trying to hide it. You know he can feel it. You’re so wet and creamy now from his unrelenting cock. You’re so close, if only he would just touch your clit or you could move your leg just right and get a little friction where you desperately need it. You swear you feel him speed up and after a few more thrusts, you feel him pulse deep inside you.

“Fuck sweetheart. That’s it. Take my fucking load deep in that sweet pussy.” he says panting in your ear. After a few more seconds of him panting in your face, he sits up on his knees, still pinning you to the ground. He puts himself up, stands and yanks you by your hair once again to make you get up.

As he turns you to face him, you realize what a mess he made of you. Tear streaked face, dirt and leaves stuck all over your body and in your hair. Cum trickling down your thighs. The bastard looks you up and down and just smirks.

The walk back to the cabin was quiet. You knew you were fucked. Literally. As soon as the two of you re entered the cabin, he took a left turn instead of going towards the back where the bedroom was. Soon you approached a door with a chain lock. You knew deep in your soul you weren’t making it out of here alive. After unlocking the door, he opened it to reveal a set of stairs going down to what you assumed must be the basement.

Dave tightens his grip on your hair as he guides you down the stairs in front of him. Once you both reach the bottom, he turns you to the right and all you can see is a damp, dark basement. Two little basement windows are the only light source to help you see where you are. Cement walls, some boxes stacked on the far right wall, what looks to be a washer and dryer just a few steps in front of you. He flicks a light switch on, flooding the room with light, causing you to blink real hard because of the sudden harsh light blinding you. Dave continues to be silent as he walks you over to the other side of the boxes to reveal a set of cuffs attached to chains stuck in the cement wall. He lets go of your hair only to shove you down on the ground and put a cuff on each ankle. Wordlessly he chains you up and turns back around to go back upstairs.

“Wait!! Wait! Please don’t leave me down here! I’ll be good I promise!! I’m sorry for earlier! I won’t do it again! Please!!” You begged. You pleaded to him to not leave you only for him to stop and turn to look at you

“It’s too late for that sweetheart. Begging will get you nothing. Your lucky I’m putting you down here when I should take you out back and put a bullet between your pretty eyes.” And with that he turns the light back off and stomps up the stairs, leaving you all the alone.

- I hope y’all enjoy this! My first fic ever! So I’m super nervous lol I do hope it’s good and reads well, the perfectionist in me is saying it’s horrible and delete, delete, delete but I’m not. Im posting it lol but yea if y’all like it I could definitely do a part 2(:

Tagging a few of ya that encouraged me to write this and a few I think would enjoy(:

@toxicanonymity @lumoverheaven @bonezone44 @neverwheremoonchild @wannab-urs @multiversed-daydreamer

#Dave York #proud member of the dave york pit #pedro pascal #dave york x reader #dave york x female reader #the equalizer #dave York smut #dark fic #dead dove 🕊️#my first fic #david york #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal cinematic universe

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rafesgiirl · 1 month

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I'm not a violent dog, I don't know why I bite

summary: rafe can't control his emotions, he doesn't know how to vent, he doesn't even know what's the thing that feels inside of him, until y/n showed up

warnings: ANGST ANGST, mentions of Rafe's dead mother, cursing, mentions of ward being an absolute dick

author's note: THIS IS MY FIRST FIC 😭 I know it sucks, but I tried my best, it's based on a TikTok edit, this one, I hope you like it 😭😭.

word count: around 2000

ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE

rafe cameron has always been seen as an aggressive person, as the one who 'handles the business', as that drug addict kid, as the one who killed sheriff peterkin, the one who had the guts to drown his sister.

few knew the backstory, and those who did... didn't even care.

"rafe cameron is bad" "rafe cameron is aggressive" "rafe cameron is crazy"... what rafe cameron really was was a broken kid, but no one seemed to notice it.

that day everything changed, that day he met the girl of his dreams, pretty face and nice body, a smile to die for, her long eyelashes...

her name was y/n y/l/n, she was a beautiful girl, that anyone would drool over.

"uh.... hi... are you— are you new?" he asked the bright-eyed girl.

"oh! hi! yes, I'm new over here" she laughed, a laugh that could stop wars if only they could hear it. “my name is y/n y/l/n, what is yours?” y/n looked directly into his eyes, as if she was searching for something, he felt intimidated, he felt as if she could see right through him.

“rafe…, ‘s nice to meet ya’” the tone of his voice making clear that he was uncomfortable.

“rafe? that's a beautiful name, it suits you so well!”

“thanks..” he furrowed his brows, who was this girl and why was she so captivating?

“oh! wait! rafe? like in Rafe Cameron???”

shit, she knew who he was, she was probably going to say all the bullshit that he didn't need to hear, but before he even had the chance to walk away, she started rambling.

“oh lord! I can't believe it! your family owns Cameron developments right?? oh god my dad ‘s super friend of yours! that means that we could be friends too, right rafe??” those words slipped from her mouth before she could notice she covered her mouth with her hands and then she giggled. “‘m sorry rafe”

his gaze softened at this girl, she was too sweet, almost innocent. he took a deep breath and smiles softly at her.

“no, ‘s fine, we could be friends… yeah— if you want to, yeah?”

“yey!” was the only thing before she squealed and went away giggling and running.

that girl… that girl had something, something that intrigued rafe.

some months passed by, he and she got along really nice, their families often got together so it made it easier for them to develop a friendship.

y/n and rafe got along just well, hanging out, partying together, laughing and smiling... something that he believed that would end up so wrong. after all, he was rafe fucking cameron, the one and only, he was aggressive, he was a dumbass, he just wanted to snort coke and fight with people, he didn't know better… right?

y/n knew about rafe's problems, about his drug addiction, anger issues, daddy issues, he wanted to be the man, because he didn't he feel heard enough, he needed to shine, but the only thing he did, was screw things up with people.

"y/n are you awake?"

his dark voice sounded in her ear as she picked up the call.

"mhm, is everything alright?" she just woke up, it was 3 in the fucking morning, what does he want?

"just wanted to thank you, do you think I could take you.. uh to The Druthers sometime and.. y'know— hang out, tan together, or play uno?"

"rafe? are you okay? why are you saying this now? it's 3am"

"I'm conscious of that, sweetheart" she could hear laughs on the phone.

"rafe.. are you high?"

"uhm— no, no.. I'm not"

"yeah... well, we'll talk about 'going to The Druthers sometime' okay?"

"yeah, sure" he says with a scoff

"I'm being serious, it's 3 in the fucking morning and I'm really tired, talk to you later, yeah?"

silence invaded the call.

"yeah, sure, the only thing you're going to do later is tell me off for not being at my house, and probably also for being drugged, but who the hell cares? no one, y/n, to no one"

"rafe, stop it"

"yeah, because no one gives a single fuck about me, Sarah? she hates me for— for trying to protect what's mine. my dad?" his voice cracks "he hates me, Sarah is the golden child, what am I to him??"

y/n took a deep breath.

