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Their child calls their emergency line (Dad fluff)
Anon! This idea is so so cute! Don't mind me, I'm just giggling like an idiot over here. I adore imagining these guys as dads, and this prompt is completely indulging me. Thank you so much for sending this in! I had a lot of fun with this one. Enjoy!!
Presented in four drabbles.
For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE
Content & Warnings: brief swearing, mostly fluff
Word Count: 400
ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist
Simon "Ghost" Riley
Simon’s phone buzzes in his pocket. He ignores it. And the phones goes off again.
While Price, Gaz, and Soap all continue their conversation, Simon takes his phone out of his pocket and walks a few paces away.
He glances at the screen and sees his youngest daughter’s name on the screen. It’s their emergency line. Simon answers immediately and brings the phone up to his ear.
“Everything good, baby girl?”
“Can you help me with my math homework?”
Simon sighs. “So there isn’t an emergency?”
“Yes. The emergency is my math homework,” she replies plainly.
“Fucking hell,” he mutters.
John "Soap" MacTavish
Johnny is working late. Really fucking late. He promised Price he’d look at the reports before they’re sent off in the morning. Details are important. Things can’t be overlooked.
His phone buzzes on the desk.
“Hello?” he answers without looking at the name.
“Daddy?”
Johnny immediately straightens, the reports forgotten. It’s his eldest daughter.
“What’s wrong?” he asks.
She pauses. “Can you come pick me up?”
Johnny is already out of his chair and grabbing his coat before his daughter finishes the sentence.
“Where are you?”
“I’m sorry,” she murmurs.
“Don’t worry about it, love. Tell me where you are.”
Kyle "Gaz" Garrick
“Daddy?”
“What is it, baby girl?”
Kyle straightens at the slight tremor in his daughter’s tone. She rarely—if ever—calls him at work. And she knows it’s for emergency purposes only.
“Everything all right?” he asks after a beat.
She sighs. “Could—I—”
“What’s wrong?” he prompts, suddenly nervous.
“Are you leaving work soon?”
Kyle checks his watch. “In about an hour. What do you need?” His daughter mumbles something on the other end. “What’s that, love?”
“Can you grab tampons?” she asks in a rush.
Kyle holds back a laugh. Everything is fine.
“Of course, baby girl.”
John Price
John pinches the bridge of his nose. The file folder before him is just a blur of color.
His phone buzzes in his pocket. John fishes it out. Home, it says.
Frowning, he answers. “Hello?”
“Daddy?”
It’s his youngest, a boy of only six. “Why are you whispering?”
“I don’t want mum to hear me.”
“Why?”
“I want to surprise her.”
“That’s nice of you.”
“Can you get her a gift?”
“Of course, bud. I’ll grab something on the way home.”
“Thank you!” he shrieks, hanging up abruptly.
John snorts and stares down at the blank screen, shaking his head.
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in the woods with a couple of masked men
pairing: bucky barnes & steve rogers x female reader
summary: you've been flirting with steve rogers and bucky barnes for a month at the bar you all frequent with your friends, and on Halloween, when you tell them about your fantasy of being chased through the woods by masked men or men, they decide to make it a reality.
warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), threesome, smut, piv sex, unprotected sex, creampie, oral sex (m receiving), chase kink, mask kink, light bdsm, light degradation, praise kink, light choking, roughness, check-ins, pet names (baby, sweetheart, pretty girl, sweet girl) aftercare, halloween shenanigans
word count: 3.6k
a/n: this was my idea for my third and final halloween fic this year and i was really disappointed that i ran out of time to do a fully developed version, but i figured i'd put together something short and (hopefully) hot. this still ended up longer than i expected, but it's much shorter than my normal halloween fics so i hope that's ok 😅 happy (almost) halloween y'all!! ♡
halloween fics masterlist
"What do you want for Halloween, pretty girl?"
"I want a masked man—or men—to chase me through the woods and fuck me to within an inch of my life," you answered, a wicked smirk curling the corners of your mouth.
Your eyes slid away from the men you were talking to, casting a glance around the dingy dive bar that was more crowded than normal on Halloween night. You cut your eyes back to them and lifted a single shoulder in an apathetic shrug, your smirk still flirting at the edges of your lips.
"Y'know, just what every girl wants for Halloween."
You were talking to Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes, who you’d met a month before Halloween. One of their friends had started flirting with one of your friends at the bar you all liked to frequent, and as that relationship blossomed into more than flirting, you started seeing them more.
You'd gravitated to the handsome best friends, unable to resist talking to them, drinking with them, commiserating with them as your friends grew more and more flagrant with their public displays of affection. Besides, Bucky and Steve hadn't seemed to mind the way you'd laugh at their jokes—even the not-so-great ones—or lean against them when you grew tired late into the night.
Still, you didn't know what impulse had prompted you to tell them about your deepest, darkest fantasy. It must've been some deadly combination of loneliness and recklessness, and the ease you felt when you were around Steve and Bucky. But you couldn’t bring yourself to take it back.
Not when the men reacted by sharing a look like they planning something. Just the thought that they might be thinking about indulging your fantasy made you squeeze your thighs together and lean into the heat emanating from them.
Of course, you were also a little chilly, having worn a skimpy little dress as part of your Halloween costume, but you leaned closer to Steve and Bucky in the crowded bar for warmth and to inhale the intoxicating scent of their cologne, which sent more curls of heat dancing through your veins.
Without looking away from each other, their arms wrapped around you and they crushed you between their chests while they continued their silent conversation. You waited patiently, soaking up Bucky and Steve’s warmth until they turned to you, matching grins on their faces.
After a hushed conversation and a couple rounds of Steve and Bucky asking, "Are you sure you want this, sweet girl?" you found your friends and told them you were leaving with the men.
You told your friends you had your phone on you and promised to keep your location turned on, to check in when you were on your way home. Your friends cackled happily for you and shooed you off with Bucky and Steve.
When you got to the woods, Steve and Bucky each slipped on a Ghostface mask. Your breath caught in your lungs when you saw the big, muscled men dressed in all black and wearing the masks, your heart beating faster in your chest as excitement and desire churned in your belly.
One of them said they were giving you a 30-second head start, so you turned and bolted into the trees, running as fast as you could to put as much distance between you and them in the short time they’d given you. But only 10 seconds later, you heard them start to chase you.
You didn't have the breath to call out and accuse them of cheating, you were too focused on making the game as hard for them as possible. So you ran harder through the woods, losing them in the spindly trees cast in shades of silvery blue by the light of the moon.
For long moments, you ran without hearing anything behind you. You didn't know if you were truly giving Bucky and Steve a run for their money or if they were playing with you, but you didn't hear them chasing you until your lungs were burning and your legs were aching.
All at the same time, you heard a twig snap, the rustle of leaves. A hand snatched at your skimpy little dress, snapping it against your skin when you pulled out of their grasp. A grunt of frustration sounded as a scream welled in your throat, but you couldn't let it loose through your panting, gasping breaths as you ran on.
Fingers closed around your wrist and you shrieked in surprise, whirling around to wrench yourself free as you ran, turning to look over your shoulder and catching a glimpse of the eerie white Ghostface mask with its yawning, wide open mouth.
That glance you spared for your pursuer would be what got you caught—the first time.
With your head turned to look over your shoulder, you didn't see where you were going, and you crashed right into a big, hard chest. You bounced off it with your momentum, but strong arms wound around your waist, holding you pinned to the warm body pressed flush to your curves.
"Got you, baby," came a muffled voice through the mask.
You couldn't for the life of you tell which man it was, whether it was Bucky or Steve. Although, it didn’t really matter to you, your body burned with desire for each of them equally.
"What're you gonna give me to let you go?” the man taunted, his mask tipping down in such a way that you knew his eyes were dragging down to your cleavage, which was in danger of spilling out over the low neckline of your dress. "C'mon, slut, you look like you know how to please a man—so please me, and I'll let you go."
Arousal swirled through your body at the degrading way he spoke to you—you’d told Steve and Bucky back at the bar that you liked a little degradation and you were pleased that they were running with it. You couldn't help the impish smirk that spread across your face in response to the man’s filthy request.
"You're right, dirty man, I know exactly what to give you," you purred running your hands down the man's chest and trying to catch his eye through the mask.
Staring into the spooky visage of the Ghostface mask, you began lowering yourself to your knees and the man helped guide you down. His hands worked open the front of his jeans, undoing them and pulling out his cock while you settled on the cold, leaf-covered ground.
Without preamble, you sucked the man's half-hard cock into your mouth, relishing the way he groaned above you. His hands cradled your head, petting you idly while you licked along the velvety soft shaft, humming happily as you felt him harden against your tongue. He tasted musky, his scent filling your senses and making you gush with wetness between your thighs.
The man’s moans were loud in the forest as you bobbed on his cock, sucking him harder and faster and pushing him closer to his release. Distantly, you wondered where the other man was, but didn't concern yourself overmuch with it as you focused on making the man in front of your cum.
When you could feel that he was just about to let go, his thick cock throbbing against your tongue, you pulled away and broke free from his hold, leaping to your feet and darting off into the woods. His ferocious, frustrated roar followed you through the trees and you couldn't help the cackling laughter that tumbled from your lips as you ran.
Immediately, you could hear the man crashing through the underbrush after you and you had to wonder if he'd even paused to put his cock away before bolting after you.
It seemed you hadn’t learned your lesson, because you risked a glance over your shoulder, trying to get a peak of whether he was chasing you with his cock out, and at that moment, a hand reached out and grabbed your arm, towing you into another strong, broad chest.
"What'd you do to him, sweetheart?" came another muffled voice as the second man pinned your back against a tree, caging you in with his thick arms.
You couldn't help but laugh as you told him how you'd left the other man with his cock out and throbbing with need, teetering on the edge of his release. From behind his eerie Ghostface mask, the man in front of you tsked, shaking his head slowly, almost like he pitied you.
"You're gonna pay for that, pretty girl," he murmured in a husky, muffled voice. His hands slid down the sides of your body, making you shiver at the way he groped you softly, reverently. He was cupping your tits and squeezing your hips in a way that made your body hum with heat as he said, "If you're a good girl for me, maybe I'll convince him to go easy on you."
Warm palms skimmed down the outside of your thighs, fingers curling in the hem of your dress before pushing it up higher and higher…
You almost wanted to give in, to be good for him. Almost.
Instead, you scoffed, "Yeah, right,” and shoved roughly against the man's muscled chest. Though he barely budged, the movement dislodged his hands from your body and you managed to slip away from him, taking off again into the woods.
The man's loud laughter followed you, which was even more deliciously terrifying than the other man's roar had been.
Fleeing from both of the men, you tried to run harder, but you were growing tired—both of running and the game.
It was a good thing, then, that you didn't get far.
It seemed Bucky and Steve were sick of the game as well, because only a few seconds after the man’s laughter died in the night sky, a large body crashed into your back, tackling you to the forest floor.
Whoever caught you wound an arm around your waist and braced a hand against the ground so you didn't get hurt, but you still landed with a soft, "oof," of surprise. The body at your back covered you with its weight, pushing you deeper into the cold, damp leaves blanketing the dirt.
"I'm gonna make you regret leaving me like that, slut," said a gruff, menacing voice in your ear. A hand was pushing up your dress and ripping your panties down your legs while another was fumbling with a zipper, his knuckles grazing your bare ass.
The head of a cock grazed your folds, which were drenched with your desire, and your fingers sank into the soft soil beneath you as you arched into him, biting back a desirous moan. The man's hand grabbed your waist, leaning over you so the cold plastic of the Ghostface mask butted into your shoulder.
"You good, pretty girl?" he rumbled, his voice gentler as he checked in with you.
Your body, which had been tense an intoxicating mix of fear and arousal, relaxed at the question and you smiled, turning your head to catch the man's eye through the mesh of the mask. You shot him a playful smirk.
"Fuck me hard, filthy man," you purred, arching beneath him and pushing against the hard ridge of his cock so it slid through your slippery folds. "Show me how a dirty little slut like me deserves to be fucked."
The man groaned, shifting his hips so he could sink into your wet heat with one thrust, wringing a cry from your lips as his thick girth stretched your tight cunt. When his hips were pressed flush with your ass, he paused and you both took a moment to breathe and adjust to the feel of him inside your pussy.
You didn’t know if the other man had been watching you, timing it perfectly, but it was at that exact moment that he stepped in front of you, dropping down onto his knees as he undid the button and fly of his jeans. He spread his thick thighs and sank down onto his haunches so his cock was level with your face when he pulled it out.
"Why don't you show me what that pretty mouth can do, sweet girl," the man cooed, his voice distractingly patronizing even muffled through the mask. "Be a good girl and suck my cock while your pussy gets pounded."
You didn't need any more encouraging than that, lifting yourself up onto your arms so you could lick along the thick ridge on the underside of the man's cock, smirking when he groaned.
"Ya like that, perv?" you teased in between pressing wet, suckling kisses to the velvet-wrapped steel of his shaft. "Like getting your cock played with by a slut you caught in the woods?"
"Fuck yes," he groaned, cupping your head in his hands and urging you closer to the tip. You wrapped your lips around the head, enjoying the taste of his precum leaking onto your tongue, and sucked him hard. "Oh fuck, your mouth feels so fucking good, sweetheart."
You'd planned to tease the man's tip a little longer, but the man behind you seemed to be done letting you adjust to having two cocks in your holes. He pulled his hips back and slammed inside you again, burying his full length in your pussy and pushing you forward, forcing you to take the other man deeper.
The cock in your mouth brushed against the back of your throat and you gagged at the unexpected feeling. The man in front of you sat back quickly, pulling free of your lips and letting you suck in air while you coughed and recovered.
"Careful, dickhead," he growled, his voice still muffled through his mask so you couldn't tell whether he was Steve or Bucky. His hands idly stroked the top of your head and you found yourself leaning into the soft gesture.
"Sorry," the other man mumbled, his hands squeezing your hips apologetically.
"No, no, I want it rough," you said in a husky voice, straining your body to get your mouth back on the cock in front of your face. You pressed a kiss to the underside of the man's length, looking up at him from under your lashes. "I told you not to hold back—I want everything you can give me, please.”
"Fuck," the man in front of you grunted at the same time the man behind you groaned, starting to thrust into you slowly, making you feel every inch of his cock dragging along the inside of your pussy. The man who'd spoken stroked his fingers down your cheeks, catching a tear that had escaped when you'd gagged. "You're gonna spoil us, sweet girl, letting us use your pretty holes like that."
"Good," you said firmly, before swirling your tongue around the tip of his cock, moaning at the taste of him. You couldn’t wait to swallow his cum, to be filled of both of them. “Then maybe you guys will do this again with me."
"Fuck yes we will, baby," the man behind you groaned, covering you with his body and pinning you into the forest floor while his hand wrapped loosely around the front of your throat. His mask bumped against your cheek as he spoke in your ear. "We'll fuck you anytime and anywhere you want, pretty girl—all ya gotta do is ask."
A delirious smile curved your lips and you were just about to make some sassy comment, but then he thrust hard into your pussy, wrenching a sharp cry from your mouth as pleasure spiraled through your body. The other man used the opportunity of your parted lips to thrust his cock inside your mouth, careful not to go too deep.
Steve and Bucky worked your body in tandem, one of them pinning you to the cold ground and fucking you from behind, while the other held your head steady and fucked your mouth. All you could do was take everything they gave you, never knowing which one was which, moaning as they pushed you to the edge of pleasure.
You were writhing on the ground, your hands grasping at the damp leaves and the thick, jeans-clad thighs of the man in front of you, searching for something to hold onto as your pleasure spiraled higher. You were arching your back to take the cock deeper into your pussy, whining pitifully as you begged wordlessly for your release, unable to control yourself when you were so desperate to cum.
The men must've understood because they hauled you up onto your hand and knees, never removing their cocks from your holes. As they continued to fuck you, they positioned your body so that the man behind you could slip his hand between your thighs and find your needy, aching clit.
"Cum for us, slut," he growled in your ear.
The other man thumbed the tears from your cheeks as he pushed his cock deep into your mouth. He'd opened your throat enough for him so you didn't gag too much, but he fucked you through it anyway, until his cock was rubbing against the other man's hand as it bulged in your neck.
"Be a good girl, sweetheart, and cum on our cocks," the man in front of you urged, his balls pushing against your chin as he buried himself in your mouth and groaning when your muscles contracted as you swallowed around him. "Wanna feel you scream on my dick."
"Yeah, baby, gotta feel your sweet cunt milk me," the other man groaned into your ear, rubbing your clit unrelentingly while he pounded into you hard enough you could hear the sharp sounds of his hips smacking against your ass. "C'mon, don't you want us to fill your holes with our cum—cum for your masked men, sweet girl.”
You didn't know what tipped you over the edge—whether it was the muffled, filthy words or the fingers on your clit, or the pair of cocks ruthlessly fucking your holes—but something set you off, and you came harder than you ever had before.
A shrieking scream worked its way up inside you, making the man in front of you moan loudly when your throat constricted around his hard length. The man behind you grunted as your pussy clenched on his cock, and he buried himself to the root, moaning at the feel of your inner walls sucking him in deeper.
Pleasure consumed your mind thoroughly, overwhelming you entirely as your body trembled violently. You tried to stay in position for the men, but you knew it was their hands more than your own strength holding you up as the ecstasy of your release wrecked you.
The man in front of you came first, holding your head pinned to his abdomen and spilling his seed down your throat while you swallowed weakly, some of it spilling out around the shaft of his cock and joining the spit and tears making a mess of your face.
The other man followed a moment later, pressing his hips flush against your ass and coming with a filthy groan, his mask pressed to your shoulder blade and his arms wrapped around your waist while you felt his cock twitch deep inside you.
In the cold, dark forest on Halloween night, the three of you rode out your pleasure together for long, hazy moments. But when the chill of the air seeped into your cooling skin and you began to shiver, Bucky and Steve pulled themselves free from your body and gathered you up in their strong arms.
Together, they helped you stand, fussing around you as they fixed your dress and tugged leaves from your hair. One of them draped a hooded sweatshirt around your shoulders while the other used your discarded panties to clean the mess from between your thighs.
You'd lost track of who was who as they circled around you to clean you up, so even when Steve and Bucky pulled off their Ghostface masks, you didn't know which of them had fucked your mouth and which had fucked your pussy.
You didn't care overmuch, it was fun not knowing. Besides, you knew if you asked, they'd tell you which man was which.
"Doing good, pretty girl?" Steve cooed sweetly, dropping his lips to kiss your cheek. His fingers smoothed away the grit of your ruined makeup, making you smile.
"Yeah, so good," you said in a dreamy, breathless voice, catching his eye so he could see the honesty in your gaze when you told him, "Best Halloween ever."
Bucky chuckled at your statement and tucked you into his side beneath his arm, turning you in a direction you assumed would bring you back to the car they’d driven out to the woods.
"Let's get you home, sweet girl," Bucky murmured, brushing a kiss against your temple while Steve slid in on your other side, his arm wrapping around your waist. They held you clutched between their bodies, and you felt nothing but warm, sated and happy. "You've had your halloween fun with your two masked men, now it's time to rest."
