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mypoisonedvine · 3 years

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𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭-𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐞 || helmut zemo, bucky barnes and sam wilson x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : your sugar daddy boyfriend is finally out of prison and he brought a few friends to show you off to.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : just over 4k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : smut (foursome/group sex, oral m receiving, spitroast; sliiiight dubcon???), established zemo x reader, sugar daddy relationship, ‘sir’ kink, ‘daddy’ kink, pussy spanking, one regular spank, orgasm control, overstimulation, creampie, a bit of cockwarming, exhibitionism, possessiveness (kinda? but also not at all lmao it’s hard to explain), a bit of degradation but plenty of praise as well, subtle cuckolding but without the usual power dynamics there, shitty reconstructed “sokovian” (I wrote it in the latin alphabet but the cyrillic and translations are at the end), unexpected and unnecessary fluff, very subtle angst (basically all in a flashback anyways)

You were needlessly anxious as you waited for him to arrive. It had been your own idea to wait in the jet, and yet you spent every other second glancing out the tiny window, desperate for a glance of the man you missed so dearly.

If someone had told you all those years ago, when this arrangement first began, how easily he would have you wrapped around his finger… you couldn’t have believed them. It’s just about the money, you would’ve told them, but you would’ve been impossibly wrong.

For a lot of women in this sort of situation, it really was just about the money; likewise, for a lot of men in his situation, it was just about the sex. But the two of you had something entirely unique, nearly indescribable in fact, that very few could ever understand. In the beginning it became clear to you that he was more in need of a companion than a lover or girlfriend, specifically. He was still grieving his wife, still devoted to her completely, but lonely right to his core… angry, even, at the prospect of a life without his family. You were a shoulder to cry on, first and foremost.

You thought maybe he enjoyed spending money on you because it was his way to protect you, in a way he felt he had failed to protect his family before.

And it was you that fell for him first, for his passion and his kindness before his riches or looks. Just when you feared that he’d only ever see you as a status symbol or dress-up doll, he returned your affections in spite of his guilt at first and the two of you were inseparable ever since.

Except, of course, when you were separated, and he was imprisoned, and you were left on your own again. Not that spending his money wasn’t fun or anything, but his loneliness was more sympathetic with each night you spent in that massive bed by yourself, wanting just to feel the warmth of him beside you again.

So, it should be understandable why you were so on edge in anticipation of his arrival. Your painted fingernails toyed with the hem of the dress you remembered he liked on you most— the silk one that barely covered your legs and was only held up by absurdly thin straps crossing at your back.

The night he bought it for you was clear in your mind like it was only yesterday; his voice in your ear telling you how he couldn’t resist taking such a thoughtful, intelligent woman like yourself and dressing you up like a mindless drolja… or ‘slut’ as it might be said in English. Just remembering the way he said things like that sent a shiver down your spine as strong as really hearing it, your thighs clenching together on top of the plush leather seat.

Just as you thought you might go crazy waiting for him, you saw the car pull up— your Helmut at the wheel and his two associates in tow— and your heart soared.

Longer than all the years apart combined was the minute you spent waiting to descend the jet’s staircase, hoping to meet him on the taxiway at the exact right moment. You made sure the jewelry around your wrists and neck was laying just right before finally making your appearance.

The way he looked up at you as you started to walk down towards him… it wasn’t so different from the way he’d looked at you through the glass for the past few years, really, but it felt different. He certainly looked different to you, without the prisoner’s uniform and looking rather imposing with that massive coat instead.

You were careful to still walk slowly, since you were wearing stilettos and all, even when you wanted more than anything to run to him and jump into his arms. Instead, you came face to face with him, loving that confident smirk which never seemed to leave his expression, and slipped your arms around his fur-adorned neck.

“Dobrodošla nazad, ljubavi,” you hummed, pressing your lips to his and almost letting out a squeal of surprise when he immediately slipped his tongue into your mouth, kissing you aggressively as his gloved hands gripped you at the waist.

He was rarely so bold, but then again he had been alone in prison for so long with only your words to try to satisfy him. As much as you cherished being in his arms again, you also got the impression that this wasn’t just about making up for lost time— if that were true, he would’ve skipped the kiss entirely and taken you in the back of his car the moment he saw you. No, this was a show of dominance, and not only for your benefit; that was clear when one of the men with him cleared his throat loudly and Helmut still didn’t stop.

But that was very much like him: he was never finished with you until he was satisfied, and not a moment sooner. His power over you was so effortless because you didn’t mind at all being his plaything… so much so that it was you leaning in for more when he pulled back, making him laugh softly.

“Did you miss me, lutka?” he purred, and you nodded as you bit your lip slightly.

“Always, Helmut,” you nodded, finally taking a moment to look away from him and at the visibly uncomfortable men at his side. “I heard you freed him,” you said to the man you knew to be James Barnes, “thank you.”

“I’m still not over that,” the other— Sam, as you’d heard— added with a scoff.

“Come on, darling, let’s board the jet and we can talk there,” Helmut suggested, and you nodded as you turned to let them follow.

Of course, you couldn’t be totally sure, but you were pretty confident you could feel three pairs of eyes on your ass as you climbed the stairs. Honestly, with how short the dress was, there was a risk of your thong being exposed as well, exactly the sort of almost-subtle teasing your Baron loved the most.

Once inside, Helmut showed James and Sam to their seats, and took his own as he instantly pulled you into his lap. You caught the other two men glancing to the empty fourth seat, knowing there was plenty of room for you two to stay apart, but could they really blame you after how long you’d been alone?

Throughout the takeoff, one of his strong hands rested comfortably on your crossed legs as the other held his glass of champagne, and Sam’s gaze was attached to the way his thumb gently stroked your thigh while James seemed to be doing his best to look literally anywhere else.

“I noticed you haven’t introduced us to your… friend…” Sam trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Oh, yes,” Helmut chuckled as if he actually forgot, “this is the woman who has been managing my estate in my unfortunate absence.”

“You’re trying to tell us this is your accountant?” James grumbled.

“She’s also my lover,” Helmut relented.

“Obviously,” Sam replied, unamused.

“She’s beautiful, no?” Helmut prompted as he ran his fingertips higher up your thigh, only glancing at the other men as he focused mainly on nuzzling against your neck.

“Yeah, the finest money can buy,” Sam quipped, earning a cold glare from you and your man.

“Are you with me for my money, draga?” Helmut asked you quietly as he planted a gentle kiss to the spot right where your neck met your shoulder. You smiled and shook your head, staring right at Sam’s nervous expression.

“No, sir,” you answered aloud, and the title clearly made both of the other men uncomfortable… if, perhaps, in different ways.

“Uncross your legs,” he demanded, though his tone was still soft, and you obeyed right away as he started to lightly move his touch between your thighs.

James began adjusting in his seat and never really stopped, tugging at his jeans in an obvious attempt to conceal the growing bulge between his legs, but you only laughed at his clear embarrassment.

“See how respectful she is?” he cooed his praise, addressing the other men but keeping his eyes on you. “I know exactly the words to make her obey to my every whim… James, you and her share that quality.”

The man sneered as you suppressed a giggle, squirming in Helmut’s lap impatiently.

“She’s loyal, too, unendingly dedicated,” he continued. “You know she visited me weekly in Munich, at the very least? Always by my side… like any good pet.”

A whimper escaped your throat at that term, your gut burning with need as he balanced praise and degradation effortlessly. You didn’t find it truly demeaning only because you loved being his plaything so much, and because you knew mutual respect was at the core of your relationship with him. But, still, it was nice to feel small when he was there to keep you safe.

James watched with a small snarl and Helmut slipped his hand into your panties, and Sam licked his lips but shifted his stare to your face instead, just as your eyes started to roll back and your head fell weakly on Helmut’s shoulder.

“And such a precious little pussy as well,” he added darkly, giving you a spank between your legs to make you choke on a squeal. “Sweet, delicate… much like a Turkish delight, but even more addictive.”

“Please, sir,” you whispered under your breath.

“You want more, don’t you? Tako očajno…” he chuckled. You nodded, already starting to soak through the lace and rock your hips. “You want to be fucked, yes?”

“Yes,” you moaned.

“Be polite and take care of our guests first, draga,” he encouraged, kissing your neck one more time before releasing you from his embrace.

Although you were most interested in being with the man you loved, you were happy to obey whatever he wished— and, frankly, sinking to your knees on the jet’s carpeted floor to crawl towards James wasn’t exactly lacking in its own appeal.

James’ eyes narrowed as Sam’s widened, and you sat up between the spread, denim-clad thighs as you blinked up at him and licked your lips.

He tensed up slightly as your hands delicately slid up his legs, his Adam's apple bobbing with a dry swallow when you grabbed his belt buckle and began to open it.

“You… you don’t have to…” he mumbled, apparently too distracted to finish his sentence.

“Yes I do,” you denied. “Because he told me to.”

Sam winced and looked away as you unzipped James’ fly and pulled his jeans and boxers down to expose his cock, already hard and leaking a bit from the tip. You smiled proudly, but chose not to tease him for his eagerness and instead just get right to work; you gripped him at the base and gave a few kitten licks over his shaft, savoring the taste of his precum and looking up at his expression that was equal parts shocked and sultry.

You only spent a moment suckling on the head before skipping right ahead and deepthroating him all the way to base.

“Oh, fuck,” James choked, reaching up grab the seat behind his head as his back arched, making you want to smile though you thankfully kept it down.

“Well-trained, isn’t she?” Helmut interjected proudly.

“Y-yeah,” he answered, his other hand grabbing your shoulder tightly as you began to bob your head.

Occasionally, in your peripheral, you caught Sam looking, and it made you wiggle your hips with the desire to rub your throbbing clit against the floor.

You got a chance to breathe whenever you pulled back to suck the head and stroke the rest with your hand, and in a few minutes you had already found all the little spots that made him moan the loudest, or made his legs quiver a bit by your sides.

“Stop,” Helmut instructed, and you were already starting to pull off when James hissed and grabbed your head to hold you down.

“N-no, please,” he blurted out.

“She’ll come back to you but Sam is looking rather lonely in the corner over there,” Helmut explained, and James hesitated but let you go. You wiped your lips and started to move towards Sam, but he shook his head.

“I don’t roll like that, man,” Sam explained, “I don’t want her doing it just because you said so.”

“Darling, won’t you tell us how badly you want to service your new friends?” Helmut challenged, and you swallowed nervously because you were a bit embarrassed to say too much and potentially anger him. But the sparkle in his eyes didn’t seem like he was leading you into a trap… even if the other two men were confident that was what it meant. “You find them attractive, don’t you?”

“Um, yes, sir,” you answered hesitantly, “I… saw them, and I wanted to know what their cocks looked like. And tasted like.”

Helmut smiled and leaned forward, giving you a spank of approval through your dress (which was riding up to show most of your butt anyways).

You looked at Sam expectantly. “May I please suck your cock, Mr. Wilson?”

His eyes darkened and you knew you were on the right track. “What happened to ‘sir’?” he asked coyly.

“I only call Helmut ‘sir,’” you explained, “but I could call you something else.”

His finger curled to encourage you to come closer and you crawled up to sit between his legs.

“Call me ‘daddy,’” he finally instructed, opening his belt and pants for you.

“Yes, daddy,” you nodded, keeping your mouth slack for him to push his cock into. You hummed as the head slid over your tongue, looking up at him as he bit his lip and thrust back into your throat.

“Shit, that’s good,” he whispered, guiding your head at the speed he wanted. “Who taught you how to suck cock so good, baby?”

Helmut raised his hand and James snorted.

Sam was a bit longer but he was still no challenge to swallow all the way down, and you heard him breathing through his teeth but let your eyes fall shut to focus on your work.

“Is this… how you treat all your guests?” Sam asked tensely between heavy breaths.

“Only those who are at the right place at the right time,” Helmut answered cryptically, but you happened to know this sort of occasion was incredibly rare. Although it might seem counterintuitive to some, this was his way to re-stake his claim over you, and after so much time apart apparently he felt he had a lot to prove. “Keep going, but don’t let him come,” another instruction echoed from behind you.

You pulled back to stroke Sam’s length while you croaked: “yes, sir.”

Helmut had you go back and forth for a while, keeping both men on edge and occasionally allowing you to stroke one while you sucked the other, your own need growing so quickly as you dreamed to have something inside you, anything really.

