#I have nails and I’m not afraid to use them

[haikyu-mp4]

In need of a manicure

word count; 2086 – gn!reader I think, nb! too much blushing

You’re a manager for Date Tech and have been watching over them since the start of the year. The most recent memorable addition to the team was Koganegawa, nicknamed by the third-years as the giant setter. He didn’t progress especially fast, but he had a strong will and nothing could fit better into the group of the iron wall.

After a training match with Karasuno, you noticed Koganegawa talking to Kageyama, the so-called genius setter, about taping up his nails and fingers. You’d already noticed the dark-haired boy fixing his nails between matches, keeping them clean-cut so he wouldn’t have to use tape. That awakened an idea, and you had your own conversation with Tobio a bit later for some tips.

That’s what led to you bringing a nail file to school the next day, quietly observing the team’s volleyball practice until they were finished. Now’s the time to initiate your plan. The boys were tired and sweaty, and you handed out their water bottles with a smile and ‘good job’ for each talented player. After they had cooled off a bit and were about to start cleaning up the gym, you tapped Koganegawa on the shoulder, waiting patiently for him to turn his attention around. As he turned to you, he straightened up with an immediate nervous reaction, as if you were some sergeant of the military.

“Hi, Kogane?” you started, heat rising to your ears at the attention. “Do you have a minute?”

“ANYTHING YOU NEED!” he responded loudly, even bowing. You weren’t that startled, already getting used to that kind of behaviour, but you waved your hand a bit to try and calm him down.

“Can I see your hands, please?” you asked, already looking down as he hesitantly put them up even if he repeated your request curiously. You could see some of the other players glancing at you two with a curiosity matching Koganegawa’s. “I asked Kageyama how he cares for his nails…” you somewhat mumbled, in the process of unwrapping the tape from the boy’s fingers while he looked at your touching hands with wide eyes. A warm blush was taking over his face, making him glance over his shoulder at his upperclassmen and then quickly back at you, almost afraid that the opportunity would just pass him by if he looked away.

“Because- uhh... because he doesn’t tape them?” he managed to ask, trying to breathe even if you were so close. You looked up at him, giving him a bright smile that almost melted him. The only person present who didn’t know about Kogane’s little crush on you seemed to be yourself, not noticing how a boy or two were hiding behind Aone so they could laugh in secret.

“Yes! I was thinking, maybe if we take care of your nails, you won’t keep hurting them. Sorry… I heard you tell him about that.” you said, relatively confidently at first before it turned into a mumble at the shy confession. Koganegawa almost teared up, bowing again.

“THANK YOU!” He didn’t get to say much more, as the other boys made dramatic comments about how lucky they were to have such a caring, beautiful manager. He wanted to say more, like how that was a really great idea, but he seemed to be stuck with the cute smile on his face. You just let their words brush off your shoulders, already fishing the nail file from your pocket and starting with his thumb. You held his hand in yours, the other one filing away carefully, avoiding the sore spots where the nails were already damaged. His hands were so strong that you imagined he wouldn’t need as much tape just for blocking.

“I’m sorry if I was a bit too straightforward.” You started excusing as you were about halfway, carefully dropping the hand you finished and looking up at his face, which wasn’t that easy when you were so close. These high school boys were so tall.

“Not at all! Well, yes.. but… I don’t mind,” he answered, finally finding his voice if only to make sure you didn’t excuse yourself for being especially nice. His eyes carefully gazed upon your face, especially focusing on the rosy tint of your cheeks. He hadn’t seen it so often because you were typically very comfortable around the team.

“Good!” You responded with a smile, but it trailed off into an awkward silence. You had expected Koganegawa to give you his other hand, so you waited until you realised you would have to pick it up yourself. “Almost done,” you mumbled as you did.

“Maybe I’ll be a better setter if I don’t need to have them taped up all the time,” he wondered under his breath, eyes now watching your connected hands again while you filed. You made sure there were no ridges or anything. That’s why it was taking so long! Not at all because holding his hand even like this was kind of nice.

“You’re progressing very well as a setter,” you answered automatically, knowing so from how you watched them. It was your job in the club, after all, to keep track. “I just don’t want you to hurt yourself more than necessary just for a club,” you continued, chuckling to yourself at the thought of how Kogane made this into a contact sport within the team, tumbling into the other blockers when he got a bit too excited. His ambition and spirit were part of what drew you to him in the first place.

Kogane wondered if there was smoke in his lungs, feeling them tighten and then butterflies erupting at your kind words. “Th-thank you,” he said again. Most of the other guys had finished their own business of cleaning out the gym and were moving on to the locker room. Futakuchi might be mentally preparing something for Kogane to fix when he was done being pampered. Not out of jealousy or anything…

One week later, you’re sitting in your classroom with your friends. It’s lunch period and you’re all chatting away about this or that. There was some extra energy in you to finish this school day, knowing that you have volleyball practice after.

However, your attention suddenly diverts from your friend who is telling all of you about something she watched on TV, to a head of angry-bird hair quickly zooming past the windows out in the hallway. Only a second later, Koganegawa appeared in the doorway. His eyes looked around for a moment before finding yours and lighting up like a golden retriever. You sent him a small wave and your friends stopped talking abruptly as the tall setter walked towards you. “Hello!” He said, perhaps a little too loudly for the setting, but no one said anything about it.

“Kogane, what’s up?” You asked, a bit confused. It’s not that you minded, but you rarely communicated with the players outside of the club unless you passed each other in the hallway. The boy bowed to your friends and looked back at you.

“I was thinking, maybe we should do my nails before practice this time?” he said with emphasis on ‘before’ and looking quite determined.

You laughed, a kind of nervous yet happy reaction. It was short and light, but you couldn’t help but adore him. Kogane wasn’t sure how to feel, but he didn’t have much choice but to stare when you looked so gorgeous. “You’re right!” You finally said, leaning over your bag to fish out the nail file again and letting your friends go back to their conversation while you had your attention elsewhere. They already knew about your crush on the setter from how you spoke about him, even if you didn’t know yourself. “Why don’t you sit down? I’ll do it in between finishing my lunch.”

Following this episode, some might say you paid even more attention to Kogane than before. He would come into your classroom at least once a week so you could fix up his nails, even going as far as adding nail polish which he really liked. Especially when yours matched. For volleyball practice, it seemed like he was turning to you every time he felt he did something right and it would always surprise him how you were already looking at him and sent him a thumbs up. The team was fed up, not seriously of course, but there was something disgusting about this whole young love thing. How you two would blush and stutter, awkwardly trying to spend more time together while also trying to not be too obvious in your approaches. They just had to do something.

So Futakuchi swept up beside you after one particular practice, leaning on your shoulder as if you were so much shorter than him. “Fancy joining some of us to go get food?” He asked as if it was the most charming offer ever.

You snorted a laugh and hummed for a moment as if considering, before shrugging his arm off you. “Sure.” You glanced over your shoulder at some of the other guys who were slowly emerging from the locker room. “Who’s going?” You asked, obviously curious about one person in particular, and the smirk on Futakuchi’s face made it obvious that he knew.

“Your favourite will be there.” He teased before winking and walking back to join the others.

When all of you got to the chosen fast-food restaurant, you were walking alongside your favourite setter in front of the others, not noticing anything around you as you discussed whatever odd topic came to mind. It was fun and you enjoyed talking to him outside of school or practice. Maybe you should do this more often. You were so distracted, in fact, that neither of you two noticed when all the others scrambled away and left you, giggling to themselves. Koganegawa was the one who finally looked around, about to ask Onagawa something.

You stopped as well, asking “Where the hell did the others go?” Koganegawa checked his phone, eyes widening at the message from Futakuchi in the team group chat that you managers weren’t in.

Say we had to leave and take your chance to hang out;)

So he looked at you, stuttering for a moment before explaining. “Futakuchi said they had to go.” It wasn’t a very convincing or fleshed-out explanation, but with the captain’s name involved you could only sigh and accept your fate. He wasn’t slick, to say the least.

“We can just order and leave if you want,” you suggested with that sweet smile of yours, looking up at the guy with somewhat hopeful eyes. At least he wished they were hopeful.

“I don’t mind hanging out,” he answered, sticking to the script he got. “If you want!” and so you both nodded and settled into comfortable conversation, spending the evening eating and learning more about each other outside of the court.

Next practice, the team was shocked to find out the two of you still weren’t admitting to your feelings for each other. Still blushing and giggling and trying not to be too obvious while everyone else watched on, dumbfounded.

“Why don’t you just ask her out?” Sakunami asked Koganegawa while they were getting dressed for practice, making him nervous just thinking about it.

“What if she says no,” he pouted. Futakuchi pinched between his eyebrows, putting a harsh hand on his underclassman’s shoulder.

“We promise you she won’t.”

So while you were handing out the water bottles, Kogane just asked.

“Y/n! Will you go out with me?” he yelled and closed his eyes, like not seeing your face would make the possible rejection better. You waited with rosy cheeks and that sweet smile of yours until he peeked one eye open.

“Yes.”

Years later, after high school had passed and you both tried to figure out your lives before settling into some jobs that might be permanent or might not be, you and your high school sweetheart decided this was a forever kind of thing. The two of you wanted to figure out all of life’s obstacles together, and Kogane got the assistance of his new teammates for a sweet and small proposal. Kyotani and Tsukishima were not exactly overly excited as they distracted you for an hour or two before leading you to the magical spot your boyfriend had picked out, where he was waiting with the brightest smile.

Let’s just say your fiance’s nails and yours looked exceptional in the engagement photos.

masterlist

/This is actually one of the first pieces I ever wrote for Haikyu, but I felt like it wasn't good enough to post

#haikyu #haikyu x reader #haikyuu #hq x reader #fanfiction #haikyuu x reader #hq #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x you #haikyu fluff #koganegawa kanji #koganegawa x reader #date tech #dateko

[rae-writes]

angelic alteration

om brothers x reader

wc : 1.k

warnings: nsfw, corruption kink based

synopsis : when Solomon and Diavolo can't fix the problem, it's up to Mc

a/n : thought the angel event (og) could use some more spice so I poured my entire spice rack on it

“Mc…I’m afraid we have bad news.”

You sighed into the receiver, “Yeah? You guys can’t reverse the magic, can you?”

“Nope!” Solomon chirped cheerfully, “Diavolo and Michael’s magic mixed together too strongly for us to reverse ourselves. You’ll just have to wait for them to go back to normal, or…”

“Or…what?”

“Well, this is just a theory, but what if you just corrupted the angelic magic and forced their demonic sides back out?”

“Corrupted, huh..? I like the sound of that.”

†

“I can feel the magic trying to stop me…how. stupidly. annoying.” Lucifer accentuated each word of his complaint with a sharp thrust, face pinched in concentration as sweat beaded at his temple. 

He’d be damned if something as trivial as a hexed bracelet from the celestial realm kept him from indulging in you, the one temptation he would never dare ignore. 

Your nails dug crescent moons into his shoulders, thighs squeezing at his hips tightly as you moaned and panted beneath him. “Lu-ci-fer! S-slow d-own!” 

He growled and sped up in response, snapping his hips into you harshly, “How dare they try to turn me back? I am the Avatar. Of. Pride!” Once again, each word was accentuated with a thrust, making his cock hit deeper and deeper each time. 

And he was so fucking proud each time he had you a moaning mess underneath him, crying out his name, begging him not to stop— you made his sin flood his entire body every time. 

An electric charge cracked through the air for a brief second before the bangle broke in half, magic forcibly shattering under Lucifer’s sheer prowess. 

He grinned sharply, capturing your legs against your chest in a mating press as he went even harder. His wings shedded to black, spanning out proudly behind him as the halo melted down into his horns. 

“I’m going to ruin you, do you hear me? You’re not leaving this bed- not tonight, or in the morning, or maybe even until tomorrow afternoon…I’m keeping you until I’ve had my fill.”

†

The sight of Mammon’s blue eyes peering up while his mouth was busy pleasuring you had always been a pretty sight— the shimmering halo was only a little bonus this time. 

But you wanted his horns to hold onto. “Just like that, Mams…doing so well, pretty boy.” Your hips rocked over his mouth, grinning down at him with gold flickering in your eyes. 

He was all about giving now that the bangle had taken hold, which even before, Mammon always keened when you sat on his face and just used him. 

The second born was moaning and whining and whimpering against your skin as his tongue lapped up everything he could, “Mmph- like this? ‘M I doing good, Mc?” 

“Y-yeah, baby, fuck— so good…” you carded your fingers through Mammon’s hair, feeling him get more and more excited before you lifted up off his face. 

And he was absolutely distraught with the lack of your taste, desperate cry leaving him as he tried to chase after you. “No, no, no! Mc, please, come back— wasn’t done, wanna taste you still, wanna make you feel good, please!” 

The laugh you let out made him whine even louder, fingers gripping frantically at your thighs. It was like a switch flipped, magic being overtaken by his greed. 

His eyes flickered gold like yours, a whiny growl escaping him. He forced you on your back within a second, mouth working at you even more desperately now as he held you down and took what he wanted— and he wanted to make you cum. 

“Jus’ let me, please let me make you cum— you taste so good, Mc, I don’t wanna stop. Want you to scream my name and yank my hair, grip my horns, just give me more- more, more, more!” 

†

A small shriek left Levi when you rammed against his prostate, hiccuped cries of your name following. His back arched, wings flaring out behind him, making you hit even deeper spots inside of him. 

With his new attitude, he’d been letting everyone else spend time with you and he was finally feeling the built up envy creep along his spine, right beside the spikes of pleasure. 

“Aww…look at you. So sweet for me, huh? Why so shy, Levi? Wasn’t this what you meant about strengthening connections?” 

Garbled sounds left him, courtesy of your fingers stuffed in his mouth. His eyes rolled back, hands gripping at your hips desperately, though it wasn’t clear if he was pushing you away or pulling you closer.

“How am I gonna know I’m doing good if you don’t tell me, ‘vi? C’mon, sweet thing, tell me. Or do you not want me?” 

It was like you asked the unthinkable. A loud whine left him and his tail returned, knocking the halo right off his head before it coiled around your abdomen. 

“No! I want you, I want you so badly, please keep fucking me— don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop!” Diamond shaped scales scattered across his body as the magic wore out. 

You cooed, thrusting into him sharply, making his body lurch, “Good boy, Leviathan..” 

†

“Fuck!” Satan cries out, fingers digging into his white wings to try and keep them from fluttering. His back arched almost painfully, loudly begging you to keep going. 

“Oh, look at you…” the coos that left you made him flush red, giving you a great sense of satisfaction. This was the most he’d been riled up since putting that ridiculous bangle on.

Your thighs were burning at the unforgiving pace you were riding him at, beads of sweat splashing onto his skin, so you decided to change the game a little. 

“Come on, Tannie, if you want it, work for it.” You settled your weight on top of him, ceasing your movements as you cockwarmed him instead. 

A displeased growl comes from the back of his throat, eyes snapping open with a glowing green. “Mc, move! Please!” 

Slowly, the halo above his head began to flicker and dim before it shattered, dissipating in the air. Another growl escaped him as his wings followed suit, tail lashing out like a whip. 

“That’s it— c’mon-!” You gasped when he yanked you forwards, chest pressing against his as his tail locked you in place. The only sounds that could leave you now were broken moans as he fucked you almost viciously. 

“You know how I feel about you fucking. teasing. me. Feels good doesn’t it? Yeah? Cause I’m not stopping. ‘M not stopping until I physically can’t fuck you anymore— fuck, I needed you.” 

†

Unabashed moans echo off the walls of Asmo’s bathroom as the fifth born writhes under your touch. The sound of water sloshing makes his cheeks burn fiery red and the sound of you moaning back at him makes it even worse. 

“W-wait! You d-don’t have to— oh!” 

“Shh, Azzy…’m just taking care of you. You were so hard and aching…could see it even though you tried to hide under the water.” 

The white feathers ruffled with pleasure (slowly shedded away and turning back), hips jerking frantically to chase the pleasure. The bangle’s magic was completely buried under how hot you made him feel and the feeling of you licking along the edges of his leathery wings increased it ten fold. 

“Yes, Mc, like that— don’t stop, just like that, just like that!” Amso curled over on you, horns knocking against your shoulder as he cried out even louder. 

You fisted his cock harder and swiped your thumb over the tip relentlessly, “Yeah? Made you feel so good, you corrupted yourself, huh? Pretty little Azzy…come on, cum.” 

The squeal he let out cracked halfway through, broken cries of your name following like a mantra. His hand encased yours, making sure you didn’t stop jerking him off. 

“K-keep going, don’t stop! Wanna cum for you again ‘n again, gotta make up for when I was giving you away to the others, please, please, let me cum again for you!”

†

“H-haaah…ah! M-Mc…what’re you..o-oh..doing?” 

“You said it made you happier seeing others get to eat, so…” you hummed, licking your lips before digging your tongue back into the slit of his cock, “I’m just..enjoying my meal…” 

Beel had always lost his cool when you went down on him, finding your mouth to be too good at pleasuring him. The growl he let out was something only a demon could make. 

The glowing of the bangle did nothing to deter you— in fact, you only laughed and peered up at him with the red sin of gluttony swirling through your irises. With another hum, you enveloped his cock in your mouth and forced your head as far down as you could, swallowing around him. 

He tried so hard to not buck into your mouth or grip at your head as the magic worked to keep his ravenous nature at bay, but…that’s just not who he was anymore. 

“C’mon, Beelie…want you to cum in my mouth, I wanna taste you..pretty please? Let me have it…” 

A low groan fell past his lips, hips finally jerking up and accidentally making you choke. A rushed apology was given as his fingers tangled in your hair and gently guided your head at a faster pace. 

The beating of his insectual wings was rapid as he got closer, magic completely dissipating when he let out a sound akin to a small roar, grabbing at his own horns when he came. 

Watching you pull away with visibly stuffed cheeks, slowly working on swallowing it all (though drops still ran down your chin) made a sharp pang shoot through him. 

“Thank you…you always make me feel so good, Mc…but..now ‘m hungry. Let me return the favor..wanna taste you too.” 

†

“A-are you sure…this is o-okay?” Belphie chokes out quietly, hands pressing down on your hips to keep you pinned to the bed with your knees bent to your sides. 

Your fingers curl in the sheets, body lurching forward at each thrust, “yeah, ‘s okay— feels good, doesn’t it? You’re doing so good, Bel…” 

The clipped whines and gasps that Belphie was making made his cheeks flair with an embarrassed flush; but you were right. It felt so. fucking. good. And he didn’t think he ever wanted to stop. 

Through the pleasure, it was easy to ignore the glowing bangle on his wrist and the voice in the back of his head telling him that he should have more reservations- that he shouldn’t be doing this— that voice wasn’t even his. Belphie wanted this, he did! 

As your hands stretched back to claw at his lower stomach, you moaned out his name and wiggled your hips, begging him to go faster. 

“Please, Bel…know you can go f-faster than this, want you to fuck me— please, please, please! Don’t wan’ you to be an angel, want you to be my demon again-!” 

Magic cracked in the air, sending the hair on the back of your neck rising before a familiar tail curled around your stomach and yanked your lower half higher up, forcing your chest further into the mattress. 

The attic bed creaked with the force he slammed into you at, whines mixing with growls now; his horns pressed against your skin as he rested his forehead against your back, making it arch even more.  “Yeah? You want me to fuck you senseless again? Couldn’t even go a couple days without having me play with you, fuck, you’re such a slut for me.”

#obey me x reader #om x reader #obey me smut #om smut #lucifer x reader #om lucifer #lucifer smut #mammon x reader #om mammon #mammon smut #leviathan x reader #om levi #leviathan smut #satan x reader #om satan #satan smut #asmo x reader #om asmo #asmo smut #beel x reader #om beel #beel smut #belphie x reader #om belphegor #belphie smut

[darkbluekies]

i have been DREAMING of a silas torture scene!!! i have literally read, re-read, and re-re-read every word you’ve ever written about that man .. you have no IDEA how much I am going to eat up his torture story 🤭🤭 thank you for feeding us!!! <3<3

In the basement

Mafia!yandere OC x reader

Summary: you find yourself in Silas' basement once again and he decides to try a new torture technique — which backfires.

Warnings: torture, violence, mentions of starvation, manipulation burning, boiling water, mentions of cuts, mentions of sawing off people's limbs, ripping out teeth and nails, blood, beating, (let me know if you find more, I have been editing and rewriting so much that I've forgotten what is in the story at this point)

Word count: 3.5k

You lift your head when you can hear footsteps coming towards you. The mumble of Silas men greeting someone is all you need to know who’s here to see you. 

“There we have them”, Silas snickers and clicks his tongue amusedly. He’s acting as if he’s talking to a child. “Are we ready to act like a big girl/boy again?”

You glare up at him, where he stands with his hands in his front pockets. If you could, you’d tackle him until he hits his head, but your ankles are chained to the cold floor.

“I fucking hate you”, you mutter coldly. 

“Oh, do you now?” he chuckles cockily  and grabs your chin firmly, tilting it up to look at him. 

Your neck gets strained beyond its limits. Silas is tall and refuses to crouch down to make it easier for you to look up at him.

"Still disobeying?" he asks. "I thought you'd be good by now. I miss you, little thing. I want to have you back in my arms. Who am I supposed to hug at night?"

"Hug a cactus", you spit. "Suits your pleasant personality-"

Silas chuckles and grabs a fistful of your hair. He sinks down in front of you and forces you to look at him. Your eyes widen in fear and your scalp burns at his fingertips. You can feel your heart beat harshly in your chest. Suddenly, you remember why you've been afraid of him before — why his techniques always work. You seem to forget the basement when you've been let out, everything turning into a blur. All you remember is that you do not want to go back. But somehow, you always manage to.

"You don't want me to be nice, do you?" he asks you. "Want me to break that pretty little head until you're bleeding, hm?"

You shake your head quickly. Suddenly, you've figuratively your tongue — and if you're not careful you'll soon literally lose it. 

Silas lets go of your hair and stands up. You keep your head down. 

“Hm, what should we do to teach you a lesson?” Silas thinks out loud and takes a hold of your hand. “Should we … break some fingers?”

You shake your head quickly and try to take your hand back. Silas holds it tightly and brings out a lighter from his pocket. You panic and try to rip your hand out of his iron grip. Silas traps you against the wall with his knee and elbow keeping you in place. He shifts his bodyweight onto you and traps your arm onto the wall by securing your wrist to the surface. With his other hand, he brings out his lighter. You squirm desperately under him.

“Alright, I’m not going to break your pretty fingers”, he says. “You need them to please me.” 

“Please, please, don’t!” you screech and try to kick him. “Silas, don’t!”

He lights it.

“Do you know how my heart feels right now, Y/N?” he asks calmly. “It’s burning. I think it’s only fair for you to feel it too, to understand how hurt I feel.”

He moves the flame to your arm, holding it under your skin. You cry out in pain and apply more force to your wiggling. A stance of burning flesh reaches your nose. Silas holds the flame for a good thirty seconds before removing it. He brushes some soot off of your arm and bends down to kiss it. He moves on to your next arm, then your waist. You finally manage to pull your arms free and push him away. You try to sink down on the floor, but he lifts you up by your shoulders. 

“I need you to stand up for me”, Silas says. “Still with me?”

Your face scrunches up in pain. Silas shakes you carefully. 

“Still with me, baby?” he asks in a loving voice that doesn’t match his manners. 

You nod weakly. Silas smiles slightly and places you back at the wall. Your poor legs are still cuffed and feeling like jelly. Silas chuckles. 

He looks over his shoulder as two of his men come in with four buckets of water. You stare at them with wide eyes. This is new. 

“You know I can’t hurt you”, Silas says and walks over to the buckets. 

“Can’t hurt me?” you repeat in disbelief and show your arms full of cuts and bruises. “You’ve burned me! You’ve cut me!”

“You should see what he does to people he doesn’t like”, one of his men smirks. 