"Yes, sir," you said on an exhale. Though you'd been trying for a playful tone, your voice was soft and sweet and you found you meant it. You trusted them to take care of you, and you let your head fall on Steve's shoulder, snuggling into him while you let the best friends guide you back to the car.
Once Bucky had tucked you into his lap on the passenger’s seat, you texted your friends to let them know you were ok while Steve drove you home. The men helped you inside and, at your request, stayed the night, cuddling up with you in your bed.
That night, you fell asleep with a smile on your face snuggled between Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes knowing you got what every girl wants (or, at least, what you wanted): some fun in the woods with a couple of masked men—and a Halloween night to remember.
halloween fics masterlist
#bucky barnes fanfiction#steve rogers fanfiction#bucky barnes smut#steve rogers smut#bucky barnes x reader#steve rogers x reader#bucky barnes#steve rogers#bucky barnes x you#steve rogers x you#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes fic#steve rogers fanfic#steve rogers fic#bucky barnes x steve rogers x reader#steve rogers x bucky barnes x reader#chris evans smut#chris evans fanfiction#chris evans chracters#sebastian stan smut#sebastian stan fanfiction#sebastian stan characters#halloween fic#witchywithwhiskeywork
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Talk of the Town | Tommy Shelby x Reader
Request: yes by @red-riding-wood
Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader
Summary: (Y/N)'s had enough of the whispering that always seems to happen when she's out and around Small Heath.
Warnings: language
Word Count: 2694
A/N: I’m back!! I’m sorry it took so long for me to share this, and I hope it won’t be so long before I’m sharing another story. The two prompts I was given to use are bolded in the fic - I hope you don’t mind how I used them. Enjoy! :)
PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! — YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!
Comment/Message me if you’d like to be tagged!
(Y/N) sat down at one of the empty tables, excited to try one of the new menu items at her favorite café. It had been a while since she indulged herself in one of these sorts of treats, so she was more than ready to dig in.
Her peaceful reverie didn't last long. She was only minutes into her lunch when she began to hear whispers from the table of women to her right.
"I think that's her," one of them whispered. "That's Tommy Shelby's girl."
"Are you sure?" another asked, pulling a face as she glanced in (Y/N)'s direction, "she looks too...good."
"Yeah, I'm sure," the first responded, "I've seen her out with him."
"I wonder if she knows about the things he's involved in?" the third woman entered the conversation, pondering aloud to her friend.
"She has to," the first responded.
"I'm not too sure," the second said, "I'm not sure I'd be able to show my face like this if I was going home to a man like that," she reasoned.
"Hmm, I'm not sure I'd mind going home to him though," the first woman commented, a grin forming on her face as she leaned closer to her friends, who were also grinning.
(Y/N) almost lost her appetite when she heard the direction their conversation was heading in. She couldn't believe that they were speaking so candidly about her and her partner's relationship...and that they were doing so while sitting so close to her. They had to know that she was able to hear them.
"I'm going to ask her what it's like to share a bed with a gangster," the third woman announced, ready to get the answers straight from the topic’s mouth.
"No! You can't just walk over to her and ask that!" the first woman hissed, her eyes widening as she reached out to grab her friend's arm before she could leave the table.
That was when (Y/N) focused her eyes back on the plate in front of her. She waited on baited breath and silently hoped that the first friend would get the third to sit down. Thankfully the former's attempts to stop the latter worked, and the women decided to switch topics after that.
She thought that that would have been the last she heard from those women, but nothing could have prepared her for the fact that one of them - the third one that was hoping to speak to her earlier - decided to stop her as she was discarding her trash.
"You're with Tommy Shelby, right?" the voice came from behind, making (Y/N) quickly turn.
"I am," she answered, a bit of surprise laced into her voice.
"How do you do it?" the woman asked.
"What do you mean?" (Y/N) was now confused.
"How do you live with the fact that he's taking directly from the pockets of the poor and doesn't think twice about hurting anyone who stands in his way?" the woman didn't even think about what would be considered proper, and that truly shocked (Y/N).
Had she really said that to a complete stranger? And why was she saying such things about her partner?
It took her a moment to collect her thoughts. She blinked several times before responding, "I'm sorry, I'm not sure what you're talking about. Tommy's family doesn't run their business like that."
There was a moment of pause between the two as the other woman looked at (Y/N) kind of like she was waiting for her to say that she was joking and that she knew exactly why the Shelby family operated the way they did. But (Y/N)'s expression of confusion didn't change.
"You really...you really don't know how he handles business?" there was now surprise in the other woman's voice.
"I don't understand what you're saying, I've just told you that's not how they handle things," (Y/N) doubled down on her previous response.
"He must keep you locked away from certain parts of his life then," the woman stated, stifling her laughter. "Tommy Shelby's a full out gangster, darling."
A bit of incredulousness seeped into (Y/N)'s expression upon hearing the woman's statement. "I'm quite honestly insulted that you would speak of another woman's partner like that. Have you no manners?" she asked with a scoff.
"It's the truth. Everyone around town knows it," the other woman shrugged.
"It's still rude to suggest," (Y/N) responded, pursing her lips together tightly as she tried to keep composed. "Good day," she said then, tilting her chin up as she walked away from the woman without letting her get another word in.
No matter how hard she tried, the words of the woman at the café wouldn't leave (Y/N)'s mind. By the time she reached the home she lived on on Watery Lane, her frustration was just about to the point of boiling over. She didn't even care that she had slammed the door to the home shut.
"Goodness. Hello, (Y/N)," Polly's surprised, but still steady, voice made (Y/N) realize that she hadn't shut the door to an empty home.
"Hi, Pol," the younger woman was terse with her greeting.
Polly was able to feel the frustration as it was practically radiating off of (Y/N). She watched the younger woman carefully as she stood stiff in her spot, balling her fists and opening them in hopes that it would help regulate the emotions she was feeling.
"Well..." the older woman paused, letting out a sigh before continuing, "what is wrong with you?" she asked. She didn't say it in any demeaning sort of way, even though it may have sounded like such. If anything, she was concerned...(Y/N) rarely got flustered like this, so it wasn't hard to pick up that something had bothered her.
"I'm sick and tired of people treating me like I am some sort of animal stuck in captivity! Everywhere I go all I hear is whispers, and sometimes they lead to questions that make me look like a fool when I answer them, and I'm not sure how much more of it I can take!" (Y/N) didn't hold back from expressing what was frustrating her.
Polly pursed her lips. She gave the younger woman a once over, seeing how she was practically shaking with aggravation. She was just about to speak when (Y/N) exited the room.
The silence didn't persist for long though. The younger woman’s exit was followed by a sound of slight struggle and then a crash, which prompted a string of curse words. Polly stayed in her seat, knowing that her assistance wasn't something she would want in this situation.
The door opened again moments later, and this time Tommy walked through it. He immediately picked up on the expression Polly was wearing as well as the leftover tension in the room.
"What?" he asked his aunt, his eyebrows raising in question.
"(Y/N)'s in the kitchen," the older woman responded, pursing her lips after she spoke.
Tommy turned his head to the left slightly and kept his raised brow expression as if to say 'and?'.
Polly also responded nonverbally, widening her eyes and nodding her head in the direction of the kitchen, her way of saying 'see for yourself'.
Tommy sighed, removing his peaked cap and shoving it into one of his suit jacket pockets as he began walking towards the kitchen. It's always fucking something, went through his mind as he crossed the room's threshold. That thought immediately vanished when he saw the woman he was proud to call 'his' on the ground cleaning up a mess of cooking utensils. "What happened, love?" he asked her, his voice making her eyes snap from the floor to look in his direction. It didn't take long for him to see the puffiness surrounding them; she'd been crying.
"I just wanted to fix myself something to eat and when I went to open the drawer to grab a spoon it got stuck, because they're all stuffed into the same bloody drawer even though there are other places for them, and so I pulled on it and the drawer came out," she answered in a rambling mess, her frustration shining through in her words. She then bit on her bottom lip as it began to tremble, the earlier conversation flooding back in her mind as the topic of it was now standing in front of her. Tears began to brim in her eyes and she quickly looked away so Tommy wouldn't catch them.
But, of course, he did. "They're just utensils in a drawer, love. It's no harm done," he tried to tell her that it wasn't something worth crying over.
(Y/N) let out a choked laugh, shaking her head as she wiped the tears from her cheeks. "It's not the utensils, Tommy," she said, continuing to shake her head as she spoke.
"Then what is it?" he asked with furrowed eyebrows.
There was a pause. (Y/N) was unsure if she should bring what happened earlier up, or if she should let it rest. She was no longer angry, just upset that people - whom she'd never met - thought they had her and Tommy's relationship figured out. "I'm tired of defending myself," she sighed, deciding to go right to the heart of it all instead of beating around the bush.
Tommy was still confused. He was still stuck on the broken drawer and mess of utensils to understand why she'd respond that way.
(Y/N) was able to see that. With another sigh, she stood up and closed the distance between them. "There's so many people whispering...about you and I, and about the things that you do. I try my best to ignore them, but today a woman came up to me and asked directly how I could live with what you do. I felt like such a fool being placed in that position because it seems that people have a different opinion on your business than I. I'm just...I'm tired of being the talk of the town."
Tommy listened intently as (Y/N) shared her frustrations with him. He could hear how much these comments had been eating her up inside, and he'd be lying if he said he didn't feel an anger brewing towards these people. How could they choose the times when he wasn't around to get to the person that meant most to him?
"What type of business are you running?" (Y/N) asked after the silence had prevailed for a few moments.
It was a question that made Tommy clench his jaw and avert his eyes to the floor. He didn't quite know what to feel now. He wasn't angry at the fact that (Y/N) had essentially found out about what was actually happening outside of the betting shop floor…he wasn’t exactly hiding it from her. He was angry at the fact that it was people around town who told her about it. It was always his hope that he could keep her out of that side of things. She didn't need that darkness dimming her light.
"Tommy?" she softly prodded him, hoping for an answer.
"I do what I need to do to get things done, (Y/N)," he finally answered her, his voice flat.
His response didn't give much up front, but she was able to read between the lines of it. She exhaled a breath as his eyes met hers once more. "What happened to being honest with the business?"
"When has bein' honest gotten us anything, eh?" he asked her, his one eyebrow quirked in an inquisitorial manner.
(Y/N) sighed, unable to stop the corner of her lips from raising as she looked away for a moment and exhaled a laugh. She let out a sigh then, bringing her hand up to run it across her face. She truly didn't know what to think now.
"Are you upset?" Tommy's question broke the silence this time.
"Yes..." she paused, looking at him again, "but not at you," she made sure to clarify.
Tommy pulled a face in response to her statement, one that asked for her to continue.
"I'm upset that people feel the need to comment on my relationship with you, and that they..." she paused, dropping eye contact as she turned away from him, not wanting him to see how their words still affected her. She took a deep breath before continuing, "that they see me as too much of a fool to be with you."
She couldn't help but laugh at herself as she finished her statement. Maybe you are a fool because you don't know what he really does, she thought to herself. She thought she’d know everything about someone she’d been with for just about six years now. Hell she helped Polly keep the betting shop afloat while the boys were off fighting in France. She knew how things worked in the business. But these whispers started sometime after they returned. With the start of 1919 came (Y/N)'s wondering of why so many people were suddenly interested in the life of Tommy Shelby.
"Hey," Tommy stepped towards her, reaching out and taking hold of her left arm so that he could gently turn her back to face him. Doing so effectively brought her out of her thoughts and made her focus on him again. "Fuck what they have to say," he told her, a devilish grin forming on his lips as he attempted to lighten the mood.
(Y/N)'s eyes widened upon hearing his statement, and she brought her hands up to softly smack his shoulders. "Tommy!" she gasped, her mouth still gaped slightly in surprise. Could that really be his response?, she questioned herself before voicing her disbelief, "I can't believe that's your response," she said while laughing slightly.
"What they say doesn't matter, love," he told her, snaking his arms around her waist so that he could pull her closer to him.
"But still..."
"But nothing," he cut her off, his eyebrows raised. (Y/N) sighed and let her hands rest on his shoulders. The feeling of his suit jacket's material beneath her fingertips made her relax. Tommy truly felt like home to her. Just being in his arms for these mere seconds was making her feel better. "You and me...we're ok, right?" he asked her then, his voice soft as he waited intently for her answer. She was able to feel his gaze on her, but she kept her eyes fixed on his collar, her fingers running against the lapels of his jacket. "Right?" he asked again when he didn't receive a response, pressing his fingers against her sides as he pulled her slightly closer to him.
His actions made her let out a surprised giggle as their heads touched, and it also made her look at him once more. "We're ok," she affirmed, a smile now present on her lips as she continued playing with his lapels, "I just want you to stay safe."
"Always," he whispered, a smile playing on his lips as he assured her.
"And you'll let me in?" her voice was softer now as she looked at him through her eyelashes.
"I will," he whispered, his eyes flitting down to her lips.
"Good, because I need to have something to tell the women who just can't keep their thoughts to themselves," she stated, placing her hands on his cheeks so that she could raise his eyes to meet hers again. She knew what he was thinking of doing.
"(Y/N), fuck..."
"What they say, I know," she finished his sentence for him, smiling as he exhaled a laugh, "maybe..." she trailed off, a bit of a mischievous smile playing on her lips, "maybe I'll just tell them how good this is..."
"What's that?" was all Tommy was able to get out before (Y/N) closed the space and pressed her lips to his.
And if she did tell the whisperers about that, she'd indeed have them wondering.
MASTERLIST
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small favors
mingyu x oc reader
fluff, friends to lovers
note: this is purely self-indulgent because i have a big fat ass crush on mingyu. havent got the time to proofread and fancify everything but pls enjoy!!!
—
"This is my third glass already. If that girl in the red dress doesn't stick around, I'm tapping out," you sigh, your face resting on your hand while the other holds onto your margarita. Mingyu had come up with the plan for you both to team up and help Wonwoo find a date at Seungcheol’s sister’s wedding party, and you had readily agreed.
You've known Wonwoo since childhood, introduced by his mom at the playground, and you've been the best of friends since then. Mingyu joined your circle in high school, and the three of you have been inseparable ever since.
"Hang in there. I think the girl in red might be the one. They’ve been chatting for a good ten minutes now," Mingyu remarks, checking his watch.
"Yeah? Let's see," you reply skeptically.
"Such a pessimist. Remember, she's your candidate," Mingyu teases.
"I don't know, I just don't see Wonwoo fully engaged in the conversation. She had that charm when I talked to her," you admit, though it's hard to tell from three tables away whether Wonwoo's truly interested or just politely listening.
As you both observe, Soonyoung joins in with his drink. "What are you both up to now?" he asks, following your gaze to Wonwoo and the girl in the red dress, looking at you and Mingyu with a confused expression.
Turning to Soonyoung, you ask, "Soonyoung, what do you think? Will the girl in the red dress be able to break through Wonwoo's defenses?"
He takes a sip and frowns at the aftertaste. "How come you never set me up? We're friends too, you know, both of you."
"Just answer the question," you roll your eyes.
Soonyoung takes another look at Wonwoo and the girl in the red dress. "I think she might," he finally answers, earning a nod of agreement from you.
"Hey, look! They're laughing!" Mingyu giggles at the sight of Wonwoo saying something that earns a laugh from the girl.
"Oh my god," you gush with Mingyu. "She just handed him her phone."
You playfully slap Mingyu’s arm. "Dude, they're exchanging numbers!"
Both matchmakers celebrate with high fives until the girl in the red dress exits their view and waves goodbye to Wonwoo.
"Wait, where's she going? Is she heading home already?" you wonder aloud, checking the time on your phone. When you look back up, the girl in the red dress passes by your table and greets you with a nod, saying, "Nice to meet you again, Y/N. Gotta go."
Wonwoo follows after her, approaching your table. As he sets his drink down, you immediately ask, “So?”
Wonwoo takes a sip of his drink. “She was alright,” he says nonchalantly, earning a disappointed expression from you, which he finds amusing.
"What do you mean she was alright?" Mingyu prompts.
"Well…" Wonwoo tilts his head, trying to recall the details. "She’s a photographer. So that’s a good start."
Impatient with his lack of detail, you sigh. Typical Wonwoo, a man of few words. "Okay. And?"
Wonwoo takes another sip. “She suggested I visit her photo exhibit sometime. So she gave me her Instagram page and I gave her mine too.”
Realizing your mission was a success, you grasp Mingyu's shoulder. Mingyu raises his glass, proposing a toast among the four of you.
"I'm so happy right now, I need another glass," you giggle, taking a sip of your margarita.
“Okay. Wonwoo’s got a date. How about me?” Soonyoung pouts, making you laugh. You then ask Mingyu to switch seats so you can play matchmaker with Soonyoung this time.
As you're in the middle of interviewing Soonyoung and scanning the crowd with him to find someone he’d want to talk to, Dami, Seungcheol’s sister in lawapproaches and grabs your arm, pulling you to her.
“Y/N! I have someone you should meet!”
With wide eyes, you look at your tablemates and mouth "Help," but they only laugh at you.
“Bye!” Wonwoo teases, waving to you.
Meanwhile, the three guys left at the table continue drinking and talking over the jazz music playing in the background. Mingyu notices you at a table with Seungcheol as Dami walks through the crowd with her arm looped around some guy in a tux.
He figures maybe this is the guy Dami wanted to introduce you to. Guess they aren’t the only ones playing matchmaker that night.
Wonwoo notices his best friend looking intently from afar. He turns his head back to see you shaking hands with a handsome stranger. Mingyu’s eyes start to wander, trying to distract himself from the hint of jealousy he was feeling
“When is the DJ set going to start? I am so bored,” Soonyoung pouts as he scrolls through his phone, then gets nudged by Wonwoo, directing his attention to you observing something from a distance.
Soonyoung couldn’t help but tease. “Oh wow, Dami’s got good taste. I’d like to see how Y/N would play the game tonight.”
“What?” Mingyu snaps out of it and pretends not to hear.
“Good luck stealing her back, man. Just letting you know I’m always Team Mingyu.” Soonyoung pats Mingyu's back, gripping his drink and takes off.
Wonwoo then slides closer to Mingyu. “You know you’ve always had the advantage, right?”
Mingyu looks at him, confused. “Advantage? What are you talking about?” Mingyu knows what his best friend was talking about. Wonwoo is direct, but this conversation feels different. They've never discussed about him and Y/N before.
“Oh, come on, Mingyu. I've noticed the way you look at her lately. If you like her, just tell her and let it happen the way its fated to happen,” Wonwoo says, taking a sip of his drink, as though confessing to Y/N were as simple as ordering another round.
If telling Y/N what he felt was that easy for him and her, he could’ve done it sooner. But no. He wanted to be sure. He wanted to be sure that this wasn’t just some sort of crush.
“Okay, let's calm down,” he chuckles nervously. “I’m just taking my time, hyung. And I also want to give her all the time and space she needs if…” he pauses. “… if she ever feels the same way.” He adds hastily, gulping down the rest of his drink. “This stuff is good. I need more.”
Conveniently, Seungcheol appears out of nowhere with two glasses in hand, setting them down their table. “I thought you might need another round,” he says, chuckling softly.