Obviously, he knew exactly how much having a cock down your throat made you wet and desperate. And he knew that such a taboo act of, in a certain sense, breaking fidelity with a man as he not only watched but commanded you to do it would get you right on the edge in no time.

He had gotten in your head so quickly after meeting you, memorized everything that made you tick, and not once had he forgotten.

“I-I’m close,” James warned as you sucked his head, making you slide the tip of your tongue over his slit before you took a break to suck his swollen balls into your mouth. “Fuck, can I come?”

“Not yet,” Helmut instructed sternly.

You felt him tug you back and into his lap suddenly, and he quickly yanked your dress down to expose your breasts to the men in front of you.

“Her tits are hard, no?” Helmut prompted them, and you watched them both nod as a warm hand reached around from behind you to tweak your hardened nipples. “Yes, she really loves to get on her knees and choke on cock. I’d let her do the same to me but I have greater plans for her…”

As if it weren’t obvious what those plans were, he pulled your skirt up to your waist as well, spreading your legs and pulling your flimsy panties aside.

“Is she wet?” he asked the men and they nodded again.

“Drenched,” Sam chimed in.

Helmut gave another spank to your clit as you shuddered, then rubbing slowly as if to soothe the sting. “I’ll teach you what happens when you get wet for another man, little girl,” Helmut growled against your ear, “not to mention two. And they’re Americans, do you have no shame?”

“I’m sorry, sir,” you whispered.

“No, you have nothing to be sorry for,” he corrected. “I love seeing you act like a whore all for me.”

You hadn’t even realized he’d taken his cock out of his trousers until you felt the thick tip of him prodding at your entrance. It was already a lot just by itself, but then you had these strangers staring at you and for some reason it only turned you on more.

That ‘some’ reason of course being that you loved your Baron taking ownership over you for anyone to see. Clearly, prison had given him much more creative ideas than just fucking on a balcony or against the glass of a window.

“Are you ready for me?” he asked in a hushed voice against your skin which seemed to be burning hot all of a sudden.

“Yes, sir,” you whispered.

It took a lot not to cry out as he pulled you down and filled you in one deep stroke, your nails digging into the leather of the chair’s armrests at either side. But more than the sting of pain it felt so perfect, so fundamentally right, and just after your gasp of shock was a sigh of relief.

He sighed along with you and let his forehead fall between your shoulder blades, clearly a bit overwhelmed at being inside you again for the first time in so long. “Draga...” he breathed, “not that I ever doubted… but you must have been faithful to me; you’re so tight, I know no one has touched you since I left.”

“Only you, sir, nobody but you,” you agreed breathlessly, eyes falling shut.

He kissed your back as he started to move your body on top of his, the hands at your waist tightening and tugging on the remaining fabric of your dress. “Tako dobro,” he hissed, “you feel so good, darling, you can’t imagine how long I spent dreaming of being inside you again.”

A tear rolled down your cheek, and it would be impossible to say for sure what caused it— a little bit of everything, really.

Opening your eyes and noticing the way they were staring at you, you leaned forward and took each of the other men’s hard cocks in your hands, stroking in time with the way you bounced your hips on top of Helmut’s.

The both of them had been on the edge for a bit too long, Sam already biting his lip as James thrust himself up into your palm.

“Fuck, please,” James moaned, “I need to come in your mouth.”

“Come closer then,” you breathed, watching him stand up and bring his cock right to your lips which you eagerly gagged on, any pretense long gone as you sloppily sucked and stroked while Helmut thrust up to slam into you.

“Ohh, fuck, that’s it— gonna come,” he grunted as he reached up to press his hand against the ceiling of the jet, and it all must have hit him rather unexpectedly since the moment his musky taste began to coat your tongue, you heard a clanging sound and realized he had pushed up so hard that he bent the steel interior, his other hand tightening into a fist in your hair.

You moaned happily as you swallowed every drop, still sucking even as James’ moans became loud and higher in pitch.

“Fuck, don’t stop, oh god,” he whined, cock throbbing even after he stopped filling your throat with come. You reached between his legs and squeezed his balls a bit and you could tell his knees nearly buckled, causing him to finally pull back and tilt your chin up to stare down at you. “You’re somethin’ else,” he panted, taking a moment to catch his breath before falling back and slumping into his chair.

You looked over at Sam and saw his hand was still lazily guiding yours to stroke over his cock although come already painted his abs and dripped down from his swollen head over your fingers. “Can I clean up your mess, please, daddy?” you asked, voice a bit hoarse though you couldn’t be sure if that was from the deepthroating or just how hard Helmut was fucking you now.

Pulling your hand back, Sam’s eyes followed as you lapped the thick, hot come from your hand, moaning openly at the taste. You sucked your fingers down into your throat, not leaving a drop behind.

He leaned back in his chair and began to catch his breath, both of them now staring at you with that exhausted, glazed-over expression. They looked satisfied, and you considered it your reward for a job well done.

"A belly full of come and a pussy full of my cock, you must be feeling ecstatic," Helmut presumed.

"Yes, sir," you agreed quickly.

All at once he began to fuck you faster, harder, deeper which you hadn't even realized was an option. He growled a string of the filthiest curses in your ear, in Sokovian so the other men wouldn’t understand, with one hand wrapped around your neck as the other pinched your clit almost too roughly. Even in your native language you could barely understand it: how could you when he was so deep inside you?

“Will you come, draga?” he finally asked, voice rough with his own desperation.

“Not until you let me, sir,” you moaned, and he chuckled a bit.

“Good girl.”

But wow, the way he rubbed your clit was impossible to ignore, like he was trying to make your promise impossible to keep. You tightened your jaw, moaning through your teeth now as you fought to keep your orgasm at bay.

“Please sir, I need to come, please— so close, I’m so close,” you mewled.

“I won’t be much longer, either,” he warned. "Too long without you has taken its toll, I need to finish."

“Inside me, sir, please,” you begged, “come inside me.”

You felt him nod against the back of your neck. “Come for me,” he instructed simply, and as obedient as ever, you felt your walls pulsing as pleasure overtook you. Not even meaning to, you threw your head back, and he had to hold you tightly to keep you from shaking too violently as the waves of sensation washed over you.

The heat of him spilling inside you warmed you from the inside out, making you smile happily through the fog of your high and intentionally tighten your walls around him. He hissed and throbbed within you, his fingers digging into your hips now as he held you down against him.

He gave a few more lazy thrusts until finally slowing to a stop, both of you catching your breath eventually.

"My... accountant will be keeping my cock warm for the remainder of the flight," Helmut informed the other men, "I hope you don't mind?

"No, no, go ahead," James approved as his head fell back against his chair.

It was still quite a ways to your final destination so it wasn't much of a surprise that you ended up falling asleep in the Baron's arms, something you used to do every night that had been only a dream for years. Perhaps this afternoon wasn't the reunion you expected, but it was somehow even more perfect than you could've ever wished for.

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dobrodošla nazad, ljubavi = добродошла назад, љубави = “welcome home, love”

lutka = лутка = “doll”

draga = драга = “dear/beloved”

tako očajno = тако очајно = "so desperate"

tako dobro = тако добро = "so good"

#baron zemo x reader #helmut zemo x reader #helmut zemo smut #bucky barnes x reader #mafia!bucky barnes smut #sam wilson x reader #sam wilson smut #sambucky x reader #tfatws fanfiction

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poptod · 3 years

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Cyber Security (Elliot Alderson)

Description: An online ad leads him to you, though in reality he has little interest in your ad. What interests him is how you accidentally doxxed yourself and how oblivious you are to that fact.

Notes: idrk what to say about this one its one of those things that i wrote at midnight after almost falling asleep to a fantasy and then realizing it could work as a fic. like i did this same thing with ‘close your eyes’ that one was also a before-bed-to-get-to-sleep fantasy. this is also not a particularly romantic interaction, though it can be read as such WC: 2.2k

Sweat drenched his sheets, bathing him in the cold wind that breezed past his only air conditioner lodged in a nearby window. He stared blankly upwards, half shivering and half overheated, as he once again found himself in a familiar predicament—the practice of sleep.

It was no secret he had trouble calming himself down, and that aspect of himself reached into the evening, as well. He already downed three melatonin pills hours earlier, along with smoking a joint that should’ve put him to bed. Unsurprisingly, that did not work.

“Xanax,” he mumbled to himself, hearing it bounce back from empty walls. “Need to get xanax.”

In the meantime he raised himself to his feet, padding across freezing floors to his computer. With a click of a button the white screen buzzed to life, shining bright onto his sleep-heavy eyes, that did their best to acclimatize to the sudden change.

Hypnotization—strange as it might’ve been—had worked a couple times before. Not all the time, but decently enough to give it a try. He had work in the morning and he didn’t need to be more miserable than usual, especially since he hadn’t slept almost the entire weekend.

sleep hypnosis

The blinker flickered for a moment before his fourth finger slammed down on enter, the last step in calculated movements. What popped up first was a video titled [ SLEEP HYPNOSIS ] 8 Hour Loop with a screencap of a spinning black and white screen. Below that, however, was something he hadn’t seen before—a YouTube video titled exactly what he’d typed, lacking the caps just as he had. The title screen appeared to be some sort of poorly-drawn painting.

Curiosity overcame his hazy, aching head, and he clicked, finding a playlist of videos containing what could be the titles of songs, along with several different poorly-drawn title screens.

The first video began to play before he could realize it. What he first noticed was it was bereft of ads—that meant the publisher made no money off the album.

Sat in the presence of God

whose name means filthy old fraud

Captions had been manually added by, he assumed, you. The author. There were three views on the video, no comments, and no likes, leaving few other options.

Maybe it was the melody—maybe the lyrics, who talked of a world plagued by aristocrats. But he found his eyelids heavy, dropping dark eyelashes in his vision that blurred the screen. By the third song, reciting verses of an Islamic poem, he was slouched in his seat.

He slid down to the floor, crawling his way back to flop onto his bed. The music continued to play till the first ad popped up, at which time he opened his eyes, seeing a music video from Katy Perry, at which time he promptly reached over and unplugged his computer. He wasn’t sure which cord he pulled out, but the screen still went black. With that, he just barely sneaked into his covers, dozing until the morning.

It was far too easy to get information on you. Your full name was stated clearly in your youtube bio, alongside several different social media tags leading to instagram, tumblr, and facebook.

Facebook alone provided him the means to your address, and he didn’t even have to go looking for it. Your most recent post was an ad, searching for someone good with computers to aid you in your recording process, which you noted as ‘dismal’.

Are you fucking kidding me? He thought to himself, reading the ad once more.

Your address, your real, physical address was stated as the place you wanted to meet those interested in helping you. On the internet. You had doxxed yourself after less than a year of being online.

Okay, he thought, clicking on your listed email. Someone needs to be taught a lesson.

Three days later—after about two weeks of listening to your echoing voice every night—you replied, sending a cheerful email detailing when you would be available to meet him. After shooting a short message back, the date was organized.

Two more days and he was standing at your doorstep, his neck craned upwards as he scanned your tall, narrow home squished between two other apartments. He just barely knocked before the black door swung open, revealing a familiar face belonging to a stranger. Elliot was dressed in his black hoodie and jeans, a stark difference to your long, colorful robes, coming out of a sort of fantasy world.

“Hi,” he said, his voice grating with how low and quiet he kept it.

“Hello,” you said with a smile that did not match his hunched posture. “Are you Mr. Alderson?”

“Elliot,” he corrected, his chin just barely raising to meet you. “Elliot Alderson. Elliot works.”

“Alright,” you said, nodding. “Come inside? I was just making tea. Do you like tea? Or do you prefer coffee?”

“I... I’m fine, thanks,” he said softly, scooting past you when you opened the door wide enough for him to enter. He sucked in a breath as his chest brushed yours.

Your home was modern—far fancier than Elliot’s own apartment, with large windows flanked by soft grey curtains. A small, upright piano was in the corner of the living room, set upon a reed mat lined with Korean symbols. The couch was clinical, made of a sort of black plastic leather that matched the grey skies beyond the window panes.

He sat down, shifting his feet closer together as his fingers dug into his palms, continuing to scan the room in its’ entirety until you returned with your own tea.