“Don’t talk to them”, Silas warns him and grabs the man by his collar. “Or you’ll get to taste what I do to those I don’t like.”

“Yes, sir, sorry, sir.”

Silas lets him go and grabs one of the buckets. He walks back to you where you stand against the wall. You want to sink into it. With your eyes glued onto the bucket, you open your mouth to ask what he’s going to do but you don’t have time to do so before he throws it at you. You hide your face with your arms and scream. Boiling hot water crashes against your body. Your dirty clothes stick onto you and quickly grow cold. You breathe heavily and look at Silas in shock and pain. He has already turned around to get the next bucket. Suddenly, everything’s ice cold and you scream again. Somehow, it’s worse this time. The quick temperature change feels like sharp needles penetrating your skin. You’re sure that Silas’ men upstairs can hear you by now. 

You shake your head in desperation as you see Silas pick up the next bucket. 

“Silas, please-”, you cry out. 

“You caused this yourself, Y/N”, Silas reminds you. “You have one simple rule: do not leave me. And what did you do?”

You stay quiet. He throws the next buckets full of water. Scorching hot. You scream even louder and start to sob. 

“What did you do?” Silas asks testingly and walks over to the last bucket. 

“I-I tried to run away!” you cry out and hug your shaking body. 

“And?” 

He picks up the next bucket. 

“I talked to a cop!” you sob and press yourself closer to the cement wall. “I’m sorry, I’ll never do that again! Please don’t hurt me anymore! Please, Silas, I-I’ll do anything!”

Silas scoffs. “You wanted to leave me, get me in trouble and destroy everything I’ve built up these last ten years! And I’m just supposed to … forgive you?”

You sob. You know how proud Silas is of his imperium. He's spent the last ten years building it to become the most fearless and powerful criminal in the country. You just wanted him to feel as helpless as you do.

Silas throws the last bucket at you and an icy waterfall greets you. One last scream leaves your panicked body. You sink down in a curled up ball as you hug your body, trying to keep some kind of warmth and shield. You sob and whimper with your head full of fear and nerve system confused. Silas throws the plastic bucket to the side and walks over to you. He sinks down in front of your body and grabs your chin between his index finger and thumb, like he did before. 

“What do I need to do to make you obedient?” he asks. “Do I need to kill everyone to make you stay with me?”

“Please …”, you plead through hammering teeth. “Please don’t, please-”

He hushes and cups your cold, wet cheeks. 

“You only need me anyway”, he says softly. “All those other people — your family, your friends — they don’t care about you like I do, do they? They just pretend to spare your feelings. Have they even tried to find you? Or help you? They’re probably going on with their lives the same, as if nothing has changed, in this precise moment.”

“You don’t know that”, you whisper and sniffle. 

“I do know. I have been watching them.” Silas moves closer to you. “If they really cared about you, they’d tell you when you did something wrong, and then help you fix it. That's what families do, they help you become a better version of yourself. They wouldn’t lie and let you destroy and embarrass yourself. The reason I put you down here, Y/N, is because you're my family, someone I care very much about. I have to teach you a lesson to make sure that you don’t do anything dumb. You’re a danger to yourself. You need me to take care of you, to teach you what is right and wrong.” He caresses your cheeks. “If only you didn’t do such stupid things I wouldn’t have to do these hurtful things. You know I love you.”

You sob and look down. 

"Say it back, Y/N", he urges you. "Say that you love me."

"I … I love you", you mumble.

"Good girl/boy."

Silas warm lips presses a hard kiss to your forehead before standing up. You sit frozen while he walks up the stairs. 

Silas leaves you alone for another twenty four hours before he walks down again, to see if you’ve broken yet. If you haven’t, he’s going to take your clothes and carve in his name in your leg to force you to see his name every time you open your eyes. He sees you curled up in a ball in the corner of the dark, cold basement. You’re not moving. 

“Are you sleeping, baby?” he smirks. “Rise and shine, we have work to do! We’re not done yet.”

You don’t move. You must be weak from hunger. 

“If you act well today, I might get you something to eat”, he smiles and walks over to you. “Would you like that?”

He’s much, much nicer to you than to the other people who have the displeasure of ending up in his basement. He would never talk to them as sweetly as he does to you, never negotiate with them like this. He would never change his torture methods to be nicer to anyone else but you. 

“Y/N.”

You don’t give him any attention. Silas rolls his eyes and grabs your hair to turn your face to him. You moan out a weak painful sound. Something’s wrong, Silas can tell that. He sinks down in front of you and presses his hand to your forehead. 

Shit.

Silas can feel how his heart skips a beat. He should have realized that you would have gotten sick if he left you in this cold basement in your ice cold, soaked clothes and hair. He gulps and cups your cheeks. 

“Are you awake?” he asks quickly. “Baby, look at me.”

You open your eyes slowly and look at him with dull, glossy eyes. Silas looks over his shoulder, towards the stairs. 

“Get me the keys to the cuffs!” he roars. 

He turns back to you and hastily brushes the hair out of your face. 

“Hold out, darling”, he says softly. “You’ll be taken care of as soon as I get the key.”

You cough out a weak sound that seem to come from deep inside of you. Silas helps you by patting your back. 

A woman comes down and gives Silas’ his keys. He hurries to uncuff your ankles and pick your warm, limp body up in his arms. He hurries up the basement stairs and then up the next stairs to your bedroom. He takes your cold clothes off of you and gives you new, dry ones. His sweatpants, his t-shirt. You black out right away. He takes the time to take care of your older cuts and your newer burns before tucking you in bed. Silas watches you with a burning gaze. He clenches his jaw before walking out of the room. His second in command stands downstairs.

"You", he says angrily.

"Yes, boss?" he asks and looks up from his phone. "What can I help you with?"

"Go up to the bedroom and watch over Y/N. I don't want them to be alone."

"Sure, but what are you going to do?"

"I'm going to work a bit. I need to get my mind on other things."

"I will watch them for you."

"Thank you." He grabs his shoulder. "You know the rules. Recite them."

"I will not talk to them if not necessary. I will not answer any questions and I will not touch them if not necessary. I will let you know right away if something is wrong.”

Silas nods and walks away. He walks into his office and sits down behind his desk. Although he tries to concentrate on paperwork, anger is boiling through his veins. He doesn’t know what he’s angry at — himself, you or his men. Himself for forgetting that you could get extremely sick, his men for not warning him … or you for getting out of your punishment before he had gotten to the point he wanted. He tells himself that this sudden sickness is a part of your punishment, but it doesn’t help his racing heart. 

Silas pours himself a glass of brandy, in hopes to calm his nerves. The liquid burns down his throat and warms up his body, but it doesn’t help. Before he can stop himself, he throws the glass as hard as he can against the wall. It shatters into a million pieces. The door opens quickly. 

“Boss, what’s wrong?” one of his men asks. 

“Get me someone I can mangle or else I’ll go insane”, Silas breathes out through gritted teeth. “Take someone from the street if you have to — just bring me someone I can kill.”

You open your eyes and feel how a lump has grown in your throat. You try to cough and rip your entire vocal chords with it. A cough attack erupts from deep inside your stomach. Every cough hurts worse than the one before and every breath in feels as dry as an ocean. 

“Oh, careful”, a voice says and helps you sit up. He holds a glass of water to your lips. “Drink up.”

You recognize the man beside you. Silas’ second in command? Where’s Silas?

“You’re awake”, he states and stands up from his chair after putting down the glass. “I’ll go get the boss-”

You panic and shake your head.

“Please stay.” You’re caught by surprise that your voice comes out as nasally and thick as it does, although it shouldn’t surprise you in the slightest. “Don’t get him.”

“I have rules to follow.”

“I have to ask you something first.”

The second in command sighs and turns his head over his shoulder to look at you. He looks tired, but you can’t let him leave until you’ve had your question answered.

“I’m sorry, Y/N, I’m not allowed to answer your questions”, he says. 

“I really need an answer”, you plead. 

“Silas will answer-”

“I don’t want his answer. He’ll lie to me. Please.”

He sighs and turns to you with his arms crossed over his muscular chest. “Let me hear the question first.”

“What do Silas do to the people he doesn’t like?”

Silas runs his hand through his sweaty hair. The man in front of him cries out. Silas has continued to throw punch after punch, using this strange man as a boxing doll. His fists are sore and bloody. Sweat drips down his back. The man in front of him has gotten his teeth pulled out with pliers, his hair has gotten cut down to his bleeding roots and nails have been ripped off. Silas had forgotten to gag him at first but the second the first loud scream exited the man's body, all he could see in front of him was your terrified eyes waking up to it.

"Boss, Y/N’s awake", a voice behind him says. Second in command.

"Fuck, I'm all bloody", Silas mutters and looks down at his black jeans and shirt that he's pulled the sleeves up on. "I can’t go up like this. Get me a washcloth."

The second in command drowns a cloth in a bucket of water. Silas uses it to scrub his arms, neck and face while walking up to you. When he opens the door, he finds you sitting up in bed, hugging your knees close to your chest.

"Hi, baby, how are you feeling?" he asks and sits down on the side of the bed.

Your eyes scan hum warily, stopping at his arms. Traces of blood can still be visible in the hair strands. Silas pulls down his sleeves.

"Don't worry about that", he says with an embarrassed smile. "How are you feeling, darling?"

"It hurts."

Silas reaches out to caress your cheek, but you flinch away. He frowns.

"I'm not going to hurt you anymore", he says carefully.

“Why are you bloody?” you whisper. “What have you done?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Why do you have to like me? Why do I have to go through this?”

You start to ramble for yourself and Silas hushes loudly. 

“You’re not making any sense, little thing”, he says. “Slow down, take a deep breath.”

“Why do you do those things to people?” you almost hyperventilate before starting to cough. 

Tears flow down your cheeks. You’re absolutely hysteric. Silas freezes. You know something.

“Why do I do what?” he asks quickly, grabbing your shoulders tightly. “Did someone tell you anything? What did they say?”

You sob and shake your head. 

“Y/N, if you don’t tell me what someone has put in your head-”, Silas says sternly. 

“You saw off people’s limbs!” you sob. “You … y-you-”

“Y/N, enough. Who told you?”

You don’t answer. Another cough attack erupts. Silas starts to get annoyed. 

“Y/N, who told you?” he asks through gritted teeth. “If you’re trying to hide someone, I’m throwing you back into the basement right away, with a fever or not.”

You sigh and glance up at him in pure fear. “Your second in command …”

“That motherfucker-”

Silas lets go off your shoulders and fly up from the bed. He can’t help but feel a deep ache in his heart. His second in command has been with him since he started his ‘organization’ — he’s been with him through thick and thin, had his back through everything. Him, out of anyone, knows the rules better. Silas trusts him to keep an eye on you alone, knowing that he would never betray him … or at least believing that.

He grabs his second in command and throws him against the wall.

“Traitor!” Silas growls. “You told them?!”

“They said that they had to know!” the second in command answered loudly, defending himself. “They wanted to know if you really love them! They wanted to know if you really were softer on them than others! They thought you’d lie if they asked you! I did you a fucking favour!”

They meet eyes for a few seconds before Silas curses and lets him go. He backs away, running his hand through his black hair. 

“Silas, I didn’t do anything to betray you”, the second in command says calmly. “I answered Y/N’s question in your favor. If I didn’t, they’d be even more wary of you.”

Silas doesn’t answer. His head and his heart are battling. 

He notices how you’re sitting at the top of the stairs, leaning against the railing, coughing into your arm. You’ve dragged yourself out of bed to stop him, but you couldn’t get far enough before your weak, aching body betrayed you.

“Y/N, what are you doing out of bed?!” Silas says sternly. “You need to rest!”

He runs up the stairs and picks you up. You’re tucked in again. 

“If you leave the bed again, I’ll have to cuff you”, he says carefully. “I don’t want you running around — especially when you’re sick.”

You’re very familiar with the chains that he uses to keep you in bed. Silas climbs sinto bed and sits on top of your legs to make sure you stay in place. 

“Y/N, Y/N, listen to me”, he says and cups your cheeks. “I could never do those things to you. You don’t have to be afraid of me.”

“You hurt me”, you remind him through sobs. “Even if it wasn’t as bad as you do to others, you still hurt me!”

“You know I don’t want to, but I have to. I have to make sure you don’t do stupid things like this — asking my men about my work. You know better than this and I know that. That’s why I’m helping you get back on the right track. If I don’t, you become like this, all frantic and scared. Why don’t you just let me protect you? Aren’t you tired of getting your heart in trouble? I know you are, baby …”

You sob which to him seems to be all the answers he needs.

“Trust me”, Silas says. “Trust that I know what’s best for you and you will never have to feel this kind of pain and fear again, okay?”

You can feel how your body starts to relax against your will. Silas wipes your tears and kisses your forehead. 

“My pretty, little baby”, he whispers comfortingly. “Everything will be okay. As long as I'm here, nothing will ever happen to you. I'll make sure of it, I'll help you.”

You sob and close your eyes. Once again, he wins.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere drabbles #yandere oc x you #yandere mafia #yandere fics #yandere stories #yandere oc x reader #yandere male #yandere oc

[neuvistar]

FRAGILE.

— featuring ┊neuvillette x fem!reader

— warnings / content warnings ┊all consensual. not proofread cuz i’m tired, he’s in his dragon form(?) in this one guys! tiny bit of oral (f!receiving), size k!nk if u squint, TIIINY bit of vaginal finger!ng, he has two here if ykwim, dirty talk, implied double penetration, overstimulation(?) perhaps, overall suggestive content. 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

— a/n ┊daaadddyyyy’s home!! (satoru gojo omg) maryse is writing again giys! i hope this is fine, i’ll try my best 2 come back n start writing for hsr n jjk! i know i have a plan for poly jingren x reader so stay tuned for that! (hehe)

tags: @yanqingisim @hiraethsdesires

HUMANS SURE ARE FRAGILE.. neuvillettte thinks. he thinks it’s adorable just how easily enough you come whenever you both have.. alone time. he thinks it’s adorable just how quick you can come with simple intimate acts! like.. the help of his two fingers curling inside your drenched pussy. it’s embarrassing really.. it’s embarrassing how hard he gets from listening to your moans and cries of his name, palming himself through his pants while his fingers worked absolutely wonders on you.

“ah.. you came already.” he murmured against your ear, taking in the sounds of your low sighs and whimpers as your hands clutched onto his dragon horns for dear life, legs shaking one last time when he plunged his fingers into you once more.. immediately forcing another orgasm out of you. “what a mess.. you impress me everyday with how quick you can come from my fingers alone, love. do you really enjoy this that much?”

HUMANS SURE ARE FRAGILE.. neuvillette thinks. he’s afraid he’ll break you so easily just like glass, neuvillette’s touches and caresses are enough to put you in a daze, they’re.. just so gentle, they hold so much feeling in them, so much that you could almost feel his love. his caresses and touches.. even the slightest ones, carry so much emotion in them.. so much admiration, love for you and only you.

“easy there, take it easy.” he pressed a chaste kiss to your neck while he ran his fingers all over your skin as an attempt to calm you down as you rode him for the first time in his dragon form.. tears almost forming from your eyes as filthy whines left your lips, using his horns for support.. lowering yourself down.. and up. keeping a good rhythm and pace. the long haired male groaned at the sudden action, your hands on his horns weren’t easy to ignore that’s for sure. “easy, love.. easy. there.. that’s good,” he praised, pinching your nipple ever so gently. “good girl. take it easy, don’t force yourself.”

HUMANS SURE ARE FRAGILE.. neuvillette thinks. he thinks it’s cute how much your body shakes from his tongue, it was.. a sight to behold seeing just how wet you were. the more he ate you out, the more he wanted to pleasure you. he took his time, licking at all the right places while his oddly long tongue plunged itself in and out of you, gazing up to you with those puppy yet kind eyes of his. oh how easily he’s got your thighs pinned down, lapping down at your juices.. tongue curling itself inside of your soaking wet heat while your hands tighten it’s grip on his horns. “a—archons.. neuvi.. neuvi please!” your hands on his horns helped you push him down further into your pussy, bucking your hips against his mouth to feel more of his tongue against your juices

he loved it. neuvillette loves how easily you fall apart from his tongue alone, constant noises of slurping and soft groans filling the room as he tried other methods to pleasure you, his nails almost cutting through your skin from how tightly he was gripping onto your thighs.

HUMANS SURE ARE FRAGILE.. neuvillette thinks. you’re so fragile.. humans are. he thinks that one wrong move, he’ll break you in a millisecond. neuvillette holds you as if he was a little boy protecting a new toy he just got, like i said.. his touches and caresses are gentle.. afraid to hurt you even the slightest. he thinks it’s fascinating how fast your cunt sucks him in, clenching around one of his cocks while the other slowly but steadily rubs against your slit. he thinks it’s fascinating how much you squirm, as fragile as you are.. he really does try his best to go slowly for your sake, his huge cock rubbing against your insides like it’s nothing, going deeper and deeper the more he hears the breathy moans leaving your pretty lips.

“is this.. alright, my love? i’m not hurting you now, am i?” you almost couldn’t even hear him from how good it felt.. you nodded eagerly as a response.. you couldn’t speak no matter how hard you tried. every-time you did, you would end up focusing on the bulge that appeared on your belly instead. humans are fragile.. and interesting, he thinks he would put his hand over the bulge that always appeared on your stomach every single time he fucks you good, applying pressure and pressing his hand down over it.. feeling himself going in and out of you. neuvillette really does tries his best to go slow, savouring the moment as much as he can.. but his focus are always set on how much of a size difference you both have.. he wonders just how much more your body can take him, are humans really that fragile as others presume?

HUMANS SURE ARE FRAGILE.. neuvillette thinks. neuvillette thinks it’s cute how much your body shakes in his hold after fucking your brains out nonstop, he finds it absolutely surprising just how good you can take both of his cocks inside of you.. at the same time in the same hole. he thinks it’s fascinating how much a human can come in such short amount of time.. he finds it fascinating just how easily your juices coat his dick with white.. he finds it sexy how bloated your stomach can become whenever he fucks his cum back into your hole, the disgusting sounds of squelching was all that could ring through your ears.. overstimulating your body as he can’t get enough of you. rubbing your clit with his thumb while your inner thighs are covered in stickiness, but it’s still not enough for him.

“one m—more please, darling.. one more.. i need more of you.. archons..” his breath was heavy, he thinks it’s amazing that you could take two of his cocks at once, he just.. can’t seem to figure out how you do it! it’s so fascinating! with neuvillette pinning your knees down on each side of your head.. the pleasure becomes more and more intense. his two cocks bullying themselves more deeper into you, he just can’t get enough of it! your overstimulated body trembled in his touch, countless orgasms coming again and again.. sending electricity to the rest of your veins. your legs shivering when he came inside once more.. filling you up to the brim until it dripped down your sweet skin.

hmm.. maybe humans aren’t so fragile after all.

#ᖭི༏ᖫྀ maryse’s diary ૮꒰˶˃̵ ^ ˂̵˵꒱ა #genshin impact #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #genshin x reader #genshin x you #neuvillette <33 #genshin impact x reader #neuvilette x you #neuvillette smut #neuvillette x reader #OMFGGGG. #neuvillette brainrot so strong guys..

[emmyrosee]

Rintaro is exhausted.

He’s been sprinting around non-stop these past few hours- yes, hours, he’s a man of weakness- trying to hold the fort while you’re at the doctors-that-hes-not-invited-to.

Kaiya, his little princess who now seems like the spawn of damned Satan, is on the path to weening off nap time, and it shows. Akito, the handsome and kind asshole, only seems to be interested in essay he’s doing in his room to avoid watching Kaiya.

It’s been four hours. Rintaro wants to leave these kids at a bus stop and ditch them. He doesn’t know how you do this every day.

“I’m home!” You call with a gentle close of the front door, and Rintaro cries in relief. Kaiya quickly dashes to you, followed by Rintaro himself scrambling behind her. You smile, and it’s like he can hear the choir of angels with it. “Shouldn’t you be asleep?” You ask Kaiya, and it’s prompted with a yawn.

Rintaro deflates, “she’s skipping sleep, remember? No more put downs, that’s why she’s being absolutely feral right now.”

You hum in agreement and look over at your little girl, who’s head is burrowed in the curve of your neck. “That’s true, but the pediatrician also said to not force her to stay awake so early, yeah?”

Rintaro whines in the back of his throat. You chuckle and head towards Kaiya’s bedroom, only stopping briefly to kiss your husband’s cheek. “You did great, my love. I’ll put her down and I’ll come right back out to take care of you.” He smiles softly and watches as you go. He stays put, like an obedient dog waiting for your command, hell he practically feels his invisible tail wagging at your return.

“Good boy,” you tease, grabbing his hand and bringing him to the couch. You sit down and smile easily, “okay. Tell me all about it.”

“They’re animals,” he groans, flopping on the couch next to you. “Literally. How do you deal with them everyday?”

You snort, “you get used to initiating the authority. You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, but-“ In the background, there’s a curse word that slips from Kaiya’s lips, followed by a crash in her bedroom, and Rintaro almost cries.

“God, we’re done, right?” He pants, flopping next to you on the couch. You laugh and shift over to gently card his hair through your nails.

“Done with what, baby?”

“We’re done,” he repeats. “No more kids. No more siblings. We’ve capped at two, that’s enough, they’re cute until their not, and we’re fine being aunts and uncles from now on.”

You smile down at Rintaro, continuing to card his soft locks. You don’t say anything though, only laughing again when one green eye peeks open.

“This is the point where you say ‘yes my beloved husband, we’re done, you’re getting a vasectomy tomorrow and laid every other night.’”

You continue to smile. He sits up, playfully afraid, before his eyes widen in realization.

“No.”

You raise your hands in defense, “I didn’t say anything.”

“I know that look, it’s the same damn look you gave me when you bought our dogs, don’t lie to me, woman.”

You shake your head softly before he tries to make sense of the non-verbal news you’ve just shared with him.

“You’re… we’re having another baby?”

“Don’t be silly!” You scoff, swatting at his chest. “I wouldn’t make a big song and dance if we were having another baby!”

There’s a glimmer of sadness in his eye while he pretends to deflate in relief, hand clutching to his chest dramatically. He opens his mouth to speak while you dig through your purse in search for a small, yellow envelope. If he wasn’t wallowing in self pity, he’d ask what you were looking for, what you could’ve possibly picked up from the gynecologist to home.

You grab it, dig around for the small set of pictures and toss it onto his lap, letting him look and fully take in the pictures, eyes wide as saucers and hands trembling slightly.

Ultrasound pictures.

He looks up at you. You smile down with a nod.

“We’re having two.”

#posting before the other dad rintaro piece bc timelines aren’t real and the moon is cheese 🫶🏻 #suna rintaro #suna rintaro fluff #suna rintaro x reader #suna rintaro x reader fluff #suna rintaro x f!reader #suna rintaro haikyuu #suna #suna fluff #suna x reader #suna x f!reader #suna x reader fluff #suna imagine #suna haikyuu #haikyuu #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x f!reader #haikyuu x female reader #haikyuu x yn #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x you #dad!suna #dad!au #dad!haikyuu #dad!hq

[earthtooz]

OMG IM FROTHING AT THE MOUTH FOR FAKE PT.2 I LOVED PT 1 SM I LOVE YOU SM EHEHEH

𝐅𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 ─ when the reader receives hate ! pt 1

includes: reo mikage, michael kaiser, isagi yoichi

warnings: gn!reader, they/them prns in kaiser + isagi, 2k+ wc for reo, 1.6k for kaiser and 1k for isagi, ooc!characters, borderline panic attack in reo's, hate and negative comments, happy endings for all, let me know if i'm missing any warnings, bad wriitng LOL

a/n: ask and u shall receive ! bro why is the cover image so low quality i can't be assed to fix it - ANYWAYS ENJOY ANON !!!