Mingyu thanks him, but before he can even grab his drink, you swoop in and snatch it from his hand, leaving the three of them surprised.
“Thanks,” you say, taking a sip and letting out a relieved sigh. You hadn't expected to meet one of your biggest radio DJ crushes, Joshua, at a wedding party. As the brief conversation with him ends, you hurriedly excuse yourself from Seungmi, feeling your face grow warmer by the second.
As you return to your table, Cheol gives Mingyu a teasing glance while sipping on his drink. “Y/N's pretty cute when she's flustered.”
“Oh shut up.” You playfully roll your eyes and then offered to get Mingyu a new glass which you did.
As you stepped away, Wonwoo chuckles at Cheol’s comment, earning an eye roll from Mingyu. “This is so annoying.”
“Why are you annoyed? Oh, I see. You know I heard that Joshua invited her to visit him at the radio booth sometime.” Cheol prods.
“She'll probably be too busy to go,” Mingyu counters.
“How would you know? Are you her manager?”
“What if I am?” Mingyu retorts, trying to play it cool.
They stop abruptly when you came back with a new drink in hand and gave it to Mingyu. “Gentlemen. I am back. Here’s your drink, sir.”
“So how’d it go meeting one of your celebrity crushes?” Wonwoo asks. He wanted to see how his bestfriend will react.
“Oh. Pfft. Yeah I think I played it real cool. Did I?” You turn to Seungcheol for affirmation but he laughs at you instead.
“You were good. Charming at least.” He winks at you and you mouthed a ‘thank you’ You then proceeded to rambling about Joshua’s radio show Sunday Mornings aired every Sunday morning.
“So annoying.” Mingyu mutters as he side eyes Seungcheol.
Wonwoo tries to hold in a laugh, covering his mouth with his drink. Mingyu takes another big sip from his drink thinking this was going to be a long night for him.
—
The tension Mingyu was feeling inside eases off as the night progressed. He has the alcohol to thank for that as well as when the dj finally starts his set for the after-after party.
You, however, was on a high and was extra loud for the night. Never in your life would you think you’d have the energy to goof around and match Soonyoung’s on the dancefloor considering that you weren’t that good of a dancer.
With your confidence at its peak you even pulled the bride to dance with you twirled her over to her now husband. The warmth and joy you felt was incomparable as you watched the newly weds dance and then seal everything with a kiss as the song ended.
Another song plays as you wanted to rest because your feet was starting to hurt already so you head to the bar for another drink as if you weren’t tipsy enough. You scan the room for somewhere to sit on but all you found was the flight of stairs from where the bride and groom had their grand entrance earlier that night.
Wonwoo was sitting down a step checking his phone. He then notices you approaching. He scoots a little and sweeps the space beside him with his hand for you to sit on.
“Tired?” He says with a welcoming smile.
“Yeah. A little.” You sigh as you carefully take a seat.
“Did you at least have fun tonight?” He asks like a dad asking his daughter if she had fun.
“Yes, dad. There were lots of boys hitting on me though.” You joke and scrunch your nose waiting for his reaction.
Wonwoo chuckles and plays along. “Ah my pretty daughter. The boys must’ve had a hard time getting your attention.”
“They’re just boys. I’m here for the party.”
“Really? No one caught your eye?” He points to the small crowd of people enjoying the music, dancing, having drinks.
You casually pretend to scan the crowd until you notice Mingyu was fast approaching still looking to be at full energy.
“I dunno. This guy seems pretty decent.” You shrugged. “Pretty. Decent. Kind.” You said that in a very smug way but heaven knows you meant it.
You’ve developed a skill of being friends with Kim Mingyu. And that was suppressing even the slightest infatuation that eventually grew over the years. Who wouldn’t have a crush on Kim Mingyu anyway?
You’ve had plenty of experience with girls befriending you just to get close to him, some would bribe you with coffee to have you give them his number. You get the coffee, ask Mingyu for permission if he’s comfortable with his number being given and then hand him the coffee you got for free.
With your sibling-like dynamic, he was so comfortable with sharing even his dating life sometimes it wasn’t as fun anymore because you realize how good of a person he was it’s almost unreal that some girls think of him as too naive when he’s really just that kind of person who always believes there is something good in everything.
You were glad to be his friend. You continue to learn a lot from him. There’s an internal struggle however, when that dreaded question “what if you wanted something more than being friends” comes to mind. It scares you. Scared that he might get to close to see through the cracks.
“What are you two doing?! Sitting down?! Really?!” Mingyu reaches for your hand while his other hand reaches for Wonwoo’s and then pulls the both of you up like his ragdolls.
This was always the dynamic between you three. Mingyu being the energetic golden retriever, Wonwoo being the calm black cat, you being the confused chihuahua to balance them out.
—
Later that night, you find yourself assisting a drunk Kwon Soonyoung to his hotel room.
As you search your purse for Soon’s key card he has entrusted you earlier that night, Wonwoo was trying to restrain Soon who was trying to kiss him while he laughs and giggles. Same with Mingyu. But he just talks to Soon in his state.
The door beeped and clicked open so you successfully assisted Soonyoung to his room. You help remove his blazer and then finally made him lay in bed.
Thankfully, your rooms were on the same floor so you all went your separate ways for the night.
Once you settled in and changed to a shirt and sweatpants. You were in the midst of removing stubborn makeup when you decided to open a bottle of beer to cap off the night
As you were quietly browsing photos you took in your hotel room you notices Mingyu’s coat that you lazily hung to a chair.
You text him.
“You still awake??? forgot to give your coat back sorry”
“i’ll go get it in a minute” he replied
You continue browsing the photos you took for tonight and you stop at photos Soonyoung took of Mingyu and you making funny faces. Your lips curl to a smile as you remember this was taken after you sent Wonwoo off with a girl to talk too.
You heard knocking so you toss your phone to your bed and set the beer bottle down. You get Mingyu’s coat and open the door.
“Hey.” You were greeted with Mingyu hair still a bit wet from the shower, obvious from the droplets of his hoodie.
“I was going to give it later in the morning but you were eager to get it.” You hand him your coat.
“You can just tell me you’re gonna hug it to your sleep if you want to you know.” He reaches for it and your hands slightly brush together.
Your face contorts. “Ew. Why the hell would I do that? Creepy.”
“So you can dream of me. Duh.” He is still at it.
“I’ll pass. Good night, Gyu.” You were not having enough of it you rolled your eyes and was about to close the door but his hand stops it.
There was silence between you two for a few seconds. He then takes a step closer, height towering over you. At this moment you felt as if you were put under his spell. Unable to move, you focus on his forehead since your legs might just give up if you look straight into his eyes.
His eyes traveling from your eyes nose and lips.
He softly touches your fingers, moving up your arms barely touching it with his fingertips then tracing your jaw.
You feel your breath slowing down. Your eyes trying to read his. Was this really happening? Should you let it happen?
“Can I kiss you?” He says quietly.
You nod slightly, closed your eyes then it happens. You felt the warmth spread to your face.
Mingyu smiles as he pulled away. Both your eyes meeting each other. You sigh a little. Your foreheads against each other.
“You taste like beer.” He giggles softly and you let out a shy laugh.
You weren’t sure what got to you as you reached for his neck to kiss him again.
After you break it off there was a pause and then you both go back to laughing faces against each other. You have no idea if it was just the high of finally doing what both your hearts wanted to do for a long while. And finally meeting halfway with what the score is between the two of you.
You were both interrupted with the sound of the door being opened. You both straighten up as if nothing happened.
“I-uh…” Mingyu clears his throat. “Goodnight, Y/N.
You touch your nape and avoided eye contact. “Yeah uh. Good night, Gyu.”
—
It was another long day for you and Mingyu at work. While you were busy writing and revising scripts and trying to help your editor with the video editing, Mingyu was busy shooting new content for the project you were working together for. He was the director this time and you were one of the writers.
No one has said a word ever since that kiss. You were at your best at pretending that it did not bother you at all and kept busy at work.
He asked you to eat lunch with him at your favorite sandwich place.
The whole time you sat there were complaining about how you were frustrated at one of your scripts keep getting scrapped by one of the hosts you were shooting.
“Can I talk to you about something” He asked softly.
You peel off the wrapper of your subway BLT “Yeah go on.“ And then you took a big bite.
“About that kiss.” His eyes not leaving yours. Observing how you’d react.
You somehow mastered controling your reactions being with Mingyu for years.
“What about it?” You said nonchalantly. “I was pretty drunk that night.” No you weren’t. You were having a beer and completely aware.
“You…were?” He tilts his head like a confused puppy. “Okay. But I remember you kissing me back.” He was taken aback by your reply. You were clearly not as kissing anyone she sees drunk level as Soonyoung.
“Yeah, cause I was drunk. We do and say stupid things when we’re drunk. I’m sorry if it made you uncomfortable.” You meet his eyes this time to make your lie more convincing to him but moreso yourself.
Mingyu was left confused. You were not drunk that night.
He raised an eyebrow because you were obviously lying. You were more stern, retained more eye contact when you lie. It’s the same strategy you do when you’re pushed to do revisions to scripts that you did not want to do because it’ll only change the story.
“Look I just want to you to know that I don’t regret doing that.”
“Mmhmm.” You were busy chewing your sandwich and back to avoiding eye contact.
“And that I have liked you long enough for me to have the courage to do that.”
He can see your eyes widen and proactively try to avoid his. Your gut goes crazy until your eyes meet his. You stay there and your gut eases.
You were about to say something but couldn’t find the words so you just closed your mouth and looked into his eyes now and sighed.
“But please don’t say anything. You don’t have to answer.”
“And just tell me if you’re not comfortable with this. I mean we do work together almost all the time.” He then takes a big bite of the sandwich he barely touched after all that.
“It’s fine. I mean… It was a drunken mistake on me. I just-” You sighed again and wanted to say something but your emotions were all over the place. “Thank you. For telling me this.”
“Are we cool?”
You smiled. “Course we are.”
—
“So… Wonwoo told me something earlier before he left.” You peeked through your laptop and glanced at Mingyu who was cooking.
“What’d he say?”
“Nothing. He just told me that he… saw us kiss that night at the wedding.” You shrug trying to keep your tone as casual as you can.
“Okay. And?”
“He said that whatever that was, it’s safe with him. It’s none of his business.” You stood up from your seat and walked to their fridge.
“I just told him that it was nothing. I was drunk.” You said as you searched for a can of soda and then reached for it.
Mingyu’s eyebrows were raised at the sound of you saying you were drunk excuse again. He turns to face you with arms crossed across his chest. “It was nothing huh? And you were drunk.”
“Yeah. I was. Haven’t we talked about this?” You opened the soda but almost fizzed out but you drink it up with your mouth before it spills.
Mingyu scoffs. “You can’t keep convincing yourself that you were too drunk to kiss me back that night,” Mingyu finally snaps, his frustration boiling over. He’s tired of you dismissing your kiss as a drunken mistake. It wasn’t just about the kiss he was frustrated about.
You were a mess. You were going on this push and pull game of yours. You would be sweet one day and then the next one push him away. It wasn’t as if Mingyu didn’t see this coming knowing you.
Your eyes widen in disbelief. “What did you just say?”
“You were sober,” Mingyu states firmly, taking a step closer to her. “You kissed me back.” He removes his apron this time and carefully sets it aside.
Your arms cross defensively. “And what if I did?”
“Just admit it,” Mingyu insists, his voice tinged with exasperation. “I kissed you because I like you, you kissed me back, and now you keep saying you were drunk and it was nothing?”
“Stop saying the word ‘kiss’!” You retort, your irritation becoming more obvious.
“Stop acting like a child!” Mingyu shoots back, his frustration building up.
“I was just experimenting, okay? Can we drop it now?” Your tone softens slightly as you resigns herself to the conversation.
“Experimenting? For what? You’re unbelievable! Are we guinea pigs now to experiment your feelings on?” Mingyu’s disbelief is palpable.
“I was trying to see if it was real,” you admit reluctantly, her voice barely above a whisper.
“What is?” Mingyu’s gaze softens as he meets her eyes.
“You and I,” you replie quietly, your defenses crumbling. “Whatever this is.”
There’s a moment of silence as they both process your confession.
Finally, you sigh, tone resigned. “I was just checking. Making sure what I felt was real. So I can confront it and have the guts to tell you.”
“But you kissed me, so I kissed you back, and then I went crazy, so I wanted to think about it for days, hence me trying to convince myself and you all that I was drunk!”
Mingyu’s eyes soften, a hint of understanding dawning in them as they trail from her eyes to her lips. “Well, do you want to check again?” he asks softly.
You chuckle, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “You’re so stupid,” you murmur. “I’m not kissing you again.”
“You want to,” Mingyu insists, leaning in closer.
You place your palm on his chest, stopping him from closing the gap. “Yeah, I kinda do,” you admit, before leaning in for a short kiss.
#mingyu x oc#mingyu x reader#svt x reader#svt#oneshot#kim mingyu#seventeen#seventeen x reader#fluff#seventeen fluff#svt fluff#mingyu fluff#wonwoo#seungcheol#soonyoung#mingyu imagines#svt imagines#svt fanfic#acewrites
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A Natural Benefit
Title: A Natural Benefit
Fandom: Death Note
Characters: L Lawliet x Reader (female)
Summary: L wants to try something new, you want to be left alone. So an offer is on the table, it's a mutually beneficial arrangement after all.
Word count: 2100+
Notes: yandere!L, kidnapped Reader, dub-con kissing, manipulation, captivity, L and Reader were together at Wammy's House
"Would you indulge me?"
Your eyes dart up from the page to his face. L looks at you like he always does ─ an intent yet oddly distant stare that used to make goosebumps appear on your arms. Nowadays you're somewhat re-accustomed to his mannerisms. He doesn't blink much, tends to stand behind your back whenever possible, likes to play with his food and enjoys invading your personal space far too much to be deemed socially acceptable.
His habits are strange but harmless.
"No," you say, just to be contrary.
L is fond of making things sound simple, and then — snap! — the trap is shut, and you find yourself doing a completely different activity than initially expected.
"I want to kiss you."
"N-" You blink and lower your book down, not bothering to mark it. "What?"
"Kissing is an act of physical intimacy between individuals," he says like it's an obvious fact and you're merely slow on the uptake. L's expression doesn't change, neutral despite this being anything but a normal conversation starter even by your standards ─ admittedly low.
"Thank you for enlightening me about the definition," you lean back against the cushions, "still no."
"Why not?" He asks after a momentary pause.
"Because I don't want to."
A simple answer to a weird request. You try to resume reading, but there're other things currently occupying your brain ─ namely the attempts to understand what prompted such inquiry.
L never asked for physical contact before; platonic or otherwise. Sure he tried to entice you into spending time with him through bargain and manipulation, and you pretended to be oblivious enough to earn an Oscar for your acting skills. However, there never was any talk of kissing involved. Any kind of touching, actually.
He hums. "Would you like me to explain my reasons?"
Sometimes you think that the sole cause of L's existence is just so he could annoy people for kicks. His questions are always peculiar, and you've learned that every single one of them is designed to lead towards some specific conclusion, preferably the one he wants. You have a feeling that if you say 'yes', L will proceed to list a hundred points about why kissing is good. And then another hundred why kissing him specifically is beneficial.
"No."
He looks at you. You look at him and raise the book higher.
"Indulging me would benefit both of us," L says, undeterred. "You're very curious by nature and I find it quite fascinating that you're able to deny your curiosity in this particular case."
Has a more obvious bait ever existed anywhere in human history? Probably not, and you'll bet your entire life savings on it too.
"I'm not curious," you lie, "now leave me alone. I want to read."
He leans forward. "You haven't focused on the book since I asked my question."
Smartass. You purse your lips and pretend that the characters are suddenly so interesting, that it's hard to look away from the intricacies of the plot unfolding inside this fictional world. At least things there make sense; no need to figure out the hidden meanings behind other people's words, because they are mostly transparent when there's a whole paragraph dedicated to the protagonist's feelings.
He reminds you of those spider-like creatures from documentaries ─ their actions seem random at first glance, yet upon further scrutiny prove to be anything but. Instead, they're meticulously crafted and executed to obtain maximum results.
L studies you for a little while longer, and eventually pads towards the kitchenette. The kettle whistles soon after as he makes himself tea; mint flavored, judging by the aroma wafting through the air.
______________________________________________________
You should have known that he won't give up ─ L is just as persistent as you are stubborn. If anything, you've set a challenge before him, and he tends to fixate on those until they are solved: a fact well-known and accepted among those who ever had a (dis)pleasure of interacting with him.
He doesn't outright ask you again, not the next day or the one after that. No. Accidentally, the only type of movies you're able to watch now are rom-coms or dramas with lots of kissing scenes sprinkled here and there between the banter bordering on cringe; sweet confessions spoken over candlelit dinners; passionate declarations whispered during sunsets... Clichés, amore, and kisses galore.
"I'm not sure this is the best movie for the evening," you say, as the screen flickers with images of two leads gazing into each other's eyes like they found the answers to every single question asked.
"The reviews are quite positive," L replies, munching on caramel popcorn.
"Reviews can be faked. And the trailer was misleading. I thought it was going to be an action movie."
"It is an action movie. The genres are listed right there," he points at the screen, and the words 'romance and action' stare back at you.
You frown and settle deeper into the couch cushions. It's uncomfortable ─ watching romantic scenes with L in the same room. His presence doesn't feel oppressive or demanding, yet you can't shake off the squirmy, twisty feeling. The kind when you enter an elevator with someone else and get slightly agitated for no reason. And so you try to slow down your breathing, but it only makes things worse. Your heart beats faster, palms start sweating and the hypothetical elevator stranger inevitably thinks that you're weird.
L isn't an elevator stranger. He's the owner of the elevator, and the entire building, and the city.
"He's going to die in the next ten minutes," you mutter.
"No, he won't."
"Yes, he will."
L hums. "Want a bet?"
Your eyes narrow.
"If he survives past the fifteen minute mark," L says slowly, "you indulge me."
"And if he doesn't?"
"I leave you alone for two days."
There's no hesitation on his side. None whatsoever, which proves suspicious immediately ─ L never offers something unless certain about the outcome beforehand, whether by logical deduction or calculated gamble. Probability factors run inside his brain instead of blood cells and grey matter, calculating risk vs return ratio quicker than any computer ever could.
You glance at the screen. It's a simple plot. There were a twist or two earlier, sure, but overall nothing extraordinary that would require hours upon hours of critical thinking to unravel.
A man, a woman. A handsome villain who wants them dead, for various reasons. They run and fight, shoot guns, dodge punches, and kiss between those because apparently there's time for romance even when a life is on the line.
It's a very simple plot; and two days are a lot to pretend that L doesn't exist. That you got rich enough to buy this kind of apartment.
"The speakers?"
"Switched off."
"The cameras?"
"Those will stay."
Of course, they will. You wouldn't expect anything less ─ privacy issues are non-existent here in more ways than one.