"rafe cameron, the kook prince, the most wanted boy in the outer banks, are you seriously saying this to me??" she giggles "Sarah is stupid, the only thing she has in mind is the fucking gold for the fucking Pogues, so ignore that shit, and your father..." her voice trails off "but people do care about you, what about Topper? or Kelce?"

"and you?" he asks.

"me?"

"yeah— yeah shit, you, do you care about me?"

"why do you ask?"

rafe stays silent, once again "b-because I want to know if you care about me, can you fucking answer?"

"yes"

rafe sighs in relief.

"of course I care about you, you dumbass, I wouldn't be in this call if I didn't care"

"you wanted to leave"

"yes, because it's 3am rafe, please" she laughs again, provoking a laugh from him too.

"yeah" he laughs "it's true, I'll go home now, rest good, yeah?"

"mhm, okay rafe, love you"

"what— what the fuck did you just say?"

she laughs once again "I love you, dummy, be safe, yeah?"

"yeah— yeah, bye"

the call ended.

the next day, they were in The Druthers, she was sitting and looking at the sea, he was laying on her lap, letting her play with the locks of his dirty blonde hair.

"y/n?" rafe said really softly.

"yes rafe?"

"thanks"

she looks down at him "for?"

"for loving me"

"damn Rafe, you're doing it wrong.. come here" she helps him sit and she embraces him.

"you help me a fucking lot, y/n and I really want to thank you" he sounded SO pussy whipped, but he didn't care

"I don't do anything, Rafey, it's okay, yeah?"

"I.. damn.. I sometimes feel things in my insides and— and— I just don't know how to fuckin' control 'em, you got me?"

"yes, I understand, what kind of things do you feel?" she said removing her sunglasses from her nose, to put them next to the blonde.

"I don't feel anger, it's a weird feeling, it's more like.." and he goes quiet.

he starts gesturing things with his hands, only provoking a giggle on her.

"don't laugh, I'm— I'm being serious, you spoiled thing"

"I just feel rage, I feel sadness.. I don't feel anger" he says, his baby blue eyes locked with hers, he lays now on his back, looking at the sky, becoming silent.

"I... sometimes think about my mother, and how disappointed would she be if she discovered who I am right now. that I'm not that small child full of giggles and smiles, now I'm.." his voice trails off as he sits, giving her back to her, his voice obviously cracking just at the thought of his mother.

"rafe.." she says, furrowing her brows in worry and placing a small hand on the back of his shoulder.

"my friends think I like to fight." he takes a pause, inhaling deeply "but it's just not true— I mean, yeah, sometimes I lose my temper and blow off a little steam. but I never enjoyed it"

he wipes one of the tears threatening to fall, and he gulps.

"I'm not a violent dog." he turns to face her, his eyes full of tears.

"I don't know why I bite..."

her eyes were sad, looking at him, she was genuinely worried about him, she just embraced him and let him cry on her shoulder.

"they don't deserve you, rafe, they don't..." y/n says with all the delicacy in the world.

"you're too much for them, you're kind and smart, and... you're beautiful, in your insides.."

"I'm sure your mother understands you, your father doesn't because he's messed up in the fucking head, but I understand you, rafe"

rafe looks at her, frowning and looking at her in disbelief "how can you even understand me, how can you even love me, huh??"

"I just do, your heart.. your heart says things that your mouth doesn't, I know your looks, rafe, when you boil, you're not angry... the sadness turns to aggressiveness"

"you can't say that, you don't know me like I know myself" he says again in a broken voice.

"I could try to know you if you wanted me to" she adds with a smile.

he looks at her in disbelief, still frowning "what if I hurt you? like I hurted Sarah, or Wheezie that time when I grabbed her arm and left bruises on her arm for a week” he starts to ramble.

“shh, rafe, it's okay, you won't hurt me, I want to do this, I want to be there for you”

“I don't understand why”

“because I love you” she says quietly, slowly leaning to take his hand.

“I love you, rafe Cameron”

the tears in his eyes disappeared and then they turned even brighter, he smiles and nods.

“I— I love you too y/n”

#my first fic #im so sorry lol #rafe fic #rafe cameron #angst #rafe x reader #rafe angst #yn

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romamoff · 2 months

Text

Love is for children.

Pairing: ? 😊 Warnings: none, than it being my first fic and maybe not the best! Word count: 2.5k

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Peace. The assassin didn’t quite expect to feel peace in this situation. Yet she felt calmness and warmth spread through her whole being, filling every fiber of her body and every piece of her soul and mind. Where once were racing cruel thoughts, now settled silence. Her green eyes fell back on the other redhead of the team, currently occupied with her face only inches away from the humanoid toaster. Vision had his hands on her hips. There was a time where Natasha wished that those were her hands… but it's not her place anymore to think like that. So now, as she watches Wanda’s arms snake themselves around his neck, a shallow smile spreads across her lips and she simply turns around and leaves the kitchen again, not wanting to intrude… at least that is what she tells herself.

So apparently a broken heart isn’t as bad as people make it seem all the time. Cause after all… Love is for children. It's this thought that brought a solemn calmness into the russian. But Clint's voice suddenly cuts through the silence within her mind. “Natasha? Are you okay? What happened?” A frown forms on Natasha’s forehead as though she didn’t quite understand why his blueish-green eyes watched her with sorrow and concern. He reached out and took something of her cheek. Confusion made its way onto Natasha’s expression. But as she turned away from his strange gesture and threw a quick glance back over her shoulder her confusion vanished: as she watched Wanda now smile at Vision, whatever she was trying to tell herself made no sense anymore. Love is for children. It wasn’t the thought that calmed her, it was the wishful thinking that everybody had that thought.

No. They didn’t think like that. Wanda clearly didn’t think like that. Wanda, who smiled softly at Vision with teary eyes as if he held all the stars. Wanda clearly didn’t believe that love is for children. Wanda clearly was in love. But not with her… not with Natasha… not with me. And now all the calmness and silence in her exploded into chaos. Her heart pounded against her ribcage as if it tried to punch some sense into her. She heard her blood rush through her ears and her mouth suddenly became dry. Swallowing around a huge lump in her throat, she faced away again and fixed her eyes on one of her closest friends again. Clint reached out again and this time the former spy knew what he was getting off her cheek: tears.

She tried to tell him that she was fine and that there was nothing wrong, but her body didn’t cooperate anymore. The emotions that suddenly broke through were absolutely unfamiliar to the Widow, who grew up suppressing nearly every emotion in her body. The flood of her own feelings began to drown her: her breathing became erratic and shallow at the same time. Her chest tightened and it felt like someone poured melted steel into her insides. She felt like her blood froze in her veins and her lungs were filled with cotton, leaving no room to breathe properly. Panic filled the redhead at her own state, that now was completely out of her control. A situation completely unfamiliar and strange to the disciplined and usually put together spy.