MIKAGE REO:

if there’s one thing reo is used to, it’s the amount of eyes constantly surveying his every move. there is not one aspect of his life that hasn’t been intruded by the amount of aristocratic families wondering how he’s doing. reo’s quite fed up with it himself. 

but of course, if there’s one thing dating reo mikage entails, it’s having those same eyes scrutinising your every move even harder- a fact you accepted before he asked you to be his. a fact you were starting to get used to.

despite all the glamourised smiles and ambiguous compliments of your relationship, there will always be some who aren’t afraid to voice their opinions.

which, is how you got stuck talking to some ceo’s daughter at a gala you were attending as reo’s plus one. 

“i’m not trying to be mean or anything, just honest,” she says with a particular slice of her hands, flaunting her expensive nails and jewellery. “but i don’t think you’re right for reo, and i know i am not the only one who thinks that! don’t you think it’s time you stop hogging him and y’know, return him to those who really deserve him?”

something disgusting churns within you at the way she talks of your boyfriend, as if he were some goal; a fish in a sea of hungry fishermen. the statement makes you feel violated, you can’t imagine how reo would feel being talked about like this for his entire life.

“and who might that be?” you counter, trying your best to remain calm and not give in to the storm within you.

she flares her nostrils, narrowing her perfectly painted eyes. “look around. take a good glance at the competition.”

“i won’t do that because there is no competition. reo chose me, whether you like it or not,” you firmly place your drink down on the table beside you before pointedly showing her the beautiful promise ring, encrusted with diamonds that reo himself placed on your finger. “besides, if there even was a competition in the first place, i’m afraid you’re all much too late.”

with a final sneer, she turns around with a pointed flick of her healthy, smooth hair before walking away, classy and expensive as ever.

just like everyone around you.

you, on the other hand, find it hard to breathe, and the luxurious fabric of your even more luxurious outfit is clinging to your body. before you even know it, you’re making a run for the exit, slipping past crowds of people and ignoring their looks of curiosity. 

no one would bother to look too long anyways.

you should be proud of how you managed to remain level-headed during that interaction, but you can’t help but give in to her manipulative tactics. you did take a good look of the competition and they all looked like millions upon millions of dollars. they have had their life plan sorted from the very moment of their birth, their destiny handed to them of a silver platter, and although you know to look beyond the materialism and gold, it’s hard to ignore it when you’re surrounded by marble walls and crystal chandeliers.

suddenly feeling like an imposter, you just want to hop in a cab and go home.

bolting through expansive halls with decorative arches and doors to match, you’re almost at the parking lot where the chauffeurs awaited, just a flight of stairs await your descent.

it’s not until a hand catches your wrist that you stop. 

turning around, you find no comfort in the familiarity of reo’s face which was laced with concern and worry. he’s panting, a thin layer of sweat coating his skin, and his hair was all over his face. was he chasing after you?

“y/n! where are you going?” the purple-haired asks, eyebrows furrowing even more as he notices the distressed state you’re in. he grabs both your hands, manoeuvring you to look him square in the eyes. except, it’s so difficult, you’re looking everywhere but at him. “i was calling your name the entire time, did you not hear me?” 

“reo, please, leave me alone,” you request with a shaky voice, trying to get out of his grip with no success.

“i can’t, not when you’re like this,” he protests, “deep breaths, y/n, come back to me.”

a few moments of silence pass by, allowing you to return to your senses as reo holds your hands against his heart, stroking your skin with his thumb. no longer overwhelmed and suffocated by your thoughts, it’s hard to look your boyfriend in the eye, cowering away from his gaze.

“what’s the matter?” he asks gently, pressing a hand against your cheek delicately. it’s warm. you want to melt into him.

“it’s- i, i had a really- you know what, nevermind,” you murmur, shaking your head, turning your back against reo as you pull your hands away from his. 

you miss the expression of heartbreak that appears on his pretty face. 

your cold actions don’t deter him. instead, it makes him more determined to stay by your side, chasing after you even as you descend down the stairs. since your shoes were a lot more complicated than his, the soccer player catches up to you quickly to guide you by the small of your back as he mirrors your pace.

“i want to go home,” you mutter to him once you’re on the ground, trying your best not to collapse under the gaze of so many, surrounded by butlers and chauffeurs.  

he nods with a gentle gaze. “let’s go home then.”

his kindness is not enough to shield you from the scrutiny that bears into you. “no, reo, you should stay, i’ll just catch a taxi home or something.”

he looks at you in pure astonishment, slightly taken back by your weird attitude. 

“but i don’t want to. why would i want to stay if you’re not?” asks the purple-haired. 

opting to remain silent rather than answer, you try to walk towards the main road of the highway, only to be cut off by reo shoving himself in front of you.

“and why would i let you take a cab home?” your purple-haired lover questions, placing both of his hands on his cheeks so you can finally look him in the eye. “y/n, what’s going on? something happened, didn’t it?”

taking both of his hands away from your face, you take a step away; once again missing the look of astonishment and heartbreak that appears on reo’s face. “nothing happened,” you say stubbornly, rubbing your hands against your arms.

“i don’t want to go home if you’re like this, can we please just talk for a little?” he remains behind you, getting the hint that you don’t want to be provoked or touched in any way, even if it’s killing him. the soccer player’s fingers itch with the need to embrace and trace every part of you that you’ll allow, but, for the sake of your fragile state, he doesn’t.

with a small exhale, you agree. it would be unfair for you to leave reo in the dark, continually brushing off his genuine kindness due to some chick that got in your head.

he leads you towards the gardens nearby which were dimly lit, yet still very beautiful. spring was in full season, so you could only catch glimpses of the beautiful flora that aligned the path, but there was no denying that it was still breathtaking. reo walks beside you, synchronising his footsteps with yours.

eventually, you arrive at a fountain in the middle of the garden. where you take a seat on its marble ledge, reo whispers ‘one second’ to you before running off to the bushes where the red roses were. he returns quickly, jogging back to you with a singular flower in his hands. 

“for you, my love,” he declares with a small smile, bowing with an extended hand, expecting you to take his gift.

you readily do, heart warming at his silliness whilst twirling the rose in your fingers. “thank you,” you reply, pressing a kiss to his cheek when he places his hand next to you so he can lean against the fountain for support. 

the promise ring you wear on your finger feels heavier than usual, especially when he smiles fondly at you, a lovesick expression on his face that is no doubt mirrored by you. 

but looking at him, you can’t help but recall the stinging reality that he lived in a world of glamour, decadence, and allure; only doubled by the fame that came with his life as a pro-soccer player. you love reo with your whole being, really, sometimes you fear that your feelings might be a little too much, but loving him with a materialistic barrier in between is difficult. 

the idea of letting him go than stealing him away from the world of mystique feels suddenly a lot kinder.

“reo,” you begin after a few minutes of simply being in each other’s presence. he looks at you with widened eyes and raised eyebrows, directing 100% of his attention towards you. with a deep inhale, you continue.

“do you ever think that… we’re not, meant to be?”

the silence is deafening.

“what do you mean?” he asks with a small stutter of disbelief, “of course we’re meant to be! you’re the one for me- you’re my soulmate!”

usually, when reo says that, it makes your insides gush and flutter, but now it riddles you with guilt and scepticism. “how can you be so sure?”

“y/n,” he sounds so very desperate. reo’s eyes have always been the window to his soul and seeing the way they shine with tears, your chest clenches with an unpleasant feeling. “why are you doubting my love for you?”

his hand goes to your ring finger, playing with the jewellery that you suddenly feel like you don’t deserve.

“you agreed, remember? you agreed to letting me love you forever and loving me in return. i put this ring on you because it’s always going to be you, no matter what circumstance, i’ll always choose you.” 

“but is choosing me the right decision?”

“yes, a thousand times yes, there will never be. anyone. but. you.” reo increases the amount of emphasis he puts into each word, now changing his position so that he stood in front of you, caging you with his build. “can you tell me what happened, beautiful? because something clearly did and soured my gorgeous y/n’s mood.”

the sudden onslaught of compliments, mixed with how close reo was, broke down your resolve easily, crumbling at his feet as you gave in to his gentle demands. 

“i met an unpleasant someone who told me i should give you up for people who deserve you more,” you whisper, throwing your arms around his neck, a gesture of equal affection and possessiveness. 

he hums, seemingly calm but you know better. the furrow of his eyebrows was one of scrutiny and distaste. you’re glad he’s trying to remain subtle, you’ve had enough of emotional responses for one night.

“and who might this unpleasant someone be?”

“i have no idea. she gave me a name but it went in one ear then out the other.”

pressing his face into the junction where your neck and shoulder meet, the soccer player revels at this chance to be close to you. 

“it was probably important though,” you reiterate, “and, well, might be able to benefit you a lot better than i ever can.” 

he scoffs into your skin, causing you to shiver. “no one’s name is as important as mine, my love, and no one can boost it more than what it’s already worth. if anything, those who have me gets the boost, i’m already the best.” 

his (rightfully deserved) cockiness makes you smile ever so slightly as you punch his shoulder. “are you implying i’m a gold digger?”

“well, you didn’t choose me, did you?” asks reo with a raise of his eyebrow. “i begged you to go on a date with me and you only agreed the fourth time i asked.”

the recollection makes a giggle slip past your lips- a sound reo dearly missed as he admires your beauty in the dim lighting of the gardens. he places a fleeting kiss on your neck before looking up at you. 

“of course, everyone else won’t know that and assume,” you point out before leaning in towards his lips, unable to resist him much longer.

“who cares?” he mutters against you before melting against you in a gentle kiss filled with love, reassurance, and promises. “they’re all irrelevant anyways, just a bunch of talkers with nothing to back up their words.”

“then what am i?”

“you’re my future. you’re the one that actually cares about me, more than my money or my soccer skills. remember the first day we met and you told me to get out of the way? back in college?”

“well you were blocking my path. i was running late to my class as well.”

reo chuckles, pulling away from you so there was a little distance between your faces. “never thought i’d want someone so bad just because they didn’t know who i was.”

“then show me,” you say with a little challenge in your tone. “screw the gala, take me home, reo.”

“thought you’d never ask.”

MICHAEL KAISER:

“kaiser gets it in! a miracle shot, just what you’d expect from bastard münchen’s genius striker!” the announcer exclaims as the crowd shoots up in excitement, roaring and buzzing with excitement as the members of germany’s football team all swarm around the blond, cheering and celebrating. 

kaiser participates in the hype, fist bumping his teammates before running back to position, but not without sparing a look at the screen that was displaying the match. no one misses the kiss he blows in the direction of the camera and although the stadium is filled with squeals (from boys, girls, grown ups and children alike), you know something they don’t.

right before the match, kaiser made you promise that each goal of his equated to ten kisses, a deal that you readily accepted and bumped up to twenty as a way of motivating him to take the game home.

that kiss he blew was just a way of solidifying that he was thinking of you and the wink he sent straight after was just making sure you’d keep your promise.

you can’t help but feel like the luckiest person in the world with him. 

as the match progresses, you can tell it’s going to be an easy victory, with all favours towards your lover’s team - kaiser earning another two himself. 

it’s almost scary just how effortlessly he dominates, settling the score at 3-1 for bastard münchen, once again making feats you thought were difficult look effortless. as the whistle blew announcing the end of the game, roars fill the stadium once again and you too, jump up with the crowd to cheer as loudly as you can.

repping his jersey with his name on the back, it just feels too good, especially when you bask in the afterglow of a well deserved victory.

you don’t miss the amount of glances kaiser sends your way, antsy to be able to reach you and spend some time with you because he’d rather have you congratulate him than a bunch of old, white men that just want to sponsor him. they can get in line because you’re his top priority.

you hope he sees you and the heart you make with your arms over your head just for him. 

dawdling out of the stadium always takes forever because of the amount of people that always come to see his game so when over half the people have cleared out, you make your way down to the front row, where your soccer genius boyfriend was waiting for you.

“you were incredible, my love,” you say as a greeting, wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug, one that he readily returns. you don’t really care that he was sweaty, too overwhelmed by how proud of him you were.

not that your opinions really mattered in the grand scheme of things, but kaiser considered it a great lucky charm, one he holds highly.

“as always,” he mutters, pressing a kiss against your cheek. you giggle at the sensation, smiling widely as he continues. “tell me more about how amazing i was.”

rolling your eyes at his arrogance, you decide to indulge him, just a little. “the best out there, greatest soccer player of all time, and you looked so handsome too, my main character,” you pinch his cheek. “done?”

“not at all,” keens kaiser, smiling at you like a cat.

“get your stuff first and then when we’re home, i’m all yours.”

“i’m holding you to your promise, pretty, that’s sixty kisses from you.”

with a final kiss on the forehead as farewell, you bid him goodbye and watch as he runs off to get changed, joining ness who was waiting for him by the exit. the magenta-haired soccer player waves at you from halfway across the field, a gesture you readily return before turning around to go outside.

passing by the security guards who give you a little nod of acknowledgement, you’re relieved to see that the audience that gathered tonight had gone off into their cars, ready to go home for the night. 

you’re about to go around to where the players exit so kaiser wouldn’t swarmed by a flurry of fans and reporters, until you’re stopped by a hand on the shoulder. the grip wasn’t strong, but demanding enough for you to turn around and greet whoever wanted to talk to you.

it was a pair of teenage girls. they were well-dressed and pampered, but the look they were giving you was less than friendly. somehow, you already knew where this conversation was going.

“can i help you?” you ask, flashing them a smile.

one of them eyes you up and down, judgement very clear in her eyes. you cringe a little. “are you kaiser’s partner?” she asks. 

you nod in affirmation. you hate the sleazy feeling developing in your gut, expanding due to the scrutiny of their gazes. one of the girls nudge the other one in an ‘i told you so’ manner, which is returned with a smirk that is mischievous in kind.

“do you need something from me?” you question, finally letting your astoundment show on your face. really, you just wanted to walk away from this conversation and find kaiser so you could go home.

“yeah, we’re just wondering why, y’know, that he’d choose you.” 

“excuse me?”

“like don’t get us wrong, you’re pretty and all, but we just think that you’re kinda bland for him,” one of them states as the other hums in agreement. 

the audacity. you furrow your eyebrows and stand your ground.

“okay, cool. what do you suggest i do then since you seem to be experts in my relationship.”

“break up with him, duh?”

“and let one of you date him instead?” you scoff. “fat chance.” 

“just give him up, okay? we could love kaiser more than you probably ever could, clout chaser.”

“gold digger!”

now amused more than frustrated, you bite back the laugh that bubbles in your chest. it was entertaining seeing some sixteen year old girls try to tell you that you and your boyfriend (of two years) shouldn’t be together. 

being kaiser’s partner had its downsides sometimes, and it was mostly just the hate you receive for ‘stealing’ him off the market, especially since he was so young, some fans didn’t appreciate that he wasn’t an eligible bachelor. but, you’re used to it. so long as you get to watch him in the spotlight, you don’t really mind the darkness. 

you sigh, crossing your arms over your chest. “right… are we done here? because this ‘gold digger’ wants to see their partner and congratulate him.”

“what part aren’t you understanding?” one of them asks before the other one completes the sentence. “you and kaiser just don’t look good together!”

before you could answer, a heavy arm drapes itself over your shoulders. “aww, why not?” a familiar voice asks. the two girls in front of you freeze, panic evident on their faces. “what disturbances held you up from seeing me?”

then you see and hear an overload of flashes and camera clicks. kaiser must’ve caught the paparazzi on his way out and you suddenly remember that you left him waiting, feeling slightly guilty when you turn your head to meet his gaze. you wrap your arms around his torso, happier than ever to feel his warmth against your own. 

“what happened here?” kaiser asks, a question directed at you and you only. 

“they were just telling me that they didn’t like that i was a main role in your theatre,” you say, earning an eyebrow raise from your genius boyfriend. “how should we fix that?”

he hums for a moment, meeting the widened eyes of his fans.

“kick them out,” he simply declares before turning around with you still in his arms. you two pass by paparazzi, paying them little mind except from the small smiles you send their way. 

once you’re in a clearer, quieter area, your boyfriend turns to you and embraces you properly, a gesture you return eagerly as he breathes you in.

“what a way to sour such a good victory,” murmurs kaiser, voice muffled by his jersey that you were wearing. “can’t believe i had to play your knight in shining armour instead of the king that i am.”

you pinch his neck which causes him to flinch with a little shriek. always leave it to you to dumb down his narcissism.

“i was handling it myself pretty well, y’know,” you sigh, “being the michael kaiser’s partner, i’ve grown immune to the hate i receive.”

kaiser frowns, “i didn’t think it happened often,” he whispers. “i’m sorry. how many times have you had to defend yourself without me knowing?”

“it hardly matters-”

“-but it does. i don’t like when people slander you, less when it’s for no reason other than because you’re with me. you should be marvelled at and admired, just like the masterpiece you are.”

his words cause butterflies to erupt in your stomach, a feeling you mask with a playful eye roll. 

“yes but,” you counter, reaching to cup his cheek, “being with you makes up for it.” 

he smirks, contrasting the downhearted expression he wore moments earlier. kaiser’s skill of immediately recovering from whatever kicks him down truly is something to behold and at times, envy. “of course it does,” he boasts, dramatically flipping one of his bangs. 

“besides, i’m willing to fight back if it means i get to be with you.”

before he can argue back, you grab his arm and pull him towards the entrance.

“now come on, let’s talk about it another day. i believe i owe you sixty kisses.”

“make it one hundred now for leaving me waiting for so long.”

“if you get too greedy i’ll leave you on the sidewalk.”

“you’d do that to your king? how dare you!”

ISAGI YOICHI:

“what does your mum like?” you ask a clueless isagi who simply stares at the range of perfumes that the department store had displayed.

“i have no idea,” he mutters. “i never really paid attention to what smells she used.”

“fragrances, yoichi, not smells.”

“oh. right,” the star soccer player rubs his neck awkwardly, smiling sheepishly at you after correcting his small mistake. 

he was so adorable, you wanted to pinch his cheeks.

this was the first time that isagi was buying a gift for his mother with his own money, and the first person he turned to for help was his partner: you, explaining that this had to be the best gift she’s ever received. for how much she’s done for him, and how much she’s supported his soccer career, isagi doesn’t know if he can repay it through money, but gifts are hard to deny regardless.

readily agreeing to help, you have memories of isagi’s mother welcoming you into the family with warm arms. she would tell you how beautiful you are, how excited she was to meet you, and that her son better treat you well otherwise you could always turn to her for help; a statement that made the star striker gulp.

“i mean, you could never go wrong with a few classics like carolina herrera, dior, or chanel?” you suggest, walking over to the section filled with perfumes contained in shelves, their respective brands displayed on top. isagi follows you like a lost puppy, clinging close to your side by holding your hand, squeezing it ever so often.

everything you’re saying is going in one ear and through the other, and isagi lets it show on his face. 

“don’t worry yoichi, any perfume you pick tends to be a good gift regardless, besides, we have the whole day to figure out what your mum likes,” you reason logically, just in case it might provide him with some relief in the midst of expensive, designer fragrances. 

“right,” he huffs, reaching out to read the labels of some bottles.

after a long hunt of going through the shelves, he eventually settles on a fragrance from maison francis (with a pricetag that made you gawk yet isagi was very calm about, agreeing without even thinking about it), but since the packaged version was locked in a glass cabinet, you opted to call a store attendant.

“that’s a great idea, babe, need me to go with you?” he asks, readjusting the strap of his beat-up bag, the one he’s had since high school. funny how some things don’t change for isagi, you love that about him.

you shake your head in response, telling him to ‘wait here’ before strolling off.

however, during this brief time of being without you, isagi was approached by a trio who looked like they were a family, the eldest holding a phone between his hand.

“isagi yoichi?” he asks timidly, fiddling with the phone.

the soccer player flashes a friendly smile, hoping to reduce any of the anxiety they might feel from approaching him. he was just an average, friendly guy after all. “that’s me, need anything?”

“can we take a picture?” the middle daughter asks, pressing her hands together in a pleading motion.

“of course! come on.”

the set of siblings smile eagerly before ambling to isagi’s side, who squats down so he could fit in frame. after a ‘3, 2, 1’ countdown, the photo is taken and just as the dark-haired athlete was about to stand up, a store attendant approaches.

“would you like me to take the picture?” they ask politely, gesturing to the phone.

simultaneously, everyone agrees and soon enough, the photo is taken and done, allowing isagi to high-five them before waving them off, the three of them thanking him profusely for his time.

the store attendant lingers, turning to face him with wide eyes of admiration. “wow, i didn’t think i’d ever get to meet you!” they exclaim. “i watched your match against the under-20 team like so long ago! you were amazing!”

“oh, yeah,” isagi chuckles, flustered at all this recognition, even though he’s been getting more and more of it lately, “thank you for your support.”

although he inwardly cringes at the line that he’s reused over and over again, the store helper thinks nothing of it, beaming back at him. “you’re super cute too, do you think i could get your number?”

isagi lets his shock show on his face before blurting out: “no, i have a partner already.”

the attendant’s face drops into a look of disappointment and the striker wants to run off to find you. you never should have left him alone.

“what a shame. the person that you were just with right?” isagi nods. “don’t know what you think is so special about them, i personally think you’re too good for them and should find someone better, but, it’s not up to me.”

isagi feels his vision zero in, growing red with each word. him? too good for you? what irony.

“excuse me?” he vocalised lowly- practically a growl as he eyes the employee down. “i’m giving you three seconds to get out of my sight before i-.”

he’s too preoccupied with the fury he feels to notice the way the attendant squeaks, eyes laced with fear, before scurrying off mid-sentence, fully intimidated by the striker. isagi sighs, slumping his shoulders. he’s never used that tone to anyone outside of soccer in an attempt of pre-game slander and now he just misses you.

where did you run off to?

right on queue, you materialise beside him, huffing with a pout on your face. “i couldn’t find any store attendants, that’s so weird! where’d they go?”

deciding against telling you that he just scared one away for trashing you, he simply leans his body weight on you, sighing when you embrace him tightly so he wouldn’t knock the both of you over.

“whoa, what’s gotten into you all of a sudden?” you ask, unable to hide the smile on your face from his sudden acts of affection. “everything okay, love?” 

“i want to go home,” he whispers against your shoulder. “spend some time with you.”

“what about the gift?”

“i’ll order it online. it can arrive in time.”

relenting, you pluck him off you with great effort. “if you’re sure then, okay, let’s go home.”

“we can get takeout from your favourite on the way home.”

“what’s the occasion?”

“thought i needed to show you how much i appreciate you.”

#oh everyone is SO ooc but meh #blue lock #blue lock x reader #blue lock drabble #isagi yoichi x reader #isagi x reader #kaiser x reader #isagi fluff #yoichi isagi x reader #michael kaiser x reader #kaiser michael x reader #reo x reader #reo mikage x reader #mikage reo x reader #reo drabble #reo fluff #kaiser fluff #kaiser drabble #isagi drabble

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 18

part 1 | part 17 | ao3

“I’m sorry I’m sorry don’t hate me I’m sorry, did it work? Don’t hate me. Did it work?”

“Dustin,” Steve barks. Dustin looks up, eyes bright; he's hugging Steve so hard it’s like he’s trying to fuse his face to Steve’s rib cage through his shirt. Steve scruffs him on the top of the head, rubbing his knuckles over his dumb baseball cap in a way he hopes is reassuring, and wheezes, “Can’t breathe, bud.” 

The kid takes a hesitant step back, fists still balled in the fabric of Steve’s shirt like he might run away. Mike’s cowering behind him, hunched in on himself and nervously eyeing up the nail bat.

“So you’re... not mad?” Dustin asks.

“Oh, I’m fucking pissed,” Steve smiles sarcastically. “Hope you used that Butterscotch wisely, dude, because it’s the only one you’re getting for the rest of the year. Also, you can kiss your full candy bar trick-or-treating plans goodbye.”