L isn't always a presence. Sometimes he leaves and you're alone with nothing but books and TV to pass time, but two days sound wonderful regardless. There's something in empty spaces that's enticing, even if they're temporary. L, for all his peculiarities, isn't too bad of a company. He's quiet, and often busy with his own matters. But he also has this way of looking at you that is unnerving. Like you're interesting. Or important. Or simply fascinating.
Sometimes he wants to talk, he wants to listen, he wants to ask questions and give answers until everything blurs into an amalgamation of words. It's exhausting.
Two days sound good. His hand is dry and slender. You grasp it and shake it once.
"I'll start the timer now," L says after your hands separate.
______________________________________________________
Twelve minutes.
Three more and he's dead.
You wish that he'd just kick the bucket already, so you could spend the next forty eight hours in pure, undiluted bliss.
_______________________________________________________
The male lead dies after seventeen minutes.
When the credits roll over, the apartment is silent except for the soft buzzing of electronics. You look at the screen, stubbornly, because you don't want to look at him, the owner of the elevator, and the building, and the city.
"It was close," he comments, as if trying to comfort you, which makes it even more of a sore spot.
That’s what L thrives on ─ technicalities, loopholes, small and seemingly insignificant details which are easily overlooked, yet make a great difference. You're not sure if you're annoyed, or disappointed. And what’s more important ─ at whom.
You have known for years that L tends to get his way eventually whenever there's something specific caught up in that head of his; a fixation which refuses to leave until satisfied, and sometimes even after. Snap. You can get up and head out of the living room, you know you can. Will you though is another question entirely.
L isn't a typical captor ─ he doesn't demand or force you into things. He simply presents a possibility and waits. Not aggressive or domineering, not sadistic. But oh he is a PhD of holding a grudge. Leaving now probably means waking up tomorrow and finding that every single disk has vanished without a trace, along with the bookshelves being switched for some obscure scientific texts on chemistry, physics and other things that require an advanced degree to fully understand.
Because someone decided that you don’t deserve entertainment anymore. Because someone is petty enough to deprive you of basic mental stimuli, and is stubborn enough to hold onto that decision even when reasoned with. Unsuccessfully.
It's a talent really, this particular brand of making your life miserable in many small ways, so they accumulate into something greater over time until you feel like the walls are closing in slowly but surely.
You can't back out, even though no one openly stops you from doing so. And L knows that. And he knows that you know. His lips twitch and curl upward before flattening again into neutral territory.
There's a theory that if you pull a band-aid fast enough, it won't hurt as much. The credibility behind it is questionable.
You exhale and meet L's gaze ─ his posture hasn't changed from the beginning to the end of the film, knees tucked to his chest, eyes two dark pools that stare without blinking. His fingers drum a steady rhythm, and that's probably the only sign that gives it away.
Anticipation.
"Fine," you say finally.
His mouth opens before closing back again. L doesn't move a bit.
He wants you to do it, you realize. Wants you to initiate instead of just allowing it. What an ass.
You squish his cheeks between your palms until his lips pucker outwards. L makes a soft noise of surprise but doesn't try to fight back.
Black lashes cast a shadow across his skin. There's no perfume or cologne, no distinct smell ─ he uses plain soap and shampoo which don't have a discernible aroma.
"I believe I was promised an indulgence," L says, voice muffled a bit by your hands on his face.
He looks like a fish this way. A silly, ridiculous image that would make you snort if not for the situation at hand.
Band-aids and ripping them off.
You sigh, lean forward, and press your mouth to his.
He tastes like caramel popcorn.
Mint tea.
Indulgence.
The angle is awkward, and L doesn't move an inch to accommodate the position. He stays still like a block of solid rock, not a single muscle twitches, and doesn't even attempt to reciprocate. You have half a mind to think that maybe he's mocking you, but then his fingers lightly curl on the fabric of his jeans. L's eyelids flutter half-closed when your noses bump, then open again right after. Another oddity added to the pile.
It lasts no longer than ten seconds before you pull away. L blinks. Touches his lower lip with the tip of a finger and rubs it like searching for traces left by the contact.
"You were promised an indulgence," you remind him, trying to sound calm, collected, but your ears and neck feel hot, "not a make-out session."
Technicalities and loopholes.
L has that look you can't quite pinpoint yet know far too well. You've seen it many times before. When he thinks about something but keeps it to himself for now.
"You look more lively," he remarks eventually. "Healthy complexion suits you."
You don't need to hear what he says next, because the words already ring through your head.
"I told you it would benefit us both."
#shalott fanfiction#shalott imagine#yandere#death note#yandere l lawliet#yandere l lawliet x reader#yandere l x reader
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Redemption
Levi Ackerman x Fem!Reader
Synopsis: For you, freedom comes in the form of college life. However, soon you come to realize that tethering liberating steps for way too long will get you to situations you don't want to be in.
Tropes: Professor/Student, explicit smut
Warnings: profanity, age gap (Reader is in early 20s, Levi is in his early to mid 30s), drug abuse, smoking, alcoholism, implied nudity and blackmail, body shot, toxic college life, toxic friendship dynamics, college/modern AU, no mentions if y/n.
Word count: 3.6k
Event: submission for levievent under the prompt of day 10 - age differences.
A/N: after a lot of contemplation, I have decided to let it be a two-shot series. The next part will contain filthy smut, hopefully updated by tomorrow and pls excuse any mistakes on this part, my laptop broke down so I had to type it on my phone. Hope you enjoy!
Divider credits - @cafekitsune
|NEXT|
This isn't supposed to be happening.
You aren't supposed to be bend over your professor's desk, skirt raised up and have your cunt pulsating over his cock like a damn virgin.
He clicks his tongue, "Filthy brat," tightening his hold over your binded wrists as his pelvis smacks against yours in a uniform rhythm. "Don’t tell me you're cumming so soon. We haven't even started yet."
Your cheek rests on the hard mahogany desk, polished and clean as your eyes roll back from the way his cock just hits your g-spot with every thrust. The drool runs down your lips, too lust drunk to care and too traversed beyond reality to give him a verbal answer as he continues to assault your puffy folds with his shaft. Slick runs down your thighs, dripping on the floor as the room reeks with the combined juices of your arousal. He reaches down, pressing his thumb on your swollen bud and you're sent over the edge.
Shit!
How did this happen?
.
You have been caged your whole life.
Therefore, when freedom came knocking at your door, you didn't have any second thoughts from breaking free of the chains that binded you to a gilded cage. For you, freedom came in the form of college life.
If anyone from your highschool years saw you now, they wouldn't be able to recognize you with the 180 degree turn in personality, makeover and peer choices. A complete change. The most significant change could be your schedule. While you were living under the stern gaze of your parents, you had a timetable to maintain which prescribed when and how you should be present at particular places. That timetable was taken, crumbled up and thrown in the trashcan as soon as you got the gist of dormitory life. Besides, with your peers indulging in situations they shouldn't be, why should you hold back? (Like c'mon, you need to live your life as well)
Previously, you'd spend Friday nights in the confines of your bedroom while blasting your favourite playlist in your earphones and doing your homework. Now, the same music would boom but you are swaying your hips to it, bopping yourself and getting lost in the game of dance under the neon lights of the frat house. Red cups and beer pongs would escalate, which you readily partook in with the addition of forgettable one night stands. You told yourself that you liked the air of random hook ups while you were high, for it left you guessing that which brother of the fraternity you had fucked or not. While vodka and a night of reprieve was one thing, you looked forward to the coke. The very coke which once inhaled, made the euphoria burst in your system while ecstasy took over and you'd find yourself falling under the spell of intoxication.
Mind blank as a canvas and too high on serotonin levels, the fog of inebriation would cloud your eyes and you'd get lost in another midnight rhapsody. Can you blame yourself? College is meant for trying out all the pleasures of life, right? A hub for fuck boys and girls seeking validation from each other by fucking their daylights out. The minority who inclined themselves to academics were clearly missing out on all the joys life had to offer.
However, you didn't know that your favourite coke would be the reason of your downfall.
Maybe, you should have known better.
No– of course, you should have known better.
What were you thinking?
You should have stayed inside that night instead of going out to the same frat house, when you had an important physical chemistry exam the next day.
As far as you can remember, you were paired with a jock of the football team for flip cup. Although, hazed memories you noted the strawberry blond hair styled back and amber eyes. Maybe his name was John? Or Jean? Whatever, you only remember winning the game and getting your hands on the coke. Sooner than anyone had the time to comprehend, you were lining the powder on your finger edge and inhaling it generously.
Did it not raise a series of ooh's and aah's from the onlookers?
Like all the previous nights, your eyes were open wide with the crimson tint staining your sclera as you got lost in the ebullient maelstrom. Combined with the alcohol already running in your system, it didn't take long for the waves to crash ove. In this reverie you didn't realize when you were situated on the table, with grains of salt being sprinkled over your navel by your partner. He dipped his head down– mouth filled with tequila– swirling and lapping the warm muscle over your skin, feasting on the granules and you didn't even care with all your senses falling numb.
Anyone can guess what would be the outcome of attending an exam when the after effects of the powder fails to cease. With a pounding headache and being unaware of most of the answers, you can't say you were surprised to see your grade.
The capital F beside your name stares back at you from the mark list.
.
"Can't be that bad."
"It is."
"Not so," Your friend giggles, raking her fingers through her ash-blond hair. "It's only one exam, cheer up."
You bit your inner cheek, heaving a deep sigh. "This exam marks forty percect of my overall grade, Hitch. And with the way, my marks have gone down the drain, I don't think I'll even be able to pass this year."
That's an honest concern on your part because the final report would be sent to your parents as well and if they ever saw you failing one class, you don't know what hell they'll raise. Besides, the excuses of sickness and tougher lessons can only be used so far. (Plus, your heart thumped in your chest with the thought if they ever find out about this new lifestyle of yours... let's not think about it).
"You know," Hitch muses, leaning back on her Chair as she blows a strawberry bubblegum in her mouth. " You can ask for extra credit."
"Yeah sure," You don't bother to hide sarcastic tone, rolling your eyes and choosing to rest your chin on top of your palm. "There's no chance."
She raises an eyebrow, "Why not?"
"It's professor Ackerman," That almost comes out as a whine. "He is ruthless as he is, always with the poker look on his face and I can swear he won't even smile at a clown."
A sheepish smile curls up her lips but before she can speak, you start again.
"Plus, I am already on his bad books. Do you think he'll be all unicorns and rainbows when I ask for credits?" You fold your hand over your chest, gritting your teeth as if the cause of your predicament is the man in question; he isn't but you need something to get off your vexation. "That's straight up walking in a lion's den and I am sure he will come for my head."
"Oh, girl..." She sighs, interlocking her fingers together and perching them over the tabletop. "But why would he even do that when you will give him a show?"
That catches your interest, "a show?"
"A show," She nods, the upper pair of her teeth is revealed as she smiles, waving her finger in a circular motion in the air. "Just follow my advice."
.
You have never heard an advice as bad as that.
Correction:
You have never found yourself following an advice as bad as that.
Still, you find yourself here. Outside your professor's office, gazing at the ivory sign engraved with the obsidian lettering – Levi Ackerman, while you contemplate on how much this plan can go wrong. (In your opinion, 100%).
However, you are desperate and your desperation has brought you here. So why not...?
You knock on the door. Once. Twice. Stating your name as you suck in a deep breath, squaring your shoulders.
Please don't let it be long.
A deep voice reverberates from inside, "State your business."
"I would... like to discuss about my grades. May I come in, sir?"
"Yes."
You breath in, the knob turns and you set a foot inside.
"Remember," Hitch says, crossing one of her leg over the another. "You gotta look desperate." The tilt of your head and parting of your lips, garners her to explain more. "The first two," She snaps her fingers to the collar of your shirt, "Unbuttoned."
"What?!" On instinct, you fold your hand over your chest, twisting your torso in the opposite direction. "Are you out of your mind?"
"You want to increase your grades or not?"
"I do but–"
"No buts," The girl shushes you with a finger over your lips. "You want to get your way through college, you follow me. Got that?"
Left with no choice, you find yourself nodding.
The clicks of your heel seems to echo in the vast expanse of his office. It's almost afternoon and the orange glow of the setting sun pours into the space marring it with the similar hues. Late classes are adjourned for the day as the marks were announced. On top of that, its Friday. Therefore, regular classes would be starting after the weekend. The campus is almosy empty except a few staff and students lurking around the corners; a perfect opportunity to follow the plan.
Your find your professor to be seated across his desk, engrossed in reading a file while a pen is nestled between his thumb and pointer. As soon as he is aware of your presence, he looks up at you.
Instead of halting, a good distance away from his desk, you are walking up to it. Letting yourself stop within a meter of his proximity.
"What do you need to discuss?"
Prompt and straight to the point—as expected.
Lips breaking into a grin, you spin a strand of your open hair around your fingers. Leaning forward–it's apparent, what you're aiming at–you speak, "I was wondering... if I could get some extra credit in your class, sir?"
"He is your professor, that's your minus," She states with a lilt of her mouth. "But you're his student, that's his minus."
Levi raises an eyebrow, "Extra credit, you say?"
"He is a man, after all. And all men are perverts, give them a show of your assets and they'll be dancing on your drums."
He continues with a twitch of his lip, "And why would I do that?"
"Give him all the performance he needs," Her eyes darts south, she tugs on the fabric of your skirt."The shorter this is, the higher your grades will be."
"You seem to know all about their psyches." You comment, pinching your lips and smoothening the material over your knees.
That evokes a laugh,"Babe, how do you think I keep my grades up?"
By following the same advice she has given you.
In accordance to her, a face full of makeup with tits on show and the skirt raised enough to give a generous view of legs—one can make the professor's their very own puppets. So, once the same advice and opportunity is presented to you, why should you back down?
"Well," You start, plopping yourself on the chair across him, crossing your legs one over the other–hiking up your (already)shortened skirt. "I am sure we can work something out like..." arching your elbow on the table, you let your manicured fingers drum against your cheek; a seductive approach. This should work. "You don't want one of your students to be held back now, do you, sir?"
He stares at you for a solid minute. A blink of his eyes follow.
You shift in your position—offering him a rather salacious view of your cleavage. Come on. Your visage holds innocence akin to a child learning the first steps of the world.
One thing about Professor Ackerman that enthralls you is just how attarctive he could be despite his age. Probably a decade older than you but he certainly carries the enigma of a young man charmed with the maturity of someone his age. Gray eyes, dark bangs in an undercut and he just dresses so much better than all of the male peers you have encountered. And a lot better than all of your filthy hookups.
Even then, he is a man. Just look at it. The silence is stretching for a minute too long and dare you say, its almost suffocating.
While Levi's eyes are on you—something which you do want—he rather seems to be scrutinizing your behaviour than satisfy his inner perverse attitude.
Maybe he keeps this face even while jerking off.
That thought alone raises a cinch of chuckle to escape your mouth. His eyebrows furrow. At last, he speaks. "How long have you been in my class?"
Seriously? Is he so keen on continuing this game of back and forth. Shouldn't he be asking you how much grades you require by now?
"Patince is the key."
Hitch's words ring in your mind and you follow her again. "Since the start to second year?"
He crosses his arm over his chest, muscles flexing under his dress shirt as he leans back on his chair. You mark how there's a gleam in his eyes before he continues, "And how many exams have you taken until now?"
"Three? Why are you... asking that?"
"You'll know soon enough," he pauses, letting a string of tension to seep in through his body language. And as much as you don't want it to bother you, it is bothering you. "In which of those exams have you got a grade over sixty percent?"
"Um, uh sir–" You fumble over your words, raking your brain for any suitable response and while your grades is actually being discussed—a pang of exposure swirls in with the way you are dressed. "I don't remember..."
"Never."
"O-oh," Unease ripples through you, crumbling the calm veneer you are trying to maintain.
His gaze hardens, a tick of jaw and the creases on his forehead just shows he isn't in the mood for your performance. "Why?"
Only a low chuckle is released, attempting to depress the palpable tension."My bad... ah– you see, I don't have a good memory and that's why my grades are... well, you know."
"When have you ever cosulted me with the problem regarding your memory?" He cocks his head to the side, inverting the hourglass on his table. Shifting his attention back to you, he asks, "Besides, have you ever truly followed through my lesson in class? Ever tried to do your assignments by yourself?"
"Of course, I did," a clear cut lie but he doesn't have to know that. "But they are too difficult. You can't blame me, college is tough on its own and I have so many subjects to study–"
You wish to continue with your rant but the terse call of your name stops you on your tracks. His lips are curled down and he looks at you with utter disdain as if you were a bug. "If you have even paid a bit of attention in my class then you should know that I mark half of your grades by your attentiveness and student conduct. Something–" You swallow a lump in your throat, slumping your shoulders and hiding your chest from his gaze. "–you clearly lack and with the absolute shit you write on your answer sheets, you should know better than to expose your body in the name of discussion."
Blank.
You are completely blanked out.
What is there to say even?"
You chew on your lower lip, eyes flickering to anywhere but him. Clutching the mesh of your skirt in your hold. This meeting isn't unfolding like anything Hitch said about. You manage to exhale a breath, trying to hide your with your hairs, "Sir... I guess, I should take– I should leave now."
Only slightly you raise yourself from the chair, Levi speaks again, "So soon?" You sheepishly nod, giving way that this encounter wouldn't be to your favour. "We were just getting started. Besides, there's something more I need to discuss with you."
You look at him from beneath your lashes. It's funny how timid you are now. "Like what?"
"I've heard rumors of students getting their hands on question sheets by– let's say, means," He opens his drawer, pulling out a folder. "So... I played a little game with y'all. Changing the question paper, last minute was tedious- but doable." He twists his lips, picking out a A5 sized paper with contents hidden from you. He keeps his eyes on it while speaking again, "Humorously, you seem to answer only those questions perfectly which were leaked–"
"Excuse me?" You intervene, quickly. "I have no connection with this paper leak mess."
"Then how do you explain your tardiness with the paper, this time?" Steel eyes have shifted to you, "As much of a bratty student you can be, you aren't the type to completely fail unless–"
"You're just accusing me or something, I haven't done. When I say I have no connections with paper leak, I mean it."
"Then how do you explain your–"
"I don't fucking know. Just a coincidence or– whatever!"
"Coincidence? You really expect me to believe that?"
"It's not on me if you believe me or not. I have gave you my statement and you should know better than to accuse me of something just because you hate me."
"Very well, then" He tilts his head, shrugging his shoulders. "I will just have the dean rusticate you–"
"You can't do that. I didn't even know about all this."
"You want to tell me that you weren't cursing out loud while writing the paper? Don't try to lie, Zacharius told me about your indency in exam hall."
"That was because I was high on coke not— no, I–" Your eyes widen as soon as you realize your fumbling. Lips parted, you are more apprehended as the blood drains from your cheeks. "No, I- uh... I didn’t mean that, j-just a slip of tongue."
As for Levi, he merely stares back at you and... is that a smirk on his lips? It sure is. A triumphant ghost of a smirk directed at you while you began to drown in the whirlpool of despair. "At least, you remember that."
He flips both the paper to you and if your heart wasn't beating with a 10x speed before, it sure is now. Your jaw hangs open, shoulders becoming rigid and the air knocked off your lungs like you've been punches to the gut.