“What kind of experience do you have? School counts,” you said, setting your cup down on a tiny plate whose decorations matched your teacup.

“I’ve been... experimenting, with computers, since I was around 9,” he said, mumbling the words out as his shoulders hunched awkwardly down. “Have a job at a cyber security firm. Started a while back.”

“You still have that job?”

“Yeah,” he said with a small nod. “Jus’ thought this would be... fun.”

The dead look on his face indicated no humor whatsoever, but you took his word as it was.

“How’d you find the ad I put out?”

“I... I listened to your music,” he answered honestly for once. “Helps me fall asleep.”

“Oh,” you said, clearly taken aback. Your face grew warm as you glanced away with wide eyes. “I’m glad I could help.”

“You’re not very good with technology, though,” he said in his usual low, grating voice.

“Not really,” you chuckled sheepishly. “That’s why I put out the ad -“

“No, not that,” he interrupted you. “You put your physical address on the internet. You doxxed yourself. Do you even know how dangerous that is?”

The lyrics of your songs pointed towards a kind of brilliance, balanced against emotions felt thoroughly on pages and screens. It didn’t match your actions at all.

“What’s doxxing?” You asked.

Elliot had to physically stop himself from sighing and leaving.

“You want everyone to know where you, a minor celebrity, live?”

“I’d hardly call myself a -“

“I could’ve been a murderer,” he said, reaching into his bag.

He looked you in the eye as he pulled out a gun, clicking on the safety before he pointed it at you.

“This is how easy it would be to kill you.”

As expected, you stiffened at the sight of the iron barrel, your fingers withdrawing to your chest. Your lips pursed as you met his gaze once more.

“Please put the gun down,” you whispered, your voice cracking.

He did as you said, resting the gun on the table.

“That’s a hell of a way to start an interview, Mr. Alderson,” you said quietly. “Please get out of my house.”

His heart sank. What had he expected? For you to fall to your knees and sing to him as he desired you to do? He threatened you with a gun to teach you a lesson, and you reacted accordingly. Calmer than others would.

Elliot stood on shaky legs, sliding the pistol into his backpack before he zipped it up. Throwing the pack over his shoulder, he swallowed through a tight throat, shuffling as he delayed his departure.

“Keep safe from people like me,�� he said in a strained mumble. “Take that ad down. Meet people from the internet only in inhabited, public areas.”

You tapped your fingernails on the table for a moment, chewing on your bottom lip. Suddenly you stood, tugging on his sweatshirt sleeve to get him to face you, instead of staring at his feet.

“Alright. If you’re really so good at the internet -“

He ignored your incorrect grammar.

“- and... if you actually do want to help me with my songs,” your tone softened, “then you’ll be able to find my real name, not my stage name. If you do.. I’ll hire you.”

“Alright,” he said monotone, knowing the battle was already won.

Even though he knew your name already, he turned away and left to his apartment, immediately going to work on figuring out everything he could about you. If you willingly still offered him the job after that, he knew it would take a lot to scare you off. He could impress you.

It was, after all, the only thing he was good at.

Two days later he showed up at your apartment again, quietly thanking you when you let him in. The clean floors and walls remained unchanged since his last visit, and you led him to the same table, sitting him down on the same seat.

“Your name is (Y/N) (L/N),” he started with. You already appeared to be surprise. “You grew up near LA and you’ve had a chronic illness all your life. At eleven you saw your first therapist.. that must’ve been when you first got diagnosed with depression... and anxiety.”

“Killer duo,” you muttered.

“Your parents split when you were thirteen, which came at the same time as your dog, Penelope, died. Or... sometime that year. When was that... 1997?”

“1999,” you said quietly.

“Your mom homeschooled you,” he continued. “That’s probably why you don’t know how computers work. Rather eclectic, in a.. boring way... an ex-Amish, right?”

You nodded and his heartbeat tripled. Everything was right thus far despite a two year difference in his guesstimate of your life’s timeline.

“Then there was your dad... logger in the Redwood forests. Burly guy. Not a great man, from what I saw,” he said.

“He was fine,” you said with a small shrug as you looked away. “Didn’t ever hurt me, or anything.”

“Abuse isn’t always physical,” he said faster than he could think, dizzied by his own memories playing behind his eyes.

“I know,” you murmured.

You went silent, so he continued, hoping to pry more precious words from you.

“Your favorite color is yellow,” he said, leaning closer to you. “On Valentine’s you get chocolate strawberries, and on easter you get kinder eggs.”

Nothing.

“You studied mythology as a kid, and you made paintings of the forest you lived in with your mom. Santa Cruz mountains, I think.”

“Yeah,” you said. “I miss the forests.”

“I know. You want to visit Ireland again because it’s a land of faeries and moss, it’s a breeding ground for your song lyrics.”

“How did you find all this out?” You finally asked.

“You use the same password on everything,” he said, though that was far from the actual answer. “Your web browser tracks all your movements and you don’t try to stop it, or hide ads, or stay away from sketchy websites. Your parents aren’t much better, either.”

You chuckled, shaking your head as you brought your hand to massage your brow.

“You’re way too smart to be helping me,” you said with soft laughter, blushing with your smile.

“It’s better than working for E Corp,” he said, huffing out a laugh that was hardly humored.

“E corp?”

“My.. uh, place of work,” he brushed off his slip. “My point is... I’d rather work with you and do easy work than work with my current fucking coworkers.”

You laughed, truly and fully this time, curling into a little ball that shook with the force of it. Your feet tucked into your tiny chair, making you even smaller.

“Bad people or just annoying?”

“Stupid,” he chuckled. “Don’t let me wear my sweatshirt.”

“Ooh, now it’s my turn,” you suddenly interrupted him, earning a strange look. “I’ve noticed things about you, too. I couldn’t learn anything off the computer, but you, you have anxiety too. Probably some childhood trauma.. maybe a dissociative disorder of sorts or a form of PTSD. Your jacket is like your home, and... you have sensory issues. Few types of fabric, don’t like to be touched, if I had to guess I’d say you might be autistic.”

“Blunt,” he said after a full minute’s silence.

“Do you mind?” You asked.

“No, not really.”

“Good. Then you’re hired,” you said with a smile, extending your hand for him to shake. “If you still want the job, of course.”

He watched you with evident apprehension, but took your hand after much thought, shaking with a firm grip.

“When do I start?”

#elliot alderson x reader #Elliot Alderson #mr robot #rami malek

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sailorhyunjinz · 3 years

Note

HI BESTIE IMY HEBSBRBS AHH I’ve been so busy ... also recently got super sick and I’ve not been well at all ,, it’s just the flu / a stomach bug tho ! :,) hru ???

Your latest reaction was so good ,, thoughts r being thunk ?? Thinking about skz reaction to you rubbing / jerking their dicks just whenever you’re bored .. and you don’t even really notice that they’re getting off ahah IDK IT JUST SEEMS TO HOT ??

Once they cum or wtv you’re like ;) hsshbrbs

I have a dick but honestly it’s never bothered me reading ur shit directed towards a female reader ? For some reason I really like it bye 😭🤚

-🚬

BABYBOOOY WHY HAVE YOU BEEN SICK?!?! :((( Hope you’re feeling better now, i should give u some of my healing medicin aka my kisses :(( <33

Also that last bit AAh thank u T-T i try to be more inclusive but like AAAGH im always so scared that i’ll mess something up from my lack of ~ knowledge ~ BUT I REALLY TRY MY BEST >< so thank uuu for having patience for my dumb ass

ANYWAYS SPEED REACTION LEGO

warnings: skz x gn!reader. handjobs, blowjobs, cum, orgasm (m), cum eating, slight overstimulation

Bangchan

“w-what the fuck”

yeah thats his only reaction when you suddenly stick your hand down his pants, wrapping your hand around his dick and slowly stroking it while big spooning him

you werent trying to get him off... more like... you wanted something to play with while watching the movie

boy would be ~ flustered ~

he’d find it interesting

why would you jerk him off if you didn’t want him to cum yk?

like that type of thoughs

but of course you can’t expect him to not react LMAO

you were fully immersed in the movie because it started to get interesting now and you didn’t notice how you started jerking him off faster.

until...

you felt something warm and wet hit your hand paired with his dick twitching

you looked at him and saw that poor boy was biting his bottom lip so hard trying to not disturb you with his moans

“did you cum?” you say, lifiting up his pants to which he yelped and put his hands over yours right at his crotch. “n-no”

Minho

be bold with this man

pull his pants down when he’s just chilling ASHASHA oh god

he doesn’t think it fair

eventhough he does the exact same to you

when he does it to you it more like he simply wants to feel you all over, not intending for you to get turned on

but make one moan and this mf thinks it a game

“how many times can i get y/n to moan”

NO OK BUT RETURNING TO YOU -> HIM

it would take sum time to get him to cum

he doesnt strike me as the sensitive type and so you could jerk him for quite a while which hey more fun for you

but ooone faithful day he was more turned on than usual leading to him cumming quicker than he usually does during one of those times where you played with his dick

stroking it, running your thumb across the tip, licking it .. you name it...

you smirk when he accidentally cums on your lips and you lick it off and he just starts complaining (yk when jisung bit his fingernail in that two kids room episode, yeah that tone)

“y-you can’t just do that!!” you start chuckling “what? mad that you came like a bitch?”

nex thing you know you’re pinned against a wall OOP sorry

Changbin

he lives for this BUT only if you give him attention

which you dont because you’re simply bored and dont want to get him off, more like... liking the feeling of having him in your hand lmao

“can you at least look at me?” you shake your head, holding his semi-erect dick in your hand “shh,,, im watching something!”

that would be the everyday conversation ahsahsha

I FEEL LIKE YOU COULD GO FOR A WHILE??!

he’d be relativly quiet as well so you wouldnt notice until he actually cums and you’re like “...wtf why is my hand sticky”

BRUH U START APOLOGIZING HASHAS HE JUST GLARES AT YOU FOR NOT GIVING YOU ANY ATTENTION

but he came anyways so..

you try to escape the situation but he’s not having it

“nah you’re not escaping now, finish what you started baby”

Hyunjin

another boy thats lives for this

why? because a) its a handjob b) he likes the thrill of not knowing when you’re bored c) because you forget what you’re doing and he likes seeing you surprised when he cums ASHAHS god bury me

would purposefully make you bored

“the wifi is down y/n,, guess we having nothing to do...w-wanna give me a handjob”

you shrug, “alright”

you’re completely lost in though, wondering when the wifi will return or what you guys should eat for dinner

suddenly he cums,,, a lot,,,

you laugh at him and he’s kind of blushing with his hair covering parts of his face.

“i-i’m pretty sure the wifi will be down for a while” ;))

Jisung

FUCK YES LETS GO

he would already just be naked infront of you at random times

like,,, whats the point in putting on clothes after the shower if he knows that you are going to sneak up on him and jerk him off yk?

but what this boy didn’t know was how you didn’t notice most of the time

your hand just having a mind of it’s own...

but you’d notice pretty quick

since this boy LOUD YALL

whiny mf

“shush!” you say, scrolling on your phone with one hand and jerking him off with the other.

you didnt intend on making him cum,,, just giving him a massage ASKKASJSKSA

he’d act all like “ppfft... you can’t make me cum from just that-”

and then shuts up because “h-hey... this feels too g-good”

not thinking he’d cum this quick you started talking to him but were quickly cut off from him letting out a long moan

“f-fuck,, y/n..h-haa,,,”

after he cums you’re like “heading to bed”

but he pulls you back, grabbing your wrist and looking at you with big doe eyes

“c-could we keep going?”

Felix

boy would be walking around, holding his crotch because he never knows when you attack

because he belong to the more... sensitive bunch of boys... HE DOESNT LIKE IT TOO MUCH

mostly because he’d cum too fast and it would leave him embarrassed (awh poor boy:(( )

thats legit the only reason LMAO

noo poor boy wants to appear all tough for you even though you’ve told him over 100 times that he doesn’t have to be, you love him for who he is yk? <33

BUT NOPE stubborn baby sets bets with you

“ok this time i won’t cum that quickly... last time was a practice round”

ASHAHSH WHY IS THAT SO FUNNY JESUS

4 minutes later... YEAH YOU GUESSED IT

and you didnt even notice?!?!

you just thought that those sounds were him in like pain ASHShHAS

because you were to preoccupied thinking watching tv

needless to say,,, he was pouty,, for a while

until you attacked again LMAO

Seungmin

ok gimmie a second,,,, i need to think

alright... he likes it BUT he’s shy

you need to give the puppy some time to warm up

do it too fast and he gets scared AHSHASH

so ok lets say that the both of you are doing,, nothing

and you just slowly feel him up and it eventually leads to you jerking him off

you’re not even aware of how good he’s feeling with your hand around his cock

“y-y/n can you stop?”