“What? No!” Mike starts to whine, but immediately shuts his mouth when Steve glares at him. Then Eddie swoops in behind them, clapping a hand on both kids’ shoulders and nearly startling Mike out of his skin.

“And, uh, for obvious reasons,” he says in an acidic sing-song, “you’re both banned from Hellfire for the next month.”

“WHAT?” 

Oh, this guy’s good.

“Eddie, what the fuck?!” Mike pleads. “We’re just about to get to the manor’s secret passage!” 

“Yes, and what a shame that your paladin triggered a hidden trap and got stuck in a faulty portal for the next four sessions.” 

“Oh, my god! This is— this is—!” 

“Payback?” Eddie sneers.

Dustin’s eyes are darting rapid fire between the two of them, and he elbows Mike in the ribs and hisses, “Dude, shut up before he kills us both for good!” 

“Oh, my god,” Mike says again, face twisting through all five stages of grief. 

“Oh, also,” Steve adds for his own amusement as he heads toward the stairs, “you two can clean all this camping shit up.” 

—

“You play a good game of Punish the Pipsqueaks,” Steve grins, walking side by side with Eddie. "That D&D ban? Ouch. Keep that up and the moms will start recruiting you for babysitting duty."

“Oh, boy!” Eddie smirks. “My dream finally realized.”

They get back to their cars, and Steve shivers a little, the cold finally getting to him now that he doesn’t have the fight or flight to keep him warm. He unlocks the bimmer and slides into the front seat; cranks up the heat, his hands impatiently hovering in front of the vents. 

Eddie catches the car door. “You’re really not going to punish them more?" he asks, leaning in, head cocked to the side. "I mean, no trick-or-treating sucks and all, but. Seems a little lenient, doesn’t it?” 

“Yeah, it does,” Steve agrees with a short laugh, “but see, the thing is, those two dumbasses are assuming that revenge is a dish best served cold, when actually?" He points at the house. "It’s a dish best served by Claudia Henderson.”

Eddie’s brows lift in question.

“I’m gonna call her tomorrow morning and say I caught them smoking at the bus stop.” 

“Jesus!" Eddie laughs. "That’s diabolical.” 

“And then I’m gonna suggest they do community service at the retirement home on Halloween instead of trick-or-treating, because Dustin’s weirdly afraid of old people.” 

Eddie's laugh turns to a cackle, all his teeth on display, and the car bounces on its wheels as he leans his weight against the door. “Oh, man," he exhales, wiping the corners of his eyes. "Remind me not to get on your bad side.” 

“Pretty sure we’ve only ever been on each other’s bad sides.” Steve’s joking, but Eddie’s smile slips a little, and Steve wants to take it back. Pluck the words from the fog of chilled breath hanging between them; tell him that they're not anymore, that they don't have to be again.

But then Eddie catches the bass line coming from Steve’s speakers and the grin comes back full force. 

“Hold the fuck on," he beams, nodding his head to the beat and hum-mumbling the melody as the words come back to him.

Following the footsteps of a red dawn dance, we are entranced. 

“Spellbound,” he sings, shaking his head in delighted disbelief. “I’m sorry, does Steve Harrington have a Siouxsie tape in his car?”

Steve’s face goes red. Fucking Robin. “If you’re about to talk shit about the music, I— I mean, I’m just the chauffeur, man, I don’t—”

“Relax. It’s not that, I just…” He raps his knuckles against the roof. Gives Steve a once over; smiles softly at whatever he sees.

“What?” Steve asks. Kinda likes how he has to crane his neck to look up at him.

“Nothing," Eddie murmurs, low and deep. "You’re just full of surprises, aren't you?"

Steve shivers again.

It seems to snap Eddie out of... whatever that was. “My bad, man,” he says, his voice back to normal volume. He apologizes for letting in the cold air and slips Steve’s jacket off, handing it back to him and shutting the door with a soft click, then he throws out a parting salute and skips off to his van.

Steve just sits there for a moment, feeling syrupy and dumb. Like there's whiskey in his chest, a full flask of it sloshing around behind his ribs.

His jacket smells like Eddie. Siouxsie croons in his good ear.

Spellbound, spellbound, oh-oh-oh.  

"Jesus Christ," he mutters as he cuts the music off. He drives home in silence, the song still ringing in his ears.

—

part 19

first half of tag list below the cut comment if you want me to add you to the next one

@heartsong18 @hellion-child @hiimlevi @hotluncheddie @jackiemonroe5512 @jaytriesstuff @littlebluejane @lololol-1234 @marklee-blackmore @melonmochi @messrs-weasley @mrsjellymunson @mugloversonly @nburkhardt @nerdyglassescheeseychick @noodle-shenaniganery @notsopersonalcharlie @novelnovella @nuggies4life @pending-dope-username @perseus-notjackson @ppunkpuppyy @questionablequeeries @remosdeerica @runninriot @sadcanadianwinter @shamelesspatrolshepherdcowboy @silver-snaffles @singmeyoursimpsong @slowandsteddie @slutforcoffein @solalasoforth @spookednsaucy @steddieas-shegoes @steddie-island @stevesbipanic @steves-strapcollection @taleah-bonnick @teatimeeverybody @th30ra3k3n @thealwithnoname @thespaceantwhowrites @thestarslittleking @thesuninyaface @trensu @violetsteve @wormdebut @yourmom-isgay @zoeweee @zombiecreatures

#trailer park steve au #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie fic #st fic #my writing #my fic #robin WILL make a sonic witch girly out of steve

[actually-safer-to-kiss]

Making a Move

Summary: Spencer's been seeing someone new, and the last thing he wants is to mess this up

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Fluff

Word count: 1.8k

Hotch called a meeting over the phone, and the team is waiting for him and Rossi at the Roundtable. In the meantime, everyone else has made their stops at the coffee machine, Spencer included. He was having his second cup (the first one was from his apartment), but he didn’t need the team to know that. Although not as romantic as expected, his late night was worth the extra yawns and blurred vision. He’d rather the team not know about that too.

“What’s got you so tired, kid?”

Too late.

Morgan fiddles with a pen between his fingers. As he asks, his eyebrow arches; he’s ready for an answer. His question brings everyone’s eyes to him.

“Nothing,” Spencer says.

“Nothing?” He knows that’s not it. The pact to not profile each other basically ended before it started. “Cause this is the third time in the past two weeks you’ve come in here yawning like every ten seconds.”

“It’s nothing. Maybe I need more coffee.”

Garcia pokes her head up from behind her laptop. “You never have more than one cup of coffee at the office unless you really need it.” She’s still typing while looking at him. “You don’t even suggest it. Until now.” Typing halts, and Spencer sees the realization in her eyes. He knows he can’t stop the tide from coming. “Ooo, what’s his name?”

“It’s not a guy.” Spencer sips his coffee, sugar granules sliding over his tongue as he swallows.

“So it’s a girl.” Prentiss butts in with a smirk.

Spencer rubs his hand on his forehead.

“It is!” Garcia unleashes a squeal. “Okay, what’s her name?” Her magenta nails are out like a cat exposing its claws, and Spencer knows she’s prepared to start a free background check.

“He’s not going to tell us,” Prentiss says.

“What about her job? What does she do?”

A kindergarten teacher. “Not saying that either,” Spencer replies.

“Well, has anything happened between you two?” Morgan joins back in.

Just hello and goodbye hugs.

“Guys,” J.J. calls. She’s standing by the projector, remote in hand. “It’s Spence’s business. He’ll tell us when he wants to. Okay?” She uses her mom voice, and Spencer wouldn’t be surprised if the following words out of her mouth were, “If I hear another word about this, you’re all grounded.” It’s comforting, even though he knew she’d have his back.

Sighs of disappointment and protest around the table were not subtle, but they were as close to a verbal “okay” as she was getting. J.J. accepts it anyway and eventually takes a seat. Garcia leans over and asks about Hotch and Rossi, likely regarding where they could be. Spencer wonders the same thing; so they can get started.

And because Morgan keeps staring at him. He’s eager for Spencer to spill. He even leans over. “Seriously, kid, nothing?”

“I’m not afraid to tattle,” Spencer whispers back. He finds his book, The Life of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. He read it a couple days ago, yet opened a page and busied himself with the paperback. Morgan’s eyes are still staring. He’s not letting this go, even if this briefing led to the jet. Spencer makes the mistake of looking back at him for a moment, and he has no choice. He turned the page of his book and mumbled, “I want something to happen, though.” He bites his lips closed when the words finally leave them.

Spencer’s opened the door, welcoming Morgan and his sleazy smile. Something he — hell — that they’ve all seen and grown too familiar with at bars and clubs. “Alright, that’s what I like to hear.” He shakes Spencer’s bony shoulder. “My man.”

Spencer can’t help but grin, not in response, but because of last night. He was worried you’d consider him cheap or creepy for choosing to watch a movie at his apartment instead of the theater. He was hoping to make a move. Spencer thought you looked so cozy in your polka-dot sweater; he wished he could reach out and touch the material. It looked so soft. But all the mistakes he made might’ve ruined the chance for that.

“What’d you do?” Morgan whispers.

“I sat too far away at first. I tried moving closer but… I didn’t want to come off as weird. Then I excused myself to get some water, but then it still didn’t feel right and —”

“So you chickened out?”

“I didn’t chicken out.”

He chickened out.

“Okay, well, it’s good you’re not all over her. You’re giving her space and showing her respect. But Reid,” He ruffles his hair. Spencer smiles, and it’s the only thing that keeps J.J. from giving a lecture. “You’ve been on three dates. She likes you, man. She’s probably waiting.”

“But what if she —”

“She does. And you need to go in knowing that and display some confidence. When are you seeing her again?”

“Tonight. We’re getting ice cream.” Spencer tries to suppress his lips curling. It doesn’t work.

“See. Now let me give you some pointers.”

It’s been a while since Spencer’s built such a natural rapport with someone, especially someone in a field furthest away from the grim glimpses of humanity he sees.

He surprised you with a visit during your lunch last week. The vibrant colors in your wardrobe match your classroom. The walls covered in handmade decorations and class-made crafts are a refreshing difference from the dark basements and fluorescent-lit interrogation rooms. The light in your eyes when discussing your students is something Spencer doesn’t get to see often, and he didn’t want to lose it by moving too fast.

Displaying confidence was something that came naturally to Morgan. “Displaying” didn’t feel honest, Spencer thought,  more like a front. Then again, that’s what all displays really were. Spencer’s only known how to be himself. Morgan does have a point, though. He’s already been on three dates. So being himself has worked so far. But he’s sure he needs a little more.

On the walk to the agreed-upon spot, Spencer grips the strap of his satchel as he trudges uphill. It helps him burn off the nervous energy as he gets closer. But when he sees you sitting at one of the outdoor tables, he’s reminded again why he should be. You’re wearing a flowy yellow dress and white tennis shoes. The one difference from last night is the ends of your hair, brunette roots leading to dark pink ends.

You stand up and start walking toward him, beaming already. “Hey!” Your arms are already out, and you hug. Spencer notes you smell like coconut.

“Hey, you,” He tries to make it sound natural. His hand lingers at your waist for a second. “Your hair,” That same hand touches the ends. “It’s pretty.” He smiles, taking in your individuality. He thinks about how much you and Garcia would get along.

“Thank you,” your brightness radiates as you giggle. “It’s the most I can get away with at school, so I figured I might as well push the limits while I can. Plus, the kids love it.”

Spencer’s brain immediately goes to statistics about school dress codes and how they likely change the following year. He holds back. Morgan’s taught him that sharing statistics can apparently kill the mood. He even reminded him before Spencer left (early). “I’m sure they do.”

Your eyebrows quirk. “You okay?”

“Yeah, doll, I’m fine.” He tries again, but it’s taking everything for him not to cringe in front of you.

“No, you’re acting weird.” You cross your arms.

“Am I?” Spencer’s chest tightens.

“Oh yeah.” You snicker. “What’s up? Tell me about it.”

Spencer doesn’t exactly know how to say, “I really like you but I’m terrified of messing this up so I’m attempting to put on a terrible impression of a macho man because I want to kiss you and I feel like being myself isn’t going to get me anywhere” in a form that’s going to sound coherent and not like a crazy ramble that ends in you running away. So he doesn’t say it at all.

“Spencer,” You reach out to hold his hand. “You can tell me.”

“I…” He feels like he’ll stumble over his words before he gets a sentence out. He looks at you, and your grip tightens a little. He returns the gesture. “I don’t want to mess this up.”

“Mess what up exactly?”

“Well, this.” He moves his hand where his thumb is on top. “I like you a lot.”

“Oh, well, I like you too!” You say. “We’re on the same page there. So how could you mess this up?”

“Because I don’t know how to make the first move. I don’t want to push you.” The wind blows, and both of you push hair out of your faces, and Spencer tries not to lose his thoughts. “I even let one of my coworkers give me pointers on how to be… smoother.”

You try hard not to laugh, but it slips out, and the insecurity on Spencer’s face spreads. “Is this the one you told me about? Dirk Morgan?”

“Derek Morgan. But, yeah, him.”

“Okay, Doctor,” You step closer, and now both your hands lead up to his biceps. Spencer cautiously moves his hands to your waist. He’s hesitant about public displays of affection, but you started it, and he won’t be the one to end it so soon.  “I’m going to bring you into my field for a minute. I’m assigning you a pop quiz.”

Spencer’s mouth quirks a little, wondering where this is going.

“I have no doubt you’ll ace it.”

“I’m usually good at acing things. Exams, tests, quizzes.”

“Good. It’s one question: am I dating Derek Morgan?” Your thumbs glided back and forth against his cardigan.

“Are we dating?”

“We’ve been on dates. Therefore: dating.”

“Then, no, you are not dating Derek Morgan.”

“Congratulations, Dr. Reid, you got a 100.” You push yourself up on your toes to kiss him gently. You both pause for a moment. His hands trail to your back as yours glide to hang on his neck. His breath is extra minty for six in the evening, and it made you realize that was the move he wanted to make. “Feel better? Now that that’s out of the way?”

Spencer leans in to kiss you again. His response is clear when he pulls you in to make it deeper, but still innocent. When you open your eyes, you can see the weight that’s been lifted, a weight you lifted.

“Next time you feel like making a move, you’re more than welcome to go for it. Okay? You have my permission to go for it.”

“What if I don’t know your boundaries?”

“Just ask.” You put your feet flat on the ground, but other than that, neither of you moves or shifts eye contact. “Spencer, I like you the way you are. You don’t need some sort of smooth rhetoric to make me fall further for you.”

Spencer, once again, fails to hide the smirk as it grows. “You’ve… fallen for me?”

“Is that okay?”

“Yeah.” He says quickly. “It’s more than okay.”

Thank you for all the love from the last fic. I'm glad so many of you liked it 🥹 For anyone curious, I don't have a schedule. I just write and upload when I have something. I'm focusing on getting back into writing so feel free to send oneshot ideas if you have any. Thanks again 🩵

“Good. Now let’s get ice cream.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid comfort #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid/reader #spencer reid/you #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid fandom #spencer reid one shot #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds self insert #criminal minds blurb #spencer reid blurb

[helihi]

This art is based on a sneak peek from For Want of a Nail, an as yet unposted fic by the commissioner, @notoftheskaal.

Yang was vaguely aware of the door creaking open, but couldn’t bring herself to care with the warm weight of Blake on top of her, hands in her hair, lips on hers, tongue—

“Excuse me?! On my bed?! I know Yang’s precarious bunk would probably collapse under both of you, but what’s wrong with defiling your own bed, Blake? Off! Now!”

They broke the kiss at the sound of Weiss’s outraged screech. Yang looked to where Weiss stood pointing at them, face flushed almost tomato red and eyes narrowed. She looked rather ridiculous, and even more so seen upside down through Yang’s eyes, still flat on her back under Blake. Ruby stood behind Weiss, her eyes covered with a hand.

Yang blinked as Weiss’s words sunk in. About them being on her bed. But they weren’t? “Your—? But—” Yang looked around and her words stumbled to a halt. Books didn’t support the bunk overhead. Ropes did.

Oh. This wasn’t Blake’s bed. Come to think of it, they’d both been a bit distracted when Blake backed her towards the bunks, liplocked.

Weiss swatted them with her schoolwork binder. “Get off!”

They scrambled up.

“Sorry.” Yang rubbed at the back of her neck. It felt as hot as her own face. “Uh, if it helps, we didn’t defile it.”

“That’s a matter of opinion!” Weiss’s words hissed between clenched teeth.

“Clothes stayed on! We just kissed, nothing more.” Yang didn’t dare look at Blake. She was afraid she’d burst out laughing if she met Blake’s eyes, and that might be fatal even when Weiss didn’t have Myrtenaster to hand.

“With. Tongue!” Weiss jabbed Yang with an accusatory finger with each word. “That was no innocent kiss!”

“Not listening,” Ruby muttered, covering her ears. “Not listening. Nope. Not hearing anything mentally scarring.”

“Think of the children! Ruby had to see that too!”

“Uh, I’m not a child, and I clapped a hand over my eyes before I saw that.”

“Shut up, you said you weren’t listening!” Weiss elbowed Ruby.

“Ow, Yang’s right, you sharpen those!”

“Do not tell me your sister’s right about anything when she’s been an indecent trespasser!”

“It was an honest mistake, and we’re very sorry, it won’t happen again,” Blake said, voice smooth as her skin.

Weiss levelled her accusing finger at Blake. “You were smirking when you saw me, Blake Belladonna!”

“I was smiling. Anyone would smile after a kiss like that.”

“Smiling? That was no innocent smile. You looked like—” Weiss cut herself off, eyes flicking upwards, to the level of Blake’s uncovered cat ears. Weiss abruptly looked rather uncomfortable, as if she’d been about to say something she thought inappropriate to use for a cat faunus.

‘Like the cat that got the cream, huh? Or something like it.’ Yang risked a glance at Blake. There was no smirk on her face now, just her usual inscrutable mask. At least until she met Yang’s eyes and smiled at her.

Yang’s blush deepened and her heart skipped a beat. ‘You’ve got it bad, Xiao Long. Doomed, that’s what you are.’

#Bumbleby #yang xiao long #blake belladona #weiss schee #ruby rose #RWBY #Commission #commissions #My Art

[lurkingshan]

Last Twilight Episode 12

A month ago, I never could have predicted that I’d be sitting here trying to assemble some thoughts to explain how on earth this show went so badly off the rails. I am truly taken aback by where this story landed, and I advise anyone who wants to think of it fondly to just pretend it ended at episode 9, and even skip the finale if you haven’t watched yet. Before I get into it, let me just start with a word of praise for the cast, who did a great job with their performances and kept this show afloat when the writing fell apart. And boy, did it fall apart.

In my view, this narrative had three main threads it was addressing: 1) Day’s journey to accepting his disability; 2) unresolved family trauma; and 3) Mhok and Day’s romance. And in the end, it failed on all three of them. I am going to dig into this and I am not feeling particularly nice, so if this is going to hurt your feelings I suggest you stop reading now. 

Day’s Journey

Just…wow. We have been afraid of this turn the entire time and trying to hold out hope that the show would not go there, but here we are. I started laughing out loud when we got to the end of part 3 and Mhon’s phone went off with an alert for a new eye donor, and then just stared incredulously at my screen as we time skipped AGAIN to a Day whose vision had been restored for years (last week I joked to @bengiyo and @waitmyturtles that once a drama starts using time skips it becomes addictive and they never stop, and—welp!). What was this entire show for? Why did we spend twelve episodes with Day grieving his vision loss, learning how to cope, and finally accepting his blindness only to completely undercut it at the end? The first part of the finale was so much about how he was thriving—finding a new career for himself and becoming self-sufficient and growing so much on his own—only to give us an ending that implied he could not actually have his happily ever after without his vision restored. 

And this is in fact the message they sent by coupling the return of his vision with the return of he and Mhok’s relationship, and giving us a happy ending rooted in his contentment at having his sight back. They even went back to the Last Twilight mountain to completely tarnish the thematic resonance of the original scene. Calling back to the beautiful memory of Day “seeing” the sunset and experiencing “a moment so good that you feel like you can live there forever” as he accepted his disability with this scene of him seeing the real sunset with his restored vision was so hurtful to me that I actually got angry. Day didn’t need his vision back to get a happy ending, and I absolutely hate what this communicates about disabled people’s capacity to live happy and fulfilling lives. This show has created many writing sins but this is the most unforgivable to me.

Family Trauma

The show began dropping the ball on this one a few weeks ago, but this finale put the nail in the coffin. We spent most of this episode at Porjai and Night’s wedding, an event that might have felt meaningful if the show had let us see any of their romance. I’m grateful to Mark Pakin and Namtan Tipnaree for their beauty and charisma because it’s the only thing that made me care about those scenes at all. Rather than actually being about them, however, this wedding was used primarily as a clunky vehicle to deliver heavy-handed messages about “second chances” to encourage Day to get back together with Mhok (more on that in the next section). 

I did enjoy the brief nods in this episode to the brothers continuing to have newfound harmony in their relationship, but where the show really lost me was in their attempt to bring Night and Day’s dad back into the mix and imply some sort of resolution between him and Mhon. Mhon, a woman whose perspective on their split we never actually saw, whose motivation for her choices and behavior toward her sons were completely elided by the narrative, who was forgiven and made peace with offscreen during a time skip. I was never given the chance to understand her or what this relationship meant to her in the first place, so why would I care about these scenes with her making her peace with this man? I continue to be so confused about where this show chose to spend its time, and why someone with Aof’s track record on developing strong and narratively important familial relationships dropped the ball so much with her. 

The Romance

Okay, let’s get into it, and remember what I said about not reading if this is going to hurt your feelings! My criteria for considering a romance successful is I have to believe the relationship is mutual, beneficial to both of the pair, and that the couple is prepared to weather future challenges. Last Twilight’s romance fails on all three fronts, and it all comes down to the total imbalance in the relationship that persisted right through the final scenes.

This entire narrative has been Mhok bending to Day’s will, giving Day what he needs, forgiving him for everything, and letting him make all the decisions about the relationship, and the finale was regrettably more of the same. In episode 11, Mhok made a mistake when he lied to Day about turning down the job in Hawaii. But he made that mistake out of grief and fear, and Day didn’t care—he unfeelingly rejected him and his pain and ended their relationship without a second thought. That was potentially forgivable as a momentary lapse borne out of instinctual hurt, and could have been repairable had Day reconsidered soon after and extended Mhok some grace. But in this episode, we find out Day blocked Mhok and refused to communicate with him again after that night, and has left Mhok completely in the cold for three years after he failed to be perfect one (1) time.

And this episode? Was on Day’s side in this conflict. Mhok is the one to return and start pursuing Day again. Mhok is the one to broach the topic of their breakup. Mhok is the one to thank Day for breaking his heart and tell him he did nothing wrong (y’all, I almost threw something at the screen). Mhok’s grief and trauma go completely unaddressed in this finale until they try to play the Rung card for one last moment of sentiment. Day cries to his mother about how he just doesn’t know if he can forgive Mhok. And in the end, Mhok makes the grand gesture, missing his flight to go to Day and stay in Thailand with him despite the successful life he has built in Hawaii.

The cognitive dissonance I felt watching this play out was extreme. I rarely see a writer misunderstand their own characters and relationship conflict so thoroughly. In order to believe in this romance we needed to see Day finally show some empathy for Mhok, take responsibility for his own mistakes, and be the one to make an effort this time. We needed to believe that Day has the capacity to be a supportive partner to Mhok even when he’s struggling. But Day didn’t demonstrate any of that, and so I simply don’t believe in this relationship. I don’t believe Mhok can trust Day not to abandon him again when some other major life event intervenes and Mhok is less than perfect. And that’s a shame, because the show really almost had something here with these two. 

And that’s all I got. What a disappointment this show turned out to be. If you need me, I will just be over here in my little corner imagining the Night and Porjai romcom that we never got and pretending the rest of this show ended several weeks ago.