Luckily Clint seemed to understand what was going on and grabbed her. He laid her arm across his shoulders and supported her weight at her hip, to get her quickly out of there. His heart broke for Natasha. Of course he understood what was going on even without Natasha voicing it. Any person with eyes would catch on to the situation… and he wasn’t surprised. The archer had suspected for a while that his former target was madly in love with the younger witch. Love is for children… yeah sure. He had seen the way she looked at her… the way she made sure the younger woman was safe in their missions… the way her eyes stayed on Wanda just that few seconds too long.

Clint rushed the now sobbing woman into her own room. He knew that the spy would feel safer in her secured, well known, own safe space. With efficient and precise steps the pair made it over to the bed on one of the walls. As soon as they hit the mattress to sit down, everything inside Natasha broke. Every pent up emotion. Every feeling she pushed down. Every thought she didn’t acknowledge. One of her hands shot out of reflex up to her mouth, but to no avail: heavy sobs wracked her frame and echoed through the silence. Heaving deep breaths, she tried to regulate her stuttering breathing and regain some control. But her chest felt tight and her throat closed up on itself. She looked up at Clint with a pleading look on her face. The worry was clearly etched on his face, although to Natasha it looked unfocused as her vision got blurry by her own tears, which kept flowing down her cheeks.

Without a second thought Clint gathered one of his best friends in his arms. Even his own body started to shake with the force of the redheads’ sobs and his heart broke for Natasha all over again. Carefully he guided Natasha’s head onto his shoulder and leant his cheek on the top of her head. “We will get you through this Nat.” He murmured quietly. But that just seemed impossible to Natasha right now. She was flooded with so many conflicting emotions at once, it made her head spin and she felt dizzy and sick to her stomach. Actually, she felt her stomach turning and bile rising up her throat. Too fast for Clint to follow, the widow bolted into her own bathroom and next thing he knew, he heard her retch her guts out. But before he could sprint into action, a voice by the door made him freeze on the spot. “Natasha..?”

Unbeknownst to Clint and Natasha their abrupt exit alerted Wanda and Vision. The young sokovian must’ve grown curious to know what was wrong, cause right now she is standing in Natasha’s doorway with a worried and slightly confused look on her soft features. Clint almost gave himself whiplash with how fast his head snapped from the bathroom door to the young witch. “Wanda!” he proclaimed a bit too loud as his body jolted off the mattress and towards the young woman. His only concern right now to protect Natasha… and Wanda seeing her like this was probably the opposite of what was good for Natasha.

Green, concerned eyes searched the room, before landing on the bathroom and then fixing themselves back on the archer. “Clint, what is going on? Is Nat okay?” she asked and tried to wriggle past him into the room. But the older man gently grabbed her shoulders and threw a quick glance in the direction of the bathroom as Natasha seemed to throw up again, oblivious to what was going on in her room. “uhm… uh… yes, she just went a bit too hard on training today. You know how she can be!” He tried to brush the witches' concerns off with a half hearted chuckle. But to his misfortune Wanda wasn’t having any of it and her eyebrows scrunched in worry and a bit of confusion. Yes, Natasha was known to train really hard. But she would never risk any more harm to her body, since she is dead set on the fact that it was her strongest weapon… which might be true, but that’s beside the point!

“Oh, come on… she wouldn’t risk that. Is she sick? What’s wrong?” she inquired and pressed further. Clint actually had to apply some force now to hold her back and decided to try a different approach. “Wanda, come on. You know she wouldn’t want anyone to see her like this. She would hate that!” It seemed to do the trick, cause Wanda actually faltered in her movement and looked back at him. A fleeting look of understanding ghosted over her face but - to Clint's misery – she brushed it off and her concern for Natasha won over. “Clint please… I just want to know if she’s okay.” Wanda cringed at that… obviously Natasha was not okay, but her brain was riddled with worry and this was the only sentence she came up with.

“Is my help required?” came a voice from the hallway. Clint couldn’t help the groan that broke free as his eyes landed on the humanoid robot who definitely was not helping Natasha right now. “NO!” his voice boomed and surprised everyone… including himself. He was usually not known for outbursts, but could you blame him right now? But what really perplexed him, was the reaction of the young auburn haired woman in front of him. Wanda calmly looked back at Vision, muttering a “No, thank you.” and dismissed him with a rather cold expression. But what really threw Clint off, was the fact that Vision just nodded without a visible reaction, turned and went back the way he came from. Could this be any more confusing and chaotic?

“Wha… Wanda?” Of course! A big sigh, followed by a deep inhale came from the archer as he turned around to see that Natasha had apparently finished throwing up and was now standing there with red, puffy eyes and a horrified expression on her face. He immediately let go of Wanda and positioned himself between the two women, his back facing the witch. Natasha just looked past him, mouth agape and eyes wide in embarrassment. “Do you feel better now? Man, that chicken sandwich must’ve gone really bad!” he tried his best to offer an explanation and an excuse to Natasha. “I… uhm… yea…” she stuttered out between irregular breaths and quickly averted her eyes from Wanda back to Clint, after new tears threatened to spill upon seeing the young witch she fell so deeply for.

But leave it to Wanda to stay worried and not budging a single second. She was by Clint's side in an instance and fixed the russian with a determined, piercing glance. Natasha couldn’t help but gulp at her sudden closeness. “Don’t make me read your thoughts. I’m so worried Nat! That was the third excuse he came up with… Please..?” The young witch pleaded and laid a tender hand on Natasha’s still shaking shoulder. Clint just gave up and accepted the fact that his attempts on fixing this chaos just wouldn’t help. He stood upright and offered a small smile to Natasha. “I’ll leave you some space. I’ll be in the living room if you need anything.” The Archer turned and left the room, quietly shutting the door behind him to at least offer some privacy for his best friend.

Natasha on the other hand was very tempted to just bolt after him and get the hell out of here. But the more logical part of her brain knew damn well that she couldn’t run now anymore. Wanda wouldn’t let go of this that easily and she had to face her eventually. That still didn’t help the anxiety rising inside her like a storm. Her hands grew sweaty and began to shake as she gestured towards her bed as a signal for Wanda to take a seat. The younger witch followed that immediately and sat down gently. Natasha used the second to close her eyes shut for a second and fight down the nauseous feeling that made a comeback in her stomach. Here goes nothing.

She took a deep breath and turned to sit next to the sokovian. “Wanda…” she gritted out, but didn’t get much further as her nerves took over and her voice broke on that one word. The witch reacted on instinct and grabbed a hold of Natasha’s still shaking hand. That one point of contact set up a variety of reactions inside Natasha: she felt a tingling sensation radiating from her hand and warmth spread into her whole body. A calmness settled back in her mind, but it had a bittersweet feeling to it and Natasha had to swallow a lump in her throat back down. She took a shuddering breath and angled her body, so she could face Wanda and she saw nothing but empathy and concern in her eyes.