“stop what- oh”

looking down you notice that he already came, his cum coating the tip and your hand with white thick ropes

NOT THAT HE CAME FAST JUST THAT HE SUFFERED WITH THE SLIGHT OVERSTIMULATION ON HIS OWN

goddamn... seungmin is always so difficult to write for ONLY ME?!?!?

seungmin stans are already knocking on my door SORRY IM TRYING

Jeongin

BLUSHY BOY

I REPEAT; BLUSHY BOY

“w-what are you doing y/n~?” he says while your hand travels down the side of his body while the two of you were chilling in bed. “im bored” you huff out, looking him in those big brown eyes. “we can play videogames!” he says trying to make you get your hand out of his pants but you shake your head. “i wanna play with you instead”

boy would melt

painfully shy (and hard)

because you it all happened so fast??

the two of you were chilling, everything quiet and peaceful and before he knows it you’re jerking him off vigorously

he covers his face with his hands, occasionally sneaking a glance of your pretty face from inbetween his fingers as you give him a handjob

you’d be too focused watching his face as almost falling asleep not noticing the boy squirming around

until you hear

“h-hghnn...”

thats his cumming sounds btw HAHSHAH IF I WASNT CLEAR ENOUGH

jesus i cant write reactions for shit BUT THEY SEEM TO BE REALLY APPRECIATED SO YEAH!

I have 2 more of these coming up oh and also remember that this is legit word vomit SO ITS NOT PROOF READ AND UHM... i’ll try to do the two other ones this week heheh ^^

478 notes · View notes

maddiwrites · 3 years

Text

The Hybrid (Prologue)

Pairing: JJ x Reader

Summary: The Pogues rekindle their friendship with their old childhood best friend and JJ’s first crush, Y/N. Old feelings resurface for JJ and Y/N, possibly leading to a summer neither one of them could ever forget. Due to past trauma, Y/N is reluctant to let anyone into her heart, but JJ never backs down from a challenge, even if he knows it will come back to haunt him in the end.

Note: So happy to be back with another series!!! I honestly really missed posting. Unlike Secrets of the Shore, updates will be slower because I don’t have them all written out yet. A couple things I wanted to let you know before you read. I based Y/N’s family off of Gilmore Girls. I thought they were the perfect fit for this story and the show in general and I just love their dynamic. (Including Luke who I renamed Steve for obvious reasons). Chapter 1 will explain more obviously but I wanted to give you guys a little snippet of the characters and relationships. So let me know what y'all think!

Word Count: 3.3k

Outer Banks. Paradise on Earth. It's the sort of place where you either have two jobs or two houses. Two tribes, one island. As you know, the Outer Banks is essentially divided into two groups. If we want to be blunt - it’s the rich and the poor. Figure Eight is home to the rich. Aka the Kooks. With houses bigger than necessary with extra rooms that go untouched, boats the size of homes on the Cut - the other side of the island. Most people who live on Figure Eight are your naturally raised assholes. People who don’t know the value of a dollar and take advantage of people who do most of their dirty work that lets them prance around the island with perfectly manicured fingernails. These hard workers are the Pogues. They live on the south side of the island where most Kooks wouldn’t be found dead. They serve fancy meals at the country club for shitty tips, mow lawns, and work their asses off at any other job for minimum wage. The drastic difference in lifestyles tend to cause many spats and arguments between the two communities. Especially between the teenagers who still don’t know how to control their raging emotions or know when to bite back their tongue. For the Kooks, every fight is a fight for dominance where as the Pogues fight for equality - to put the Kooks in their place. Many of these fights happen at summer parties where the two groups clash to find a good time with their friends filled with alcohol, drugs, and good music.

That’s where they find themselves tonight. The infamous Pogues. John B, JJ, Kie, Pope, and now Sarah Cameron. Although born a natural Kook, she’s earned her spot next to the adventurous teens and her boyfriend. Unlike her brother Rafe who basically is the leader of his notorious group. Topper and Kelce are his best friends who follow him blindly.

The Pogues watch them from their spot surrounding the keg. Kie purses her lips in distaste as the boys cat call for the ladies around them. Somehow most of them finding it flattering. Sarah sips on her beer to hide her embarrassment, often wondering how she and her brother grew up to be so different. Pope and John B stay mostly disinterested, only worried if they try to make a pass at an unwilling girl or fire a degrading comment at their short tempered friend. JJ Maybank is known around the island for his trouble making behavior. Usually if he gets in trouble for fights, no one ever asks who the other people were in the scuffle. Because if JJ Maybank is in the fight, he’s the one who started it, right? Wrong. In fact, JJ usually is never the one to start it. He’s good at keeping his head down and only speaking when spoken to when it comes to the Kooks - the only form of advice worth taking from his father. But his short temper is something the Kooks his age loved to take advantage of because they liked getting a rise out of him. It was like an adrenaline rush.

Luckily, tonight both groups were keeping their distance, either only talking to each other or random Tourons that have found their way to the party. This is usually JJ’s favorite part of a boneyard party. Finding his one fish in a sea of many that he can reel in just for the night and never have to worry about seeing them again.

He has his eyes set on a beautiful blonde making her way to the bonfire when all of a sudden Kie’s voice pulls him out of his trance.

“What’s she doing here?”

JJ follows her line of vision, spotting you walking down the wooden steps that lead to the beach, pulling your best friend behind you by his wrist. He first notices your smile and how it brightens up your entire face. Then of course his eyes scan down your slim but athletically toned body. You’re wearing a pair of jean shorts and a cropped white T shirt that says UNC across the chest. Who knew someone could look so good without even trying?

Well JJ did. He’s known it for a while.

“Careful. I think you’re drooling,” John B whispers in his best friend’s ear.

JJ pushes him away and mutters, “Shut up. No I’m not.”

But maybe he was.

Y/N Y/L/N is a unique resident of the island. Unlike majority of the island, she doesn’t fall in either Kook or Pogue category. She’s what everyone calls the Hybrid.

People who work hard for what they have but haven’t fallen to be Pogue status. Quite literally living in the middle in a place they call the Crest.

Your story is well versed among the gossipers of the island (which tends to be just about everybody). And mainly that’s because of who your grandparents are. Claude and Doris Y/L/N. Two of the riches people on the island, living in a three story house on the beach. Many people fear them, others envy them. Most feel both. Even Ward Cameron walks on egg shells around them, which is quite often, considering he works for Claude. They’re the kind of people who have never heard of Barefoot wine or Walmart. They keep their noses up and turn a blind eye to the suffering communities around them. Thirty four years ago, Doris gave birth to a daughter that couldn’t be more opposite than them. Lorelai Y/L/N was a wild child. A rule breaker. She snuck out at nights, dated boys her parents would never approve of, dabbled in breaking the law here and there. It didn’t matter how many times her parents disciplined her. She always managed to make her parents’ life a living hell.

No one was surprised when word got passed around that Lorelai had gotten pregnant at eighteen. Although it was with another Kook, she brought shame upon her family name when she refused to get an abortion, even when her mom tried dragging her by her hair.

Lorelai risked everything by running away from her parents’ home in the middle of a windy night. With only one suitcase, the baby daddy out of the picture, and less than a grand in her pocket, she managed to make a life for herself on the South side of the island. She worked two jobs, found an affordable apartment for cheap rent, and managed to save some money before her babies were born.

Yes, babies. As in more than one. Five months after running away from home, she gave birth to twin girls and they instantly became her entire life. With the help of her best friend Steve, who she met one month after being on her own, meeting him at his automotive shop when she very much literally rolled her junky car into the garage, she raised you and your sister on the Cut. The two of you are her greatest accomplishment. Every now and then, she mentally throws up a middle finger to everybody who doubted her, proud of who the two of you have become.

Right before you turned ten, your mom took a business risk and opened her own Cafe. The Bikini Beans cafe, very popular amongst both Kooks and Pogues. The business did so well that she was able to move the three of you out of your shitty apartment into a beautiful one story home with three bedrooms in between the Cut and Figure Eight, aka the Crest, the summer going into your freshman year.

You actually used to be best friends with John B Routledge, JJ Maybank, and Pope Heyward. It was easier being friends with them than the girls, finding more joy in sports and rough housing than makeup and gossip.

Doing the same summer that you moved, your mom pulled you out of Kildare County High and placed you in Outer Banks Private Academy. Aka Kook Academy. Around this time, your grandparents had also become more involved in your life, and you wondered if they had somehow bribed your mom into forcing you to transfer schools. You tried asking her during one of your many fights that started with you begging her to keep you at Kildare County High, but she quickly shut you down and told you to be grateful. That was ironic coming from the woman who ran away from the people giving her an expensive high school career.

You had no choice but to do what your grandparents wanted and attend Kook Academy. Making friends was a lot harder there than it was in Kildare County High. You managed to make one friend in your freshman year. Andre Cortez. Due to an incident a couple years back, you built thick walls and Andre was the only one able to break them down. You were grateful for your friendship, but hanging out with him was nothing like hanging out with the Pogues.

When you transferred schools, you lost touch with the Pogues slowly. Your life became busy with school and playing dress up for your grandparents and the boys were starting to work. Eventually all contact was cut and ever since, you’ve felt a void in your heart.

“Look,” You tell Andre. “I told you I would be your wing woman and I’m not backing down from what could possibly be the most important role in my life.”

You didn’t notice the Pogues or any of the stares around you. It’s true you’re not much of a party girl. I mean, you’ll go out here and there, have a drink or two, but you felt more comfortable at places where you weren’t surrounded by drunk and horny teenagers.

“He’s probably not even here,” Andre says. He’s trying to look nonchalant but you notice the way his eyes dance from face to face of the people around him.

“He told you he was going to be here, right?” You ask him with one brow raised. Andre nods. “Then, we’ll find him.”

Sarah and Kie never made any effort to talk to you at school, but to be fair, neither have you. You’ve heard mixed reviews, some people call them spoiled brats, ungrateful...some even go as far as calling them ‘The Cut Sluts.’ Of course you never take any of those things to heart. You can’t judge a book but it's cover. Plus, they’re friends with your old best friends. They can’t be that bad for John B and JJ and Pope to be hanging out with them, right?

“You think she'll come over here?” Kie asks. No one’s ever said it out loud, but her friends wonder if deep down, Kie was a little jealous of you. Because you were their first real girl friend. You were the first girl they ever let in and opened their heart too. That was a tough pill for Kie to swallow when she originally thought she was that girl. Of course the boys don’t like you any more than Kie and vice versa. But sometimes Kie wishes she could have grown up with the boys the same way you had.

“Probably not. Unless she’s drinking,” Pope says and motions towards the keg they’re near.

“I have an idea,” John B says and fills up a red solo cup. He hands it to JJ. “Why don’t you go offer her a cup.”

JJ snags the cup out of John B’s hand and glares at him. “Fuck off, dude.”

“Do you guys ever see her around at school?” Pope asks the girls.

Sarah shrugs. “Not really. She doesn’t really get a long with my old group of friends.”

Kie rolls her eyes. “No one gets along with your old group of friends.”

Sarah playfully shoves Kie by the shoulder and they laugh.

“I heard she turned down Raymond Easterling a couple weeks ago and he didn’t take it very well,” Pope says, remembering the words he heard from the kids in his class roaming the school hallways.

Raymond goes to Kildcare County High with the Pogues. He’s known to be a trouble maker and a class clown. He works with JJ at the country club. The kid can make JJ laugh sometimes, but he wouldn’t necessarily say he likes him all that much. He can be an arrogant asshole with an ego bigger than it should be.

“She turns down everybody,” Sarah says. “Some people at my school call her ‘The Heart Sucker’ because she can pull people in with the snap of her fingers and break their heart just as quickly.”

Something stirred in the pit of JJ’s stomach.