#last twilight #last twilight the series #thai bl #shan shouts into the void

[autisticlancemcclain]

“No.”

Lance groans loudly, forgoing smacking his face in his hands and going straight for banging his head repeatedly against the elevator doors, which Keith thinks is a touch dramatic. But regardless he crosses his arms over his chest and stubbornly refuses to budge from his position.

“Keith. For the love of God.”

“God is dead and I’m not climbing out of a goddamn ten thousand foot elevator hatch with you.”

Keith admittedly puts a tad too much emphasis on the ‘with you’ part of the sentence. It’s obvious in the way Lance stops and lifts his head up and glares at Keith so icily he doesn’t need to squint to make out Lance’s expression in the low emergency lights; his eyes practically burn a hole through Keith’s forehead. Keith winces but doesn’t say anything.

“You have gone toe to toe with a goddamn zombie dictator,” Lance grinds out, “but you’re too much of a pussy to climb an elevator shaft?”

Keith stiffens. “I’m not — shut up!”

Smirking, now, visibly delighted that he’s managed to press Keith’s buttons (God Keith wants to punch him), Lance leans against the elevator wall, hip cocked, feigning nonchalance.

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” he says, inspecting his nails like it doesn’t matter. “I just never would have thought that the best pilot out of the Garrison and literal pilot of the Red Lion is, you know, a chicken.”

Keith clenches his fists. Lance is frustrated and bored and pushing Keith’s buttons because there’s fuck else to do. He is. Keith knows this.

But he is so goddamn good at it.

“I’m not a fucking chicken, Cargo Pilot.”

‘Cargo Pilot’ is usually a hole-in-one insult that’s guaranteed to make Lance bristle, sure to make him bare his teeth and go bright red and generally lose his absolute shit. Keith is even sparing in his use of the term, careful not to let it lose its potency.

But because the universe hates him and also Lance is the most annoying motherfucker alive, his smirk only widens, and he flexes his fingers, still fucking casual, still not even bothering to look up in Keith’s direction.

I hate you, Keith thinks, with feeling.

“Sure,” Lance says, without. He shrugs. “Prove it.”

For a second Keith thinks he’s so mad that he might. But then he imagines it fully, pictures his bare back pressed against Lance’s, feet planted on the slippery castle walls, lights probably still out, struggling to put one foot in front of the other and drag each other upright. He thinks of how much effort that would take and how easily he would start to sweat, how easily every shift of their muscles would loosen the friction-borne grip between them, how easily his foot could slip. He thinks of how long a ten thousand foot drop would take, how long he would have to accept that he’s going to die before he splats on the pristine floor.

His stomach turns. His face goes green.

Lance’s jaw drops.

“Oh my God, you’re afraid of heights!”

“I am not!” Keith snaps, because he isn’t, he just has a fucking brain. “It’s just — it’s ten thousand fucking feet, Lance!”

“A pilot!” Lance screeches. “A pilot afraid of heights!”

“You are so goddamn extra!” Keith cries.

Lance makes more vague screeching noises. He gestures furiously at Keith, then pauses, then makes a sound in the back of his throat akin to a loudly dying whale, then gestures back at Keith, then at the ceiling, then at the elevator as a whole. Then he lets out one loud, long, final yell, completely wordless and directed at what Keith can only assume is the heavens, and stops, closes his eyes, breathes deeply, and very calmly crawls onto the floor, belly first, and lays perfectly flat with his face pressed to the tiles.

“I hate it here,” he says serenely. He pauses for a minute, thoughtful. “Also, I hate you.”

“Ditto,” Keith mutters, finally giving up and joining him on the floor. He tips his head back until it thumps on the elevator wall and sighs, loud and long, wondering vaguely if this is punishment for the hundreds of times he mocked Shiro for his fear of squirrels. He truly thinks it might be.

All he wanted was twenty goddamn minutes in the pool. That’s all. He’d have even taken ten. He just wanted to swim a few laps, maybe float for a bit, and pretend he was in a lake somewhere without pressing problems such as saving the universe and the fate of every single soul in it.

Eight minutes, really. Seven.

The lights flicker back on. Lance lifts his head, hopeful, then stretches out one ridiculously long leg (seriously what is the deal with that he’s basically a giraffe, it’s too much, Keith should talk to someone about it because since when were legs allowed to be that — long and shapely, or whatever, it’s weird) and presses the closest button with his toe.

It does nothing. Lance stares at it for a few minutes, as if attempting to bring the elevator alive by manifestation alone, but no life is forthcoming. Lance huffs sadly and returns his face to the floor.

“That’s really disgusting,” Keith says, although he has his fair share of Floor Time. “People walk on this floor all the time.”

Lance doesn’t bother looking up, groaning loudly for several minutes before simply rolling away to the opposite side of the elevator.

“Shut up,” he says finally, after so long Keith almost forgets his original comment. “You just —”

Abruptly he straightens up, pulling the towel off his neck and crawling forward to place it in the middle of the elevator. Keith rolls his eyes so hard it actually hurts, a little.

“You and your commentary stay on the loser stinky mullet half of the elevator,” Lance says. “The pretty half that’s not infected with your rancid vibes belongs to me.”

“Were you trained to be this annoying?” Keith ponders, half out of genuine curiosity. “Like, do you do this on purpose?”

“Ignoring you now,” Lance says primly.

Keith scowls. He’s not — Keith isn’t the one who’s too irritating to be around without going insane.

“I’m ignoring you, asshole.”

Lance doesn’t respond. Keith closes one eye and holds up his thumb and forefinger to the approximate shape of Lance’s face, pretending he’s squishing his head. It brings him great peace.

After a while, though, he starts to get restless. His legs starts bouncing, up and down so fast it’s blurry, and then his fingers start to tap, but the feeling of rustling under his skin only gets worse, spinning faster and faster and coil tightening more and more in his stomach until he just — implodes, really, until his brain goes boom and says if you don’t get moving right this second, and Keith says in response to it, believe me I’m on it. He’s scrambling to his feet before he has the conscious thought to do so, hands moving before he tells them to and pushing him upright, bare feet padding rapidly on the floor as he paces, three steps until he hits the wall then pivot then three steps then pivot then three steps again. Over and over and over. His fingers stop tapping but his shoulders get twitchy; itchy under his skin and on it, sweaty because there’s no airflow and this goddamn elevator is sweltering. Or he’s just hot. He usually runs hot. He’s not sure and he doesn’t care to know, because the pool would have been refreshing but instead he’s stuck in a ten by ten by ten cube stuck somewhere on a ten thousand foot tube and to his right his rival-slash-teammate keeps huffing and rubbing his hands on his arms and muttering to himself.

“Could you maybe cut that out,” Keith snaps, which is entirely unfair because his pacing isn’t quiet, but Keith is three seconds away from attempting to climb the walls and it’s Lance, anyway, when are they not arguing, so it doesn’t matter.

Maybe when you’re having a crisis-brought bonding moment, says a voice in his brain. Stuck elevators are kind of a crisis.

Shut up or I’m going to give myself a concussion, Keith responds to it.

“Not my fault it’s goddamn freezing in here,” Lance snaps.

Keith pauses. He looks down at Lance. He frowns.

“Your lips are blue,” he observes, bewildered.

“Eat shit,” Lance responds, predictably. He’s fucking — he’s shivering.

Keith is made astutely aware of the cooling sweat on his back and grimaces.

“Lance,” he says slowly, “it is not cold in here.”

Lance blows out a breath like the goddamn weight of the world is on his shoulders. He flicks his eyes up to meet Keith’s, who is standing behind his head and leaning down, and somehow manages to seem like the more put-together person between them, which is bonkers.

“I’m anaemic, stupid.”

Keith blinks. Suddenly the air feels very solemn, and he shifts uncomfortably, unsure of what to say.

“I didn’t know you had an eating disorder,” he manages eventually.

Lance’s faces scrunches up in confusion for seven whole seconds before it clears, and he looks at Keith like he is the dumbest man alive and then bursts out laughing.

“That’s — anorexic, you idiot! I don’t have enough blood!”

“Oh,” Keith says, face heating. He scowls as Lance continues to laugh way harder than what was called for, clutching his stomach with tears rolling down his face. He pokes Lance aggressively with his toe, and by that he means his kicks him. “Will you stop — it’s not that funny, dickhead!”

“It really is,” Lance wheezes.

Keith scowls harder. His face is as red as his shorts and the flush is starting to spread down his chest and Lance notices and it only makes him laugh more, because he’s a shithead of the worst kind. “I hope you choke.”

Keith flicks his towel over his head and yanks, embarrassed, stomping to the other side of the elevator as if that will somehow make Lance shut up faster. It doesn’t, obviously, and he hears Lance laugh for several minutes until he finally winds down to giggling, then eventually nothing.

Keith harrumphs quietly to himself. He resolves to sticking in his corner like he should have from the very beginning, until the elevator starts moving again or someone on the team comes to save them. At this point he’s so done he wouldn’t even care if it was Shiro, wouldn’t even care if Shiro gloated about it for eternity (Keith saved his ass from government experimentation, anyway, so he wins by default for the rest of time). He faces his corner and pulls his knees to his chest and starts picking at a loose thread in the seam of his shorts to amuse himself.

Several minutes later, he hears Lance shifting. He ignores it. He pulls at the thread until it comes loose, then busies himself with tying the thread into the most complicated and random knot he can.

A few more minutes later, and there’s the sound of fabric rustling and draping, then quiet cursing. Keith untangles and retangles his knot for the fourth time.

After what must be a half hour, Keith hears the sound of teeth chattering.

He sighs. He looks forlornly at his knot.

“I could just ignore him,” he mutters to himself. “He probably won’t die.”

He thinks of how short Lance’s shorts are. He pinches his own towel in his fingertips, so thin he can practically feel his fingerprints. He remembers blue lips and a clenched jaw and raised gooseflesh.

He sighs loudly, more of a groan, and flicks his ball of thread away.

It takes Lance a few seconds to respond to Keith looming over him, which is worrying. But eventually he cracks open one brown eye and flares up at Keith.

“What,” he mutters. His teeth are chattering so bad it sounds like two words.

“You’re freezing,” Keith says. His voice is softer than he expected it to be.

Lance huffs, closing his eye again and curling further into himself. “No shit.”

Keith frowns. “I’m not.”

“Well, rub it in, why dontcha.”

Keith frowns. “You’re not understanding.”

Lance ignores him. Keith has a sudden and vivid memory of the year Shiro and Adam drove him up to Seattle in the winter so he could be more cultured, or whatever (or less of a desert menace, Adam had argued, and perhaps more inclined to stop biting people), and spent the whole car ride lecturing him about hypothermia.

“It doesn’t take very long to set in,” Shiro had said.

“And once you have it you need to warm up or your heart can stop,” Adam had finished, very serious.

Suddenly Keith starts to feel very panicked.

Lukewarm tea, warm blankets, skin to skin contact with someone who’s warm, were Shiro’s instructions. And then possibly hospital.

Well. Keith has one of those things.

Before he can talk himself out of it, he wraps a gentle hand around Lance’s shoulder, tugging him upright, then pulls him forward so his cradled hands are pressed against Keith’s chest and his head is tucked into the junction of Keith’s neck.

Worryingly, it takes Lance almost thirty seconds to start complaining.

“You smell like mullet,” he whines. But he doesn’t move away. In fact, he burrows closer.

Keith swallows down his worry. “Mullets don’t smell like anything, dumbass.” He brings his hands up to press against Lance’s back. Lance groans, curling deeper into Keith’s hold. His nose is icy and burns a trail across Keith’s shoulder, down his collarbone. Keith’s flush from earlier makes an enthusiastic return, because nothing good still exists in the world.

“I still think you’re annoying,” Lance mumbles. Every move of his lip brushes against Keith’s skin.

“Shut up and focus on not freezing to death,” Keith snaps.

Lance snorts. “I’m not gonna freeze to death, doofus. It’s just a dead elevator. Once I fell asleep on the Garrison rooftop in January and only had to spend three days in urgent care, so basically I can withstand anything.”

Keith pauses. He tries to reconcile the Lance who just said that to the Lance who came up with a life saving plan in thirty seconds on the Balmera to the Lance who threatened to stick Keith in a wormhole to the Lance who smiled and said they made a good team before passing out in Keith’s arms.

“You are a very confusing person,” he says when all the reconciling does absolutely nothing.

“Thank you,” Lance says, sounding pleased.

Keith snorts and tightens his hold. Lance sighs and sags a little. Slowly his fingers stop feeling so much like ice blocks, and his breathing doesn’t sound so erratic. Keith doesn’t know how long it’s been. He stopped trying to count somewhere between when Lance’s cheek squished against his chest and his fingers started tracing featherlight patterns across his skin.

Lance yawns. Keith tries to fight his but ends up yawning anyway.

“Is it bad to let a person with hypothermia sleep?” he mumbles, half-slurring his words.

Lance hums. “‘M not hypothermic.”

“Dunno. Could be.”

He sighs again, a puff of air against Keith’s neck, and spreads his palms against Keith’s chest, flat. “‘M not. You’re too warm.” He pauses. “Freak.”

His tone is fond. The corners of Keith’s lips quirk up. “Weirdo.”

“Mhm.”

He falls asleep trying to count Lance’s breaths. It’s — groundbreaking, somehow.

———

(“Oh, my God.”

Keith cracks open bleary eyes, lifting a hand to rub his face. Lance groans from his place on Keith’s chest — in a puddle of drool, why is that not nearly as revolting as it should be — and snatches Keith’s wrist way faster than he should be able to as groggy as he is, placing it back around his waist.

“Oh, my God,” the voice repeats, gleeful.

“Shut up, Shiro,” Keith mutters. “Fuck.”

It takes him a minute.

His eyes fly open at the same time as Lance’s, and they look at each other, and then Keith is being shoved and kicked at the same time somehow and Lance is scrambling backwards at the speed of light, screeching. A loud bang makes Keith look over and he discovers his brother, who is dead to him, collapsed on the floor, laughing so loud Zarkon can probably hear him.

“What — Shiro — go — stop fucking laughing, you piece of shit!”

Lance continues to screech. Keith whips a towel at him.

“You gay pining loser!” Shiro shrieks. “I’m going to tell literally everyone!”

Keith puts his head in his hands and wishes he’d fallen down the goddamn elevator shaft.)

#hehehe 😈😈 #vld #voltron #lance #lance mcclain #keith #keith kogane #klance #pining keith #adhd keith #keith has adhd #brown eyed lance #anaemic lance #which is so goddamn funny to me #elevator scene #broganes #enemies to lovers #banter #lance is a shithead #i love him so bad #my writing #longpost

[turtletaubwrites]

Misty Eyes ~ Part 3

THIS FIC CONTAINS DARK CONTENT. 18+ ONLY. MDNI. *This part contains two Doffy flashbacks with a graphic depiction of violence including blood, murder of an unnamed character, and the reader being sick, as well as implied sexual encounters. Doffy flashback sections are marked between these symbols ~🦩🦩🦩~ so you can skip past them if you'd like. The chapter begins with one of these graphic memories, but ends with some Hurt/Comfort & sweet fluff!

Pairings: Trafalgar Law x Fem!Reader, Doflamingo x Fem!Reader (Past & Flashbacks)

Word Count: 5768

Misty Eyes Masterlist

Ao3 Link

Summary: You try to acclimate to life aboard this yellow submarine, but your past keeps tearing you apart. All that Doffy made you do feels like a stain on your soul, and you're afraid you'll never be clean.

Author's Note: This one gets really fucked up, but I hope the sweet ending makes up for it! 🖤 I have added the dead dove do not eat tag, so please heed the warnings, and do not read if they might be triggering for you.

Thank you so much @pinejayyfor this delicious request!!

Rating/Warnings: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Explicit Sexual Content, 18+ ONLY, MDNI, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, Devil Fruit User Reader, Swearing, Eventual Smut, Angst, Pet Names, Degradation, Punishment, Emotional Abuse, DARK CONTENT, DUBCON, Grooming, Trauma, Past Sexual Abuse, Manipulation, Power Imbalance, Dubious Consent, Donquixote Doflamingo is His Own Warning, Bondage, Dissociation, Inappropriate Use of Akuma no Mi | Devil Fruit Powers, Kissing, Shame, Blood and Violence, Vomiting, Minor Character Death, (unnamed character), Sparring, Childhood Memories, Chaste Childhood Kiss, Teasing, Tickling, Yandere Donquixote Doflamingo, Hurt/Comfort, Other Additional Tags To Be Added

!!! SPOILERS !!! This story begins during the 2 year timeskip before the Punk Hazard Arc, and there will also be spoilers for the Dressrosa Arc for backstory lore

| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 |

~🦩🦩🦩~

“Another simple mission too much for you, Y/N?”

Doffy ducked a bit as he sauntered into the room, his voice making your enemy freeze with her sea prism stone blade to your throat.

“Young mast–”

Your target smirked at you, pressing the tip of the blade into your flesh, just enough to cut your words. 

“Are you good and scared,” she taunted, ignoring the powerful man at her back.

Is she fucking stupid? She has to know who he is.

Doffy grinned as he moved closer, until you saw yourself reflected in his sunglasses over your enemy’s head. Neither of the menacing figures before you moved or spoke for a moment, leaving your mind in chaos. 

I failed him again. He’s not helping me. Why would he? I’m worthless. 

The woman chuckled, showing no fear as the future king of the pirates towered over her. Until his large hand fisted her hair, lifting her until her toes barely touched the ground. A shocked cry left her lips, her satisfied smirk torn away as she struggled to free herself.

“You really can’t do anything on your own, can you?”

Humiliation poured over you, making you wish that the blade had cut you deeper. The prick of blood on your throat wasn’t nearly enough to drown your shame. 

The woman laughed, even as she struggled in Doffy’s grasp. She choked on that laughter as the blade in her hand flew toward her own neck, tugged by invisible strings. 

“Wait, you said–”

Those frantic eyes had tried to look toward the young master, but her words ended as a flood of red left her throat. Doffy laughed, watching your wide eyes while the woman thrashed. The blade clattered to the floor as a rain of bright, hot blood fell upon it. He took a step toward you, letting all that cherry red cascade down your chest as you stared into the woman’s dying eyes.

She reached for you, dragging her nails across your throat.

“You’re really gonna let this trash disrespect our family? Disrespect me,” Doffy questioned, as bile rose in your throat.

“N-No, I’m sorry young–”

“Finish it. Pick up the knife, and gut her.”

The woman was still struggling, still fighting, but you knew it wouldn’t be long. 

I have to prove myself. 

You couldn’t move. 

“Do it, Y/N,” Doffy threatened, his voice low as he shoved her closer. That hot blood poured over your face as he lifted her higher. 

You fell to your knees, somehow finding the blade through the red that had covered your eyes, spitting it out of your mouth as you used the wall to stand back up. 

“There you go. Prove you can do something right, Y/N.”

Blinking through the blood, you held the blade to the woman’s stomach, throwing up before you could pierce her flesh. 

Doffy dropped that lightly twitching body as you started to retch, stepping back to watch you cover your enemy in your own pathetic disgrace. 

Choking on sobs as your stomach emptied over the nearly dead form, you tried to wipe and hide your face. There was no way to hide from Doffy, his manic grin looming near as he crouched beside you. 

“Such a pathetic sight. To think that a member of my family could fail me like this,” he tutted, ripping your heart to shreds. 

“I’m so sorry, young master, I–”

Your fingers slipped in the blood and sick on the floor as you tried to push yourself up, until your body moved on its own. 

No. Not on its own. 

Doffy moved it, his fingers extending as he controlled you. A disgusting marionette, dripping with the evidence of shame. 

“So disappointing.”

The young master’s voice weighed you down, even as he held your body up. He directed your movements, forcing you to walk as though you were proud of the sticky failure on your skin. 

I’m nothing. I don’t deserve to live. I don’t deserve his love. 

~🦩🦩🦩~

“Y/N, hey, you’re okay–” 

“I couldn’t do it, I’m too weak. I’m so sorry, young–”

Nausea tore through you, the fight to keep from being sick bringing you into the present. Into the mist. Law’s soothing voice was too full of concern, and you hated taking down your camouflage. Hated letting him see how weak you were. 

“Y/N, can I check your–”

Law’s fingers were on you as soon as you nodded, slipping along the cold sweat that coated your skin as he checked your temperature and pulse. 

“I’m fine,” you lied, your voice hoarse as if you had been sick. 

His hands guided your trembling body as you sat up, your eyes caught on your own misty fingers. 

Pathetic. 

“Do you… wanna talk about it?”

A sharp laugh escaped you, flooding you with guilt. An apology died in your throat as you rubbed your hands over your arms, sliding through that layer of sweat. 

“Can I take a shower?”

~

The “Surgeon of Death” waited outside the bathroom for you. You thought he was trying to help you feel safe by not letting anyone else in, until you remembered the concern, the pity on his face. 

He’s making sure I don’t hurt myself. 

You couldn’t meet his eyes as he tried to speak to you on the way to the galley, but a tiny smile broke through your heavy shame from Law’s poor attempt at small talk. 

“Good morning, Y/N!” Penguin’s voice was too loud as he leaned close to grab breakfast at the counter. The stuffed penguin on his hat bobbed toward you while he spoke.

“Morning,” you greeted, with far less enthusiasm, only to be met with a small orchestra of cheerful voices calling to you, and their captain. 

“Hope you didn’t mind the captain on your floor last night. He used to snore like a–”

“Penguin,” Law commanded, voice low as he gripped his crew mate’s wrist. 

The man's friendly clap on your back had made your shoulders tense up, your jaw clenching as Doffy’s voice boomed through your mind. 

‘Only I’m allowed to touch my little doll,’ Doffy rasped, pinching your thighs almost too hard as you sat in his lap. You tried not to stare at the blood spreading across the marble floor. ‘I don’t like to share.’

“Sure, sorry captain, sorry Y/N…” Penguin took a step back, dipping his head at Law’s frown.

“It’s okay,” you breathed, your lying smile forming so easily on your face before he led you to a table in the corner, away from his happy crew.

I’m like mist, sucking the joy and beauty out of a sunny place.

“Why don’t we skip the interview today,” Law suggested, tapping his pretty fingers on the table.

“But, don’t you nee–”

“I need you to be okay,” he interrupted, reaching those fingers to touch your wrist gently, barely, before pulling away. “Besides, I have something else in mind.”

~ 

Moving through the metal halls felt like a dream, like you’d get lost, and keep walking for years before you woke up. Until he spun the wheel to open a heavy door, leading you into the largest room you’d seen on this underwater ship.

“How nostalgic,” you teased, nodding your head toward the wall of weapons in what was clearly a training room. 

“It’s been a while since you kicked my ass,” he said with a laugh, and you chewed your lip to fight your cheesy smile. He moved down the wall, pulling two daggers free before facing you. “Catch.”

“Wait,” you cried out, ready to move or mist away, but your body acted on its own. You caught the blade he’d thrown your way, gripping it as you smiled to yourself.

“I see you haven’t lost your reflexes,” he hummed, facing off with you.

“What if I had,” you scolded, your free hand on your hip. 

“I knew it couldn’t hurt you. But your enemies might not,” he mused. “Why didn’t you strike? I gave you an opening.”

“What are you–” you laughed, shaking your head at him. “I’m not a fighter anymore. Besides, I don’t want to be mauled by a bear when your crew finds out I tried to attack you.”

His scowl was so sharp, you almost missed his movement. The second blade flew toward you, spinning clear with the ringing of metal as you blocked it with the first dagger.

“What the fuck, Law?”

He ignored you as he pulled a sword from the wall, striding your way with death in his eyes. Your body slid into a stance it hadn’t felt in years, and you gritted your teeth. Barely escaping Law’s attack, you used the dagger to deflect his blade as you rolled away.