Pictures.
They are pictures, yes and it would have been fine of it was just that but it isn't. In the very pictures, you find yourself. One with a cigarette between your lips and from the background it is starkly evident that it's the college campus. The second is more precarious for you're clicked with some of your pals but it's shot in a way that only your face is visible while the group blows on a pot of Marijuana.
You wrestled with a deep-sated fear, eyes thoroughly scrutinizing each speck and corner of the photos—something, anything to prove that it isn't you. That it's framed, that all of it is a big misunderstanding. The dread of facing your professor overshadows all the protests stringing on your mouth; they won't even be let out if you try.
"It's a shame really," His voice echoes, the screeching of the chair is heard before he is sauntering over to the other end of the room. "I had better expectations from you."
You don't register the mocking call of your name, physically unable to. The adrenaline surges through your veins, goosebumps arising on your body with each passing second.
You need to leave. Run. Soon. Now.
You find yourself frozen in your place.
"I wonder what your parents would have to say–"
"No, sir." Instantly you crane your neck over to him, nails digging on the armrests of your chair. Your shoulders rise and fall as the hypertension settles in you. Your heart is thumping in your ears, fingers are trembling with anticipation and to add insult to the injury, darkness has started to commence. "Not my parents, please sir. Th-they– I don't know what they'll do to me. Plesse sir, j-just not that."
He leans against the door of his office, gazing at you with mere casualty, "You think you are in the position to make requests?" His irises flicks to the corner of the room. "You've made your bed. Now lie on it."
"Sir, please–" You are on the verge where you wouldn't have a second thought before begging on your knees. Something's pooling in your eyes and it stings as bad as your nails on the wooden armrests. "Anything but that. I will complete all of your assignments and I'll personally improve my grades without anyone's help. Sir, just one chance, please."
He huffs, twisting his lips as if a mirthful play is being presented to him. "Why should I believe you? Have you ever given me a reason to know you're reliable?"
"Sir, I have to try." Instantly, you stand up, marching over to him. "And– and I know I've been indecent–"
"Irresponsible and obnoxious, as well."
"Yes," It's painful but you have no other choice. "I know and I am sorry. Really sorry, just give me another chance."
He tips his head towards you, narrowing his eyes, "You think, you're redeemable?"
"Yes, sir. Of course, I am ready to do anything to prove it to you."
His eyes sparkles with something you can't decipher, "very well," He straightens up, taking a singular step towards you—only now, you're aware of how limited proximity but before you can contemplate, he speaks, "Let's start your first lesson on redemption."
#magic!writes#levimonth24#levi ackerman x reader#levi ackerman#levi x reader#levi#levi ackerman smut#levi smut#levi ackerman x reader smut#levi ackerman x you#levi x you#aot#aot x reader#attack on titan#snk#snk x reader#shingeki no kyojin#aot levi#levi aot#levi x y/n#levi ackerman x female reader#levi ackerman fanfiction#aot smut
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How woud Aemond react to his wife cheating... in chess?
Every time he looks away, she steals a piece off of the board and just smiles when he looks back at her. Like she isn't even trying to win she's just doing this to mess with him a little
Oh wow, I found another drunk drabble prompt! Thank you Anon, this is a hilarious follow up to the message I answered "How would Aemond react to his wife cheating" haha
Aemond x wife!reader | tipsy reader | cheating at chess | Aemond indulging his lady, teasing ensues
"It's your turn, Y/N."
You continued sipping on your wine, your mind already fuzzy from the drink, swirling the bitter liquid around in your mouth as you studied the chessboard in consternation.
Aemond sat back in his chair, his lips pressed together as he watched you with a mixture of impatience and amusement.
He opened his mouth to say something else, but you held up a hand to shush him. "I'm thinking."
"A demanding endeavor, it seems."
"I'm not losing to you again, Aemond."
"Perhaps more wine would help." He smirked, catching your eye as you shot him a withering look, taking another deliberate swig from your goblet.
"Fine." You moved your rook forward several spaces.
You winced as Aemond immediately took your piece with his knight. "Fuck."
"Check."
You groaned, holding the rim of your cool glass against your aching temple.
A servant bearing more drink arrived, drawing away your husband's attention for a few crucial moments. You reached forward, surreptitiously removing Aemond's own rook from the board and stowing it in the cushions beside you. "Ah, thank you." You beamed at the servant as he refilled your cup.
Aemond was studying his board with a raised brow, his violet eye flicked up to your studiously neutral expression. "Your move, Y/N."
"Oh yes, of course."
This went on several more minutes; you losing your pieces to Aemond's keen strategizing and him losing his own pieces whenever he was sufficiently distracted enough for you to steal them.
As Aemond turned his head to observe a group of guards moving across the hall, you tried to take away his queen without him taking notice. Long fingers caught your wrist as Aemond turned swiftly back to you, aware the whole time of your ruse. He pulled you toward him, unseating you and causing you to tumble onto his lap, scattering the remaining pieces across the board.
"You tried to take my queen?" He rolled his eye, snorting a short laugh. "You do know cheating at chess is nigh impossible."
"I'm the only queen you need, my king." You giggled, feeling his dexterous fingers begin probing at the ticklish part of your sides.
Your face was flushed from the wine and the sudden proximity of the Targaryen prince you called husband.
Aemond sighed, hoisting you so you were more securely seated against him. "I've always thought it interesting the queen is the one with the most power over the board." You watched him with soft adoration as he continued his musing. "She is the one with the most power to protect the king."
"I'd protect you with my life too." You nuzzled into the crook of his neck, feeling the low vibration of his chuckling, his grip on you tightening slightly.
"My ember." Aemond said affectionately into your hair before placing a gentle kiss to your crown.
The warmth of his arms encircling you combined with the heady heat of the wine caused your eyes to droop with sleepy contentment. "Take me to bed, Aemond." You murmured, your lips brushing the soft skin of his neck.
"As my lady commands." He rose with you in his arms, your arms coming to grip around his shoulders as he strode toward your chambers. "Remind me to not play chess with you while you're drinking."
"You're just a sore loser." You smiled, kissing his temple. "My strategizing prowess is clearly too much for you to handle."
"Hmm." Was your terse answer, Aemond shaking his head in fond bemusement as he carried you to bed.
#aemond fluff#aemond drunk drabble#aemond x reader#aemond x you#aemond x y/n#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond fanfic#aemond#aemond targaryen#aemond imagine#aemond drabble#aemond one eye#prince aemond x reader#hotd aemond x reader#hotd x reader#hotd drabble#house of the dragon aemond#aemond targaryen fluff#aemond targaryen fanfic#aemond stannies#pro aemond targaryen
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Prompt: "Will You Marry Me?" - Proposal Headcannons Characters: Everyone :) Part(s): Heartslabyul, Savanaclaw, Octavinelle (Here!), Scarabia, Pomefiore, Ignihyde, Diasomnia(Pt.1)(Pt.2) Fandom: Twisted Wonderland Warning(s): None. I mean, unless you don't want to marry any of them. Just don't read if that's the case. Note: These are all if he is the one proposing btw. I've been thinking about maybe programming a small fan-made mini-otome using these ideas. Just for some practice for school while also being self indulgent hehe
Azul Ashengrotto
Fortune. Azul is one fortunate soul. At least, not he thinks himself to be.
and to think that it's because of sheer luck. He did not work for you. He did not climb or claw or plan for you. He did nothing.
No, you chose him. You saw him at his lowest and decided that he was worth becoming friends with. You actively sought him out...just to spend time at his side. Regularly. You enjoyed Azul's company
and over time, he grew to enjoy yours. Immensely. Like a giddy school-girl, his heart fluttered at the thought of you and all his notebooks were covered in doodle hearts.
This was it for him. Azul is a one and done kind of man. It’s you or it’s no one. Which means that it obviously is going to be you because hello??? Azul is not a quitter.
During your younger years as students….he may have been a bit too ambitious. In other words, Azul has proposed many times
And in turn has been rejected. Many. Times.
It began passively. He’d mention here and there his future plans for after schooling. Try to talk himself up, yeah? He’s going to be a big business man, isn’t that just perfect husband material? He can take care of you easily so there’s no need to stress.
Naturally you pushed off these moments as daydreaming and casual joking. Nothing serious. So he ups his game. It just so happens that he mistakenly got a bridal magazine in the mail…oh, look at these dresses and suits! So fancy. So beautiful…oh, you would look absolutely darling in one.
….oh sweet merciful seven please take the HINT. He is LITERALLY throwing himself at you
He ups his game. Again. A romantic candle lit dinner for two. The works. Jazz music, slow dancing, good company, and the casual proposal y’know just your average date.
You have to be doing it on purpose
In your defense. He did not flat out say “will you marry me,” because he chickened out. Instead he asked if you’d like to live with him after graduation as…roommates.
The world is out to get this poor man. It is. It truly just wants him to crash and burn in embarrassment. The way you laughed and went “I think we’re a bit more than that, don’t you think?” HAUNTS him
He screamed into his pillow that night. For hours. Floyd still gives him shit for it
Life continues this way. For reasons unknown…he just couldn’t bring himself to be direct. Which is so unlike Azul considering he spent years toughening himself up.
Maybe deep down he did fear that things wouldn’t work out. A merman and a human…what if you did not want to lige in the sea? What if his body could not sustain human form for long term? Maybe he wanted you to take initiative and prove him wrong. Eventually he did give up.
At least until you both aged into the “roommates”he dreamed about. There were trials and compromise. He never thought to have two homes, one by the ocean and one literally inside of it. Life was perfect….just without the title. And on one random night, Azul thinks “One more time,”. No elaborate ruse. No trickery to get you to ask him. Just….
“Will you marry me?,” Azul whispered into your shoulder. You both lay together in your shared bedroom with nothing but the sound of crashing waves coming in from the outside. Your steady breathing halts, proving that you heard him. With a sigh, he reaches to massage your scalp, “I do not know if you have realized by now…no, I am sure of it. No one is that dense. I won’t pry for why you have ignored my past attempts…all I ask is that you answer this. Will you marry me, (Y/N)? Having you at my side has truly made me the most fortunate man alive,”
{ A black pearl over a gold band. One of the most ultimate displays of wealth. Azul is well aware that this is not the traditional pathway. He could have easily acquired a ‘genuine’ Pearl, perhaps a diamond - but no. You are a rarity. A true jewel. Only a ring worthy to reflect that is worth buying. You were the most unexpected thing and are now the most cherished. This ring represents that,}
Jade Leech
The want caught him by surprise one day, which is rare. Jade is never thrown off guard. At least, not easily.
Then again, you have always been the most difficult person for him to predict. Something he finds very charming since there is always an upbeat atmosphere wherever you go. If his days were a dimming flame, you would be just the right amount of Co2 to spark some fun - not that he would easily admit to it.
Albeit so, Jade is not blind to his emotions. He hides them well underneath a polite smile - but they are there. He is aware of them.
Which is why he snatched you up early on. A relationship was the last thing he thought to find on the surface (or in general, honestly), but Jade knows what he wants when he sees it.
He merely asks you on a date with confidence. You accept, and the process repeats until an unspoken bond formed between the two of you. Not a soul in the nearby vicinity would dare make a move on you with his lingering presence. Jade was pacified, entertained, and happily content with your circumstance.
A circumstance that Jade gets maybe a bit too comfortable with. Just like surprise, it takes a lot for Jade for feel secure. The only person he has truly felt that with is his brother. This lack of overbearing responsibility, where something is being unspoken. No ulterior motive or underlying tone in your actions that make him have to over-analyze.
In the beginning he thought of your bluntness as an extra entertainment factor. Something that he could count on to make those brief unpredictable situations amusing. Yet, as time passed he notices that it's comforting. When he's with you, Jade turns his brain off. Not entirely, of course. He still needs to throw in witty quips and fluster you at LEAST twice per day.
but it's different. It's a different comfort than what he feels with his sibling or with his friend. It's new, and strangely similar to how he feels when he forages while hiking. Perhaps finding peace in another person...maybe there is merit. Hah. Yet another surprise.
On an evening long past curfew, Jade was tending to his botany collection and miniature greenhouse. You sat on his bed, watching videos on your phone. It was almost like you weren't there with him, yet not since he felt your presence. However, there was no pressure to talk or be attentive. He found himself enjoying your presence alone, and it slipped.
"If this is how our days will be when we live together, then perhaps sharing one life is not as inconceivable as I once thought," he said amidst trimming one of his herb plants. Jade turns curiously when he hears a thump from behind, and sees you gawking at him. You had lost your grip on the cell phone, and it fell to the ground.
He eyes you suspiciously. What's startled you? He doubts that any video could render you speechless.
....he spoke aloud, yes? Not in his head. Now it's Jade's turn to lose his composure.
Another surprise, but this is his own doing. Jade has not had a slip of the tongue since his childhood. Even then it was rare. He's never experienced this kind of mess-up...yet, you don't appear appalled.
Jade places the clippers down, and coughs into his gloved hand, "well, it appears I have gotten a loose tongue. It must be from your influence, no doubt". He stands, and moves to sit next to you on his bed, "I've never spoken out of place before, you know. Do you know what this means? I've become weak...and perhaps it it is time you take responsibility for these newfound emotions. I fully intend for many moments like these to happen, and for you to not leave my side. When it is time to leave this place, I believe you will join me. No, I am certain of it"
{An eye of lapis. A reminder that he is always watching - waiting, to see you again. The gem is not see-through. It’s a tough stone. Yet it is beautiful and is appreciated nonetheless. Enough said}
Floyd leech
At first, you believed him to have an obsession. Many did, actually.
The judgement isn't uncalled for either. Floyd's emotions towards you are very strong. With the way he loves to tease and follow you around - he's got a deep attachment. He's always demanding your attention, pulling you from your duties, starting trouble, and nosy. Floyd is oh so nosy and into everything in your life.
You're a toy. His little Shrimpy. The plaything that he absolutely adores and loves to watch. You're the Friday night sitcom to his late-90s grandma.
That's how you see it because that's how he portrays it. With others in agreeance, it is easy to overlook the small undertones in his actions. Especially since he's a touchy and emotional person normally.
Somehow, Floyd had himself tricked as well. He didn't akin his emotions to obsession, but he did think that you were a toy that he would
eventually out-grow. At the start, it really was just a game for him. He liked your reactions and therefore decided to keep you around.
Yet, he never got bored. Eventually the fun events around you stopped being what he found interesting, and instead he liked you alone. Floyd being Floyd instantly tried to confess this, not wanting to waste another minute. Yet you never believed him.
He brushed it off. You'd come around. Not a day went by without him by your side. To the average onlooker (and you, to Floyd's dismay) this still appeared normal. Weeks past by like nothing.
Only the people closest to Floyd see the small giveaways. Like how he glares holes into the mirror portal every morning, or gets snappy with customers if you take too long to visit the Monstro Lounge at night. There's a booth saved, every evening with no student brave enough to go near it unless they want their head chopped off.
When he gives you a 'squeeze,' he never wraps his arms around your stomach. He instead smothers your head and goes tightly around the shoulders. Your squeezes are special. He loves them.
or the name 'Shrimpy'. How he says it to you in public, but in private he occasionally lets your real name slip out. This normally happens during moments when he feels "bored,"(i.e has nothing to talk about) or lighthearted (the rare moments when you get him to relax). Floyd has never said that name with anything other than a positive emotion, despite his mood swings. Shrimpy is his calling card for you, and only his. Yet your name is different. He feels a tummy-twisting kind of weird when he says it.
but the biggest change is Floyd's attitude towards danger when it comes to you. Before, he thrived on it. He liked to hear your stories and be part of the fun. He took joy from the scary adventures you got wrapped into; heck, he was one of them.
Now he gets morbid. Not like how he was before, with eerie threats and a suspenseful aura. He never actually acted unless told to do so, since the over-blots and delinquent students were your problem, not his.
One afternoon, you didn't show up to have lunch with him. That already made him irritable since you know better than to no-show. Did you want a squeeze? Huh, Shrimpy? He'll give you one later.
Then two students come in, all snickering and acting suspicious. Strike two. Now Floyd is upset AND annoyed. Others in the area can feel the animosity in the air.
"Did you see their face? Psh. That'll teach some snot-nosed no-mag to act all mighty. If they know what's good for them, they'll go back to whatever sh*t-hole they came from alrea-" The no-face couldn't finish his sentence. Not with one of the infamous Leech twins gripping his arm tight enough to snap bone.
Floyd smiled, "oh~ So you're the reason my little shrimp isn't eating lunch with me, aren't ya? So. What'd ya do? C'mon guys, I want to know what 'lesson' ya taught, " as Floyd spoke, his grip gradually tightened and he stared straight into the other student's eyes. Each word came out harsher than the last.
They broke quick, as he suspected. With a rough shove Floyd pushed them aside to find you. He had their faces memorized. Let them live in fear for a bit until he collects due payment. For now?
Floyd finds you at your home. He doesn't bother to knock and bursts through the front door, only to see you nursing a black eye on the couch with some ice. He wastes no time in taking it and kneeling in front of you.
Floyd holds the ice to your eye - a bit too harsh- and clenches his jaw when you wince. You won't meet his eyes and it only pisses him off more, "Oi. Look at me," and you do with your one eye. "Why didn't you call me. Why'd you not show up," You sigh and reach a hand to cover his, "because I knew you'd be pissed... I handled it, okay? No need to fake the whole 'I will protect you, my little Shrimpy' scenario. We both know that's not your thing, "
You're wrong. It's not a scenario. You can dismiss his flirting all you want, but even Floyd has a limit. Do you not see how absolutely wreaked overhearing those airheads made him? He's going to do worse than you can think. He won't kill them. No, he'll make sure that no one messes with you anymore. You can't see it, but on the inside he is over it. Done. Finished. Officially has 0% patience.
"Did you know that every time you spout crap like that, it pisses me off? I don't 'act,' because that's boring. I'm not lyin' when I say I like you, and you better start believin' it because I'm over the niceties. If someone messes with you, they mess with me. You're in deep (Y/N) and I'm not letting go, so wait here while I handle some little pests. I love ya. I act this way BECAUSE I love ya. Quit denying me already,"
No one will ever mess with you again. Not with the sparkly little gem on your ring finger, tying you to one of the largest and most threatening groups in the undersea world to date.
{ An aquamarine tear. In all honesty, Floyd did not put much thought into his gem. It sparkled. It is the color of his hair streak (or close to it). He imagined it on your finger and thought that it would stand out - ensuring that anyone and everyone could see it. He thought of your possible expression upon seeing it, and was sold}
#twisted wonderland#twst#twst x reader#twisted wonderland x reader#twst imagines#twst scenarios#twisted wonderland imagines#twisted wonderland scenarios#twst azul ashengrotto#azul ashengrotto x reader#twisted wonderland azul ashengrotto x reader#twst floyd leech#twisted wonderland floyd leech#floyd leech#floyd leech x reader#twst jade leech#jade leech x reader#octavinelle#octovinelle#idk i cant remember how to spell it rn
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Day 5; Gloves.
╰┈➤"Holding hands comes naturally in a relationship, is what you'd expect. Until you realise, Azul has never removed his gloves, hasn't he?"