“Hey! Where you going?” John B calls out to JJ who’s making his way deeper into the sea of people on the beach.

“Taking advantage of a good boneyard party, my friend,” JJ calls back and slugs the rest of his beer. Looking left and right, he searches for the blonde he had eyes on earlier. Because right now, he needed a distraction.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The party starts to die down a little after midnight. Some people leave to find another party, some are passed out in the back of their cars, and others had already found what they were looking for - someone to leave with.

The boneyard party wasn’t as bad as you expected it to be. You had found a couple of kids from your school who were nice enough to make small talk with you while Andre left to find a guy named Devon, a Touron he’s been talking to who’s renting for the entire summer.

Now you’re waiting for Andre to come back so the two of you can walk home. You find comfort under a slanted palm tree towards the back of the beach, scrolling through random apps on your phone to pass the time.

“Y/N?” You look up from you phone and smile when you see your former best friend inching closer to you, squinting in the dark to see if it’s really you.

“Maybank? What are you still doing here?” You stand up and pat the sand off your hands on you thighs.

Your heart skips a beat in your chest when you look at him. He’s beautiful. Lucious blonde hair, perfectly tanned skin, piercing blue eyes. You always knew JJ was going to grow up to be gorgeous. He was cute when he was younger. At least you always thought so.

“I was just leaving, but I thought I saw you sitting here and wanted to make sure you were all right.” He knows it’s not like you to stay this late at a party, especially all by yourself. When he first saw you sitting there, he didn’t know if he should say something. Mostly due to nerves of seeing you again. But the other Pogues had already left and he didn’t trust anyone else at the party to be near you alone late at night. It didn’t matter if you were sober or not.

“Aw. Was JJ Maybank worried about me?” You tease. Talking to him felt easy. As if you never stopped being friends. A few years ago, you and JJ had the best banter. Despite constantly bickering back and forth, John B always swore the two of you would get married one day. The two of you just always clicked like a natural connection. And even now, when only seeing each other every now and then for a few minutes at a time, it felt normal. You smirk when JJ rolls his eyes. “I’m kidding. Yeah, I’m okay. Just waiting for my friend to come back from his little rendezvous,” You say.

JJ nods. “Did you have a good time? I feel like I never you see at these things.”

“Yeah. Parties aren’t really my thing. But Andre was nervous to meet this guy he’s been talking to for a little while so I came for moral support.”

“Looks like he didn’t need much of the support.”

You shrug. “It’s better that way, anyway. I don’t mind waiting for him. What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Did you have a good time tonight? I hear your quite the ladies’ man at these things.”

“Come on, Sparky. You know better than to believe everything you hear.”

Your face lights up at the mention of your old nickname. You use to always be busting out the seams with energy. On days where the boys just wanted to chill and play video games, you would drag them to the park for a game of kick ball. Or when they wanted to sleep in after a long week, you showed up at 8 am to drag them out of bed to catch the morning waves. So one day JJ started calling you Sparky, and it stuck with the rest of your little gang. You always pretended to hate it, but secretly you loved it.

“Oh I don’t believe everything I hear. I do, however, believe what I see. And your arm around that tall blonde in the little black dress looked quite convincing.”

You first saw JJ at the party when he was making his way to the pretty girl by the water. Your teeth involuntarily clenched and there was a twisted feeling in your stomach you couldn’t shake whenever you looked at them.

In that instant, JJ felt grateful for the dark sky. He felt the rush of heat rise up his neck to his cheeks before he could stop it. He knew the motivation to see that girl was because of you. He just wished you never saw it. But he didn’t know why.

“I walked her home. She wasn’t my type,” JJ plays it off.

“I didn’t realize you had a type,” You giggle, but a small part felt relieved to hear this. “So what is it? Your type?”

Hybrids with a Pogue attitude, bright smile, beautiful eyes, and a mouth that could make any sailor turn around, JJ thought.

“I don’t know. Haven’t figured it out yet.”

You roll your eyes playfully. “Well, when you figure it out let me know.”

“Why? So you can transform into my ideal girl?” He teases.

Now you’re the one thankful for the dark sky. “In your dreams, Maybank. But so far, I do have the perfect wing-woman track record, so if you needed help -”

“I don’t think I need any help in that department. Thank you very much.”

You throw your hands up in fake surrender. “Ooo. Touchy subject.”

JJ rolls his eyes at the same time your phone pings with a text message. You pull it out of your shorts pocket and open the text from Andre, telling you to leave without him because he’s gonna stay out late with Devon and won’t know what time he’s going to be done.

“Everything all right?” JJ says, watching you read the message.

You lock your phone and stuff it in your back pocket again. “Like I said. Perfect wing-woman track record.”

“That was Andre?”

“Yeah. He’s most likely not coming home tonight.”

“Lucky bastard.”

“At least one of us is,” You joke.

JJ’s grin slightly falters but you don’t catch it. You have no idea how much he wishes the two of you could be equally as lucky. Together.

“Well, I should probably go,” You say and bend down to grab your flip flops.

“Let me walk you home,” JJ offers.

“Oh no. It’s okay -”

“You’re cute. It’s wasn’t up for debate. I’m not letting you walk back by yourself.”

You scoff lightly. “I’ll be fine.”

“Just humor me.”

You roll your eyes and smirk but choose not to argue. In fact, you’re excited to spend more time with JJ. It’s been so long.

“Fine.”

“And here I thought you might’ve grown out of your stubborn phase by now.”

You shove him playfully by the shoulder. “Shut up!”

And just like that, it felt like old times.

#jj fanfiction #jj maybank #jj maybank imagine #jj mayback x reader #jj maybank imagines #jj maybank x reader #outer banks imagine #outer banks fic #obx imagine #obx fic #jj maybank one shot

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yuta-senpai · 3 years

Text

Dating App | Changbin

- Pairing: Changbin x Female Reader

- Genre: Smut

- Warnings: PWP, protected sex, and hookup

- Word Count: 1.9k

You sat on the couch eating popcorn as you half-ass watched the movie that was playing. You were more focused on your phone, well to be exact, who was on your phone. Single life was great, you didn’t want anything serious, but sometimes you just needed attention. You swiped left on so many people you had lost track. None of the men caught your attention, they all looked too rough or like fuck bois. I guess you have a certain type you like, it probably stems from your love of anime.

As you were swiping you paused to admire a gorgeous man, his name was Changbin. He had soft features but still looked manly. You bit your lip and pressed the “Super Like” button. To your surprise, you matched with him. “Holy shit!” You typed up a message, ‘Hey I just wanted to slide into your dms.’

Wait... No that’s stupid. You deleted the message and tried to think of something better but nothing.

This is why you never had dates, you couldn’t think of a way to catch their attention.

Your phone buzzed signifying a new message, it was a message from Changbin. You squealed and clicked on it.

‘Hey, beautiful. Why are you a somebody on a site full of nobody’s?’ You were taken aback by what he said, but it was also kind of sweet.

‘I guess sometimes loneliness pushes you to extremes.’

‘I understand, would you like me to be a somebody or a nobody.’

You giggled and smiled.

‘Well as of now I’d like you to be a somebody.’

‘How about we talk on Snap, it’s SPEARB’

You laughed at the snap name ‘Why that name?’

‘Add me and I will tell you.’

You added him on Snapchat and he sent a cute picture of himself lying in bed.

Fixing your hair you applied a filter and sent a picture back.

‘Damn girl you are appealing to the eye.’

‘That’s such a weird way to put it.’

‘Maybe I’m a bit weird. So what are you doing tonight?’

‘Honestly, probably gonna watch movies and you?’

Usually, you had to talk to somebody for a couple of weeks before you would be willing to meet but you liked this guy.

‘Well, I was hoping to go to the bar with a pretty girl.’

“Ohh well I could clear my movie-watching schedule and we could always go to the bar together?’

‘Sounds like a date to me. Meet me at Stray bar at 8 pm?’

‘See you there.’

You jumped up excited and looked at the clock realizing you only had a little over two hours to get ready. You took a quick shower, put on makeup, fixed your hair, and lastly, you needed an outfit. The bar you were going to was pretty chill but you didn’t want to look boring. Something that showed your dominant side, so you changed and headed to the bar.

You arrived at the bar around 5 minutes early and walked up to sit down at the bar. You opened Snapchat and sent a picture to Changbin ‘I’m here.’

He read it but didn’t answer, you sighed as you figured you had been catfished.

You ordered a beer and waited for another 15 minutes and he still wasn’t there. Your beer was already empty, and he was 10 minutes late.

‘Are you still coming?’

He read it again and no response, you groaned and got up, ready to walk out the bar when an arm wrapped around your waist.

“Sorry beautiful I got stuck in traffic, and then I have to admit I had to build up the courage to come over and talk to you.” The words rolled off of his tongue like honey, and all you could imagine was that tongue on you. He really did something to you, and you barely knew him. You bit your lip, “It’s fine, I understand that things happen.” Both of you walked back over to the bar and ordered your drinks, you spent almost 2 hours getting to know each other, and you got a bit tipsy.

Around 11 pm both of you decided it was time to head home, “Hey Y/N, I don’t think you should drive. Let me drive you home.” “Nah, I’m fine. Plus I don’t want to leave my car.” “Please, I insist. I’ll pick you up in the morning so you can get your car.” You sighed, “Fine I give in.” He drove you back to your place, and when you were getting ready to leave you stopped.

“So I usually don’t do this, but would you like to come in? It’s late and I don’t want you to have to drive back.”

He smirked, “Of course I’ll come in.” You unlocked your door, and the moment he stepped in he pushed you against the wall his lips attacking yours.

You flipped him over, pressing his back against the wall.

“Damn couldn’t even wait just a few moments.”

He slid your jacket off exposing your neck to him, he kissed down your neck and sucked leaving his mark.

“You look so good, I couldn’t resist. If you want me to stop tell me.”

Grabbing onto the collar of his shirt you pulled him towards you and licked your lips.

He growled, “Is that a yes then?” You ran your tongue over his collar bone and sucked leaving your mark too.

“It’s a yes.”

He grabbed your hand and guided it down to hardened dick, “See what you do to me, see how hard you made me?”

You gripped it tightly in your hand. “Is it all for me?” He breathed out lowly. “It’s all yours tonight.” Grabbing his hand you led him into the bedroom and pushed him down onto the bed roughly.

You crawled over to him and straddled him, slowly grinding against him. He took a deep breath and leaned on his elbows admiring the view. You ran your hands down his chest and then up under his shirt. “How about we take this off?”

He leaned up and let you slide his shirt over his head. His lips attaching to yours. His hands sliding around under your shirt, grabbing your waist. You ground down against him again.

“My turn.” He flipped you over so he was on top. You bit your lip as you placed your hand on top of his head, “Take them off with your teeth.”

He kissed down your clothed chest to the hem of your bottoms. His teeth digging into the waistband of the fabric as he pulled them down a ways. His hands gripped the waistband as he slid your bottoms off the rest of the way.

He made eye contact with you as he looked up from between your legs. He pushed your panties aside, and groaned. “Look at you, so wet for me.”

He gently blew against your core then pressed two fingers against you. He pushed them inside and curled them up, immediately pressing against your most sensitive spot. You arched your back and gasped. He leaned up, hovering over you as he worked his fingers in an out of you.

He smirked at the view, “I love getting to see you squirm under me. You raised an eyebrow. “Oh really?”

You used your foot to push him back, he removed his fingers from your core, and then you stood up and turned him around forcing him to sit down on the bed. Your barely clothed core pressing against his fully clothed dick.

“But what if I want to see you squirm underneath me?” You ran your fingernails along his chest and stomach causing him to fidget underneath you. “Such an obedient baby boy, look at you.”

Right when you thought you had control he growled, manhandling you and flipping you so your face was in the mattress and your ass was in the air. He leaned down close to your ear and whispered, “I am not a baby boy.”

You turned your head so you could talk, “You look like a baby boy to me.” He smacked your ass. You heard his belt buckle as if he was undoing his pants. “I will prove I’m not.” “You know by how angry you got by that it just further enforces just how much of a baby boy you are.”

“God you are such a brat.” He pulled your panties down to your knees, exposing your wet core to him.

You tried to lean up but he pushed your upper half into the mattress even more, “Stay there and behave….. Baby girl.” Your eyebrow twitched at the pet name. You heard him moving around a bit then heard him opening a condom. As he was rolling on the condom you rolled over onto your back, got off of the bed, and pushed him onto the bed, straddling him.