“Why are–”

His sword came down over your head, and you misted out of reach, your breath heavy as anger and fear started to build. 

“Law! Why–”

“Why do you keep saying you’re weak?”

You froze, unable to move as he plunged his sword through your chest, meeting nothing but mist.

“What happened to the girl that could kick my ass? Until I’d get her back, of course,” he grinned, offering his hand to help you up. Still frozen, you watched him sigh, dropping the sword as he sat down beside you. 

“Why do you keep saying that you’re weak,” he repeated softly, his gaze stripping you to the bone.

“Because I am weak.”

The words held nothing but truth, a truth you’d long since accepted. 

“Don’t be stupid,” he reprimanded, the insult bringing your eyes to his with a bit of shock and annoyance.

“Is that my doctor’s orders,” you growled, anger showing through your mask for the first time in ages. Pulling your knees up to your chest, you dug your nails into your shins, the comfort of the mild pain helping you stay grounded.  

“Yes,” he deadpanned, your lips parting as you glared. He didn’t drop that judgemental look on his face, and it was too fucking much.

You hid the need to squirm by standing, picking up the weapons to hang back on the wall. The weight of a useless life pushed your shoulders down, until a tattooed hand touched yours, taking one of the daggers from you while you stared at the floor. 

“When we were kids, you were just as strong of a fighter as I was. I don’t understand how that could change, Y/N,” he recalled, voice soft as he touched your chin. His eyes searched yours, as if you were a puzzle he couldn’t solve. 

“I know you’re fierce. Pretty sure I’ve still got a few scars from you,” he laughed, that gentle sound making your eyes drift closed, a bittersweet smile on your lips. 

“I’m not fierce,” you confessed, shivering as your skin burned where his fingers still held your chin. “I couldn’t keep up. My powers are so... I kept failing, just like they said I would.”

“Don’t be an idiot.”

You almost gaped at him again, but his hand on your chin kept your jaw from dropping. Pulling away, you crossed your arms, that irritation growing. 

“Your bedside manner is shit, you know that?”

“We’re not in bed right now,” he countered, his confident voice cut short by his own awkward cough as he continued. “You know what I mean.”

“No, I don’t. I’m not a fighter anymore, Law. I can help you with my memories, you don’t need to do all of this.” He ignored your movements as you gestured to the wall of weapons, falling back into that frown he’s so good at. 

“Get over it.”

“Excuse me?”

He thrust the handle of the dagger into your palm, leaning close. 

“Everyone has to pull their weight on this ship. You’re gonna shadow the crew until we find a job that suits you. You’re gonna sit with me for interviews. And you’re gonna train, just like everyone else,” he commanded, your breath catching as you felt the authority pouring off of him. His fingers were still wrapped around yours, pressing the handle of the blade into your skin.

“Do you under–”

Law grunted with more surprise than pain as your other fist connected with his face. He took a step back, scalding eyes raking over you while he rubbed his jaw, but you cut him off before he could speak. 

“Gotcha, with a capital ‘G,” you declared, moving your arms with the dagger to create a poor image of the letter ‘G.’

Everything else faded from your mind as Law started to laugh, holding himself up with his hands on his knees. You couldn’t help but join him, some good childhood memories finally filling the air between you. 

“Does he still do that,” he asked, still breathless as he fought the laughter.

“Lau G won’t stop doing that until he’s dead and gone.”

He leaned against the wall of weapons, shaking his head as he pulled up ancient memories.

“That old man trained both of us, Y/N. You were neck and neck with me, even though I’d never admit it back then.”

Your face grew hot, hopefully masked by the wheezing laughter you were still recovering from. But shame quickly followed the pride from his praise, so you turned away to stretch, avoiding his discerning eyes.

“Let’s start with hand to hand,” he ordered softly. You let him take the blade from you, meeting him on the mats in the center of the large, echoey room. Bouncing on your heels, you fought to keep yourself in the present. 

‘Can’t take care of a single mission. I’ve never had such a failure in my family before. What should I do with you?’

‘So misty, so flimsy! You’ll never be as strong as us. I bet the young master will throw you out soon.’

‘Why don’t you just focus on being pretty, dear. I heard the young master say that’s all you’re good for.’

“I won’t go easy on you," Law's threat broke through your foggy mind. He smirked, taunting you with a tilt to his head. “Kick my ass.”

Falling into a stance without a thought, you tried to be here, to be nothing but this. You couldn’t make the first move, getting annoyed as Law feinted, tapping you here or there until you finally fought back. 

There he was. That silly, angry boy with that wicked smirk. The smirk that you needed to kick off that pretty face. Two years of rivalry, two years of tiny, vicious preteens sparring daily, came flooding back as the sounds filled the training room. The sounds of fists and shins connecting with bodies, breaths and grunts, snarky remarks and laughter. 

It felt like no time had passed. 

Until you noticed that thought, and shame hit you just before Law tackled you, taking your breath as he rode your body to the ground. 

Coming back to yourself too late, he had you pinned, unable to work your arms or legs to get out of his grasp. 

“I know you can do better than that,” he teased, his black hair caught in the sweat on his forehead as he stared down at you. 

“Go fuck yourself,” you breathed, still winded with his weight on your body.

“With a capital ‘G,” he smirked, too much satisfaction on his face. He laughed as you squirmed harder, trying to free a hand to punch him with. 

Now you were satisfied, hearing him grunt as he struggled to keep you in place. You freed one arm, but before you could make contact, Law changed position. He caught your wrist, his breathing ragged as his face hovered even closer to yours. 

The air was different, shivers running through you as your bodies relaxed into each other. The struggle halted as you felt his breath on your lips. 

His eyes were wide as he took you in, his brows creasing just a bit. Your chest warmed at the memory of a childhood crush, and a quick peck of a kiss before he disappeared. That sweet memory fell apart when he pulled himself off of you, a slight frown on his lips before he turned away. 

Oh. 

“That’s, uh,” he started, walking away as he avoided your gaze, “that’s enough for today. Let’s get cleaned up, and I’ll get your schedule for tomorrow. Good work, today.”

You held up a polite smile as sharp blades of ice seemed to carve into your empty chest. Wanting Law to kiss you seemed ridiculous. Selfish. You hadn’t realized that your stupid, absent heart was so delusional. And now you knew exactly why you shouldn’t think about him that way. 

He’s disgusted by me. I’ll always be tainted. Ruined. I’m lucky he hasn’t put me out of my misery yet. Why would Law want to touch trash like me?

The thoughts crashed into you, and the moment wouldn’t stop replaying. The press of him, his amber eyes, the sweat and breath mixing between you. 

And that frown as he pulled away. 

It played on a loop as you walked through the submarine, repeating through another shower, a nearly silent lunch in the galley, and the tour. Law guided you with a hand drawn map, labeled with the various stations, and the crew members you’d be shadowing. A detailed weekly schedule filled the back of the paper, and you let out a quiet laugh at his attention to detail.

“Do you have any questions?”

“No, teacher,” you teased, breathing deep when he finally looked at you again. 

“It’s captain,” he corrected as he pointed to the schedule. “You’ll be with Ikkaku tomorrow morning, then if you’re up for it, I'd like to do another interview.”

“Aye aye, captain.”

Just a twitch of his lips this time, but it was a relief. Until he left you in the galley with the crew, excusing himself to complete some “captain’s duties.”

He doesn’t even want to eat with me now. I probably make him sick.

“Hi, Y/N, you can sit with me! You know, if you want to…” Bepo trailed off, flipping from excited to glum in seconds. 

“Thank you, Bepo,” you agreed, donning your cheerful voice as you sat across from him. 

“Hey, I’m sorry about earlier,” Penguin said as he sat beside you, still too close for comfort after years of Doffy’s rules. “The captain’s the only one that taught us any manners, but I guess I still need some practice.”

“It’s al–”

“Give her some space, you’re being a creep,” Shachi cut in, sitting across from Penguin as he pointed a fork his way. 

“I’m not a creep, you jerk–”

“The captain said to behave ourselves,” Bepo scolded, and you found a real smile on your lips as you saw the concern on his cute, furry face.

“Hey, you’re with me tomorrow, right?”

Ikkaku waved over the bear's shoulder, her dark brown curls making her instantly recognizable. You confirmed with a nod while the three boys at the table kept bickering. 

“Let’s go talk about it.”

Arguments and insults floated through the air, and you were grateful for the rescue as you joined the only other non-man on the ship. She smirked as she nodded her head toward her crew mates.

“Don’t mind the dumbasses, they’re harmless.”

“Thanks,” you laughed, your appetite returning as you watched Ikkaku take a large bite, rolling her eyes at Bepo’s table. 

Comfortable quiet sat with you, and you finally felt a moment of ease in your new world. Even with Law, you felt this energy of holding yourself up, of presenting yourself how you wanted him to see you. But this relaxed woman seemed friendly as she dug into her meal, without the pressure of a smile. She didn’t watch you, or force you into small talk, even when you followed her out of the galley to point out where you’d be working in the morning. 

“I’m ‘Weps,’ so I’ll be showing you how to spot and kill enemies. Hopefully we’ll always be bored,” she huffed, pointing vaguely toward her station before guiding you back to the barracks. 

“That’s you, right,” she asked, tapping on your door. “I’ll yell when it’s time to go.”

“Thank you,” you squeaked, staring for a moment as she turned away. 

That small metal room seemed to amplify your worst thoughts, your loneliness echoing through the air like some torturous bell. You wished you had some sort of drug to knock yourself out. Instead, you curled on your side, trying not to think about how Law had cared enough to sleep on your floor last night, but could barely look at you after your near touch earlier. 

~🦩🦩🦩~

“Don’t get all misty-eyed. That man should have known better than to touch my pretty doll,” Doffy declared, crouching down to press his palm into the sticky red puddle.

The blood of an unlucky man. A friendly man that tried to help you stay balanced while you walked down a flight of stairs in too-high heels. 

“No one else will ever touch you,” Doffy breathed, pressing his bloody palm to your chest. He licked his lips as he dragged his fingers higher, painting your skin. 

Doffy loves me. He’ll be King. Kings have to do this. They have to enforce their–

Your deep breaths and calming thoughts halted as his sticky hand gripped your face, digging into your cheeks to tilt your face up to his.

No more misty eyes.

You felt pride for your lack of tears, and for the smile he gave before he smoothed the hair from your face.

“You’re so pretty when you listen to me,” he praised, his grin deepening when he heard your pleased hum. “You know I’ll have to kill you too, right? You're my doll now. Letting someone touch you with their grubby fingers, and defile my toy sounds like another failure, huh, misty eyes?”

A soft noise escaped your lips as you struggled to be strong for him. 

“Well,” he seethed, the veins in his forehead bulging as he shook your face in his bloody grip, “does my pretty doll have anything to say?”

“I-I’m yours, Doffy,” you promised, keeping your eyes dry as your body went loose, leaning into his hold. 

“My body belongs to you, young mast– Doffy. I’d rather die than let someone defile your property.”

A bruising kiss took your breath, and you whined for him as he laid you on the marble floor. That spill of red beside you had finally stopped flowing. 

“Don’t forget that, Y/N. I’m the only one that gets to defile my pretty doll. My disgusting, little toy. No one would want to touch you anyway. Not if they knew what you let me do to you.”

Doffy laughed as he proved it to you.

And you kept your eyes dry.

~🦩🦩🦩~

Last night, your mind had chosen memories over dreams. The lights and sounds of the sonar were lovely, yet too soothing, and Ikkaku caught you shaking yourself as you held in a yawn. 

“Come on,” she ordered as she pushed you out of the weapons room, leading you through the halls. You pressed your fingers into your brow, trying to alleviate some of the pressure, not realizing where she was taking you until she called through a familiar door.

“Captain, I need to report a crew member who’s unfit for duty.”

“Wait, what,” you cried out, cutting off your own yawn as she rolled her eyes at you. 

Law opened the door, his eyes narrowing on you before he looked at her.

“What’s your report?”

“Y/N was doing well with sonar, but she's clearly sleep deprived. There's no yawning at my weapons station, Captain.”

Ikkaku softened her report by flashing you a tiny smile, but your shoulders slumped in embarrassment. 

“Thank you for the report,” Law cleared his throat, avoiding your eyes as he focused on her. “We’ll try again tomorrow. You’re dismissed, Ikkaku.”

She patted your back as she passed, her gesture of comfort lost as your body tensed at the touch. 

With a shaky breath, you turned to him, staring at his tattooed arms that flexed as they crossed below his chest. 

I didn’t mind when he touched me.

That thought was bittersweet, the bitter turning to bile when you remembered him pulling away. 

“Come in,” he gestured into the office, and you stepped back into your memories. A shrine to Doffy, even if it was built of hate. 

“How much sleep did you get last night,” he spoke like a doctor, scrutinizing every movement as you sat down across his desk. 

“How would I know? There’s no clock in there.”

Somehow, his frown deepened, and you let out a heavy sigh. 

“Did you sleep at all?”

The touch of warmth in his voice filled the cold room, but you didn’t want it. You couldn’t truly have it. So you let the truth ring through your mind as you lied again.

All I am is the broken toy of the man he despises. 

“I’m sorry. I’ll be okay.”

Your eyes slid away, seeing nothing as you pretended to be fine. Yet, you blinked slowly when he stood, his chair scraping along the floor before he came to kneel beside you.

Time seemed fuzzy, but after a while you heard his voice, low and steady. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I shouldn’t have left you alone.”

Too tired and stuck for anything except for the faint quivering of your bottom lip, you stayed silent. 

“Is it…” he cleared his throat, flexing his hands before he went on. “Is it alright if I hug you?”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he tried to cover his worry in a soothing tone as tears and small choked sounds left your throat. “We don’t need to–”

“Please.”

That tiny, pathetic word left your lips, and you felt sick for asking for anything. Sick for forcing him to take care of you. 

But you didn’t fight as he pulled the chair out, as he knelt to the side of your knees, as he touched long fingers to your cheek. 

“Is it alright if I hug you,” he asked again in a whisper. You were too weak to protect him from you, nodding slowly until you felt more of his touch. 

He pulled you gently forward, your arms limp as he wrapped his around your waist, letting your head rest on his shoulder. 

“You’re okay,” he soothed, sliding a palm between your shoulder blades. “You’re gonna be okay.”

Denials and arguments struggled to leave your lips, anger and fear fighting for control. 

But you were so tired. 

And Law felt so warm, so solid, his smell familiar, yet new. He squeezed you tighter as your breath sped up, holding you still, until you held him too.

He didn’t let go as you dripped hot tears onto his neck. He didn’t let go when you clung to him, digging your fingers into his arms and shoulders. He didn’t let go as your cries flipped from silent to pleading, as you begged for his forgiveness, or choked over the fears and shame you carried. 

Through every round of emotions, you would return to guilt and disgust.

“I’m sorry, Law, I’m sick. You shouldn't be... I’m sorry you have to touch me.”

“Why are you saying that,” he nearly growled, holding your head against him to keep you from leaving his grasp. 

You had no idea how long you’d made him care for you, how many tears you’d let stain his shirt. But however long it had been, you were finally able to speak some of it clearly. 

“You hate him,” you said, your feeble voice breaking between your haggard breaths, “and I’m his… I’m broken. I’m disgust–”

“Shut up.”

A surprised yelp stopped your words, the force of his grip catching your breath. 

Law’s fingers dug into your skin as he pressed you against him, almost to the point of pain, and your mind froze as you waited for him. 

“There’s nothing wrong with you,” he declared, forcing the words through his teeth. “I don’t give a shit about what he did to you. I don’t care what he made you do. It wasn’t your fault, you hear me?”

There was anger in his words, but you knew it wasn’t for you. Still, you were stunned, feeling his heavy breaths beating against your chest. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he breathed, his voice cracking as he buried his face into your neck before pulling away. It was almost painful losing his warmth against you, but he took your hands in his. He seemed to be having more trouble meeting eyes than you were, and you started sinking into the chair while he cleared his throat a few times. 

“When I found out that you’d… That he’d… I should have saved you, Y/N. But I decided not to care about you so I could focus on my mission. I let him–”

“Stop,” you cried out, shaking your head against the guilt in his voice. “I wouldn’t have come with you before. I don’t even know when things started to change. But I would have betrayed you. I wanted to be… I’m glad you didn’t find me sooner, Law. I just wish–”

You cut yourself off, melting into his golden eyes. A stolen moment of peace amidst the guilt and pain. 

“What do you wish,” he asked, rubbing his thumbs over the back of your hands.

“... I don't think broken people get wishes.”

He gave a jaded laugh before standing, leaning against the desk while he rubbed his knees. 

“Will it help you sleep if I stay on your floor tonight?”

You smirked at his soft words, looking from his knees up to his face before responding. 

“I don’t know, old man. I don’t think it’ll be good for your joints.” The look on his face was perfect, and a real laugh left your raw throat, shaking your tired body. 

“We’re the same age,” he countered, eyes wide with that manic grin, “and disrespecting your captain is a punishable offense.”

“I see how it is,” you teased, lightly poking his side. “Still can’t come up with a good comeback, so you threaten me with violence? Looks like you haven’t changed a bit, you– Law!”

He’d grabbed your wrist before going to his knees again, those pretty fingers searching your ribs for the perfect spot. You writhed and laughed, and failed to fight him off as he tickled you, the way he used to when he couldn’t outsmart you. 

“Law, you–”

“Fuck, sorry. I shouldn’t have…”

Law pressed himself against the desk, still on his knees with his hands held up, his eyes wide and worried as he looked at you. 

You cracked up, true, heavy laughter, until his lips curled into that evil little smirk. But you beat him to it, sliding to the ground to get him back, tickling and getting a good squirm out of him before you both attacked. 

He growled as he laughed, grappling you to the side of the chair until he had you pinned to the ground again. Neither of you could tickle the other as you fought for control or freedom. His cheeks were flushed as he laughed in your face, giving you a snarky, “nuh uh,” when you failed to break loose. 

His tongue pressed between his teeth as he gloated, that cocky grin fading as you melted into each other again. 

“I–I’m sorry,” he sighed, shifting his weight to leave. 

“Don’t be sorry,” you demanded, breathless, and aching for him to stay. “I want…”

You closed your eyes, guilt and shame sliding into your lungs again. 

His weight shifted, settling back where he was before. You bit your lip when you saw him staring at your mouth, and heat filled your body as you became hyper aware of every detail of his gorgeous face. 

“You want,” he rasped as he met your eyes, concern still pouring from his own.

Your words were choked by all those shitty feelings and doubts. 

“It’s okay, Y/N.”

His gentle voice eased the tension in your body, and you were grateful that he hadn’t moved. That he still touched you. 

He was still touching you even though you were broken.  

“I want you to kiss me.” 

~🖤🖤🖤~

You’d ordered the stupid boy to kiss you, your arms crossed as you tried to act like you didn’t care. He’d lost the bet, and had to do whatever you asked. 

“Ew, gross! I’m not doing that.”

Law stuck his tongue out, pretending to be sick.

“You lost the bet,” you scolded, punching his shoulder. “Want me to tell everyone you’re an oathbreaker?”

“Why do you wanna kiss me anyway? I’m sick,” he questioned, a hint of hurt in his voice as he gestured to the pale spots on his face. 

“I don’t care if you’re sick. I like you how you are.” The confession slipped out, and heat rushed to your face as you clamped your hands over your mouth.

“You like me,” he taunted, smirking as he poked your burning cheek. “Ha, you’re such a girl.”

“Am not,” you yelled, your hands going misty with embarrassment. 

“So, all I gotta do is kiss you, and we’ll be square?”

You nodded quickly, not sure if you should trust him. 

“Fine,” he complained, leaning in. 

You didn’t know what the big deal was about kissing. His lips were cold and scratchy when he pressed them against yours for a few seconds, then he scowled at you as he pulled away. 

“That was dumb,” he deadpanned, poking your side. 

“You’re dumb!”

He stuck his tongue out at you, and you chased Law down until he swore to never tell a soul. 

~🖤🖤🖤~

“Ew, gross,” Law grinned, your mouth falling open in shock. 

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” he teased, moving his smug face closer to yours. “Kissing you sounds gross.”

“You fucking ass,” you seethed, struggling to get out of his grapple so you could punch him. “I can’t believe–”

He let out a needy sound as he crashed his lips onto yours, and you moaned against him. Your back arched when he released his hold on your arms to cradle your face. 

A sob of relief escaped you, and you felt like you’d lost your mind, your hands clawing at his back to pull him closer. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he breathed, pressing his forehead against yours. “I should–”

“No more ‘sorry's,” you ordered, “I just want you to kiss me.”

Law chuckled, his voice coming back in a wicked rasp. 

“Ew, gross.”

Likes, comments, and reblogs bring me much ✨dopamine✨ thank you so much!

a/n: Sorry about the gruesome, but I hope you enjoyed the wholesome Law with his childhood sweetheart. I adore this man 🥰

Note for the timeline: The childhood flashback occurred shortly before Cora took Law away, so both the reader and Law had known each other over 2 years, and were both between 12-13 yrs old. At the present time in the story, both the reader and Law are around 25 years old.

Tag List: @shewrites02 | @jadeddangel | @nothing-but-brass

Part 4

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[delicate-moon-princess]

Hello. Hope you are well. I don’t know if your requests are open, but I would love more Superman x reader stories. Maybe the reader is married to Clark. Clark is always very gentle, caring and soft. Always afraid of hurting the reader by accident. But maybe wants it a little rough? At least sometimes. Totally not against any dd/lg elements.

Bad Days and Bratty Ways

Trying to seduce your husband after a bad day seems to be futile. Good thing a little bit of misbehaving can tip him over the edge. -Daddy!Clark Kent x Reader

Warning: 18+ dd/lg, daddy kink, rough p in v, fingering, choking, light spanking, dumbification, squirting, creampie- Let me know if I forgot anything!

4.2k words

Any typos are my own!

A/N: This had been in my inbox for awhile, I’m sorry 😣 I hope you enjoy it!

******

Clark dealt his anger differently than most. Some people had hobbies that helped them de-stress. Or perhaps they went for a walk to clear their heads. The Kryptonians' fury morphed into something more carnal. His method to fighting any hostile thoughts was chasing them away with a good, hard fuck. 

It was a shock to learn this at first. Clark seemed like such a proper gentleman. And he was. Most of the time. Other times he ditched all gentlemanly standards, used your body for his own selfish needs. And you loved being there to help chase away his ire.

You cherished the times he was rougher with you. Your husband rarely got angry, so those moments were far and few between. His fits always left you aching in the most pleasant way. Despite being married for only a short time, you quickly learned to pick up on the signs that he was riled up.

That’s why you kept a close eye on him during dinner.

Something was bothering him. His mannerisms made it clear. The smiles he gave you were strained, as you observed how tired his eyes looked. His food was half heartedly pushed around with his fork, as if he had no appetite for the meal. He wasn’t very talkative, so you carried most of the conversation. You would get an occasional nod or quiet response.

When you asked him about his day at work, he changed the subject to something else. Typical. He always tried to ignore his emotions. He didn’t want to worry you, but more importantly, he didn’t want to hurt you if he became enraged with lust.

Maybe he just needed a little push? 

When the food was gone, he helped you clean up. No words were spoken as he loaded the dishwasher. His brows were pinched together, his jaw clenching as he pursed his lips. You saw his nostrils flare slightly.

“Daddy?” You stood behind him, your arms behind your back.

You held back a smile when you saw him freeze. There was the magic word. Now to watch him fold.

He turned halfway to look at you, brows raised. His expression softened when he took in the sight of you in front of him. You rocked on your heels as you patiently waited to be answered by him.

“Yes, sunshine?” He hummed, the sight of his precious girl gazing at him so adoringly made him want to melt.

“Did you have a bad day?” You asked, leaving him no choice but to confide in his concerned wife.

“You could say that…” He sighed, shaking his head when you frowned. “It was a long day, sweetheart. There’s nothing to worry about, though.”