Natasha actually felt her cheeks heat up, probably for the first time in her life and for a second she sits dumbfounded. Worry etched itself on Wanda’s face and she mistook Natasha’s silence for unease. “Nat… it's going to be okay. Just take your time. Do you need me to leave?” the witch spoke quietly and averted her eyes again. That seemed to pull the russian out of her trance and she physically shook off her thoughts. “No!” came the abrupt reply and Wanda’s eyes snapped back up to meet green ones again. “I… I mean, no. Please don’t leave. I need… I mean… I need to talk to you about something.” She rambled on, before she took a deep breath. “говно, why is this so hard…” Natasha murmured to herself.

“Okay, here goes nothing…” Natasha fixed her gaze on Wanda’s. If she is going to do this, she is going to do it right. Wanda deserves that. “I didn’t eat something bad…” “Yeah, figured that.” The witch cut in. “Sorry… keep going.” She added a bit sheepish and Natasha couldn’t help the fleeting smile that passed her lips, but it got swallowed by her anxiety rather quickly. “I… I saw you with Vision in the kitchen earlier..” she admitted with a defeated, shallow and broken tone in her quivering voice. The younger sokovian looked genuinely confused about that statement. “Okay… so?” Wanda wasn’t sure at all how to react to that statement.

Natasha suddenly stood up frustrated at herself and paced the room in front of the witch, feeling the need to move her anxiety ridden muscles. “I was told love is for children! My whole life I believed in that!” Wanda decided to stay quiet at that and just let Natasha get whatever it was off her chest first. “Love would make me weak! Love would give others the chance to break me! But Wanda…” Natasha seemed to wrestle with herself and a deep sigh left her mouth. “Wanda… pushing it down and losing it is what truly broke me…” The younger woman watched her intently and something inside her grew curious at that. Natasha took a few seconds to gather her next words carefully. But every rational thought had left her body and she decided to just go through with it. “Wanda… I fell for you. Love is not for children…” Suddenly a flood of emotions mixed on the witches’ face: curiosity, nerves, anxiety, empathy… but… hope? … happiness?

~A/N: I really hope it wasn't too bad!! I'd love to hear from you how you liked it! 😊

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slasherfckr · 1 year

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😭😭😭 I have no idea what the hell happened to the ask in my inbox. I might have deleted it or something. I'm so sorry about that 😔 Still trying to figure out how Tumblr works tbh. I hope you like this fic though :)

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Bo Sinclair x Fem!Reader - Better than Words

"Hey Bo?" You smiled. The man fiddling around with spare car in the garage didn't bother turning towards you.

"Hm?"

"Did you think we could get Jonesy a friend?"

The mechanic stopped what he was doing and turned towards you.

"What?"

"Get Jonesy a friend. Do you think he ever gets lonely being the only dog in Ambrose? I know he usually spends his time with Vincent or Lester but I know I would be lonely if I were the only person here."

Bo shook his head.

"I don't fucking know (Y/N). Why don't you make yourself useful and hand me the wrench?" He went back to focusing on the car, holding his hand out for the tool he asked for. Without missing a beat, you went over and retrieved the wrench. It was dead silent minus the sounds of Bo working on the car for a few until you couldn't stand it anymore.

"Did you know a baby puffin is called a puffling? And it's parent can hold, like, 10 fish in its mouth at once so it can feed it's baby. But the largest amount a puffin was recorded to have carried was 62 fish at once."

"The fuck you talking about woman?"

You let out a small giggle.

"Just stating some animal facts. It's just soooo quiet. Can't stand it." You complained.

"Then why don't you go check up on Vincent or something? I think I'm done here with the car and-"

Just then the phone rang. Bo grabbed a rag from the table next to him and wiped his hands before going to answer the phone in the other room. There was really only one person it could be. Wasn't long at all before Bo was back with you and the car.

"Was Lester. Said he got some people coming out this way. Better stay here and help me instead. Vinny can wait."

You and Bo went to the main room of the work shop, waiting for the guests to arrive. As Bo sat behind the counter, reading a magazine, you couldn't help but watch as his blue eyes scanned the pages. Sweat from working on the car still beading down his face, making a few brown curls from his hair stick to his temple. You wanted him so bad. You would imagine the two of you together, bodies intertwined in his bed. Or something more tame, such as you and him going out for drinks. The only thing stopping you from confessing to him was the tiny sliver of self-doubt in the back of your mind on if he would actually feel the same about you.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw movement. You turned and there was a man and woman at the door. The man appeared to be in his 50's while the girl appeared to be around your age. Father and daughter perhaps? Either way, you smiled and greeted them as you let them in.

"Hey sorry to bother you guys. Our car broke down and we were looking to buy the parts needed to fix it up so we can get back on the road again?"

"Yeah yeah it's no problem at all. That's what we're here for, ain't it? Here, (Y/N), why don't you go show the man where he can find the parts for his car?"

You smiled at Bo as you grabbed the man's arm and lead him to the back. Except you went further than the back. You took him and led him downstairs of the garage.

"Sorry we had to go down here. Parts are kept downstairs and out of the shop itself so thieves aren't as keen to rob the place, ya know?" You kept the smile on your face as you turned on the light in the room.

"Think I should go back upstairs. Just head on up once you find the parts so we can get you guys back on the road." You waved at the man and left, locking the door behind you so he couldn't escape what was currently on its way to him.

When you got back upstairs, though, your heart sank. You were met with Bo flirting with the daughter. Her back was up against a wall as Bo hovered over her.

"You know, doll? This heat wave we hot here ain't got noth'n on you." The girl laughed and put her hand on Bo's shoulder.

"You think so? Maybe we could go somewhere more.... private so I could show you how hot I can really get? Hm?"

Despite feeling your world crumbling, you managed to hold everything together and hide it all underneath a big smile. You then coughed to get their attention. The girl and Bo split, with the girl looking down at the floor and Bo looking elsewhere but her.

"So did he find everything he needed, (Y/N)?"

"Yep." You said cheerily. "He's just waiting on you now."

Bo nodded and took the girl downstairs with him to finish off the job.

You had left while Bo worked with Vincent to take care of the mess. While they were doing their chores, Lester had come home. He surprised you with fresh ingredients from the next town over. All the stuff to make venison stew. You were delighted as you could now make a stew you had promised the boys you'd make one day. You and Lester quickly got to work on making dinner, joking and messing around while doing so but you couldn't get fully into it. You couldn't help but think back to Bo and that girl. What if he didn't kill her? What if he fucked her and ended up bringing her back here to the house? What would happen to you then? Would Bo even need your help anymore? Your heart sank further than it already was thinking at the possibilities. Lester knew something was up but before he could ask, Bo walked in.