He was caught off guard by your sudden movement giving you enough to line him up and slide him into you. You placed your hands on his chest, slowly moving on him.

You rolled your head back and moaned as you rotated your hips. His hands dug into your waist and he groaned. He moved your hands off of his chest and leaned up, sitting up. You wrapped your arms around his neck and bounced up and down, his dick stretching you.

He groaned, “Ahh fuck.”

His hands slid under your shirt, wrapping around your waist. “Can I take this off?”

You nodded and raised your arms up over your head. He slid his hands up your sides, slowly taking your shirt off. Once it was over your head his hands went behind your back to unclip your bra. Finally freeing your breasts for him. He gripped your breasts in his hands then leaned forward and kissed right above your left nipple. He swirled his tongue around it, making your back arch. His lips softly wrapped around it and he sucked, making you tighten. He pulled away with a pop.

“So sensitive for me.”

He started thrusting up into you and his jaw clenched.

“No cumming until I say so? Okay baby boy?” He rolled his eyes and you smacked his thigh, “Learn to behave.” “I won’t behave for you,” he gripped your hips and started to roll up into you faster, trying to be dominant even with you on top.

You leaned back, placing your hands on his knees, forcing his dick to hit the exact right spot to send shocks of pleasure through your body. Your high was nearing

“Don’t you dare cum yet, baby girl.” He flipped you over so he was on top your back landing on the sheets, “You and I will cum together.” Changbin gripped your hips and thrusted into you at a shocking speed. You gripped onto the sheets and moaned. “Holy shit.”

Your breasts bounced with each thrust and the knot in your stomach formed quickly. You let yourself fall over the edge. You tightened around him, your back arching as you came.

“Did you just cum without me?” You smirked and bit your lip, “You aren’t my dominant so you have no say in when I cum.”

He growled and continued to thrust into you even harder, his thrusts became sloppy as he came.

His hair stuck to his forehead as he leaned forward, he pulled out and rest his head on your stomach.

“Well that was fun Y/N.” You raised an eyebrow, “Damn that was a sudden personality change.”

#stray kids #skz #stray kids smut #skz smut #stray kids changbin #skz changbin #changbin #seo changbin #skz fanfic #stray kids fanfic #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #skz scenarios #stray kids scenarios #changbin smut #seo changbin smut #stray kids x reader #changbin x reader

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sincerelyella · 3 years

Text

My Person (Liam x MC)

Book: The Royal Romance (AU)

Song Inspiration: My Person by Spencer Crandall

Pairings: Liam x MC (Ella) Summary: A one shot of my favorite couple - it’s Liam and Ella’s anniversary and there are big plans in store.

A/N: Okay, I’m gonna be very honest, I am super nervous about posting again. I wrote this maybe last week and kind of finished it earlier today. Thank you to those that I vented to about actually posting my stories, not sure why I feel really sick right now. New blog name (used to be @callmeellabella), new post LOL and I didn’t really know who to tag since it’s been a long time so I’m using my old list. Please let me know if you want off.

A/N2: Participating in @wackydrabbles this week. Prompt will be in bold.

Thank you @alyssalauren and @ofpixelsandscribbles for reading through this for me and kind of handing me that invisible paper bag for me to breathe in. Love y'all!

Warnings: Fluffs. A lot of fluffs.

Words: 1658

Isaiah and Noelle grinned as they filmed their parents in the seat in front of them, holding hands. After 15 years of marriage, Liam and Ella were the epitome of the best partners to each other and parents to their children. There were rough times, of course, you can’t escape those, but the King and Queen handled things in stride.

Noelle’s eyes filled with tears when she watched her dad lift her mom’s hand to his mouth and kiss her knuckles. The way he looked at Ella, like she was the only woman in the world, made Noelle have very high standards for a future partner for herself.

Isaiah grew up knowing how you were supposed to treat a woman, and it was all modeled from how his dad treated his mom. At 15 years old, he grew up in the public eye, but thankfully, his parents allowed him to have a normal childhood. The only time there was mention of royalty was a gala or a ball held at the palace; his Uncle Leo, Max, and Drake as well as his Aunt Olivia and parents all dressed up.

It was their parent’s anniversary that day and Liam had planned a family dinner, just the four of them.

One week ago

“Hey guys,” Liam smiled as he watched his kids sitting at the kitchen island doing homework.

“Hey, dad.” “Hi, daddy.”

Liam hung his keys on the wall by the door and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Next week is mine and your mother’s anniversary.”

Noelle and Isaiah stopped what they were doing and met their father’s gaze.

“I … was hoping you could help me with something,” his brows rounded as he stared at them.

“Sure, what did you need?” Noelle asked.

Isaiah chewed his bottom lip. “No pranks though, right dad?”

Liam chuckled, remembering that anniversary and how it went … so wrong. “No, son. No pranks. Plus, your Uncle Maxwell is not invited until later.”

Present-day

“Guys, we’re here,” Liam turned to Noelle and Isaiah and widened his eyes at them, the two nodding back with small smiles. Ella missed the entire silent exchange as she climbed out of the black SUV after Bastien opened her door.

Everyone piled into the restaurant, all of them laughed and cried as the kids asked for a cake to be presented to their parents to celebrate their special day.

“How beautiful,” Ella wiped her tears away as she gazed at the red velvet bundt cake covered in cream cheese frosting. “Was this your doing?” She turned to her husband as he smiled.

“No, love, that was them,” he gestured towards Noelle and Isaiah.

“Thank you,” she used a tissue to dab at both her eyes.

“Fifteen years is a long time to be married, ma,” Isaiah dimpled as he looked from his mom to his dad. “Now hurry up and eat it so that we can have a piece!”

The family laughed and dug into the cake. An hour later, they slowly stood from the table, grumbling about how full they were.

“Oh God, why didn’t you stop me?” Isaiah smacked his sister in the arm.

Noelle glared at her brother and punched him in the arm. “It’s not my fault you ate like you never saw food before.”

“Why did you say that?” Isaiah whined.

Liam and Ella walked behind their children, smirking at each other.

“They’re so dramatic,” Ella snorted.

“Wonder who they got that from?” Liam arched a brow at his wife.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Your Majesty.”

“Love,” Liam waited until she turned to look at him. “I have a surprise for you.”

“Where? What is it?”

“Come on,” he tugged on her hand and led her out of the restaurant and into the waiting SUV.

“Where are we going?”

“Ma, just wait, we’ll get there in a minute,” Noelle giggled in the back seat.

“You guys know too?” Ella looked from her son to her daughter and back again. “Liam?”

“Just relax, love, we’ll be there soon,” he squeezed her hand and laughed as her nose wrinkled in annoyance.

A few minutes later, Bastien turned into a small, private area for vehicles to park. “We’re here,” he said and turned to smirk at Ella. “Your Majesty, we’re going to blindfold you.”

“You’re … what?!”

Isaiah cackled as he leaned forward to wrap a scarf around his mother’s eyes.

“That’s blocking my nose,” Ella complained. “I can’t breathe.”

“You can breathe out of your mouth.”

“Isaiah Alexander,” she said sternly and he jumped.

“Sorry mom,” he mumbled as he fixed the scarf so it only covered her eyes.

“Okay,” Liam opened the door to her side of the SUV. “Come on, love, I’m carrying you to our destination.”

Ella let out a long sigh and reached up to feel her husband’s neck. She allowed him to carry her bridal style to … wherever they were going. When her family got like this it was usually because of her husband, who loved to take her places to surprise her. She didn’t mind, honestly, but it was annoying when everyone was in on it except for her.

“We’re almost there, love, I promise,” she felt Liam kiss the top of her head and she snuggled into his shoulder.

“Hey, I got a picture from Uncle Max!” Noelle opened the message and gasped.

Isaiah reached for his sister’s phone. “Is it another picture of him and his peacock Lady and the Tramping some spaghetti?”

Everyone began to laugh.

“I can’t believe that damn thing didn’t peck his eye out,” Ella snorted.

“That thing still scares the crap out of me,” Noelle said as her fingers flew over the keys.

“We’re here,” Liam smiled as he began to step down onto the large rocks towards the private beach.

“Don’t drop me, Liam,” Ella said as she lifted her nose to the air. “I smell the ocean.” She felt her husband lower her to the ground. “What now? I’m still wearing this.”

A moment of silence and some giggling in the distance made Ella furrow her brows.

“Okay, take off the scarf, love.”

Ella quickly undid the knot and opened her eyes; she faced the ocean. “Liam, what-”

“Turn around.”

As she did, she saw her husband on one knee, her children behind him in the distance carrying an old 1989 boombox, the song My Person by Spencer Crandall playing.

I was lookin' for a long time

I never found nobody like you

I got your name, got your number

And we talked 'til they turned on the lights

“A boombox?”

Liam smirked. “You made me watch Sixteen Candles.”

“Oh yeah,” she chuckled. “Liam,” Ella had tears streaming down her face and she wiped them away quickly. “Wh-what is this?”

He took hold of her free hand and ran his thumb over her knuckles. “Love, it’s our fifteenth wedding anniversary. We married that long ago.”

She nodded, the lump on her throat making it difficult for her to speak.

“But we were together before that,” he smiled up at her. “I met you and I was done for, I haven't looked at anyone else since. You came to my social season, I chose you, we were engaged for a year, and then here we are.”

My person

My heartbeat

My slow dance

My Sunday-morning-sippin'-on-coffee in bed

My know-when-you-know best friend

“You’re my person,” Liam bit his bottom lip to control his emotions. “You and the kids are my everything, and you know I’d give all this up for you if you asked.”

“We don’t want that though!” Noelle yelled and they all laughed.

“Ella Brooks Rys, I wanted to ask you if you would remarry me,” he reached into his pocket, pulled out a black velvet box, and opened it. “Renew our vows and our commitment to each other.”

The box held three rings, an emerald-shaped, 6-carat diamond solitaire in the middle, and one plain platinum band on each side of it. One was engraved with Isaiah Alexander and the other with Noelle Marie.

“Of course,” Ella choked out as Liam smiled and the kids jumped up and down.

My saving grace, my everything

I’ve never been more sure that you’re my person

Every minute is a long time

If I ain’t holding on to you

Liam pushed all three rings onto her finger. “You ready, Mrs. Rys?”

“I am, Mr. Rys,” she pulled her husband to her and captured his lips in a passionate kiss.

“Ew, gross!” “Stop! This is not part of the plan!”

“Congratulations!”

Ella was surprised by that last one and turned towards the sound. All of their friends and family were there on the beach, smiling at them.

“What are-”

“You guys are renewing your vows!” Leo hollered and lifted a bottle of champagne in the air. “Let’s get this going so we can get druuuunk!”

“Leo!” Liam snapped at his brother.

“I mean, I’m ready when you are.”

Hana and Olivia rushed towards Ella and hugged her. “Were you surprised?”

“I was,” Ella sniffled. “You guys all knew?”

“Yup!”

“My little blossom! You are so beautiful! Let me see the rings!”

Ella gave Max her left hand.

“Whatever you do, don’t let Beaumont touch it. I’m sure he’s got lasagna all under his fingernails,” Drake chuckled as he approached the group.

“Hey marshmallow,” Ella turned to hug him. “And you guys had lasagna without me?”

Liam laughed and put an arm around Noelle and Isaiah. “You guys ready?”

They both nodded.

“I’m ready to marry your mother again,” they all laughed as Ella put her arm around Isaiah. “Let’s go!”