Why did he always build these walls around himself? You stifled a groan when he turned back to the dishes. Just a little encouragement. If you approached this carefully, he would open up.

You made your way to him. You knew he could hear as you neared, but he did not turn to look at you. He only stopped loading dishes when your hand touched his bicep. The plate he was holding made a soft clinking sound against the counter as he set it down.

He looked at you while covering your smaller hand with his. You watched as he brought your fingers to his lips and tenderly kissed your knuckles. You lifted your other hand to his hair,  gliding your nails along his scalp. Your spouse shuddered.

“I could help you relax.” You hinted, trying to get him to submit to his urges. “I know how to make it better.”

He knew too. Clark knew what he needed to extinguish the smoldering fury he felt deep in his gut. He couldn’t push you that far. Not again. 

That’s what he always told himself.

Every time he used you in one of his primal trances, you wore bruises the next day. Along with a raw feeling between your legs. While the fact that he was the one to make you limp gave him a demented sense of pride, guilt always overcame him. How could he ever hurt you like that?

He was apologetic afterwards, but you made an effort to comfort him by stressing how much you liked it when it hurt. The tinge of pain you felt after taking on the Man of Steel in bed served as a persistent reminder of who owned you.

Still, he remained hesitant to let go of all ambitions and ravish you like you both desired.

“I don’t know if that’s the best idea, sunshine.” He shook his head, gulping at the thought of hurting you too much. It only took one time for him to forget his strength. 

One time and he could do irreversible damage to the most important person in his life.

He took your other hand away from his hair, kissing your opposite set of knuckles. Then he brought your arms back down to your sides, pressing his lips to yours. He pulled back before speaking.

“I’ll run us a bath after I finish this. Go wait for Daddy in the bedroom, okay?” He stroked your cheek, beckoning you towards the bedroom with a nod of his head.

Your pout deepening did nothing to sway him as he turned away. Letting out a huff, you crossed your arms. Obviously, more drastic measures needed  to be taken. More bratty measures.

You stomped back to your previous position a few feet away from him. Instead of continuing to the bedroom like he asked you too, you spun back around.

“So, what asshole pissed you off at work today?” You raised a brow, not surprised when his head snapped up.

“Excuse me?” He challenged, certain that his ears misheard. 

His little girl did not just utter curse words. Not his sweet, good little girl. She knows better. Clark could feel the anger that was simmering during dinner begin to boil over.

“You heard me.” You sassed.  “What prick got under your skin? Did you tell them to fuck off?”

You considered backing out of your bratty regime when the superhero growled warningly. Then you saw his lip start to curl, and you knew you were close to striking oil.

“You need to watch your mouth, little girl.” He asserted, abandoning the dishes to slowly make his way towards you.

That was your last warning. You paid no mind to it.

“Why don’t you watch it for me, Daddy?” You smirked, cocking your head back to look up at him as he got closer. Not an ounce of fear was in your voice, your teeth biting your lower lip excitedly. 

His eyes narrowed. Then before you knew what was really happening, you were spun around by a strong hand on your bicep. Gasping, you tried to gather your wits. A grin broke out onto your face, proud to have finally pushed him over the edge. You shuddered, attempting to anticipate his next move.

“I wouldn’t be so proud of myself if I were you, little girl. You won’t like what Daddy has planned for you.” He kept a stern hold on you, his front pressed firmly against your back.

“Are you gonna spank me?” You went to turn your head to look at him, still smirking. His hand was quick to grab your jaw, keeping you looking ahead towards the island in the kitchen.

“No, you’d like that too much, wouldn’t you?” He scoffed, walking you forward until you were trapped between him and the counter.

That was true. You bite your lip to quell your smile, eyes rolling back when his hand slipped down to your throat. You unknowingly let out a whine, wordlessly pleading for him to squeeze. 

Clark growled, his bulge nudging the crease of your ass. Your walls clenched, as if your pussy was instinctively trying to swallow his length. Despite the confines between your bodies. His other hand held your hip, keeping you from squirming. 

“You know how much I don’t like it when you use those words. Do you think you’re a big girl now, hm? You think you can spurt out such vulgarity and get away with it? No, I don’t think so.” He hissed close to your ear, the hand on your throat finally clenching. With your breath cut off, he effectively squeezed the last vestige of deviance out of you.

You flooded your panties, the fabric darkened with the amount of your juices. Stars flashed behind your closed eyelids before he let you go, and you greedily inhaled air. You hiccuped as your knees wobbled.

“D-Daddy, please.” You whimpered, your eyes closed as you begged for his pity.

“What’s the matter? Can’t say bad words with Daddy’s hand around your throat, can you?” He gruffed, your throat vibrating against his palm as you mewled.

“I see right through that bratty facade.” He growled. “You’ve been squirming since I got home. You like to see me in a bad mood, don’t you?”

You inhaled sharply, bashful now that he called your bluff. And maybe a bit guilty. You pouted, closing your eyes. It was wrong to push his buttons when you knew he already had a bad day.

“Yes, I know your little games. And all through dinner, I could smell that dripping cunt. I know what you really want. You just need to be fucked, don’t you? It’s all you can think about. My precious little girl has become a real cock-crazed slut.” He sighed while shaking his head scoldingly.

“D-Dadd-ah!” You were about to beg for forgiveness before he bent you over the counter, cutting off your plea with a soft yelp.

The cold marble shocked your blazing flesh. You moaned, still trying to catch your breath when you feel his fingers hook under the hem of your bottoms. He shucked them down your legs

His eyes burned into you as you quivered before him. A draft blew across the wet fabric of your panties, making your toes curl. His heavy hand trailed up the back of your bare thigh which gave you goosebumps.

“Look at the mess you’ve made of yourself, dirty girl. Does acting like a brat really get you this excited? Do you like seeing me this angry?” He chided as you whined.

It was hard for you to speak, all you could focus on was his teasing fingers tracing the seam of your underwear. You didn’t answer, not expecting him to sigh and rip your flimsy panties off like they were made of tissue paper. The brutal smack on your bare bum also came as a surprise. Your startled shriek rang through the otherwise quiet kitchen.

“Answer me, sunshine. You don’t want to test Daddy’s patience right now.” He huffed, squeezing your glowing ass cheek.

“Yes, I-I like it…” You muttered quietly, ashamed to say it out loud. He sneered in displeasure, and you grunted when he swatted you again.

“Louder, little girl. You were so brave a second ago, what happened?” He raised a brow.

You pouted, your bum stinging. He said he wouldn’t spank you. It’s only fun when you’re expecting it. The wetness growing between your folds said otherwise, however.

“I like acting like a brat, Daddy.” You whined clearly, shifting back and forth on your legs to relieve some of the pressure in your belly. “It gets me excited.” 

“And why’s that, huh?” He grunted, needing to hear you say it.

“Because…” You whispered hesitantly, glancing away from him. “Because I-I wanted to make you mad. When you get mad, you’re rough with my… princess parts. And I love it.” Your voice became close to silent, this time he didn’t correct you. 

Saying it out loud was embarrassing. This wasn’t the first time you had disobeyed to get the attention you wanted. And this surely wasn’t the first time he noticed. How humiliating. A small part of you was still relieved to finally admit it.

Clark narrowed his eyes. He knew he shouldn’t condone such behavior. Like all the times before this. But all he could think about was pounding your tight little princess hole so hard you screamed.

“Naughty girl. Instead of coming and asking Daddy nicely to fuck your desperate pussy, you decide to act out. Push me to the edge, until I have to punish you.” He chastised, the aching in his loins made his restraint weaken.

“Sorry, Daddy...” You huffed, peeking back at him with a pout. 

He seemed to be debating something in his head. You swallowed nervously, your tongue coming out to lick your dry lips. He watched your mouth intensely. A groan rumbled in his throat as he blinked slowly. Then his gaze snapped back up to yours, his expression hardening once more.

“I shouldn’t be indulging in such naughty behavior, but you’re lucky I’m pent up from my day at work.” He grunted, leaning down to whisper in your ear. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll give you what you want. I’ll fuck you so hard you won’t have a single thought in that pretty little head. The only thing you’ll be able to think about is how I’m pounding that tight princess pussy.”

A quick slap to your clit shook you, crying out in surprise. You melted into a pitiful puddle of desire, your skin tingling as he rubbed your thighs and hips. His touch disappeared after giving your ass a hefty squeeze.

With your head still spinning, you looked back to see him working on unbuckling his belt. The metal clinked together. A sound that made you whimper. You unconsciously pushed your hips up, presenting to him. He wanted to chuckle at how needy his little girl was. 

When you reached for him, he backed away so your hand fell. You gave him a big pout, even trying puppy dog eyes. Why was he teasing so much?

“Quit your pouting. You don’t get to decide the pace, little miss. That’s Daddy’s job. Now be a good girl and keep your hands to yourself.” He smirked. 

He resumed pushing down his trousers. You moaned when his manhood fell out, already half hard and growing larger by the second. You wanted nothing more than to touch him. While you reached for him again, your fingers made a grabby gesture. It was paired with a frustrated whine.

He wouldn’t budge, stepping just out of your reach. He smirked before movement below his waist caught your attention. He had grabbed himself in his hand, casually squeezing from his base to his weeping tip.

Pearly white precum beaded out from the slit, making your mouth water. Your taste buds ached for a taste of him. You huffed to yourself, licking your lips to keep from drooling. He grinned.

“Is this what you want so bad, sweetheart? Is this what you’ve been fussing over, what’s got you so bratty? You’ve become addicted. Daddy’s cock has got you drooling. From here.” He grabbed your cheeks, pushing your lips together. You felt the saliva in your mouth start to drip out.

“And from here.” He let go of your jaw, reaching down to cover your mound in one large hand. 

He groaned as you leaked onto his palm, stroking his fingers back and forth to coat his hand in your wetness. You twitched as he circled your oozing entrance with one thick digit. His thumb sought out your nub, putting pressure on the aching knot of nerves. You cried out softly, pushing your hips into his hand as he toyed with your most sensitive spot. 

“Such a messy girl. Dripping all the way down to my wrist and I’ve barely touched you.” He chuckled, and you buried your head in your arms.

“Don’t get shy now, sweetheart. Daddy still has to fuck the naughtiness out of your drooly pussy. Right after I make you gush around my fingers like the nasty girl you are.”

You gasped as he sunk a finger into you. Your body seized, but it wasn’t enough. He clicked his tongue as you hiccuped and ground your hips against his one digit.

“Oh, poor girl. You’ve got yourself so worked up. My finger isn’t enough.” He cooed mockingly. “How about another? But it just won’t be enough until Daddy fucks you nice and hard, will it?” 

You hide your face with a whine. He entered with a second finger, making you hiss. Your tight hole swallowed his fingers like it was starving.  He dragged his digits in and out of you, the tips of his fingers scraping the delicate spot residing inside you. You moaned, lifting your head off the counter to tilt upwards towards the ceiling.

“That’s it, work yourself onto my fingers. You’re absolutely soaked. You’re going to make a puddle on the floor if you continue like this.” He laughed while looking down at his glistening hand and forearm.

A third finger joined the rest, stretching you as his thumb found your pleasure button. Your legs shook with the pace he set, the rubbing of your clit was in rhythm with his pummeling fingers. A groan left you, your eyes rolling back.

“Listen to that wet little pussy.” He beamed with a wild look in his eyes as your tightness squelched. “You’re going to do it, aren’t you? You’re going to make a mess all over, like the dumb little baby you are. Such a poor little thing, you can’t help it. Feels so good, doesn’t it?”

Sobbing, you nodded to everything he said. This got him to chuckle, the muscles in his bicep bulging as he fucked you with his fingers. He curled said fingers downward, knocking against the spot that made your heart stutter. 

“Go ahead a cum, sunshine. Show Daddy you can still be a good girl and gush all over my hand.” He growled, his thumb winding tight circles as you mewled like a kitten. “So close, baby, just a little bit more… Theeere we go, good girl.”

He cooed as he felt you clench around his fingers, smirking as he knew what was about to happen. The wail you let out made your own ears hurt, but you couldn’t help it as you squirted all over his arm. You heard some of it hit the floor, as he anticipated.

You humped against his hand as he shook his fingers inside you, stretching your climax out for as long as he could. Your flesh had a light sheen of sweat, which Clark licked off your neck while nuzzling your shoulder.

“There’s a good girl. I knew you could do it. Maybe you’re not so naughty after all…” He hummed.  

Your head snapped up when you felt the sensation of his hard member against your dewy petals. Instinctively, you pushed your hips up. This gave him a perfect angle to plunge into you as he teased the tip against your aching clit. You hiccuped as he groaned deeply, still hazy from your climax but you never forgot your need for him inside you.

“There she is, there’s my girl. Getting ready to take it in her little hole because she can’t seem to care about anything else. Beg for it. Go on. Daddy wants to hear you beg to get your tight pussy demolished.” He traced the head of his length up and down your slit, coating himself in the juices leaking from your core. 

He teased your entrance, but never filled you like you wanted. A deep ache was building in your gut, tight and throbbing. It was beginning to hurt, being unsatiated for so long. 

If he wanted you to beg, you would grovel at his feet. If that’s what it took for him to fuck you.

“Daddy, please.” You whined, swaying your hips back and forth. “I-I need to be fucked. ‘M all wet and achy down there… Need you to fuck me. Wreck my princess parts, Daddy, please! Demolish me-AGH!”

You interrupted yourself with a loud cry when he plunged into you in one deep thrust. It took little effort on his part, your tunnel lathered in your arousal made easy passage for his manhood. Your mouth dropped open as he claimed every inch of you from the inside. 

A strangled gasp escaped your throat. It felt like the air was stolen from your lungs, only this time his hand wasn’t around your throat. The sheer size of him rendered you breathless.

“Look at that…” He murmured with adoration in his voice. He watched your face as all thoughts escaped you, becoming a panting and pliable doll for him.

“That’s really all you needed, sweetheart. You get Daddy’s cock inside of you and all the brattiness slips away, doesn’t it? It’s like your own kind of paci…” He murmured, chuckling under his breath when your walls fluttered around him.

He gave you no time to adjust, not that you really needed it. His thrusts were brutal, as promised. Your lips separated as a resounding cry forced its way from your chest. Finally, you got what you wanted. The euphoria was so strong, it was borderline painful.

With your face twisted, you tried to match his animalistic pounding. Soon, you found it too hard to keep up, so you arched your back and let him rail you. Clark found leverage with your hips, gripping them hard enough to cause bruises. He snarled, jaw clenching as his skin smacked against yours.

Your pussy gushed around the thick intrusion invading it. You could hear it when you paused your sobbing to catch your breath. He shivered behind you, his lip curling up in a cocky snicker as you listened to the harmony between your bodies.

“Do you hear that, little girl? Your poor little princess pussy is crying, she feels so sorry. What about you, huh? Are you sorry for being a bad girl?” He gripped your face in one hand, turning your head towards him.

The look in his eyes almost made you cum. His gaze was demented, obviously amused by your dazed expression. Your mouth hung open as you panted. You mewled, your hole never escaped his harsh thrusting. 

“S-Sorry, Daddy! I’m sorry for being naughty! O-Oh, god!” You finished your sentence with a moan when he lifted one of your legs, holding it up to pound into you even deeper.

You trembled, your body feeling tight. The throbbing in your core accelerated to match your racing heart. You gasped, eyes rolling back in your skull.

He grabbed your throat and leaned forward to press his chest to your back. Your leg was forced higher, inevitability forcing him deeper. You squealed weakly, the sound was broken. He cooed at the noises you let out.

“You poor thing, Daddy sure has fucked you dumb. All you can do is whine and cry as I bust open that pretty cunt.” He hissed.

The filthiness of his words made your toes curl. Your walls involuntarily fluttered around his aching member. You gasped, the tingling in your core increasing.

“Please, please, I can’t. I can’t- M-Mm…” You whimpered frantically while pinching your eyes shut. It was becoming increasingly harder to hold on. You didn’t want to get into anymore trouble by cumming without his permission

“I know, sunshine. You’re so close, I can feel you clenching around me. Cum for me, little girl. Gush all over my fucking cock, you dirty whore.” He snarled, sending vibrations straight to your aching pussy.

You came with a loud sob, heat washing over you as his words pushed you over the edge. Your lips fell open, but you were oblivious to the sounds you were making. Your ears were ringing as you rode your orgasm.

Meanwhile, your husband chased his high with your convulsing pussy. Your sweet moans rang in his ears. His pace stuttered for only a moment before he bottomed out and painted your cervix white. You shuddered in sync with him, his seed hot inside your walls. Clark bucked his hips, making sure to give you all he had as his balls jerked upwards.

He eventually stopped his movements, resting inside you. You could hear him exhale as you stayed bent over the counter, still catching your breath. The sensation of his hands rubbing up and down your sides relaxed you, making you give a satisfied smile.

He chuckled, his hand coming up to stroke your cheek. All traces of anger were gone from his perfectly sculpted face.

“Thank you for that, sunshine. I really needed it.” He hummed as you cooed and nuzzled his palm.

“Glad to help, Daddy.” You preened.

“You still need a real punishment for saying such bad words…” He trailed off as dragged himself out of your tender core. Both of you moaned.

With your legs spread wide, he pulled your cheeks apart, giving him a perfect view of your creampie. He growled with a playful smirk.

“How about a bath for the messy girl and then an early bedtime with Daddy. I’m not done with you just yet.” He chuckled and spanked you lightly on the behind, causing you to jump, more of his cum slipping out of you. 

You giggled, bending back up to book it towards the bedroom half naked. He chased after you with a grin that told you were in for a long night of “punishment”.

******

Taglist: @sunshine-with-daisy @leigh70 @islacharlotte @lysarria @kebabgirl67 @pandaxnienke @identity2212 @rach2602

#clark kent x reader #clark kent x you #clark kent x y/n #daddy!clark kent x reader #clark kent fanfic #clark kent imagine #henry cavill characters #clark kent #anon request #masterlist #clark kent smut

[dionvsian]

theodore nott meeting the hogwarts cool girl !!

theodore nott x fem!reader (she/her pronouns)

warnings: reader smokes cigarettes (srry if it makes you uncofortable!).

little note: back to writing! i used to have a blog here and i made the dumbest decision to delete it (i'll forever miss you timothée chalamet's fake instagram posts)

reblogs are appreciated 😁

“are you always this late?” he looked down, studying your face. You could see him taking in every single detail. as he did so, he lifted an eyebrow and waited for your reply. a small smirk played with the corner of his mouth. the kind of smirk you see someone do when they feel they are superior towards you. he did not know your name, at least not yet.

your silence caused him to continue: “I am theo. and you are?"

"I'm y/n"

"pleased to meet you y/n. my father always said that a name should mean something. it should reflect the person being named"

"i'm not really sure what my name means, but i hope is something nice!"

"are you a pure blooded witch?"

"yep" you say nodding

he seems satisfied with your answer. as if you somehow passed a test without even knowing it. he holds his hand out and introduces himself with a slight bow.

"i would say you look like an angel from heaven, but you look more like some punk girl who has trouble getting to class on time"

"i wasn't planning on going to class rn"

“oh! uhm, that can get you into trouble. you know.” he says. then he adds: “are you always so bold? it’s kind of cute.”

"i'm not bold, i'm just me"

he lets out a chuckle. "it’s the same thing. I’m guessing you are just very confident in yourself, hm?” he tilts his head a little and looks down at you. “it’s not a bad quality, and I suppose it makes for a good quality of a friend, don’t you think?”

"yeah maybe"

“you are not the quiet type, I bet. you are the one who likes to get things done.” he smiles, and leans in close to you. "you would do anything to achieve your goal. you must be one of the most popular girls at school. i bet many boys try to ask you out.” and he waits for you to respond. there is a glint in his eye as he stares at you, studying you.

a soft blush spreads on your cheeks "maybe... do you want to join them?" you say flirtatious

he smiles and leans closer, he is just a few inches away from you. you can feel the heat of his breath coming from his lips as he smiles.

“maybe I do.”

he waits for you to respond, just looking at your face, smiling. he is amused at the way you're blushing. but you cannot tell what the reason for that is. does he find you attractive? or does he find you a fool? he seems to be enjoying this a little too much, as you cannot tell what the outcome of this conversation will be.

you look up at him, since he is a bitt taller but you only gives a satisfied smirk

he is enjoying this attention he thinks. he leans in even closer to you and whispers in your ear.

"what are you thinking about right now?”

you let out some of the air that was inside your lungs "to be honest, I was thinking of smoking some cigarettes and painting my nails"

"you’re a naughty girl then. do you smoke cigarettes often?" he asks this in a way that implies he actually cares about the answer to the question. as if smoking cigarettes is a bad thing. or it's not?

"yeah, but don't tell anyone, ok? it will be our secret"

he seems amused by your response. he smiles and whispers again. this time his voice is even quieter

“a secret.” he whispers the last word and he has this smile on his face that says it is not a normal secret. the look on his face gives her the impression he thinks of something not entirely appropriate. “how many cigarettes are you planning to smoke today alone?”

"3? i'm not really sure"

again, he gives you this amused smile, and it seems he is actually a bit impressed. he is not used to seeing someone not care about the rules like she does.

“well, they say you gotta try everything once. you must get into trouble a lot. aren’t you afraid of detention?”

"no, plus I never get caught anyways". you say and smile for him "do you smoke?"

he seems surprised at the question. he shakes his head and says. “no, I have never smoked. my father makes sure i take care of my health. but he doesn’t say anything about my friends. I suppose you would have to hide it from him?” “how does it feel to smoke? will it feel good to try it for first time?”

"I don't want to be a bad influence for you" you chuckle "so I won't answer"

he seems to actually be thankful. as if you just saved him from doing something bad.

"thank you. If I start smoking today. I’s your fault though!” he laughs. then he asks. “what else do you do that is bad? or am I the only person that deserves to know about this side of you?”

he seems curious and even though the smile on his face remains as teasing as ever. you can see the look on his face is genuine. as if he actually wants to know about you more.

"talking about bad habits isn't exactly a good way to get to known someone new"

he laughs again. you notice how good his laugh is. he seems to do it a lot lately. he leans in again. you can smell his cologne when you get this close. “so, you are afraid I might judge you or something?”

he gives you a playful look and then adds: “i already said you were cute. so being a little naughty, does not make you any less cute." he says this playfully, and you can see that smile on his face again. he seems to enjoy teasing you.

you back on a wall of the corridor "it will affect your impression of me" but your heart skips a beat when he calls you cute

he seems to be enjoying the way you are backing up against the wall. as he can still clearly see just how pretty you are. he smiles at you, this time you can feel he is being genuine about the compliment. he gets closer to you though. he really thinks he is in charge here doesn't he?

“well, it only makes me want to know more about you. a girl who smokes cigarettes and isn't afraid of trouble... is a very rare breed these days.” he looks you up and down again. but this time with pure admiration.

"why don't you tell me what are y thinking abt?"

"you really are interested in me aren’t you?” he laughs after saying this. h thinks for a few seconds. he seems to be contemplating whether or not to disclose his thoughts to you.

"fine, I’ll tell you my thoughts. but you better not tell anyone else. I don’t want to lose my reputation.” he takes a deep breath. you can see he is nervous, and he is blushing a little.

he leans in closer and whispers in your ear "i’m wondering if you have ever kissed anyone before.”

he waits for you to respond, the same look on his lips. you sense a bit of smugness in his voice, as if he is convinced you have never kissed anyone before.

"of couse i did".

he seems surprised, and gives you a look. it’s the look a person gives you, when they know they are not in charge. you just gained a lot of power and superiority over him just now.

"what about you? have you ever kissed someone?"

he smiles, his cheeks are red now, and his whole face is blushing.