╰►Gender neutral reader, oneshot, 1k words.
╰► Character: Azul Ashengrotto, pre-established relationship.
╰►Note: The prompts are based on words I found interesting and then I put them on a roulette to decide when I would write about them, lol. English is not my first language, so please let me know if there are any grammatical mistakes <3. Not proof read, I haven't written in a long time, so I apologise if anything is out of character.
╰►Masterlist / Inktober Masterlist.
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“Azul?”
“Yes, angelfish?”
“How come I’ve never held your hand?”
“We’ve held hands dear, multiple time already.”
“Of course, but I mean, without your gloves on.”
“Oh…”
(Y/n) laid on one of the sofas of Mostro Lounge’s VIP room, a book on their hands that they were supposed to read for their History of Magic, which was now left behind as they were more interested in Azul’s answer. As usual, the housewarden was on his desk, working on some contracts, promptly leaving his pen down to focus his attention on the magicless student.
The couple had been together for a few weeks now; enough time for Azul to get used to sharing his time, but not enough to openly speak his mind without filter.
“Well…I guess we’ve never had the opportunity to do so.” He replied after thinking about it for about seconds.
“How about now?” The Prefect asked, leaving their book on a table nearby, resting their elbows on the armrest of the sofa to look at housewarden more properly, being able to observe the delicate reddish tone that made its way to adorn his cheeks.
“Aren’t you supposed to be studying?”
“And you’re supposed to be working, yet you’re indulging me, so don’t make excuses.” They chuckled softly, observing Azul for a moment, before frowning slightly. “Perhaps I didn’t consider that you may be uncomfortable by the sensation of someone touching your skin. Do you have hands, when you’re on your octopus form?” The Prefect asked genuinely.
“Of course, I do! Why are you even asking that?” Azul answered immediately, his voice an octave higher due to how absurd their question seemed to be.
“Because I’ve never seen your octopus form and I’m not even from this world, there’s no way for me to know.” They explained nonchalantly. “The Coral Sea culture is as unknown for me as the land culture was for you at first.”
“I’ll let you know that I’m very knowledgeable in land culture, dear.” The Octavinelle second-year defended himself, a slight frown on his face.
“Last time we went into town we saw a bunny and you asked me if it was a dog. You may be smart, but you don’t know everything.” They laughed, this time a bit louder, offending Azul even more. “But we weren’t talking about that. So, if you have hands in your merman form, is it because mermen don’t usually hold hands directly? Or is it that you aren’t used to the sensation of something touching your skin?”
“No, they do hold hands in the same way humans do.” The second year explained. “And I’ve been on land for a while, now, so I’m very accustomed to the sensation of touching things directly without gloves.” He answered their second question.
“Then why don’t you want to hold hands now?”
“Well, that’s….” Azul mumbled, fixing his glasses as a way to partially cover his face to prevent the Prefect from being able to see the embarrassment on his expression. This only increased (Y/n)’s curiosity, making them wonder of the reasons, until something popped up on their mean.
“You…you’ve never had someone hold your hand before, haven’t you?”
“Nonsense! I…”
“I’ll take that as a yes.” The Ramshackle student declared, Azul’s face being enough evidence for them. They got up from the sofa to take a seat on the chair in front of Azul’s desk, finding the merman avoiding eye contact with them. “It’s okay if you haven’t, you know?”
“As far as I’m concerned, people around my age should be expected to have more experience at this, so forgive me for my lack of it.”
“I don’t care about that; I hope you know it.” (Y/n) answered tenderly, extending their arm to softly angle Azul’s face so they could look at them. “Besides, it would be nice to do it for the first time, wouldn’t it?”
“I guess you’re right…”
“Can I?” They questioned, this time signalizing his hand, as he nodded. Then, the Prefect gently took his hand, one of their own delicately holding his wrist as the other removed the glove carefully with a slow pace, occasionally glancing at him.
If there was anything (Y/n) had learned about Azul in the past weeks, it was that he was far more delicate than he let others see, his vulnerable side being more difficult for him to expose, even in front of them, as it was too early. Perhaps, in a year or two, they would talk casually about more intimate matters, but for now, this was enough, one step at a time.
“Well, this is rather nice.” Azul mumbled, and the Prefect could only chuckle softly, lightly squeezing his hand as an answer.
“Your hands seemed to be very soft-Oh!” (Y/n) started calmly, trying not to rush Azul, getting surprised when he was the one who actually took their hand as soon as they removed the glove. His fingers laced their own fingers gently but quickly, as he was expectant to experience the sensation.
“Is it like you expected?”
“I’d say it’s better than I thought.” He answered. “Now I understand why so many couples seemed to have their hands glued to each other when they walked together, back in the town…”
“Yeah, maybe we could try that.” They suggested, promptly raising both of their hands a bit higher, so they could place a kiss upon the back of his hand, watching the housewarden blushing immediately. “Too much?”
“No…But I’m considering that perhaps, I should wear my gloves less when you’re around.”
“You have such nice ideas sometimes.”
They stayed in the same position for a few moments, changing the topic of conversation, as (Y/n) occasionally caressed the side of his hand with their thumb, Azul eventually relaxing at the contact, his paperwork next to him being left on the past, his attention solely focused on his loving partner.
“The next step maybe could be you showing me your octopus form?”
“Absolutely no.”
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#twst#twisted wonderland x reader#disney twisted wonderland#twst x reader#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland oneshot#disney twst#twst x you#twisted wonderland azul#twst oneshot#twst azul#azul ashengrotto x reader#lynnie's post
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Lost on You - Part 12
Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Supe!Reader
Summary: 1983 is a big year for you. You’re finally chosen to join the ranks of Payback, led by the most (in)famous supe in the world: Soldier Boy. He’ll never admit that he’s trying his damndest to figure you out. You’ll never admit that he’s actually growing on you. But the problem with this game is deciding who’s the predator, and who is prey.
AN: And here we go, with our Avengers: Civil War moment…
Song Inspo: “I Go to Extremes” by Billy Joel
Word Count: 5.1K
Tags/Warnings: Violence, blood, and death. Angst, peril, hurt/comfort, and fluff.
🎵 YouTube Playlist || Spotify Playlist
🎙️ Series Masterlist
Part 12: A Fire in the Blood
Ben walked into the kitchen the next morning in search of coffee and food. He added some grounds to the coffeemaker on the counter and grabbed a bagel from the fridge, then slammed the door shut.
“All right, get the fuck out,” he said, as if to an empty room. “I’m gonna lose my breakfast before I even eat it.”
Slowly, Charlie and Donna stood up from behind the kitchen island. Both of them looked wrecked. Her hair was wild and disheveled. He had dark red lipstick smudged all around his mouth and neck. Their clothes were bundled in their hands, but they needed no further prompting to run butt-ass naked out of the kitchen. Ben shook his head.
“Fucking animals,” he muttered.
But he didn’t blame them for being bored.
Meanwhile down the hall, Donna pulled Charlie into the shower with her. She got him to start washing her hair while she bathed the rest of herself with a bar of soap.
“He took it a lot better than I expected,” she said.
“Well, he’s probably known since at least last night,” Charlie said, smirking. “The man’s got super hearing, and you didn’t exactly keep it down.”
She reached back to smack his thigh teasingly. “That’s not what I meant. I just thought he’d raise more hell.”
She actually frowned at the thought. Part of her had indulged with Charlie because she thought it might piss Ben off, but to her surprise, he didn’t seem to give much of a fuck. In the past, he once snapped a man’s wrist for touching her ass at a gala. In fact, he’d ruined a lot of perfectly good hookup opportunities for her by being his jealous, caveman self, even though he was whoring himself out with any willing female.
So now, either Ben hated her that much, or…he actually did care about you.
Ben answered his cell when it rang. It was a familiar number.
Arthur. This better be fucking it.
“Did you find her?” he asked.
“Yeah, I found her,” Arthur said, with a grim sigh. “You’re not gonna like it.”
“Where?” Ben demanded. His hand clenched on the phone, threatening to crack the frame.
“Nottingham, West Virginia. It’s one of Vought’s most high-security labs. I didn’t even have clearance to know about it when I worked there,” he said. “It’s easy to miss though. Somewhere between a national forest and a couple of cemeteries.”
“Good enough for me,” Ben said. He finished his coffee in one quick slurp and headed over to his room to get the rest of his suit on. He was only half dressed.
“I hope you find her. Now I’ll be fucking off to Belize. Stan’s probably already got eyes on me,” said Arthur.
“Don’t you worry about Stan. After I get Sirena, I’m chopping the head off the fucking snake,” Ben said angrily.
“Okay, well, good luck to ya.”
After hanging up and lacing up his boots, Ben headed out of the room and down the hall. He banged a fist on the bathroom door, hard enough to rattle its hinges.
“Suit up, kids! We’re headed out.”
Arthur’s directions were direct enough. Donna had to park her car somewhere along the main road, but it was another mile or so before Ben finally found what they were looking for: a solitary building that looked like a nondescript farmhouse from the outside.
“This is their top secret high-security lab?” Charlie said. “Looks abandoned.”
“That’s exactly how they want it to look,” Ben said. It reminded him of the lab in Siberia. He was willing to bet that the lab itself ran several stories and floors underground.
Once they stepped out from the safety of the trees, gunshots rained from above and up ahead. There was a line of armed guards emerging from the front and the back of the building, while a helicopter descended from above.
Donna took out most of the guards on the ground, while Charlie shot his guns at the helicopter and took out the glass in the windshield. Ben threw up his shield at it, causing irreparable damage to the vessel. The pilot was forced to initiate a crash landing.
The helicopter doors opened, revealing Black Noir. He grabbed another man and jumped from the helicopter. The other man screamed, but the landing was swift. Noir made sure that Mindstorm landed on his feet, more or less, while the helicopter carved into the ground behind them and combusted.
Ah, the gang’s all here, Ben thought grimly. It saved him the trouble of hunting those two down as well.
“So it’s true,” Mindstorm said, taking in the sight of Ben with both astonishment and dread.
“Hey, Dan,” said Ben. “Looking rough.”
It was true. The man appeared to be a shell of his former self; thin, with lines of age around his eyes and across his forehead, his skin pale and splotchy. A decade of paranoia and reclusion hadn’t done much good for Dan. Noir must've scrounged him up from his hiding hole, like fishing out a rat from the sewer.
“Look, we don’t have to do this,” Charlie tried. “Just let him get Sirena out of there. After what you guys did, she doesn’t deserve that.”
Ben glanced at his former sidekick. He actually seemed sincere.
Too bad Noir wasn’t about to go for it. He had Vought’s dick so far up his ass, he wouldn’t likely take a shit without Stan Edgar’s say so. He crouched into a fighting stance and unsheathed his katana. The rest of the guards poured in to flank around him and Mindstorm.
Ben rolled a crack out of his neck.
“Fine. If it’s a war you want, it’s a war you’ll fucking get,” he said.
Noir started charging at him first, but Donna shot off a fireball in his direction.
Chaos ignited from there.
Something’s wrong. You felt it, with so many energies converging high above you. It must’ve meant that you were underground, yet again.
There were still men in the compound itself. You now felt their energies being stuffed out, closer and closer in your direction.
Ben? You wondered. You stood up from your cot in nervous anticipation, wrapping your arms protectively around yourself. After Vogelbaum dropped his news, you’d spent the entire night battling your shock, followed shortly by your panic.
No matter what they did to you now, there was no way you were going to let them hurt your child.
Ben…
More than anything, you wanted to see him. You wanted to tell him that his dream was coming true, whether he was ready for it or not…
But there was something coming, and it wasn’t him. You would’ve felt it if it was him. By the rate the men were dying somewhere outside of your cell, however, it was getting closer to your cell. For some reason, you just couldn’t identify the energy signature itself.
You got your answer when your cell door forcibly opened. You gaped in shock.
“Countess?” you said.
She was panting for breath, but she whipped a sweaty lock of red hair out of her eyes and reached out a gloved hand for you.
“Come on, before I change my fucking mind,” she said.
You were still in shock, but you managed to break yourself out of it to follow her out of the cell. You had to stop short though, as an entire unit of Vought security came pouring into the hall with raised guns.
You opened your mouth and began your siren song. Within seconds, every man curled in on themselves as they screamed in pain. Some of them managed to rip their helmets off as they gripped their heads. Tears of blood dripped down from their eyes, and they all soon fell into lifeless heaps.
You stopped singing, and your eyes faded from glowing violet to their normal hue. Donna looked at you, both stunned and wary.
“Don’t worry. It doesn’t work on women. Even frigid cunts like you,” you said with a grin.
She smirked back. “Come on then.”
“Where’s Ben?” you asked, joining her in hastening down the hall.
“Up there fighting,” she replied, pointing up to the ceiling. “You’re about fifteen floors down from the outside world.”
“Fucking figures,” you muttered, but your heart swelled to know that Ben was here, and he was all right. Your hand went to your lower belly on reflex.
“Wait,” you gasped, as something occurred to you. “We need to find someone.”
“What the fuck do you mean? We need to get out of here!” Donna said.
“There’s a kid somewhere in here, and I’m not leaving without him,” you snapped. You began opening doors where you sensed a presence inside. Most often it was a lab technician or other employee, and Donna vaporized them.
You opened one door and found Dr. Vogelbaum. Finally, you saw him react with widening eyes. You felt his fear.
Donna eviscerated him too, in a bloody mess of limbs.
You grimaced at the gore, but you paused, noticing a thick file on the man’s desk.
THE HOMELANDER PROJECTwas stamped at the top in large red letters. You picked your way through the mess and grabbed the file. Then you and Donna continued heading down the hall.
There at the end was a red door. Something about it called to you. You reached out with your awareness, and you felt a familiar male energy, young and scared and alone.
You beckoned Donna over. The door was heavy and locked, but the two of you worked together to twist it open by its large circular handle, like the hatch on a submarine. It swung open with a creak, and inside the room was a bare white cell, not unlike yours.
A young boy sat against the wall, arms wrapped around his knees, wearing a white shirt and plain gray sweatpants. He was blonde and blue-eyed, and he felt familiar to you on-sight.
“John?” you said, stepping inside the cell.
He tilted his head, like he recognized your voice. He said your name uncertainly as he got up to his feet.
“Yeah, it’s me,” you said, approaching him with cautious steps. “I’m getting out of here, but I want you to come with me.”
John looked reluctant, even as he glanced at your outstretched hand.
“Vogelbaum is gone. He can’t hurt you anymore,” you said. “John, please, let me help you.”
After a moment of his indecision, John reached out and carefully grasped your hand. You led him out of the cell, and encouraged him to stay close to you when you and Donna started back towards the elevators.
The three of you rode all the way up to the top level, where the sounds of an epic fight raged behind the doors of the building. Still, it was a familiar balm to your frayed mind to step outside those doors and find a bright sun beating down on a dusty clearing. Beyond it was layers of forest trees.
Donna said that her car was about a mile in that direction, but before you guys could attempt to get to safety, Noir landed right in front of you.
“Irving—” you said in warning.
Donna raised her hands, prepared to blast him into pieces, but John threw the first punch. It landed squarely in Noir’s chest and had him flying several feet away, into a nearby tree. Your mouth fell open in shock as you gave the kid a wide-eyed look.
John smiled up at you, in a—Did I do good?—kind of way.
“Holy shit,” Donna muttered.
You huffed a short laugh and laid a hand on his shoulder. “Good job, bud.”
You shifted your attention to the rest of the battle, and it caught on Ben with a gasp. He was striding toward Mindstorm with his shield held in front of him. He backhanded Mindstorm in the face and quickly got him pinned on the ground.
Charlie was already lying unconscious, trapped in his own mind. Donna went to try and help him, while you started running headfirst toward the other two men.
“Ben!” you shouted out.
He glanced up at you on reflex, but it proved to be an unfortunate distraction, giving Mindstorm the opening he needed to reach out a hand and touch Ben’s forehead. His eyes closed and he collapsed to the ground.
“No!” the ragged yell tore from your throat. You knew full well what Mindstorm was capable of.
You rushed forward and tried to capture Mindstorm with your siren song. It managed to hold him in place, making him grip at his temples with strain. You knew you didn’t totally have him under your spell, however. Not until you knelt down in front of him and grabbed his face with both hands. Your eyes illuminated brighter as you focused all of your power on him.
Mindstorm fought it tooth and nail, but ultimately, the pull of you was too much. He screamed as blood trailed down his face from his eyes, nose, and ears, until his voice faded, and his blue eyes became unseeing. When you released him, he slumped into a heap.
You fell back onto your ass and heaved for breath. All the while, you stared at his unseeing eyes. Part of you felt sick with yourself. The other part felt vindicated, and a little more free.
With a gasp, you remembered Ben. You turned over and crawled over to his body where he laid unconscious in the dirt and dead leaves.
Fuck. You shouldn’t have killed Mindstorm. He was the only one who could’ve brought him out of this.
Unless…
An idea struck you, and you knew you had to try. You shuffled onto your knees and took Ben’s face carefully in your shaking hands. You closed your eyes.
Focusing your powers on his being, you entered his mind. You waded through waves of darkness as they lapped at you, trying to draw you in. But you were a brighter light. You went deeper, layer by layer.
You began to see moving images, like scenes from a reel. You saw his father, berating him. You saw the moment Compound V was injected into his arm, immediately filling his veins with pain. You saw his mother’s funeral, a day marked by falling snow and a stoic set of Ben’s young shoulders.
You saw so many days and nights at the facility where you both were kept, but one in particular struck at your own heart—the day Dr. Eisenstein had you brought you into Ben’s cell and slammed you down on the table in front of him, prepared to inject an unknown experimental serum into your body.
Ben’s face seemed angry on the outside, but this deep inside his mind, you felt his anger, as well as his fear, and his desire to protect you.
You weren’t sure it would work, but you needed to get his attention somehow. You needed to wake him up.
“Ben!” you shouted to him.
To your relief, he actually looked over at you, meeting your gaze with surprise in his own.
Until you were ripped away from him, out of his mind and into the waking world. Your bleary eyes eventually focused on the dark shape above you. On Black Noir.
He hauled you up by your arms and began to drag you across the clearing, away from Ben.
“Stop!” you struggled. Noir ignored you, just tightening his hold.
He dragged you past Donna’s body. She was dying on the ground, with her throat cut and bubbling with blood. Your eyes widened, but you quickly took in the rest of the clearing.
John was trapped under the massive trunk of a fallen tree, struggling to get up. He was being swarmed by Vought security guards.
Just over Noir’s shoulder, you caught sight of Ben. He was starting to wake up, and he turned over and pushed himself up onto one knee. Relief filled your chest.
In a fit of desperation, you dug your heels into the ground. “Let go! Let go of me!”
You opened your mouth and took in a breath to sing, but how quickly Noir’s hand wrapped around your throat, choking the breath right out of you. He tightened his hold, little by little, until you began to feel lightheaded. Panic gripped at your heart.
“Stop, Noir, please! I’m pregnant!” you pleaded, with tears in your eyes.
Beyond him, you met Ben’s gaze. His mouth fell open as he stared at you, after half scrambling to his feet.