My saving grace, my everything

I've never been more sure that you're my person

Yeah, baby, you're my person

#My Person #Liam x MC #Liam x Ella #the royal romance #the royal romance fandom #the royal romance fanfic #the royal romance fanfiction #trr au #the royal romance au #trr fandom #trr fanfic #trr fanfiction #Sincerely Ella #Ella still writes #Liam Rys #King Liam

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pain-in-the-butler · 3 years

Text

The time has come once again

The Bloodbath

“I’m simply one hell of a butler” says Sebastian as he starts cleaning as usual

Okay so Agni’s taking no prisoners

Work Nerd, Science Nerd, and Jock Nerd team up to form the Nerd Trifecta

Team One Brain Cell joins up with Phipps, who is quite possibly their only chance for survival

Ran-Mao remembers how Harcourt beat everyone in the unfortunately deleted round and said “Not in my backyard”

So far, everyone else has simply run away unscathed or grabbed a weapon they won’t use because the game doesn’t record weapons. Rip Tanaka

Day 1

Ran-Mao bringing the canon energy by adding a second weapon to her arsenal

Phipps somehow always turns into Team Dad during these, so I’m glad to see he’s finding time for his favorite hobbies

Undertaker up to his usual Sneaky Antics

It hasn’t even been twelve hours yet. Kind of impressive honestly

Considering Harcourt lost his mace, I’ll just assume the attack Grell “escaped” from was the vicious stabbing of his trim little schoolboy fingernails

Bad vibes

It appears that Lau also brought his canon game

Sebastian in the most recent chapters be like

I’ve actually never had this event come up before and it has to happen between two of the more innocent characters in the series;;;; god Lizzie you deserve better even in the Hunger Games Simulator

Where’s a Safety Nerd when you need one

What’s better than this? Guys bein dudes

This is probably what happened after Ciel left Weston

Sebastian will take care of this for ya, huh bud

Other events:

Agni practices his archery

Wolfram goes fishing

Othello finds a cave

Soma goes ‘splorin

Edward goes huntin

Day 1′s Deaths: Tanaka, Sieglinde, Lizzie, and Macmillan. Someday one of the ladies will win

Night 1

Butler slumber party in the woods, BYOYM (bring your own young master)

It takes a lot of energy to be this blond

I’m happy for her :)

Yeah I’ll bet you probably do Lau

A tonal shift so abrupt I got mental whiplash

Can we go back to when Grell was looking at the sky pls

Thought about science too hard. Got a concussion

Thought about Ciel dying too hard. Got an infection

Aww dad :( Hope you caught some fish tho

Looks like Harcourt won’t be winning this one, gang

I stg the hunger games simulator is misogynist because the ladies always DIE /j

Ran-Mao is hopefully here to prove the previous statement wrong

Other events:

Bard gets a hatchet

Undertaker also passes out from exhaustion

R!Ciel goes to sleep in a tree

Day 2

Oh you five are SO going in my burn book for this. It’s what Grell would’ve wanted

Ahaha just like in the real manga... right guys (;

Idk about you but I’m rooting for her

I don’t think the simulator could’ve picked four people who were less likely to team up than this

I would too if I saw my best friend was palling around with an opium dealer, a grim reaper with a lawn mower, and another grim reaper that the first grim reaper doesn’t like

Other events:

Othello chases Wolfram

That’s the only other event actually

That means today we lost O!Ciel, Mey-Rin, Harcourt, and Grell. ffs, I hope Ran-Mao kills all of you

Night 2

I’ve missed you, rare pair simulator

The “unknown sponsor” was Undertaker and the “fresh food” was O!Ciel

Confirmed: Lau doesn’t get high off his own supply

Once again a ceasefire between the strong hungry boys is formed

Girl, you don’t have to do that

“Did you kill Ciel?” Sebastian asks

“No that was William,” Othello says

Sebastian punches a tree so hard that it combusts. “God damn. Fuck” Sebastian says

Wolfram just realized I put him in the Hunger Games simulator

Other events:

Phipps thinks about “Are you winning son”

Undertaker gazes at space

Ronald becomes Lost Ronald

Soma passes out

Bard gets some water

Day 3

Damn Agni who haven’t you flirted with

Finny sees that Bard has water and thinks Bard cooked it himself, so he wants no part of that (might be burnt)

What did he even have that was worth stealing? A fish?

Well I can tell you who isn’t creating that smoke: Lau

“What’s worse than two young masters? No young masters. Now get over here and make a contract”

Everything about this sentence is a fever dream

Other events:

Undertaker decides he wants a slingy shot too

Edward chases Dad I mean Phipps

Othello gets some ouchies from picking berries

Night 3

When your young master dies, you just get an infection apparently

damn Finny’s playing hardball

I don’t think anything bad has actually happened to Bard yet. It’s just been a grand frolic the whole time

I barely remember reading the first Hunger Games but Ran-Mao’s the Foxface of this journey: she deserves to win and I just know she’ll die in the stupidest way possible

Sebastian’s like a cat that can’t reach the bird it wants to attack, so it attacks the nearest other thing instead. Poor Dad

Two white-haired anime boys and a not-white-haired anime boy talk about who will die tomorrow. Anime doesn’t exist yet so the white-haired anime boys don’t know their hair color automatically spells their doom

Other events:

Edward starts a fire, which means he’s capable of smoking opium

Ronald gets some medical supplies

Othello gets a hatchet

R!Ciel thinks about winning

Lau gets an entire explosive, but he won’t be able to light it, so no it’s no big deal

Day 4

In Soviet Hunger Games, white-haired anime boy kills you

But why murder someone when you could just mess with them

Other events:

Grey scares Bard

Finny goes hunting

Night 4

Have you four even killed anyone yet

The list of “people who didn’t start the manor fire and also don’t smoke opium” now consists of Lau and R!Ciel

The mood is too light now. Someone needs to die and it better not be Ran-Mao

At last, Father Phipps has chosen his son for this round

Agni gushes about all the hot guys he’s simultaneously in love with, giving Ran-Mao a clearer idea of who’s still alive

Day 5

Girl, it’s about time, go claim some trophies

Finny’s easily got the longest kill streak and it’s a little unnerving

Father Phipps finds a new secret fishing hole

Othello doesn’t

Lau continues to put in all the efforts of a kindergarten bully

Oh no. He’s a yandere

Other events:

Sebastian fucks around and explores the arena

Bard fucks around and hunts for tributes

Undertaker fucks around and sleeps

R!Ciel fucks around and picks flowers

Night 5

I’ve never met anyone who ships Sebastian/Undertaker but I know you’re out there

Okay, maybe these four are even less likely to team up than Phipps, Ronald, Undertaker, and Lau

Edward sees I’m making jokes about people who build fires and stays hidden

Day 6

Canonically, that is the only way R!Ciel would win a fight, so

I probably could have predicted this

I hope these are the faces they made when it happened

The “unknown sponsor” is R!Ciel and the “fresh food” is an ear that fell off his own head

I’m not sure if I should be concerned or unsurprised that Bard’s Hunger Games life is more chill than his canon life

the “unknown sponsor” was the fish and the “clean water” was “fish water”

Other events:

Ran-Mao gets her third weapon that she doesn’t want to use, which is a hatchet

Finny finds a river

Agni practices archery again, but he doesn’t kill anyone because he wants this to go on forever

Night 6

Ran-Mao I beg you please. Release us from this purgatory of mediocrity

And suddenly we’re back to canon Bard

I guess not everything can be canon

Other events:

Both Agni and Phipps pass out from exhaustion. It’s 2:50 a.m. so I should really be taking a page from their book, but unfortunately everyone refuses to die

The Feast

Finny has been a stone cold killer this entire match, so I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that the girl I wanted to win would get eliminated by him, but it still hurts ✌️😔

If you cheat on Othello, he will overpower you, killing you

Everyone else decided not to go to the Feast. Honestly, I don’t remember what the Feast is, but everyone who did go either murdered someone or got murdered, so I guess that was probably a good call

Day 7

I’ve had enough of this dude

Jesus Finny I can’t wait to see how many kills you got, I feel like you and Agni were the only two who took anyone down

Bard, Undertaker, Sebastian, and Phipps all hunt for other tributes but they’re useless and don’t kill anyone

Arena Event: Volcano Eruption

In one fell swoop, we lose Sebastian, Undertaker, R!Ciel, and Finny, jeez. But... that means it comes down to.............

FATHER PHIPPS VS. BARD

FATHER PHIPPS !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Wow... Unlike his manga counterpart, this boy coasted the whole time and won... He basically went on vacation and he actually won... But then again, it’s Hunger Games Simulator and nothing is sacred

Well I hope you learned a valuable lesson today. I hope you did at some point before you read my post, because you sure as hell learned nothing from this. Thank you for wasting precious minutes of your life with me 😏

#black butler #kuroshitsuji #kuroshitsuji hunger games simulator

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bleachbleachbleach · 3 years

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Do you ever stop and think "Mayuri has a (singular) really really long nail"?

lmao half this post was written before that Szayel ask and half was written after, so apologies is there’s any repetition or disjuncture across the two!!!

I'll be honest, anon, I often forget this detail! In the same way that I often forget that I have a giant full-color picture of Sunflower Mayuri set as one of my other desktop images, right up until I hit a rogue keyboard shortcut and am suddenly transported into his midst:

He's been lurking there for a full year and I am always taken by complete surprise.

I was actually poking around these chapters the other day, and I think what honestly I DO stop and think about is Mayuri's moral compass? Like, the fact that it exists. And I don't mean this in a "he acts like a sick freak but secretly he really cares" kind of way, or even a "he revels in his being a sick freak and doesn't realize he cares until he does" kind of way. The definition of "moral compass" here is absolutely a Mayuri Original Definition. He's totally invested in his various experiments to satiate his own personal agendas, but he actually does more "for the sake of Soul Society" than possibly anyone else, and... does a pretty good job of it? I imagine Soul Society would be less inclined to handwave whatever other shit he's got going on if he weren't, but my point is a weird amount of his time is honestly spent on things that benefit others, offer protection, etc. And again: Mayuri. Not a secret cinnamon roll. But he also can't be flatly read.

He's one of the few captains who seems willing to go toe-to-toe with Yamamoto about some of Yamamoto's leadership decisions--notably because he thought Yamamoto's Quincy genocide wasn't genocidal enough, er, but he also later insinuates that he disagrees with Yamamoto's conception of honor/patriotism--that the Gotei 13 serve 'til death, and that if you can't, then you should kill yourself. (Makes sense, given that Urahara drags him out of the Den of Maggots, so Mayuri's seen the fruits of this particular domestic policy first-hand.) He and Yamamoto are both dudes with often shitty opinions, but I think it makes them both more interesting that they are different shitty opinions.

I don't think his disagreement on that count is purely out of self-preservation/valuing self over others, either. Weirdly enough, I think he actually likes Soul Society and its observable phenomena (e.g. his colleagues), as long as it's not touching or interfering with whatever else he's got going on. He probably could have just killed dead Kensei/dead Rose/Matsumoto (and Hitsugaya, too), and that would have been a lot easier, but he went through the trouble of incapacitating/podding them. I mean, the man reads the SC cover to cover for fun. Sure, that's data, but let's be real--70% of those articles have got to be pure drivel.

And also like--I find Mayuri's fight with zombie!Hitsugaya extremely upsetting. I do not enjoy it at all. It feels horrible. But Mayuri doesn't even seem to enjoy it either? In the lead-up to it, he makes like three separate references to his own kind heart that are definitely not to be taken at face value, and talks a lot about the thrill of victims writhing against you, and how pleased he is to be able to test a bunch of new drugs on Hitsugaya, but then you get this face:

And it's not like he particularly likes Hitsugaya. (In fact, for reasons unknown, in the Bount arc Mayuri very specifically singles Hitsugaya out to be someone he Does Not Like! I imagine that as the Gotei 13 interacts with each other more often post-ryoka/Aizen, Hitsugaya is just more annoying to him. "Yes, we re-grew Hinamori's organs. Of course we did a good job! Get out of here, stop helicopter-captaining, ffs go micromanage your own division--")

I'm not saying that face is indicative of compassion. But he's not having all the fun he said he was going to.

I enjoy that a character like Mayuri can be humanized--here meaning “made complex” I guess--without that act suggesting that it should be attended with an assumption of goodness, or mercy, or redemption.

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

@ippoddity here, jumping onto this post~

I too, have Sunflower Mayuri as my desktop background (but my desktop is much more cluttered than @whipplefilter’s, so I won’t be showing a picture of it).