Bo's suit was covered in blood and by the looks of it, it was his own. He immediately took a seat in the living room.

"(Y/N) could you get the goddamn medkit?"

You did as you were told. Bo ended up having a nasty gash on his left arm. Thankfully it wasn't bad enough to need stitches but you were still going to have to apply some disinfectant and bandages, which was going to be fun. Bo never handled getting disinfectant put on well. It was like taking a toddler to the doctor for a shot. You quickly sat next to Bo and pulled some bandages and the disinfectant out of the medkit.

"Gotta hold still now, okay? Don't want a repeat of last time you got hurt. Almost took my hand off" You joked.

"Damn it, (Y/N). How many times do I gotta say I'm sorr-FUCK!" Bo hissed and immediately pulled his arm away from you. "Goddamn that hurt!"

"I haven't even applied the disinfectant yet, Bo." You raised an eyebrow at him.

You pulled his arm back towards you and gently dabbed a cotton ball soaked with the disinfectant on his wound. Bo hissed again but didn't have a huge outburst like the first time.

"See? Wasn't so bad, right?" You smiled up at him from the floor.

"Yeah, whatever..." He grumbled.

"So how did this even happen, Bo?"

"Was noth'n (Y/N)."

"Doesn't seem like nothing considering....this." You gestured to his arm. Bo gave you a look which made you quickly drop the subject. "Here come on and get up. Lester and I just finished dinner. I'll grab you a bowl while Lester brings one down to Vincent."

You fixed up two bowls, one for you and the other for Bo. After a bite, Bo's face lit up.

"Holy sweet Jesus, (Y/N). You weren't kidding when you said you could make some good damm stew."

Hearing him compliment your cooking lifted your spirits up, which brought a huge smile to your face.

"Thank you, Bo."

The rest of the meal was ate in silence. Normally you'd be chatting up a storm with Bo but you haven't had a nice, home cooked meal made with fresh ingredients in so long. You just wanted to savor this moment for as long as possible.

When you both were done, you grabbed his bowl and yours and brought it over to the sink to start dishes.

"It was her."

"What?"

"That woman. In the shop. She did this." Bo gestured to his bandaged arm.

"Oh. Her loss I guess. She had an incredibly handsome guy flirting with her and she decided to attack him. Not what I would have done."

You froze when you felt hot breath come down on the back of your neck.

"Did I hear that right, (Y/N)? 'An incredibly handsome guy?' 'Not what I would have done?' So what would you have done then?" Bo leaned down so his mouth was right at your ear. You were completely frozen in place; couldn't move at all. You felt like a trapped sheep, cornered by the big bad wolf. Your face quickly grew a deep shade of red.

"I-I, uh...I would have..." Your words got caught in your throat. A deep chuckle came from behind you.

"Turn around and face me." You did as you were told. You weren't that much smaller in height than Bo but goddamn did you feel incredibly tiny in that moment. Before you could do or say anything else, you felt Bo's rough lips on yours. You kissed back and soon felt his arms around your waist before he pulled away from the kiss.

"(Y/N) you're not very subtle. I hope you know that. You didn't think I wouldn't notice you staring at me back at the shop? Could see you turning 30 different shades of red then." Bo laughed.

"But that girl..."

"Yeah so? You'd think I'd actually go after someone like that?" He rolled his eyes. "Wasn't even close to my type."

He went down by your ear again and nipped it, earning a small moan from you.

"She was way too quiet. You on the other hand..." Bo took your hand and led you out of the kitchen and up to his room.

"I want you to show me what you'd do, (Y/N). Really show me."

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Ahhhh this was my first fic. I hope everyone who reads it enjoys it! Especially Sketchy-rosewitch!

#bo sinclair #bo sinclair x y/n #bo sinclair x female reader #bo sinclair x reader #house of wax #vincent sinclair #lester sinclair #slasher x reader #slasher x you #slasher x y/n #slashers #slasher fucker #my first fic

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aaronofithaca05 · 20 days

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The first night

Odysseus retelling of his first night in Ithaca, (part 1)

In the first night she asked with the warmest voice

- Let me love be your soul, let my voice be your voice, let us be together in bliss.

I tried to punch, to escape, but She…

took my fist and twirled below it, her eyes ignited, her face became a flame, and before knowing, vines. Warm and soft vines blossomed around me, i tried to fight but with a movement of wrist my legs... they became limp.

I fell on the warm scented bed while as the gracious nymph that she was, twirled her warm fingers to my chin as she kissed my head. In a moment my moist eyes, where dried, my hands embracing her, my lisps, ready, while I was drowning away in my own tears; then she said:

-Let your tears be swept away by my embrace, let your cries become laughs and strength, let your shouts become a kiss and your fists a hug. Let me be your home my dear and no one separates us no more.

My hands encircled her skin, her dewy warm embrace, her blazing embrace, while I was drowning away. A voice that wasn't mine, not from the my heart but the throat, came :

-I love you, love.

And then black it was and for 7 years the norm it became.

But last night, HORRIBLE NIGHT, I dreaded it as I saw our bed, our olive bed.

- I despise you stars, I despise you moon as the flowers that enveloped me before, cowards!, witnesses of my pain, your dim light never forgets, my cries and hopes for the rosy dawn again, why do you want me to stay in hell?, I thought.

But something was odd, the cold, the breeze among the olives twigs, the scent of rain…, the coarse linen, the translucent veil… but SHE WAS THERE

I only saw her face on you my joy , as you tended me on our bed, your rosy fingers in my chest, the chest…, how you stroke my skin in that way, how you played with my hair…and then:

-My love.

My body became still, my gaze disturbed, the room, the twigs, it was again stone, the warmth, the flush, the vines, the smile, the pain...

Her face

-You´re with me dear, there´s nothing to fear.

The touch, the kiss, the strokes, the forehead, the hands, the talk that wasn´t my own, it was all again, the same…

But, no. I felt water on my eyes, my beard, my mouth didn´t form a smile, no, it was a cry of help. from deep inside it rosed:

BUT GODDESS PLEASE, OH GRACIOUS NYMPH, PLEASE NO MORE, PENELOPE MY JOY, I CAN´T I JUST CAN´T!!!!! FORGIVE ME DEAR, FORGIVE MY JOY!!!!!!

And everything was cold again. SALT, I tasted salt, sweet salt, the cold again, no warmth, only a figure in distress. It was YOU; as you ran towards the candle I saw no stone, only flowers and twigs not vines; I saw your work, your shade.

How I didn't saw joy nor lust, I saw FEAR, I saw PAIN, I saw a Flame. Not the moon, not the vines not the stone of her lair, no, it was cold again.

How you rushed towards me, crying, cold, coarse, how your skin wasn't plump, how your voice broked, how your eyes were filled with tears, how you let them free, how you screamed:

Odysseus, please I´m here, you can count on me!

And there I was, with you I saw my hands, my arms, my legs. My voice, it was me not him.