"y-yea I have.” he says it as if it’s difficult for him to admit it. your response seemed to have knocked him off his feet. his eyes are fixed to the floor, as if he is trying to decide what to do next.

you decide to shoot your shot being flirtatious"do you wanna kiss me?"

he looks up and seems shocked. he blushes even more as you say this, his cheeks are as red as a beet now. your confidence has made him completely speechless. he whispers so only you can hear his voice, while also pulling you closer into him. "may I?”

"yeah"

he leans in and gently kisses you on the lips. It’s sweet and gentle but very passionate. you notice just how soft his lips are.he is blushing as you kiss, and so do you. his lips are soft and smooth, you feel them against yours and you find the experience very calming and pleasant.

you place your hand on his cheek and they get even redder, as he continues to hold his lips against yours. he enjoys the kiss very much.

he breaks the kiss after a bit and looks at you. "that was nice.” a broad smile was on his lips. he looks so happy and full of life. you can see all the tension fall away as his shoulders slowly relax.

"well, i have to go to class now"youi say and unlean from the wall" see you" and you start walking away

"wait.” he calls out when you are already half way on your way to the potions class. "you are not telling anyone are you?”he still has that smile on his face and you can see that he wants to continue this conversation. he seems hooked to knowing more about you. He is obsessed. he wants to know what that "cool girl" energy of yours looks like, and how far you are willing to take things with him.

"of course not. i dont wanna be seen with the spoiled playboy theodore nott" you say and get into your classroom, not giving him the chance to say anything else.

he watches you leave. he is completely flabbergasted and speechless. he is not used to girls treating him like this. he has not noticed this side of you. theo is completely in love now. you are beautiful and mysterious in his eyes. he feels like he got a peek behind the curtains. a private performance.

he watches you leave and then continues to the potions classroom. he is lost in his thoughts, trying to piece together why you acted in the way you just did. you are not like any other girl he knows in Hogwarts. and he wants to know more.

#theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x you #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott x fem!reader #theo nott #theo nott x reader #theo nott x y/n #theo nott x you #theo nott x fem!reader #hogwarts #cool girl #alexa chung #lorenzo zurzolo #harry potter #theodore nott imagines #theo nott imagines #theodore nott fluff #theo nott fluff #coolgirl!reader

[radiowon]

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 OOPS!..?

—- in which Niki makes a huge mistake.

Syn: After reaching 18, Niki learns he's an alpha and is still getting used to the idea and Because he can't control his emotions, he accidentally marks you.

g: fluff | p: Alpha Niki x omega fem! Reader | w: 1.8k | warn: cursing | Niki is clumsy and reader is in a Constant state of anger and panic 80% of the time | like 50% proof read soz

“Why are you looking at me like I’m a peice of stinking shit”

You eye the male in front of you intensely searching for any indication of an answer as he furrows his eyebrows face twisting in distaste.

“Hello?.. Earth to Niki I’m talking to you!” The raise in voice snaps Niki out of his trance he clears his throat awkwardly “your scent.. i don’t like it” you frown taking some offence to his statement “you sayinf I stink 24/7? Ouch could have just said you hate my guts and called it a day” Niki waves his hands franticly feeling immediate regret at his choice of words.

“No no.. not like that you normally smell fine but now you smell really weird and it bothers me” you sigh as you pinch a bit of your sleeve taking a wiff “I smell fine to m-“where did you go who where you with” you fold your arms clicking your tounge a few times “what are you? My father” you laugh a little covering your mouth “Heeseung needed some help setting up his science presentation for next period I was helping him why do you ask?” Unknown to your ears Niki growls subconsciously as he steps closer to you grasping your shoulders tightly.

“Come with me” before you had a chance to protest Niki takes advantage of his height and strength manhandling you as he drags you to a secluded area behind the school. When you finally arrive, you have to gather all your might to escape his hold while massaging your shoulder from the searing pain caused by his nails. “Care to explain why you just dragged me here with out my consent!? Gooooosh The least you could do is handle me with care.. I’m not an alpha like you” You part your lips to speak again, but as soon as you meet his gaze, you quickly close them again.

His eyes seemed dark, as they usually had, yet something about them in this particular moment made you feel nervous and caused your stomach to grow uneasy.

“Uh..Niki? W-“I c..can’t take this any longer!”He trapped you against the cold, hard brick wall in a matter of seconds, and the impact scratched your back. He growled loudly, causing you to become anxious as soon as his nose reached the hollows of your neck and travelled all the way to your collarbone. “W..woah Niki what are you doing! Stop it!” You try your best to push him off but his grip on your waist prevented you making any moves to leave.

You were afraid because you had no idea what he was doing to you or what was going on. If you had paid more attention in history class, you may have learned more about alphas and been able to comprehend the current situation. you mentally cursed yourself. Despite this, you persisted and tried to get free by even kicking him, but he didn't even move an inch. It seemed as though he was immune to pain

Before long, the only sensation you experienced was a stinging agony as Niki's fangs briefly touched your neck. The surge that sets off your fight-or-flight response, making you push him right away. You cringe at the ache that suddenly envelops you as you clutch your neck to where he bit you in shock. You slowly glance up at Niki in horror, his expression exactly matching yours.

After staring at one another in silence reality hits you like a truck.

“Don’t tell me you did what I think you did..”Niki raises his hands to his face, hiding behind them as he continuously shakes his head. You approach him, yanking his hands away and firmly grabbing his tie to bring him down to your level. He gulps lips trembling “I’m s..sorry I didn’t realise I was..” he stops closing his mouth immediately avoiding eye contact as he looks down to your shoes.

You tug at his tie causing him to choke out an “ow” looking into your eyes once more “you were what? Finish the sentence” he sighs closing his eyes before opening them again “your s..scent it was bothering me I couldn’t stand it so I wanted to clean it off you t..then I somehow…accidentallymayhavemarkedyou” you let go pulling away slightly

Even though he is the alpha, Niki stares at you anxiously, fearful of how you might respond. Your anger worried him a greatly.

You cover your face with your hands and soon find yourself laughing. Niki gives you a perplexed and shocked gaze. You turn to face him with a smile, and he hesitantly smiles back. “come here” He shakes his head, and you click your fingers to encourage him to come forward. When he does, you welcome him with a searing, stinging slap across the face that is guaranteed to leave a lasting mark. He clutches his hurt cheek.

“How can you be so careless! Do you have any idea what you have done the situation you have placed not me but yourself also!?” He looks down guilt evidence on his face. “Do you hate me Niki?” He shakes his head eyebrows raising“what! No!” You shake your head “clearly you do don’t you remember how strict my father is! What do you think he’s going to do when he sees his daughter as been marked I’m finshed!” You sigh loudly as you walk back to the wall sinking down to the floor.

“Um.. just hide it I don’t know! Then he won’t see it and you will be fine right?” You shoot him a glare causing him to close his mouth “oh yes! What a genius I’ll hide it behind all my hoodies and sweat gallons of buckets in the fucking summer” You wriggle away from him as he approaches you slowly, frowning like an idiot.

“No do me and yourself a favour and stay away who knows what you will do next” he frowns “I want to help you I want to make this right and your..attitude isn’t making this easy” Raising your brows, you support yourself so that you may stand up again. “oh really! My attitude? Yeah sorry should I be rejoicing that I’ve been marked without my consent by a clumsy dork like you? I’m sorry alpha should i be thanking you? For fucking what!” He growls lowly your anger radiating off onto him.

“I’m not clumsy or a dork I just made a mistake! I just want you to stop attacking me for it I know what I did and I’m sorry why do you always have to be such a bitch when things don’t go your way!”

Silence and the silence was loud

“Oh no.. I’ve made the alpha angry” you pout stepping closer to him “are you gonna bark at me? Rip me to shreds? Since I’m such a bitch I must deserve it right” you step closer poking his arm as you continue to taunt him. Niki huffs growling loudly “shut up stop it” you keep poking his arm Tuanting him further “Nu huh you marked me now this is what you will have to put up with for the rest of your life”He growls once more, covering more than half of your face with his large hands as he covers your mouth.

“Stop..talking” he sighs again “I think we are both very stressed right now and need to calm down especially you .. your emitting to much right now and I can’t take it so just chill and let’s fix this..please?” You sigh and nod slowly as he gently retraces his hand. Remorse is one of the feelings that washes over you.

He was correct. You really did need to cool down and give him the benefit of the doubt since, having only recently been confirmed as an alpha, he truly had no idea what he was doing. With a mumbled apology, you press your face into his chest and reach out to wrap your arms around his waist. His fury vanishes in an instant as he smiles and draws you closer to his hug while inhaling your scent.

“I’m sorry to for being careless then we wouldn’t be in this mess but I am and will make this right” you hum closing your eyes as you snuggle closer “ we can sort this out together niki”

.

.

.

It had been a week since then and whomp whomp you hadn’t sourted it out of anything your still stuck with his mark. But maybe you were thankful for it in a way as somehow the bond it installed helped you understand each other a bit more and drew you closer. This prevented some obnoxious alphas from bothering you—a mental note you wanted to thank Niki for afterwards.

“Maybe it’s not all that bad you know.. the marking sitch” he looks at you shocked at your words “really? I thought you hated it and wanted it gone by all means” you shake your head “well I did then but now I guess I’ve come to terms with the fact it may be like this forever” he hums “and I wouldn’t have it any other way..” Niki shrinks away from you, bewildered, as you approach him more slowly on the bench.

You move towards him in the same direction, and he moves away in response. This pattern continues until he is caught in the bench's corner. You look at him, irritated. “ way to go break a girls hurt you could have just said the feeling is not mutual ouch” Niki raises a brow confused “huh!? What I don’t understand what are you talking about” you sigh shaking your head “read between the lines! What do you think I meant by I wouldn’t have it any other way or when I moved closer to you!” He merely gives a blank stare in response, blinking a few times and cocking his head slightly to one side.

“I like you Niki that’s what I’m trying to get at but you’re just plain stupid” You move back, making space, and grumble, feeling a little downtrodden. To your disbelief, though, Niki grabbed the edge of your skirt and pulled you back in towards him. His shy smile graces his features as he turns to face you. “I’m sorry and I l..like you too” When you turn to face him in shock, he looks as far away as he can, masking his emotions, but the stark red colour of his ears gives you the additional confirmation you need.

You lean in giving him a kiss on the cheek. He turns to you slowly with a cheeky smile. “Does this mean your gonna mark me back now or..” he teases wriggling his eyebrows at the suggestion

“Woah there I didn’t say anything about that yet..”

—- a/n : first post ahhahahsbsbssjsjsj I literally saw this Niki pic on Pinterest and this idea was somehow brought from it. Anyways I hope u liked it 🫶

#enhypen niki #niki x reader #niki #niki fluff #ni ki enhypen #niki fanfic #niki oneshots #niki drabbles #enhypen #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen fic #enhypen fluff #enha x reader #enha #niki x y/n #niki x you #enha fluff #fanfic #radiowon

[gyuwoncheol]

Vantage Point | Chapter 5

Status: Ongoing

Pair: Mingyu x f.reader

Genre: College au. BFFs to FWB trope. Fluff, Humor, Angst, Smut [chapters with smut will be indicated and will contain the necessary warnings]

Summary: Pulling off the “No Strings Attached” arrangement with his best-friend-turned-best-friend-with-benefits was easy, but when a new condition is added onto the mix, Mingyu didn’t realise just how much he held onto you when you finally let go.

Chapter Warnings: SMUT. 18+ only (MDNI) oral (f. receiving), fingering (f. receiving), lots of making out, bulge kink, virgin sex, protected sex, big dick! Gyu, pussy drunk! Gyu, breast/nipple play, nail scratching, marking, use of pet names (baby, princess, good girl). Please let me know if i missed something. Not thoroughly proofread.

WC: 2.5k

Author’s Note: first smut of the series!!! otherwise known as the one that effectively opens y/n’s world to just how good sex with her best friend can be 👀

Series Masterlist

Prev | Next

This is a flashback. Occurs right after chapter 4, and a week before the events of Chapter 1. (It’s also the last flashback chapter for a while).

“So when do you wanna sta–“

“Now,” you interrupt, lunging at Mingyu and kissing him fervently. He’s caught by surprise but immediately responds back when he feels the soft cushion of your lips and your arms around his neck.

“Eager, are we?” You feel him smirk.

You break apart and glare at him, “just don’t wanna deal with the awkward pre-conversation.”

Your best friend agrees and pulls you back in, tongue darting and swirling in your mouth. Mingyu’s hands are steady on your neck and on your waist whilst yours roam around freely, sneaking in below his white shirt and running over his toned abdomen. He sighs in content and he feels you smile through the kiss.

All of a sudden, your feet leave the floor and Mingyu is wrapping them around his hips, “hold tight,” he cautions before sucking on the column of your throat and earning the first moan he’s ever heard from you. It’s music to his ears and immediately, he feels his dick stir.

“Like that, baby?”

“Shut up!” You scold.

Mingyu is smug but he giggles anyway and if you weren’t just afraid to get dropped, you’d smack his head.

Your hot makeout session resumes until your thrown on your bed, bouncing a little bit from the motion. You were about to pull your shirt off when Mingyu finished unbuttoning his shirt, exposing his sculpted tan chest. It’s not like this is your first time to see it, but it’s definitely the first time the sight of it got your panties soaked.

“It’s rude to stare, princess,” your best friend teases and it snaps you out of your revelry, hands fisting the hem of your shirt again to pull it off your body.

“Fuck, no bra?” The tall man exclaims in excitement.

You shrug, “I’m at home. Why should I?”

Mingyu says nothing, just simply crawls towards you, eyes never leaving your breasts as he lets his hands slowly squeeze the soft mounds of flesh.

“It’s rude to stare, Gyu,” you shoot back the same line he said awhile ago but all arrogance is immediately lost when Mingyu rolls your hardened nipples between his thumb and index finger.

“So reactive,” a devilish smile paints your best friend’s face.

You have no time to respond as his soft lips latch onto your other breast, wet tongue licking the perky nub. The sensation is overwhelming but in the best way possible. Mingyu eventually returns to sucking your collarbones and when he finally makes his way back to your lips, you feel his hands pulling down the shorts you were wearing.

He pulls back, eyes fixated on the way your baby pink panties are sticking to your folds.

“Shit babe, you’re already so wet.”

He wastes no time, large hands tugging your underwear and exposing your throbbing cunt. You saw him lick his lips like a starved man presented with a seven course meal and it only got you wetter. Mingyu looks up at you as he holds your thighs apart and lick a bold stripe along your pussy. You release a shaky breath and let your head fall back and eyes close at the feeling. Your best friend continues his assault, lips enclosing in on your clit and giving it a harsh suck before completely flicking it with his tongue.

“Fuck, Gyu,” you groan, legs threatening to close from the delicious stimulation of your sensitive bud.

You’ve always heard from your friends that Mingyu was known among the ladies he’s hooked up with to be great at oral but now that you’re experiencing it, you finally understand why. The man was skilled with his tongue and knew how to balance harsh sucks with soft kisses.

“O-oh my g-god!” You exclaim when his tongue darts into your hole and slurps your juices. Fuck, you thought as you felt your best friend smile against your pussy, something you never thought would happen.

“Who knew you’d be so fucking sweet,” Mingyu’s mouthand chin were covered in your juices and he couldn’t complain even if he tried. He was fully making out with your pussy and your eyes simply rolled to the back of your head every time his nose nudged your clit while his tongue explored your sopping hole.

“Gyu, fuck! I’m close!” You fist the sheets with one hand and pull on Mingyu’s hair with the other.

“Cum for me, princess,” he growls and blows cool air on your folds before diving back in and the sudden chill breaks the wall for you. Your orgasm gushes through you and Mingyu takes it all in, muttering about how sweet you taste as he lets you come down from your high.

“That… was…,” you stammer.

Mingyu comes up to your face, “Amazing? Yeah, I know.”

“Yeah,” you couldn’t help but agree, trying to level your breathing as he steals a kiss on your lips, tasting yourself on his tongue. It’s only when you feel his dick against your leg that you realize he’s already managed to strip off his briefs. He’s sucking on the spot right behind your ear and you find yourself clawing at his back.

“Princess, I asked you a question,” He calls your attention, hand firmly cupping your chin.

You didn’t even realize he had spoken to you, “huh?”

There’s a wicked look behind Mingyu’s smile, one that screamed of pride from how fucked out you looked just from his mouth alone. “Marks or no marks?”

“That’s fine… but not where it’s visible,” you confirm and Mingyu grins like a kid and then dives back down to your chest, biting and sucking intently.

“Okay, and safe word?”

“Hmm?”

“You need a safe word,” Mingyu clarifies and you gulp hard.

“Uhmm… popcorn.”

Mingyu let’s a boyish giggle at your choice of word, “popcorn?”

“Hey! No judging. And I was craving it earlier!”

“Okay, popcorn it is,” your bestfriend declares before getting back to where he left off.

Your head spins at the feeling of his cock against your thigh and while you can’t wait to have it inside you, it begins to dawn on you just how large it is. Mingyu’s cock isn’t only long, it’s thick, and as you watch your best friend roll on a condom on his hardened member, your pussy is clenching and your heart is pounding.

“Mingyu, wait,” you stop him when he begins to crawl back above you.

Your best friend follows and observes the way your eyes nervously look at him and he does his best to show you he’s listening for whatever you’re about to say.

Embarrassment starts to inhabit every fiber of your being and you can just feel the heat radiate off your cheeks but it’s now or never and if you were gonna do this, your best friend deserved to know.

“Gyu, you’re my first.”

“No way,” Mingyu’s mouth is slightly agape at your revelation, “but… I thought… what about with Dae?”

“We fooled around, but… we never really went all the way,” you reply and Mingyu hears how small your voice has gotten since the confession. He’s always thought you and your ex were active so this news definitely surprised him.

“Do you still want this?” The gigantic man clears his voice.

Your eyes meet his and it’s a look Mingyu has given you many times, the one that wants to make sure you’re okay, “Do you?” You ask back.

“That doesn’t matter right now y/n,” he calls you by your real name to show he means business, “I can always get off on my own, but I’m not about to force you into something for the first time if you don’t want it. We can stop–“

“I still want this, Gyu,” you declare with a hand on his bicep, “You’re the only one I can trust this with.”

A smile reappears on Mingyu’s face and you mirror it to him. A soft peck is planted on your cheek the way your best friend always does when he sees you and that’s how you know you’re truly safe with him right now.

“I’ll be gentle, don’t worry. And please, use your safe word if at any time you want to stop, okay?”

You were expecting Mingyu to start sticking it in when you gave him affirmation but instead you feel his fingers tap on your pussy. The next few minutes are spent with his mouth back on your clit while his digits effectively open you up.

“Shit, Gyu! That feels s-so good!” Your grip on his scalp tightens when both his index and middle finger curl inside you the exact same time his lips suction on your bud. You hear him reply but it’s all muffled as he refuses to detach from your pussy. You writhe when you feel him add a third finger in and the stretch is suddenly so much more. You knew it was only your best friend’s way of prepping you for his huge cock but with this alone, your second orgasm is already approaching fast.

Between the way the pads of his fingers rub on your walls deliciously and the way his mouth sloppily makes out with your pussy, you’re simply in cloud nine. Your cunt gushes out your juices with no shame and Mingyu is happily and greedily drinking it all up.

“Fuck baby, you’ve so much to give.”

You give out an incoherent reply and Mingyu laughs, kissing you on your mouth once again. It’s hot and heavy and it takes every single inch of self control for Mingyu not to just spear you with his dick. But Mingyu knows, he is your bestest friend before anything else, the duty to look out for you will always come first.

“Cam, i’ll ask you one more time, are you sure about this?”

Your hands come up to cup his face, gaze meeting his serious ones, “I’m sure Gyu. Take me.”

A long drawled out moan rips out your throat when the tall man pushes his bulbuous head in your cunt. Already, you can tell the three fingers that were once inside you don’t even do it justice. The stretch burns and you already feel the sting in your eyes but Mingyu did as he said, he moved ever so gently no matter how agonizing it was for him.

“Fuck Cam, you’re so tight!” He hisses, dick getting even harder than he thought possible. It’s been way too long since Mingyu’s had sex with a virgin and he forgot just how fucking euphoric it could feel.

“So fucking big,” you cry out, nails scratching at his back to find some semblance of relief. “A-ah! Gyu!”

“Shh, it’s okay baby. I got you, I got you,” your best friend soothed before drowning you in a searing kiss that distracted you from the pain.

It takes a while— a long while— but when he finally bottoms out, you’re panting for air and tears have stained your cheeks. You’re unsure how long it took but as if in a blink of an eye, all the plain slowly morphs into pleasure and then you’re begging for Mingyu to move.

He drags his cock up until the tip and then slams back in that you jolt forward on the bed. You hear him laugh at the motion before securing his hands tightly on your waist to prevent it from happening again. Your senses are now heightened more than ever, every single bulge of his biceps are obvious under your touch and the vein on the underside of his cock is prominent against your walls and it’s simply driving you insane. It’s a mess of tongues and teeth, panted breaths, and skin on skin, not to mention your incessant moaning and whimpering.

“So. Fucking. Tight.” Mingyu punctuates each word with deep thrusts that hit the spot you need him most every time and it’s enough to make you see stars and clench around him. “You feel so good, princess. Gripping me like a vice.”

“S-so f-full,” you shake as Mingyu continues to abuse your hole.

He reaches for your hand and slides it against your own belly as he momentarily stills to make you feel the bulge caused by his dick, “feel that, baby? That’s why you’re so full.”

On any other day, you would’ve so easily wiped that smirk off his face, but right now as you are impaled on his cock, it’s an impossible feat.

“I-i’m so close, Gyu,” you whine when you feel his fingers circle your clit.

“Cum for me please. I need you to cum one more time.”

He grinds down on you, “cmon, be my good girl.”

Mingyu mentally takes note at the way you clench hard at the nickname, not at all surprised you have a praise kink.

It’s game over for you the moment he lifts one leg higher and squeezes your ass, the new angle making his cock slam right into your gspot and opening the floodgates of your third orgasm. A silent yell releases from you and when Mingyu can barely move from the way your pussy locks down on him, it triggers his own orgasm, spilling into the latex wrapped around his cock.

There’s a beat of silence before your best friend collapses beside you, but not without pulling you to his side.

Your mind is racing and every nerve ending in your body feels alive, but you also can’t help and think you really just lost your virginity, to none other than your best friend. You suddenly feel like wanting to cry yet you’re unsure why, you’re not at all sad. In fact, you’re happy.

“You good?” Mingyu calls your attention, hair disheveled and a faint blush painted on his cheeks.

“Yeah,” you nod, “just a bit overwhelmed.”

“Did I hurt you?”

“No Gyu, but ask me that again tomorrow as I wobble across campus.”

Yet another proud smirk makes its way on your best friend’s face and this time, you finally manage to shove him away. Mingyu laughs but proceeds to walk to your ensuite bathroom to dispose of his used condom. When he comes back, a washcloth is gently wiping away between your legs.

“You know…” you begin, propping yourself up on your elbows to look at him, “I didn’t actually think you’d say yes.”

Mingyu looks at you for a while, “to be honest? Me neither.”

“Yet here we are.”

“Here we are, indeed.”

Your given an oversized shirt after Mingyu cleans you up and lets you pee while he pulls on his briefs before climbing back on your bed. “I’m sorry your first wasn’t with someone you love, I know you’re still that kind of girl somehow.”

You laugh at the boy’s apology, both touched and amused at his sincerity, “ehh.. maybe just a bit. But that’s fine. At least it’s with someone I trust. And who’s to say I don’t love you?” You poke at Mingyu’s cheek as you say the last few words with a yawn.

“Yeah, as a best friend.”

Another yawn comes out of your mouth, “still. Love is love.”

“Okay, sleepyhead. Whatever you say..”

“Mhm,” you attempt to reply, eyes closing, brain drifting into slumber land and the last thing you feel is a heavy arm wrap around your middle.

“Goodnight, Cam.”

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