You returned your attention to Noir when you realized you could feel his shock, and the tension through your hand on his glove. He glanced over his shoulder at Ben, then back at your tearful eyes. You felt Noir’s disgust, swiftly followed by his anger.
You gasped when he let you go, just so he could unsheathe his weapon. Ben gritted his teeth in anger. Before he could throw his shield, Noir swung his katana down on you.
You instinctively raised up your arms to protect yourself, but the blade only shattered against your skin. You raised your head, blinking in shock. You clenched your fists, and you realized that you felt different, somehow. You were strong.
You shoved Noir hard in the chest, and he flew several feet away, rolling in the dirt as he landed.
Ben ran over to join you. He wrapped his non-shield wielding arm around your waist and pulled you tight against him. You melted into him in relief, resting your head against his chest.
���I don’t know how I did that,” you admitted.
“Looks like knocking you up comes with some added perks,” he said, grinning down at you.
Once you understood what he meant, another wave of shock hit you. The life inside you was not only carrying his genes, but some of his power as well, making you strong.
You looked up at his smug grin and rolled your eyes in amusement, but you also wanted to grab his face and pull him down for a kiss. The look in his eyes told you he wanted to oblige, but you both stopped short, coming to attention when you saw Noir picking himself up from the ground.
“I’ve got him,” Ben said darkly. He let go of you and took a step toward Noir, putting himself in front of you.
Two old enemies faced each other. This time, Ben began to make the first move.
Just then, a pair of red laser beams broke through the clearing and cut through Noir’s mask and skull. He dropped to his knees, and then fell to the ground.
What the hell…
Slowly you turned back to see that John had broken free of the guards. All of them lied either passed out or dead at his feet. He stepped over them and went to your side with shaky hands, shocked at even his own power. Had he known he could do that?
“Are you okay?” he asked you in concern.
You were still reeling, but you nodded and grasped his shoulder. Ben was unsettled looking at John. You knew the look on his face. He wasn’t sure whether the kid was a threat as well. Ben slid an arm around your waist and pulled you closer to him.
“Ben, this is John,” you explained. “He was a ‘guest’ in the lab, same as me.”
Ben seized up the kid. Eventually he rested his shield on the ground and reached out his hand.
“John, huh?”
The kid nodded and shook his hand. “Y-Yes, sir.”
“That’s a strong name,” Ben said. John smiled.
With that small peace won, you slipped away from Ben and went to Charlie. You knelt down and felt for his pulse at his neck. You shook your head in sadness.
“He’s gone,” you said. Ben helped you stand again.
You were disappointed about Donna too, even knowing she was the one who helped sell you out in the first place. You were sure it was probably under duress, but she had saved you today.
“Let’s get the fuck out of here,” Ben said. You agreed, but first, you looked back at the lab.
“They took vials of my blood. God knows what else they have in there,” you said.
“They took your fucking blood?” he said, through furrowed brows.
“Yeah, that’s how I know I’m pregnant,” you said, again, holding a hand to your belly. Ben softened slightly at that.
He blew out a breath and nodded. “Okay, you and the kid hang back. Far back.”
You grasped John’s shoulder and led him over to the dense line of trees. You both hunkered down behind a fallen tree trunk and watched Ben approach the lab.
He set a firm stance and concentrated, until his chest glowed with power. Letting loose a yell of strain, he summoned a blast that destroyed the entire building. It not only created a backlash of debris and flames, but it also shook the earth. He stalked forward and angled the blast downward, so that it would consume the floors below as well.
You had to duck down further as the impact of the blast was too much. John covered you with his arms around your shoulders.
When it was over, Ben struggled to regain his breath. He even stumbled a bit on his way back to you, but he kept a steady pace, until he found you and the kid again. Ben reached a hand for you and once again helped you up from the ground, guiding you into his arms.
His chest still felt hot, but you didn’t care. You curled a hand around the back of his neck and brought him down to you for a kiss. It was relief, it was passion, and it was home.
You parted slowly, his forehead pressing against yours.
“I love you,” you whispered into the small space in between.
Releasing a subtle breath, Ben nodded. You opened your eyes and cupped his cheek.
“You can say it,” you prompted, teasingly. “It’s not gonna kill you.”
You could hazard a guess at what he was thinking. This close, you could feel him, and his reluctance. But his lips hinted at a smile.
“Yeah, I fucking love you,” he said. He thumbed at your chin, his gaze roaming over your face before he met your eyes. “I love you.”
Tears made your vision blur a little. You nodded, smiling, and reached up on your toes for another kiss.
“Are you guys done yet?” John asked. He shifted on his feet, all antsy and tired. “Can we go?”
Ben’s face fell into annoyance at the kid. You gave him a rueful smile, and one last stroke of his cheek.
“The car’s about a mile out,” Ben said.
“Yep,” you said. “I guess we start walking.”
John slept in the backseat of the car while Ben drove down the highway going northeast. His gaze roamed over you as you stared out the window, seemingly calm with that file you stole from Vogelbaum’s office resting on your lap.
With a sigh, you turned your attention to it. Ben couldn’t help but distract you first. His hand reached over to rest on your thigh.
“Hey,” he said. You perked up at him.
“You okay?” he asked. You smiled a little and slipped your hand over his.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Considering.”
He alternated between watching the road and watching you a bit closer.
“Did they hurt you?” he pressed. You shook your head, squeezing his hand.
“No. They pretty much left me alone,” you said, though his concern warmed you. You also sensed something else underneath…the sting of regret. It took him a few beats, but he eventually spoke.
“I shouldn’t have let you go out alone,” he said, briefly meeting your eyes. “I should’ve been there.”
It was as close to an apology as you’d ever gotten from him. You almost smiled.
“Look, we’re here now,” you said. “Pretty soon, this is all just going to be a bad memory we can put behind us, like everything else.”
You rubbed his arm and glanced down at the file sitting on your lap. Your curiosity had you flipping it open. The more you read over its contents, the more your face slackened in shock.
“Oh my God, Ben,” you whispered.
“What?”
“Pull over for a minute.”
“We can’t stop here. We need to get to the airport.”
“This is important. Stop the car.”
He huffed in annoyance, but he pulled the car over. He left the car running and got out along with you.
You later leaned against the passenger side while he read the file. You watched the shock descend over his face as it all began to click together in his mind. He turned and pointed at the backseat of the car.
“He’s…”
“Yeah,” you said.
“Christ on a damn cross,” he said.
“Yeah,” you repeated. You covered your mouth with a hand. “And the poor kid’s been kept in that basement his whole damn life… It was Vogelbaum’s project, but how did he do it?”
A realization fell over Ben. He joined you in leaning against the car. The file fell to his side.
“Back in…’81. No, beginning of ’83, before you joined up. Vogelbaum wanted a sample of my swimmers for an experiment. Something about genetics,” he said. He still remembered the Penthouse Forum he used to give his “sample.”
June. Danielle Deneux. Bush like a Pomeranian. He almost smiled at the memory, but the rest of it soured that part for him.
You gave him an incredulous look. “And you didn’t ask questions about what they were going to use your sperm for?”
Ben rolled his eyes and gave you the file. You shook your head.
“The point is, John is…more or less your son,” you said.
“What?!” John exclaimed. He spooked you and Ben when he popped up in the car window.
You should’ve known he’d have enhanced hearing. Just like his father.
John came out of the car, and both father and son looked at one another in assessing ways. Even though they had different coloring, you started to notice the similar shape of their jawlines, the line of their noses. John soon had tears in his eyes.
“You…you’re my dad?” he said.
Ben’s hands went to his hips. His posture was stiff and awkward.
“I guess I am,” he said.
He didn’t expect the way John literally flew over and hugged him with a strength that impacted Ben. He grunted and grabbed the kid’s shoulders.
“Okay, all right, lock it up. Don’t be a little girl about it.”
John’s face fell with dejection, but he dropped his arms and took a step back. You became both dismayed and angry.
“Ben!” you said sharply. “Let your son hug you, for fuck’s sake.”
He shot you a warning look, but you had your hand on John’s shoulder as you glared back at Ben. He crossed his arms.
Then he uncrossed them with an exasperated huff. He went to John and dropped a hand on his shoulder. Smiling in satisfaction, you moved back to give them a moment.
Ben looked down at the kid’s face. His blonde hair and blue eyes weren’t his. He must’ve taken after his mother, whoever she was, or whatever genetics Vogelbaum manipulated, but he did see his own strong jaw in the kid.
“Well, it’s unfortunate that we couldn’t meet sooner, but…looks like you’re my son,” said Ben. “I'm thinking you want to stick around with us.”
John nodded vigorously.
“All right,” Ben said. “Then let’s get going.”
John nodded again, quickly wiping at his face to clear away his tears.
Good, Ben thought with a quirk of his lips. He squeezed John’s shoulder and let him go, so he could return to the driver’s side of the car. You gave John a warm hug. Ben saw it through the window and almost shook his head. He could already tell that you were going to try to mother that boy.
Somehow, that thought just softened him, at least a little. Because it reminded him that you were carrying his child as well. Not to mention, his blood was making you nice and strong.
When you slid into the passenger seat, he grabbed your hand and pressed a kiss over your knuckles. You smiled at him.
“Where are we gonna go?” John asked.
Ben glanced at him in the rearview mirror. Ben's brows drew together as his expression firmed.
“To finish what we started,” he said.
You knew what that meant. He wanted to go to New York to finish off Stan Edgar, Stillwell, and anyone else who had a hand in their capture.
“Ben, they’ll never stop trying to get him back,” you said, gesturing at John. “And…when Vogelbaum took my blood, he said they wanted to monitor me. Apparently this has never happened before…a supe getting another supe pregnant.”
Ben paused.
“He talked like I was a rat in his lab, and he wanted to document the findings,” you said, as tears welled up in your eyes and made your throat tight with emotion, and the remnants of dread.
Ben frowned and squeezed your hand.
“That’s not fucking happening,” he said. You sighed and wiped at your cheek. After taking a few steadying breaths, you managed to get a hold of yourself.
“If we go back to New York, it’s a big risk,” you said.
This time, Ben actually considered what you were saying. He was stubborn though.
“I can’t just fucking let it go. What Stan Edgar did, what they all did—”
“If you take out Stan, they’ll just put another one in his place. I doubt it’ll ever end,” you said. You moved his hand to your stomach. “But if you want this. If you want a family, this is it.”
Ben glanced down at his hand under yours, and then your face. As much as he wanted the rest of his revenge, he also wanted, and needed to protect you. He couldn’t make another mistake like last time. If you were taken from him again, he’d have no one to blame but himself.
That also posed a harder question. Where the hell could he take you where you’d be safe? Even Arthur had fucked off to Belize.
Ben stroked your hand in contemplation…until an idea came to him.
A grin raised his lips.
“All right,” he said. “How do you feel about Colombia?”
AN: Lol! Suffice to say, there's going to be a big BMD easter egg in the Epilogue, but did you like how the final battle shook out? Was there anything that surprised you? Do you wish some members of Payback had lived?
I went back and forth on how some characters would meet their end, but I felt that this is the story I wanted to tell, with her, Ben, and John escaping together and forming their strange new family. 😂💚
Next Time: The Epilogue...
A phone dock rested on the coffee table. The call was on speaker.
“That child represents a multi-million-dollar investment,” said Stan Edgar.
“You should’ve thought about that before you shipped us off to motherfucking Siberia,” Ben snapped. “Hell, before you decided to steal my goddamn DNA. But guess fucking what. He’s my son. He belongs with me.”
You gave him a look of pride, resting a hand on his thigh in support. He glanced at you and grabbed your hand.
“You’re not leaving me with much recourse here, Soldier Boy,” Stan replied.
Ben leaned forward. He took that as a very real threat.
▶️ Keep Reading: The Epilogue
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I'm going genuinely feral for your overwatch Talon headcanons im here growling and gnawing at the bars of my enclosure.. So may I request Talon with an extremely clingy reader pretty please <3
Talon x Reader
Clingy Reader headcanons
A/n: Sorry for the long break! Was not expecting to come back to that many notes honestly it makes me super excited to write again! Thank you for requesting I hope you enjoy! <3
Doomfist:
Surprisingly enough it hardly bothers him; even the mild PDA
However, at work, he realized how lenient he has become with you and that eventually bothered him enough to talk to you about it
His position in talon demanded respect and he couldn’t commit to that with you clinging to him any chance you got
That being said you agree, more or less, to a compromise that allows him to better command a room
Thankfully, at home he anticipates your needs before they’re even needed whether it be to carry you around the house or even just a tender moment by the door as soon as he walks in
Reaper:
When he begins to realize just how clingy you are it takes him some time to adjust
He loves you dearly, but he is quick to set boundaries mainly pertaining to your behavior at work
Outside of that, however, he simply cannot help himself. You make him melt at your touch
Even through his agony he softens at your beckon call and your pleas to accompany him in his more mundane activities
In fact, despite popular belief, your clinginess comforts him in ways nothing else can
Moira:
Doesn’t mind it as much as one would think however she does establish a boundary concerning when she really has to focus on something/needs the space
Is occasionally too wrapped up in work to let you know when she would be late or wouldn’t be showing up but is easily forgiven with a little bit of a cuddle session
Despite her persistent studies she has her moments in which she craves your attention for a bit of a recharge
She comes to you masking her disheveled state with confident posture, but, the second she’s in your company she instantly relaxes as you retell the details of your day
Sombra:
Honestly doesn’t even notice that you are clingy and makes it a common occurrence to have you lay with her or on her while she works if possible
On days she's too busy or a mission is taking way too long she's already sending you a quick text with a few corresponding emojis while she's at it
She never tires of your company and is easily the biggest flirt on the team
When you two are apart she's always texting and answering you
Best chat logs out of everybody and almost never leaves you hanging unless the mission truly interferes in someway
Mauga:
If anything, this one is much clingier than you are
You two are always texting when you're apart even if he's in a meeting or briefing
You’re lucky if you even get out of bed as he’s always holding you. He hardly keeps his hands off of you when you’re together whether it be an arm over your shoulder or a hand around your waist
Your PDA makes everyone around you laughably uncomfortable and annoyed, although, you hardly notice them
Spending time with you is the best part of his day; he can’t imagine any other way he’d like to unwind
Widowmaker:
Isn’t the most touchy person out of everybody, but she tries to indulge your habits when she can
You two have a bit of a system built to avoid any uncomfortable moments when she needs her space
Regardless of this she cares about you very much and also enjoys her fair share of cuddles on the couch/in bed
Your dynamic leans more towards you talking while she listens, however, she does comment here and there when prompted
Although some distance remains, she can’t help but feel something every time she’s with you
Sigma:
Finds it incredibly endearing and indulges you quite easily when he isn’t solely focused on his work. Even so he doesn’t mind having you there with him from time to time
It’s quite common to find you two floating around spending time together and the PDA hardly warrants any complaints
His mind partially clears when he gets to spend time with you
You can see him hang on your every word as well as the joy in his eyes when he speaks so sweetly to you
Whenever you two are apart it isn’t surprising to hear him talk about you whenever he gets the chance. The other teammates are actually pretty fond of it
#Really hope you don't mind me using this request to help me get back into the groove of things lol#overwatch 2 x reader#overwatch x reader#gender neutral reader#x reader#mauga x reader#ow mauga x reader#reaper x reader#doomfist x reader#moira x reader#sombra x reader#widowmaker x reader#sigma x reader#message in a bottle
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to the anon asking about the large amount of sex-trafficking/rape prompts/stories/blurbs, im going to try and give you a real answer
one major factor, is shame
it's a largely subconscious thing, the fact people's sexual fantasies lean toward this aggressive often dehumanizing scenarios.
but its something that has been observed in people raised with very strict social expectations regarding sexuality often having rape fantasies, because it is a way to indulge in their sexual feelings without having to admit to them, in a way.
i, personally, am fat and queer. and while never stated outright to my face, the fact that small children have on several occasions began crying while looking at me in the supermarket line, I would also have to assume im not that much of a looker either
any show of desires for intimacy, physical or emotional, has been laughed at. people asked me out as a joke when i was in school, my father's side of the family openly lamented my appearance since I was a child because my only real value to them was continuing the family line, and that's not going to happen if I'm unattractive and fat
the fact is I have been told my entire life that me being wanted was impossible, if anybody desired me they would keep it a secret out of fear of ridicule, and anybody who would be open about it must have a specific fetish or be using me
I want to be wanted, hell there are times I'm desperate to get catcalled, because that proves somebody finds me attractive enough to express that. (even if the reality of it is objectifying and rude) the basis of these sorts of fantasies are often rooted in being seen as so desirable, so wanted, that any and all restraint goes out of the window. (you know that romance trope line that's like, "are you sure? because once we start i don't know if i can stop." same idea) the tendency towards trafficking and sexual slavery are also rooted in this, but with the added bit of "see, somebody wants me so bad they will spend money on me, to own me. they will fuck me in a crowded room without shame because their desire for me isn't something they're ashamed about, i am a prize, and the fact they get to fuck me is something they will gloat about."
one of the major appeal of monsters is that they wouldn't be bogged down by our social expectations, or they would have ones of their own. there is no fear regarding being wanted despite my looks, because the things about myself I have been told make me unattractive, are things that they openly and voraciously desire. Also, for the fat folks in the chat, wanting to be picked up and tossed around by your partner is largely something we can't have, (BMI is bullshit but mine is nearly double what it "should" be) you don't have to worry about that if your partner is an 8+ foot tall creature that can suplex a sedan
so while in reality, me being stocky and fat is seen as something that makes me unattractive, a werewolf would look at me and go "ah, yes, broad as a brick wall and twice as thicc, he can take it in a tumble."
can you see where the overlap occurs?
obviously there are some generalizations and assumptions based on my own biases here, and everybody's got their peculiarities, but these are themes I have seen throughout my many years too many online
I also just think monster fucker spaces are a little more open to taboo kinks. like wanting to fuck a werewolf who could kill you at any second is already weirder than most people want to go. thank you for sharing your perspective anon.
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i might just love you 'til the end - joshua hong imagine
i admit this is very self indulgent, it's my bday and i wanted to write this so here we are🥺🥺😅
for my other svt fics, check them here
if you want, u can buy me coffee(totally optional but any donation is very much appreciated!) thank you🥺💛
All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2024 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.
(pics not mine, credits to rightful owner)
A cold bed is not something you expected you'd wake up to on the morning of your birthday. Usually you'd wake up with your boyfriend's arms wrapped around you like your own personal weighted blanket but that wasn't the case today thus prompting you to get up and go look around the house for the said missing boyfriend.
Thinking he might've went to the gym so you didn't expect to see him until later but then you hear some noises coming from the kitchen and some music playing.
Making your way downstairs and to the kitchen, you see Joshua standing with his back to you while holding a spatula in one hand. Too lost in his own world, humming along the tune of Sunday Morning playing in the background.
You smile as you walk towards him, catching him off guard when he suddenly feel a pair of arms hug him from behind.