I was still and the she appeared again in my thoughts, rosy as the dawn, volouptous hair as water in the rain.

-In the night? my will is only for the day, how can I speak, what´s the new spell you placed on me? WHY ARE YOU TORMENTING ME AGAIN? ISN´T THIS WHAT YOU WANTED? DON´T TORTURE ME ENOUGH WITH HOME PLEASE, LET THE DARKNESS EMBRACE MY BROKEN BONES, LET THE WARMTH TAKE OVER ME!.

So raw i shouted that the walls might have even collapsed, I saw how the stone gave way to twigs, how the rocks birthed the starry night, how the lines of stone became leaves, how she transformed like morning mist.

Her voice cracked, her hair dulled, her eyes in silver they became, her smile changed into fear. It was real it was really YOU, your pain as you touched my hair, it was you and I under OUR olive bed.

I rose from the dead, to rush towards you joy, you were AFRAID not of me but of him, the husk of the man i became there.

How with your gentle hands you touched my cheeks, and face to face I see, for the first time: your cries.

I felt how your dim warmth gave way to tear, who you didn´t close you eyes as I faced away. How I was home.

#odysseus #the odyssey #greek mythology #homer #penelope #olive bed #odypen #angst #my first fic

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freakingmeout28 · 5 months

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Hey everyone 🩵

I just posted my first fic ever and I'm so excited. Can't wait for you to read it.

I try to post two chapters every week so it is a WIP but I already finished writing it!

Let me know what you think about it!

#larry fanfiction #larry fic #one direction #louis tomlinson #harry styles #ao3 #larry stylinson #larry stylinson fanfiction #my first fic #I'm beyond nervous to ne honest #harrystyles #one direction fandom #louis and harry #larries #larry fic rec #louis tomilson

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hymnofmistral · 1 month

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So, I'm trying something out, making social cards for my fic Fragments. Planning to make more as I find time to do so. The remaining ones I want to do, would be: Makoto (Yuuki), Futaba, Mitsuru, Ann, Sumire, maybe Rise, Yosuke, we shall see...

(Each of these represents Akechi's links from what's posted thus far.)

*Message me if you wanna chat or want the link to the discord group!

(oh, btw, I did a lot of my own customization and even painting over things and organizing my own designs, altering stuff... but I take ref/ sample material from online here and there, so not claiming all of it as my art.)

#p5r au #my first fic #renren #あまみやれん #akeshu #あけちごろ #akechi goro #ren amamiya #persona5 #reis cafe #yu narukami #art #persona art #persona 5 au #persona 5 royal #fragments

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solarconstellations · 1 month

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posted my first fic and it’s scary to put yourself out there. simultaneously hoping people read it and also scared for when they do.

first two chapters are up! it’s a jegulus summer camp au where the marauders are all working at a camp for the summer - read it here

if u leave comments/kudos i’ll love you forever, okay byeeeee.

#wolfstar #jegulus #jegulus fic #jegulus fic rec #jegulus fanfiction #marauders #marauders fanfiction #dorlene #ao3 #ao3 fanfic #ao3 writer #my first fic #please go easy on me #starchaser #sunseeker #starchaser fic #sunseeker fic #fic rec #my fic

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monbons · 2 months

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Kill 'Em With Kindness

I wrote a thing for @erotic-grope-fest that is mostly wholesome and just a little gropey.

Rated: T

Word Count: ~6k

Summary:

Simon’s been stalking me again, stuck to me like a shadow, but it’s felt decidedly different than fifth year. No glares. No smoky, rage-fueled magick. No accusations of plotting. Just thoughtful glances and kindness after kindness after...

I feel my breath turn sharp and ragged.

Is this it? Am I already dying?

Or: Baz is a puddle of sadness. Dev and Niall don’t seem to care. Simon can’t stand any of it. Shenanigans ensue.

Read it on AO3.

#snowbaz #tyrannus basilton grimm pitch #baz pitch #simon snow #my first fic #happy birthday baz #its not his birthday in the story #just a humble gift

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kenobicoffee · 7 months

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Lavender Haze (by @kenobicoffee) a josh x reader fic (18+ MDNI)

A/N: It’s taken forever, but it’s here! Yay! Lemme know what I can do to get better, and leave a comment if you liked it!

Word Count: 3k, ~20 min read

Outline: You and Josh are getting high and watching music videos when you both get a little bit too turned on. Passionate making out leads to Josh asking very politely to eat you out while sitting on the couch as he jerks himself off to completion.

Trigger Tags: cussing, drug use (weed), period sex, oral - f receiving, masturbation, praise kink, sub Josh if you squint

Vibe Tags: romantic, eye contact, the FLUFFiest of smut, goofy ahh shenanigans, heavy musician vibes, lots of foreplay (patience is a virtue) theatrekid!Josh, poetry💕

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“This is officially worse than the blankets,” you said as the soft Tennessee rain pattered away while the last track of an LP faded with a click. Josh sat up from his reclined position on the couch next to you, the warm glow of a lamp forming a halo around his sepia curls.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” he retorted, his buzz accentuating the midwestern drawl. He took another lazy drag of the joint you two had been sharing for the evening, and you shifted to look at him. Your gaze fell on the curve of his profile, and as he exhaled, you wondered for the millionth time what angelic painting he’d fallen out of to bring him here. Just seeing him lie there in the light of the evening made that pit in your stomach travel lower and lower, and you had to look away before your mind wandered too far where it shouldn’t go.

“Oh nothing,” you teased, arms crossed, “Just that I’m always cold at two a.m. when I wake up to find Puck has stolen all my blankets.”

It was this kind of banter that made him feel like home to you, like all of human history and art encapsulated his smile.

“How dare you besmirch the name of Mr. Goodfellow?” His voice had a regal air that might have sounded Shakespearian had his eyes not been half shut. “In this house? Blasphemy!”

“Joshua Michael, you are hogging that joint, and you know it.”

You stretched out your hand as he took one last dramatic pull, making sure to look extra innocent as he exhaled.

“I’m sorry mama,” he grinned, murmuring apologetically. “I’ll be good now, I promise. You want me to put another record on?”

“Absolutely not,” you said, “You’ll scratch it like you did the Bon Iver EP.”

He shrugged amiably and reached for the tv remote, “Guess we’ll do it the old fashioned way then.”

After several slow-motion clicks, he managed to open the Youtube app and a lyric visualizer for a psychedelic pop group began to play. You closed your eyes and breathed in deep, your nervous system beginning to level out for the first time in a week. With a heavy exhale, you started to melt into the cushions.

An arm pushed behind your back and around your midsection, and before you could register, Josh had nestled himself under your arm with his head on your chest. Instinctually you played with his curls, running your nails up the nape of his neck to just below his t-shirt collar. He hummed in approval of your light touch.

Soon, a down-tempo r&b tune was playing, and you felt him pick his head up slightly to look at the screen, “Oh shit, I forgot how incredible this music video is.” Your eyes fluttered open, nearly bothered by the interruption of your meditative state.

Colors and bodies flashed in and out of frame, and the characters leaned closer and closer till they were nearly on top of each other. They swayed and clung to each other's waists while a breathy vocalist sang of a need for touch, a desire to be felt. It was the kind of softcore thing you couldn’t quite pull away from, and you could see he was watching intently too.

“I love your algorithms–they don’t make any fucking sense,” you chimed in, hoping your nonchalant tone would hide how much you secretly enjoyed the mood shift.

Without breaking his focus from the screen, he began to run his fingers on your stomach, mirroring your scratches to his head and neck. “I can’t be defined, babydoll,” he responded, his delivery maddeningly vague. “You know the same production team worked on the video for…”

You lent an ear while he spiraled off on a tangent, seemingly unaware of the amount of lust that was building in you simply from hearing him speak. He was intoxicating, and even as blurry as you were, you couldn’t deny how welcome his touch felt. With every pass of his palm further up your torso, you hoped he’d overreach and graze your breast. And why not? You thought to yourself, What’s so different about tonight?

You surreptitiously shifted your body lower beneath him, the devil on your shoulders’ voice becoming almost unbearable. By the third or fourth song your pulse had quickened not insignificantly, and thoughts of him running his hand underneath your shirt to find your hardening nipples there had replaced all fuzzy exhaustion.

You tried to recall why a nagging feeling in the back of your mind kept steering you away, but it was all turning up blank in the thick cloud of dopamine. Still, you knew it couldn’t be nothing, and decided on compromise: One little kiss, that’s all. He’s not even paying attention. And so you brushed the curls away from his forehand and laid a deep kiss there. He was so warm against your lips it felt nearly impossible to break away, but as you did he quickly lifted his gaze to meet yours.

His lips parted softly as if to say something, then all at once they were on yours, moving with grace and hunger as you tugged gently on each other. He sat up straighter, lips never leaving yours as he balanced his weight on top of you. Your hands pressed firmly into his lower back, willing his pelvis to roll against yours, and you felt that same heat starting to build beneath his boxer briefs too.

You wanted to feel him, to hold his slight waist close to yours and run your fingers down his back till his whole body was covered in chills and desire. He broke temporarily from your lips and sighed as you ran your fingers from the nape of his neck all the way down to his tailbone. His chest pressed against yours and anchored you to the moment—two souls sharing a singular fluttering heartbeat.

His solid hands held your back and you reached to hang your arms around his neck. The movement forced him to burrow his nose into the crook of his neck, and he wasted no time peppering the delicate skin there with the same hungry kisses. You could feel the pressure leaving red welts that you’d have to attend to in the morning. Tonight though, they only served as proof of the affection he felt for you too.

He could’ve stayed content to hold you like that forever, but the building heat between you two was so saccharine, you felt you owed it to whatever hedonistic god to indulge yourself. Without hesitating, you slipped the neck of his t-shirt up over his curls and discarded it to the side.

The smile that met you was nothing short of a sunbeam. You could tell he hadn’t been sure what tonight held either, but every time you took initiative like this he knew it gave him permission to worship you like the goddess he always claimed you were.

He pulled himself to a seated position on the ground in front of you. You followed him forward while he settled on his knees, hands running up and down your body. They found the hem of your t-shirt and slipped seamlessly beneath to find your breasts. He held you steady as he rubbed your nipples in small, gentle circles.

You felt your back start to arch slightly at the pressure, and just as your kisses were gaining speed he reached a hand up to your chin and held you there, the other continuing its rhythm on your breast.

“God, you’re perfect in this light,” his words were breathy and sincere, and you wished with everything in you to swallow them whole and feel the light rush out through your pores. He set his lips to your jaw, inching further down your throat till he was nearly below your neckline.

“Help me out?” he breathed between quick kisses, never one to let clothing keep him at bay. You acquiesced immediately, pulling the edge of your t-shirt up over your head and out of mind.

Goosebumps covered your naked form, and you shivered. Noticing them, he paused his procession to run his palms up and down your arms. You grinned at him, jaw trembling slightly, “Sssee? Always making me cold.”

“You’re like poetry.” His voice was deeper now, deeper than you’d heard it in a while. His hazy eyes followed an invisible trail he mapped along your sternum, and the goosebumps multiplied. You saw the notch in his brow furrow as he began searching for something to say.

“I would not paint — a picture —

I'd rather be the One

It's bright impossibility

To dwell — delicious — on —”

Fuck.

“And wonder how the fingers feel

Whose rare — celestial — stir —

Evokes so sweet a torment —

Such sumptuous — Despair —”

“Oh Joshua,” was all you could breathe out in response, your chin jutting forward, crease on your forehead betraying how desperately you needed him. Your cheeks burned as he crashed back into you for a full and hungry kiss, his tongue reaching for more. Feeling your reaction, his hand traveled back down to your waistband.

Finally, like a ghost in the mirror, you recalled why you’d been so hesitant earlier. A millisecond to spare, you shot your hand down and caught his wrist. You could see a dart of panic in his eyes–he was afraid he’d upset you.

“Is this ok?”

“Yeah, yes, It’s just—” more color returned to your cheeks, and the words started to bubble over, “If you take off my pants it’ll get messy: it’s like, day four of my cycle. I totally spaced, baby, I’m sorry.” Your words were exasperated as you mentally kicked yourself for letting your brain fog this badly.

He pulled back to look you in the eye, faux sternness furrowing his brow, “Hey love?” You raised an eyebrow in answer to his sudden shift, “Full transparency: I couldn’t care less if you’re on your period, let alone what day.”

“Are you… are you sure?” Now your own brow was knit, skeptical of his sincerity. It wasn’t that you doubted him, simply that you needed confirmation. Your pulse quickened slightly and you focused your waning attention into his velvet brown eyes, searching for any apprehension he might have hidden for your sake. To your great surprise and relief, you could find none.

“I mean, god knows I’ve come face to face with a bodily fluid or two,” he flashed a devilish grin that spanned his entire face.

You quirked a small grin back, trying to feign indifference even while your heart was beating out of your chest, “Well, sure. I mean… really?”

“Really,” he continued, batting his eyelashes,“Maroon makes my eyes pop.”

“You’re a mess,” you said with a giggle.

“I will be.” He gave your waist a reassuring squeeze as he shifted his weight off his knees. “I’ll wear it like a badge of honor, '' he promised solemnly.

You thought about protesting once more just to check, but before you had a chance, his palms had slipped behind your lower back and he was pulling you towards himself. Your body shifted till you hung just barely off the edge of the couch, his hands effortlessly tugging your sweats and underwear off in a single tug.