"Hey, you. You're up early" he says, looking around to catch a glimpse of you
You cuddle against his back, seeking the warmth you missed this morning. He lets you be, knowing how clingy you get when you're sleepy. He doesn't mind it one bit when you sleep on him or fall alseep when you're with him. To him it's an honor, knowing you feel safe around him to fall asleep quickly after you told him you used to struggle with that before meeting him.
Feeling content with the quiet surrounding, he gently sways back and forth as he finishes the stack of pancakes with you still clinging to him.
"You weren't there so I woke up" you mumbled after a while, earning a chuckle from him
"Sorry, I wanted to make us breakfast. I was going to take it up to you but since you're already here, let me set up the table after I finish with the pancakes"
"I'll do it, you finish here" you tell him, giving him a final squeeze before separating from him. Before you can walk away, he grabs you by the arm making you crash back into his awaiting arms
He looks down at you with a smile, eyes locking with your eyes "Happy birthday, my darling"
You grin at him, standing on your tiptoes to kiss him on the lips "Thank you, baby"
"Oh and I got you flowers, that's not my main gift I'll give that later but I hope you like them" he says as he grab the bouquet from the table to pass it to you
"Josh, these are so pretty" you coo at him, "Thank, baby. Really. You don't have to get me anything but I appreciate all the effort, you really do know how to make this day extra special"
"How can I not when my most favorite person is born today. I'm just so happy to be celebrating this day with you"
You put the flowers down to give him another hug, Joshua does the same. Wrapping his arms around you, lifting you off the ground. He can hear your giggles, the sound making all the butterflies erupt in his stomach. He really truly is deeply in love with you.
"You're my favorite person too. I'm so thankful for you" you tell him
He gives your cheeks and your nose kisses before kissing you on the lips, smiling as he takes your breath away like he always does whenever he kisses you.
"Tell me what you want, name it. Anything"
"Really? Anything?"
"Mhm, what do you have in mind?" he asks, noticing the cheeky look in your eyes
"If I say I want to celebrate all of my birthdays like this, us in our kitchen cooking breakfast"
He looks at you, your future together already unfolding in his mind. Of course there's no one else he can imagine spending the rest of his life with but you.
He leans down, capturing your lips once again before answering you
"Consider it done, I'm yours forever my darling"
You smile hearing him say the word forever. For him, you'd believe it actually exists. You'd use all your birthday wishes just to make sure you're going to stay right where you are right now.
"Get ready for a whole day of romantic gestures and all out cheesiness because I'm only getting started" he jokes, putting you down before getting back to cooking
"Wouldn't celebrate this day any other way"
#fic#fanfic#svt#seventeen#seventeen fluff#seventeen scenario#seventeen joshua#seventeen imagine#seventeen x reader#svt imagine#svt fic#svt scenario#joshua hong#svt joshua#joshua hong imagine#svt joshua x reader
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I'm sorry the Hanniheads have been so rude to you. Ironic considering what he dies to the rude lollol. Take your time. There's no rush :)
This is sooooo not self indulgent lmao i was wondering about a yandere Hannibal waking up and his darling is totally gone. Her shoes are still there, all her stuff. He searches every where for her and finally finds her outside, having sleep walked all the way to the edge of the woods.
I sleep walk, I once woke up stirring an empty pot on the stove. Thank God my mom heard the commotion. I was around 12 at the time, now I'm 27 and it's calmed down a lot. I still laugh in my sleep from time to time, bonus points if you could perhaps include the reader laughing in her sleep?
►PAIRING: Yandere!Hannibal X F!Reader ►UNIVERSE: Hannibal ►WORDS: 650 ►SUMMARY/PROMPT: See Above. ►TRIGGER WARNINGS: Panicked Hannibal | Possessive Hannibal | Worried Hannibal | Sleepwalking Reader | Sleep Laughing Reader | Some fluff | Hannibal Watching You Sleep | I may be missing some, but you get a general idea, so please proceed with caution if there is anything in there that is overly triggering please let me know politely and I will make sure it is added to the list. ►NOTE: Thank you for understanding. It has not been a fun experience, some aren't so bad and I appreciate them and others, well, they make me not want to write for the Hannifans. You know what's funny, is my wife and I were talking about that just the other day! Sleep walking can be terrifying! At least you were safe! Anywho, I hope this meets your request and finds you well. Sorry it took so long, it's been a crazy past few weeks! I hope this finds you well and safe. ►IMAGE CREDIT: I found this gif here. It is not mine nor do I claim any ownership. This gif does not belong to me. I found it on an outside source. ►DIVIDER CREDIT: @nyxvuxoa ►My Master Masterlist | Hannibal Masterlist
A void, an empty void. He could feel it, the bed felt cold, like it had been emptied for a long while. Hannibal shoots up looking over to see your side of the bed is empty, and cold.
"Where did you go?" He asked aloud, but low and behold no answer. His brow furrowed. "Y/N!? WHERE ARE YOU?!" He called out, but nothing still.
He looks around the bedroom, and all over the upstairs, you've got to be somewhere. He kept repeating in his head. He didn't like that you weren't here, his heart raced, he panicked a bit, and felt this obsessive need to find you. Where could you have gone, you couldn't have gone far. Calling your phone didn't help, you turned it off, but why? Why did you turn it off tonight? That was slightly unlike you.
Hanibal's brow furrows again, finding your phone on the bathroom sink. He leaves it there before he heads down the stairs. Looking around and sees your things are still here, your bag, your shoes, and the front door wide open. Where did you go?
He feels this deeper panic, did you get taken? Did you run away and leave everything here? He started to worry even more, feeling this deeper need to find you. He steps out of the front door and calls for you, but you do not respond. His jaw clenches and he starts to look around outside, walking the property until he looks in the grass and sees footprints, and he follows them.
The ground was wet from the dew, your feet were covered in blades of grass, some dirt specks, your night shirt hung off your body, swaying in the wind as the bottom of it brushed against your legs. You stood there, just staring into the black void of the woods. What were you looking at? What was it you were seeing? What was calling you? You just stood there, watching, swaying slightly, not aware of the chill of the summer night.
Upon following your footprints Hannibal find you, he knows waking you can be a problematic situation, so he guides you back inside. Blinking a few times, you look over at him and tilt your head.
"Were they not calling you, my Love?" you ask.
Hannibal shakes his head. "No, my Darling, they were not, I'm not as special as you are. Come now, back in bed." He states softly.
"Do you think they'll call for you one day?" You ask.
He smiles and shakes his head. "No, my Darling, I do not." He states softly as he gets you back into bed and covers you up.
The moment your head hits that pillow you're back asleep, but afraid you'll wander off again, he takes a seat in the chair in the corner of the bedroom and watches you. Like hell you're going to leave him. The idea of that happening angered him, but he wasn't going to take it out on you. He just truly didn't like the idea, it made him sick and aggressive and overly possessive.
Watching you, he pays close attention to your motions, maybe he can find a way to fix this, you didn't do it often, but when you did, it scared him each time. It was this little bubble in his chest that grew and grew each time he woke up and you weren't there. You scared him, you scared him deeply, and he didn't like that.
With a small moment of silence, he thought he heard you giggle, so he listened a little closer. Sure enough, you were giggling. A soft tilt of his head, and soft chuckle escaped his lips.
"How adorable." He spoke softly, shaking his head he let out a breath and leaned back in his chair and sat there watching you, making sure you weren't going to leave his side again.
#hannibal imagine#hannibal x reader#hannibal x you#hannibal fluff#hannibal angst#hannibal smut#hannibal lecter imagine#Hannibal oneshot#hannibal fanfiction#hannibal lecter x reader#hannibal lecter x you#Mads Mikkelsen gif#hannibal lecter angst#hannibal lecter#hannibal#hannibal gifs#hannibal nbc#hannibal netflix#mads mikkelsen#VoxMortuus
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Kinktober - Day 25 - Rimming
Kinktober 2024 Masterlist
A/N : Y'all had me feeling a little guilty for making you cry with the latest Kinktober post so I decided to treat you to some smut. At first, I thought it would be short and sweet and... well, it is a little longer than expected but you guys don't mind, do you ? 😏. The prompt is "Rimming". I was terrified to write it but I think it turned out pretty fine. Anyway, please tell me what you think ❤️.
If you liked it and want to support a struggling student, you can buy me a cup of coffee. ☕️
CW : Mention of porn watching - SMUT - Rimming - P in V - F in A. - Fluff
MDNI.
When it comes to sex, Marshall is a simple guy. Sure, he likes to try something new every once in a while, but nothing particularly extravagant or extremely kinky. He’s the kind of guy who considers anal as freaky enough. You never really minded that, though. Sure, you were a little kinkier than him, but he was so good in bed that you never got bored. He wouldn’t be caught lacking, finishing without you cumming at least once or twice. And there was so much trust between you that, if you wanted to try something, you could bring it up to him and he wouldn’t judge. He would even indulge you, sometimes, and try to explore some of your kinks and interests. Nothing hardcore, though. In fact, the face he made when you mentioned knife play remained engraved in your memory for a long time. But sure enough, he didn’t mind giving the lighter stuff a try. Only for you, though. You were grateful and enjoyed it, even though some of those attempts ended up with him shaking his head and saying « I don’t think I’d want to do that again. Sorry babe ». You didn’t care, though, since he kept you satisfied, and you shrugged it off. You couldn’t care less that he didn’t like blindfolding or using restraints. In fact, you thought it was rather endearing, the way he’d tell you he wanted to be connected to you, able to hold you in his arms ans look into your eyes.
So you didn’t really care when you brought up a sudden interest in rimming and he quickly dismissed it. « For you, or for me ? » he asked with a raised eyebrow. You gave him a smile and shrugged. « Me. Or you. I’m open to both, I guess. Your choice » you hummed. He took a pause before answering but the way he scrunched his nose and pursed his lips kind of gave it away. « Don’t think I’d enjoy that, babe. Sorry » he said calmly. You nodded and understanding and moved on to another conversation topic. Easy breezy. It never had to be any more complicated than that. You weren’t one to push your desires on other people anyway. You expected it to go like it always did : none of you mentioning it again and sticking to the stuff you both enjoyed.
One afternoon, you had gone to visit a friend while he stayed home, catching up on some emails and work-related stuff. His old computer had been acting up, lately and, though he was kind of pissed when it died, he wasn’t exactly surprised. He walked to the bedroom to borrow your laptop, that you had left on your bedside table. When he opened it, he was immediately met with your browser and tabs you hadn’t bothered closing. Private browsing tabs. Porn, actually. He knew you enjoyed watching porn, sometimes. You’d bee pretty open about it, so he wasn’t surprised. However, being naturally curious, he couldn’t help but let his gaze lingers on your search bar. Nothing wrong with keeping up with his woman’s interests, right ? And apparently, judging by the keywords you’d used, rimming was very much still on your mind, the female being on the receiving end of it.
It was the first time he ever allowed himself to snoop through your things and, though he didn’t feel especially guilty about that, he caught himself feeling a little guilty for refusing to indulge you. He knew you probably didn’t hold it against him, you never did, but he didn’t want you to feel frustrated in any way, shape or form. He clicked on the play button and ended up watching a video. Then another one. He’d never been attracted to the concept of eating ass before, but if there was one thing he was a sucker for, it was your orgasms. Nothing made him get off like you getting off, and the louder he managed to make you scream, the better. He was almost addicted to your moans, the little whimpers you let out when he did something you liked. And when he heard your cries of pleasure as you asked for more, it was music to his ear. The noises coming from the computer speakers were enough to convince him. He’d could be really stupid, sometimes, but he’d never be dumb enough to refuse an opportunity to make you come.
When you came home that night, you were drenched. It was raining cats and dogs and the short walk from the driveway to the house had ruined your hair and makeup. It didn’t help that the temperatures were dropping and, as you walked through the door, you were shivering. « Well… Summer’s officially over » you groaned as you removed your shoes and jacket. « Looks like it. » he hummed. « You’re freezing, my love. How about I draw a nice bath for you ? » he offered with a caring smile. You gladly accepted his offer and, moments later, as you enjoyed the warm water thanked whatever entity it was that blessed you with such a caring partner. He even brought you a glass of your favorite non-alcoholic wine and sat on the bathroom floor as you told him about your day. You let go of all the tension as he washed your hair, enjoying the gentle scratch of his fingers on your scalp. It had to be what heaven felt like. You caught him looking at you as you exited the water and wrapped yourself in a soft towel. The look in his eyes made you feel as if you were a work of art. Under his gaze, you felt beautiful. « Gorgeous » he commented in a low voice. You blushed and he placed a kiss on the tip of your nose before helping you blowdry your hair. You were used to it, him being caring. It has become some sort of routine. In the first moments of your relationship, you’d been a little surprised by it, insisting that you were fully capable of taking care of yourself, what with being a grown, independent woman and everything. But he always replied the same thing « I know. But let me. I want to. ». And it was much too enjoyable for you to refuse so, in time, you had grown accustomed to the royal treatment he never seemed bored of giving you. « Better ? » he asked softly. « Much, much better. Thank you baby» you replied as you wrapped your arms around him.
He led you to the bedroom and you both lay in bed, cuddling and exchanging soft kisses that grew more passionate. « You smell incredible. Bet you taste just as good. », he whispered against your lips. You let out a soft giggle and kissed him again. « Why don’t you have a taste and tell me ? » you suggested in a sultry voice. He nodded and quickly got rid of your towel and his teeshirt, tossing them somewhere before pinning you to the bed. He started by kissing your lips, making his way to your neck and further down. He kissed his way down to your core, giving you a charming grin before starting to eat you out. You closed you eyes and found yourself writing, your body contorting in pleasure as he added a finger. You couldn’t help the moans that escape from your lips, hearing them grow louder and louder as you felt your climax come your way. Just before you could feel the explosion, he stopped and looked up, staring in your eyes with a smirk. « Babe » you complained with a whine. « How about you get on all fours, baby ? » he suggested. Suddenly, the frustration didn’t feel so bad. He knew doggy was, by far, your favorite position. Something about the the angle and depth he could reach. You happily obliged and he got undressed while you playfully shook your ass. You expected him to enter you, but he didn’t.
Instead, he placed a loving kiss on one of your ass cheek. Then another. Then another, inching closer to your hole. You let out a small gasp, understanding where this might be going. « What do you think, love ? Can I taste you there too ? » he asked softly. You couldn’t help but smile from ear to ear. He had no idea how badly you wanted this. Or so you thought. You nodded and he placed a kiss right there, before starting to lick gently, using the tip of his tongue. You welcomed the sensation with curiosity, a hint of apprehension as well. You’d been meaning to give it a try for years but, so far, you hadn’t felt comfortable enough with anyone. And then, your man hadn’t seem too eager. It didn’t take long for a wave of warm pleasure to come your way, radiating through your whole body. You arched your back a little more, letting out a whimper that turned into a long, throaty moan as he kept going and fingered you again. It was just as good as you thought it would be. Better, even. And Marshall didn’t seem disgusted, judging by the way he kept going, from kitten lick to full on flicking is tongue and dipping it. You hadn’t expected the pleasure to be so intense but it had you forcefully gripping at the bedsheets, instinctively shaking your ass in his face. He kept going, encouraged by the gasps and grunts you couldn’t control. Eventually he stopped, his tongue only able to take so much before going numb. He didn’t leave you hanging, though. One second later, he replaced his fingers by his shaft and started thrusting, immediately taking a fast pace. You could feel him rock hard, mistreating your dripping wet cunt. And as if it wasn’t enough, he added his thumb to your puckered hole, his spit having down a nice job as makeshift lube. The sensation sent you reeling and you heard yourself wail, tears streaming down your cheeks. You felt yourself clenching around him and, though he’d been pretty silent so far (compared to you, at least), he let out a throaty moan before you both collapsed on top of each other.
He placed a kiss on your shoulder before rolling to the side and bringing you into a hug. It wasn’t the first time you sobbed after an intense orgasm, but it was the first time it lasted this long. You slowly caught your breath ad looked at him, fucked out face and red eyes complimented by a little drool at the corned of your lips. You probably didn’t look your best by usual standards, but you could have sworn Marshall had never been more attracted to you. « Hey » he whispered as he cupped your cheek. « Good God » you mumbled, earning a chuckle from your man. « You do taste good » he hummed playfully. You stared at him and let out a soft giggle. « Do I ? » you asked as you blushed slightly. « Yep. And I’m definitely going to want more », he added with a wink. The perspective of this happening again had you grinning and you couldn’t hold your excitement. « I’m going to marry the shit out of you, Mathers » you said jokingly as you thought to yourself that this man was the most incredible creature to ever walk the earth, right when you thought he couldn’t get any more perfect. You’d found your match and you would never, ever let him go. Not that you had any doubts before, mind you. « Weird way to propose but ok, » he chuckled, looking at you lovingly. « How does May 3rd sound ? ».
#eminem#marshall mathers#slim shady#eminem fanfiction#eminem x reader#eminem imagine#eminem fluff#marshall mathers x reader#marshall mathers imagine#eminem smut#eminem kinktober#kinktober 2024#kinktober prompts#kinktober
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Hello! Can I request for the same prompt as that post where the character reacts to reader questioning their interest in them but with Luocha and Himeko? If female characters are not accepted then just Luocha is fine! Many thanks
I just did Luocha as I didn’t trust myself to do Himeko justice. Hope that’s alright. 🦦🐿️
Luocha would raise a brow at your insistence to reconsider his feelings towards you.
‘Why should I reconsider my dearest? Am I wrong to confess my feelings?’ He’d ask, curious as to how you’d respond.
‘No- I’m not saying you’re wrong in doing any of those things, it’s just…’ you averted your eyes elsewhere as you tried to fight back the tears that threaten to spill. ‘I don’t see what about me is so interesting to you, I’m just…I’m just me.’ You finished weakly as your vision finally began to blur as the first set of tears streamed down your cheeks silently.
Luocha reached out to hold your hand, lifting it up to his lips for a small kiss before squeeze it reassuringly. ‘You are not just you my dearest,’ he began, ‘to me you are star dust, to me you are infinite, you are the one person I find myself seeking for in moments of doubt and uncertainty.’
‘Why?’ You asked, looking at him as though you’d find the answers you seek in his expression.
‘You are the comfort I seek, the person I see myself returning to day after day and feeling rejuvenated by your smile and inquisitive words about my day.’ Luocha presses a soft kiss to your forehead. ‘You are someone I’d never want to see hurt, emotionally, physically or otherwise.’ He then tugs you to sit on a bench, where he presented you with a flower from seemingly out of nowhere, smiling upon seeing you visibly relax upon smelling the flower. ‘I’ve come to care for you to the point where I cannot fathom a life where you aren’t in it to selfishly indulge in.’
Luocha knew that it was going to take more then poetic words to change a deep rooted mindset, but he can try to unravel it in hopes of finding a way to rid you of this destructive habit of not treating yourself they way you should’ve from the start. He can heal those wounds with time, even if it takes a long while because you were worth the wait.
#luocha imagine#Luocha imagines#luocha x reader#luocha x you#hsr luocha x reader#hsr imagines#hsr imagine#hsr x reader#honkai star rail x reader#honkai star rail#Honkai star rail imagine#Honkai star rail imagines#hsr fanfic#hsr x you#honkai star rail x you
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