“Theeeeere she is,” he exclaimed softly, a low hum building in his tone. With the shift in your weight came an equal one in mentality, and you felt your anxieties start to lift. It had been a while since you’d let him take full control, and the pure indulgence of it all was bringing a fire to your core the likes of which you hadn’t felt in months.

Slow and methodical, he parted your knees, gracing them with the backs of his fingers first, then tenderly running his hands along your thighs as he hummed softly, mostly to himself.

“Mmmm, it's like–what’s the new Hozier song?” He searched his hazy brain for the lyrics while he continued to run his hands along your skin, seemingly unaware of the tizzy he’d put you in. “I’d tell them put me back in, coach! Yeah, that’s the one…”

He tittered on as if speaking from an entirely different point of view, his words seemingly unaware of his thumb which was rubbing itself up and down your inner thigh. He swooped ever closer to your clit until he graciously pressed there in gentle circles.

“Take me to church!” He crooned, a lopsided grin washing over his face before bending to land soft kisses on each thigh. With a final glance up at you and the ghost of smirk that suggested he might be more coherent than he was letting on, his lips graciously smoothed over your sensitive clit. His tongue licked up your vulva to encompass all of you in smooth, wet pleasure.

“Oh god,'' you tried not to shout, although the work he’d done up to this point made you feel nearly ready to burst in record-time.

“Mhmm” he murmured into you. You could feel his lips smiling: he loved talking you through your pleasure. The rumblings always went straight through your center like electricity and gave you the deepest orgasms, which in turn fueled his.

He continued his sucking and tonguing, sometimes soft and light, then all at once more firm and deliberate. His lips were like waves crashing again and again to a steady unheard beat. As you found a common tempo your breath deepened with every exhale, and you released a sigh of your own. The melody, though quiet at first, shortly matched his in pitch and intensity.

He’d hum and you’d moan an echo to him, signaling your bliss in an ebb and flow of sounds shared between you; a language only you two could understand. His murmuring became groans and gasps as he came up for air, the temperature difference shocking your soaking cunt and exciting you even more. With each wave you ran your fingers through his curls, guiding his nose to press into you at the perfect angle, eliciting delicious moans which spurred the two of you on even more.

He clung to your hips as you began to roll yours into him, and he pressed his tongue greedily inside you, sending you dangerously close to the edge. “Baby, you’re doing so, so good, it might be soon,” you warned as you cupped his cheek in one hand, the other still pressing behind his neck to hold him in place.

He groaned and broke away with a smack, eyes half shut with the pleasureful haze filling both of your minds. “Hold on mama, I’ll get you there, I promise. Just gotta get these off,” he said, running his right palm down your calf to his boxer briefs. He hooked his thumb under the band at his waist while the other hand stayed anchored firmly on your knee.

The brief pause had pulled your mind temporarily out of the clouds, and you looked down to see that the arc of his cock was indeed reaching a fever pitch too strong to be ignored any longer.

“Oh god, baby I- I’m sorry I wasn’t even thinking, let m–” but as you went to sit forward the hand planted on your knee jumped up to your abdomen, pressing you back into the couch with a soft thud.

“Why are you saying sorry?” He stared directly into your eyes and continued pulling his boxer briefs off slow and deliberately. The question was as much a command to relax as it was an invitation to watch.

“If I needed your help, believe me baby, I’d ask.” His hand was on his cock now, already wet with so much precum, and the stare he was attempting faltered slightly as his fingers graced the tip.

“I’m not above begging–you know that,” he said, his voice gruff, erring a half step lower every time he reached the base of his cock. You felt your breath hitch, eyes flitting between his beautiful stare and his hand that continued stroking up and down.

“I bet you’d like that a lot, wouldn’t you?” His tone was darker, fueled by the eye contact, when suddenly—“Sicko!” he cried, his character voice nearly making you choke. You both erupted into bubbling laughter, and you shook your head slightly, brushing a rogue curl out of his eyes–He lets the intrusive thoughts win every time.

“Oh my god. Babe, you’re literally eating me out on my period,” you responded, dropping your hand firmly on the scruff of his neck again. He jumped slightly with the force of your grasp, and you could see his cock twitch the slightest bit more. You leaned in to match his energy, and with the darkest voice you could muster, confessed, “the sicko is you, darling.”

“Oh, right,” he said, a hazy smile floating back onto his face. His eyes closed as he lowered back down, “Right… fair point.”

His lips returned to your cunt, the promise of sweet release spurring him on to the finale. His movement was steady but desperate, and the smooth and consistent wake of your hips was shortly replaced by a more sporadic, forceful tide that pushed into him with vigor. He took it in stride, moaning as his own wake of pleasure began building in him.

You could tell he was moving his own hips at a quicken pace, as if imagining his cock was pushing deep inside you while he lapped at your drenched center. He spread his knees further apart, arching his back in order to bring himself closer to orgasm. His body was practically writhing underneath you, just the taste of you bringing him closer and closer.

The image of him completely at your mercy made every neuron in your brain fire simultaneously, and you moaned with a finality that let him know it was time.

Without warning his lips moved to encircle only your clit, and the focused sucking there sent you so dangerously close you nearly sobbed as you cried out, “Baby, come with me–on me, please.”

With a final cry you felt him oblige you, and he let out a long moan as you found yourself crashing into your orgasm. The release sent fireworks to your psyche, and he let you take over with your fingers the way you liked in the midst of it. He stood and watched you writhing with all the pleasure he’d given you, and with a final groan he joined you in ecstasy.

His head thrown back, he pumped himself onto your pussy, his mess joining your own and adding to the pleasure you were currently riding yourself through. Placing his free hand to your side, he knelt down closer and rubbed the sensitive head of his dripping cock in the folds of your vulva, spreading around his cum till both your sensitivities had become nearly too much to handle. Even then, he continued rubbing the shaft of his cock on your throbbing cunt till you gasped slightly from over stimulation.

His forehead met yours wordlessly, and you stayed there for a moment, breathing heavy from exertion. He sighed as he let his body flop down next to you, temples still touching. You ran your fingers up and down his arms, body still stuttering in the afterglow. The exhaustion was setting in, and you had to force yourself to open your eyelids to look at him–you needed to kiss him one more time before you fell asleep. He too had his eyes closed, a bleary smile playing across his face as if he were replaying pictures of you in his mind. You kissed him softly on his nose, still slightly wet and rosy, and his eyes fluttered open. As your pulses returned to their normal pace, he grabbed a blanket to clean you both up.

“We can wash it,” he said reassuringly, noticing your slightly reluctant side eye. Blanket in tow, he cupped his hand gently around your pussy and worked softly to make you feel as clean as possible. Once he was satisfied with his work, he tossed the blanket away to pull you in closer.

“You are entirely too good to me,” you whispered, the siren song of sleep finally taking its toll.

“You are entirely too good, momma,” he whispered back, and you both slipped away as the rain sang you into the deep blue.

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