I didn’t really give much thought to Mayuri’s long fingernail either, except to think “Boy, that’s kind weird, but this guy’s whole vibe is creepy so it fits.” But then you got me to thinking about it more, and I started doing some digging. My first thought was “maybe this long fingernail is like the one that all those old Asian men have??” But it turns out that’s usually the pinky nail. Mayuri’s long fingernail is the middle finger of his right hand, and from what I can tell after looking at hundreds of panels of him, is that this is consistent throughout the series (someone please correct me if I’m wrong). I think you can see his nails pretty well in these shots:

What’s really standing out to me here isn’t just his long nail, but the fact that all his others are so short?? My initial impression was just that he had painted his nails half black/half white (kinda going along with his face), but on close-up here, it seems like his nails are actually cut really short. That just seems incredibly painful to me, and the only people I know that have nails this short are habitual nail-biters. So maybe he’s a nail biter? Which leads me to wonder why he leaves that middle nail on his right hand so long…

This is just a speculation, but you know those reset buttons on certain electronics that can only be reached with a needle or unfolded paperclip? I feel like a lot of older electronics were like this. ANYWAY, given all the modifications that Mayuri has given himself, I think this long nail is probably his version of a reset button tool. There’s no way he doesn’t have one somewhere on him, which he needs to hit for a hard reset when he messes something up. It’s gotta be a long and thin tool that can hit a reset button, and a fingernail is the perfect choice! It’s easily accessible, in fact, it’s already on his hand!

I would be remiss if I didn’t mention that Mayuri canonically takes off his makeup every night and reapplies it every day. We know that underneath it all, he’s a (somewhat) normal looking shinigami. And it seems like it would be kinda inconvenient to have that long nail all the time… So I think it might also be a stick-on nail??

#sorry this took so long to answer anon!#i spent WAY TOO MUCH TIME looking at Mayuri pics #we're back on the hands #and i guess fingernails now too #kurotsuchi mayuri #bleach manga #bleach カラー #bleach tybw #bleach meta #bleach #long post

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knuffled · 3 years

Text

Just Practice - Chapter 18

it’s finally over. here’s the last chapter. important notes at the end for those that are interested. thank you all so much for your support. it’s been a wild ride, and i’m glad i got to see it through to the end.

ao3 link

It was perhaps the first time that Annabeth had ever felt nervous standing in front of the Jackson residence. She shifted uneasily on her heels and wiped her palms on her jeans before knocking on the front door. Usually, she felt more at home here than anywhere else in the world, but she felt entitled to a little anxiety given the circumstances. Not long after, Sally opened the front door and showed her inside with a smile.

“Hi, honey. It’s been a while, huh?” Sally said.

Annabeth nodded and offered her a small smile. “Yeah. It has. Things have been pretty hectic lately.”

“Percy told me you were in the hospital for a while. Are you alright?” Sally said, closing the door behind her.

“Yeah, I just injured my leg at a meet,” Annabeth said.

“Oh no, what happened?” Sally asked, furrowing her brow.

“I, um, tore my ACL,” Annabeth mumbled. “It’s still recovering, but I can walk on my own now. It’ll be a while before I can start running again, though.”

“I am so sorry to hear that. I would have visited, but I’ve been out all month doing more of those goddamned book tours,” Sally huffed.

“Oh, it’s no problem,” Annabeth said. “I appreciate the thought though.”

There was a pause and Annabeth looked around the living room without meaning to. Sally gave her a smile and said, “If you’re looking for Percy, he’s upstairs in his room.”

Annabeth flushed and nodded. “Thanks. I’m gonna head on up then.”

“I’ll be taking Estelle out shopping, and Paul won’t be home until later today,” Sally informed her.

Annabeth blinked, somewhat confused. “Oh, alright. I’ll see you later then.”

“You should have plenty of time to yourselves,” Sally said, giving her a knowing look. “I’m guessing that you’ll need it judging by the sorry state that my son has been in the past few weeks.”

Annabeth’s face turned even redder and she nodded and made her way up to Percy’s room. She paused in front of his bedroom door and screwed her eyes and took a deep breath. Annabeth heard him in the shower, which diffused her nervousness before she stepped inside his room.

Percy’s bedroom hadn’t changed much, if at all, over the years. The room was sparsely decorated - almost nothing adorned the cream colored walls. There was still a full sized bed nestled against one corner of the room, draped with a fluffy blanket he hadn’t bothered to fold. Blue curtains framed a window overlooking the willow tree in his backyard, the one they used to climb when they were kids. On the other end of the room was an office chair, piled high with messy clothes, sitting in front of a well worn cherrywood desk. The desk was littered with stray homework papers, half-empty energy drinks, and a bobble head of some athlete Annabeth didn’t recognize.

Annabeth wandered over and looked at the four photos he had taped to the wall above the desk. One of them was with his mother at the beach in Montauk from back when he was a freshman. Another was one of the entire family at an amusement park. There was one with him and all of their friends sitting in front of a bonfire at Piper’s birthday party that past summer. And the final one was one of him with her, his hand thrown carelessly around her shoulder as she leaned into the crook of his neck, a contented smile on her face. The soft look on his face, like she had just hung the moon for him, brought a lump to her throat.

“Annabeth?”

Annabeth jumped back and turned to see Percy standing in the doorway, towel drying his hair. He was wearing an old swim team shirt from middle school and his penguin pajamas. The familiar scent of his body wash clung to his skin, unmasked by the cologne he usually wore. There was a careful expression on his face, like she had caught him unawares.

“H-Hey,” Annabeth said breathlessly.

“I, uh, wasn’t expecting you for another hour,” Percy said cautiously.

“Sorry,” Annabeth said, rocking on her heels. “Should I leave?”

“No, it’s fine,” Percy said quickly. “Why don’t you sit down?”

Annabeth nodded and sat on his bed. Percy rushed over to gather the clothes that had piled on top of the chair and hurriedly stuffed them in his closet. He hung the towel from his open window sill to dry and sat across from her in the office chair.

There was an uncharacteristically nervous look on his face, but it actually comforted Annabeth. She would have felt awkward if she was the only one feeling apprehensive.

“I, um, didn’t see you at school this week,” Annabeth said.

Percy rubbed the back of his neck. “Needed some time off. I haven’t been feeling very good.”

Guilt bubbled in the pit of Annabeth’s stomach. She knew that was her fault, but that he was too nice to tell her that.

She cleared her throat and said, “Sorry to hear that. Are you doing better now?”

Percy breathed a laugh and shrugged. “More or less.”

There was an awkward pause before Percy gestured to her leg. “How’s your knee?”

Annabeth glanced down at it and quickly looked back at him. “Oh, um, it’s fine. I had surgery done a few weeks back and it went well. I’ve started doing physical therapy now, but it’ll still be a while before I can start running again.”

“But you should make a full recovery, right?” Percy asked tentatively.

Annabeth nodded and stared down at her lap, playing with her fingers. “Yeah, the doctors said there shouldn’t be any issues since it was only a partial tear, but we won’t know for sure until I finish therapy.”

“That sounds like good news,” Percy said carefully.

Annabeth mustered a smile and said, “Yeah. About as good as I could hope for anyways.”

There was another brief pause and then Annabeth said, “I, um, also talked to the coach at Berkeley and told him about my injury.”

Percy’s leg bounced up and down. “And what did he say?”

“Well, he wasn’t happy about it,” Annabeth began. “But they’re not rescinding my scholarship.”

Percy made to move out of his seat and give her a hug, a grin splitting across his face, before he thought better of it and sat back down. A crushing sensation formed in the hollow of her chest as his grin waned into a sheepish smile.

“That’s wonderful, Annabeth,” Percy said softly. “I’m sure that’s a huge relief-”

“I’m sorry for how I acted at the hospital,” Annabeth blurted.

The smile slid off Percy’s face, but Annabeth powered through anyways. “You were only trying to help, and I lashed out at you for no good reason. That was awful of me, and I wanted to tell you how sorry I am for that.”

Percy nodded in a clipped manner and said, “Apology accepted.”

Annabeth was surprised that Percy hadn’t tried to downplay the whole thing by saying it wasn’t a big deal. A lump formed in her throat - her words must have cut deeper than she realized.

“It really hurt, hearing all that, but you had every right to say it,” Percy continued.

Annabeth shook her head and said, “No, I- I was just being cruel.”

He offered her a strained smile and shrugged helplessly. “You were still right though. About all of it. There’s no excuse for me not telling you about Kara, for hiding so much from you.”

Annabeth pursed her lips and resisted the urge to argue with him.

Percy hunched forward in his chair and ran his fingers through his hair violently. “I’ve been thinking about it non-stop, trying to figure out why I did that, but I still don’t really get it. I want to tell you, so badly, but there’s a part of me that just can’t. It’s really fucking frustrating and confusing.”

He paused and exhaled forcefully. “Honestly, the only thing it’s made me realize is how fucked up I am.”

The pain and bitterness in his voice tore up Annabeth inside. “That’s not true.”

“It is,” Percy said, shaking his head insistently. “I wish I could just show you somehow. Make you understand-”

“Percy, good person,” she stressed. “Maybe you can’t see it, but I can-”

“Well, you don’t actually know me,” Percy snapped.

Annabeth must have looked as devastated as she felt because Percy’s eyes immediately swelled with guilt and repentance.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that,” he said quietly.

“No, you’re right,” Annabeth admitted shakily. “I don’t really know you. I thought I did, but I was wrong.”

“That’s not your fault,” Percy insisted. “I’m just- it’s fucking impossible for me to ever let anyone actually see me.”

Then who have I been seeing this entire time?

The thought hung heavily in her mind but she forced herself to ignore it. Still, she found it hard not to let despair swallow her whole. She couldn’t help thinking about how Reyna had said that at a certain point, you had to accept that there was really nothing that you could do. She was clearly out of her depth here. Honestly, she stood a snowball’s chance in hell of actually saying something helpful.

She sat there in silence and watched the conflicted look on Percy’s face. His lips were pressed in a thin line and his eyes shone with focused intensity, like he was at a swim meet. If this was only going to cause him so much pain, she never should have told him she wanted to talk. At the same time, she couldn’t help feeling like she needed to do something for him. Whatever he was holding inside was clearly eating at him. She couldn’t just leave it alone and act like it wasn’t her problem. Percy never would have done so if their roles were reversed.

Percy surprised her by punching his leg in frustration and releasing a shuddering exhale before he looked at her and spoke.

“No- No matter what, I can’t help thinking this all points back to Gabe.”

Annabeth furrowed her brow. “Your step-father?”

Percy nodded and said, “I’ve been thinking about him a lot lately. It’s weird, but he’s wrapped up in all this. I just know it.”

Annabeth dug her fingernails into her palms. Percy never talked about Gabe, but Annabeth had more than an inkling of what he did - how some days Percy came to school with a sullen look, wincing when he sat down, and gingerly probed parts of his body when he thought nobody was watching; days when he hardly smiled or even said a word to her and she would wordlessly slide him her homework at lunch to copy.

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” Annabeth said.

Despite what Piper said about needing to press Percy, Annabeth knew there were some wounds that were better left untouched.

Percy balled his hands into fists and shook his head. “No, I have to. Otherwise, I’ll lose you for good.”

Annabeth’s heart squeezed in her chest, so she took his hands in hers and said, “Look Percy, I don’t want to pressure you into doing something you’re uncomfortable with. It’s fine if there are things you can’t talk about. You have nothing to prove to me. No matter what, you’re still my best friend, and you’re never going to lose me. Okay?”

“Really?” Percy asked quietly.

The way his voice sounded, raw and bleeding, made self-loathing fester in the pit of her stomach.

“Yes, really,” Annabeth said tersely. “I’m so sorry that I forced you into a corner like this. I was wrong about what I said at the hospital. I did something terrible to you.”

“Don’t say that, Annabeth,” Percy said tightly. “It’s not your fault. At all. You’ve been nothing but endlessly patient with me. I- I’m just not strong enough.”

Annabeth shook her head. “You’re the strongest person I know, but you don’t have to do this all on your own. There’s probably not a whole lot that I can do to help, but at least I can help share your burden and listen.”

Percy was quiet for a minute before he looked at her with a hard gaze. “Are you sure about this? It’s not a very fun story to listen to.”

“Yes,” Annabeth said immediately.

“If it ever gets to be too much, let me know,” Percy said sternly.

Annabeth took his hand in hers and squeezed it. “Don’t worry about me. I’m here for you.”

Percy exhaled forcefully and nodded before staring down at his lap. A minute or two passed before he was ready to speak again, and Annabeth could see conflict and pain swirl in his eyes like whirlpools of emotion.

“He was nice at the start, you know?” Percy said quietly. “He wasn’t all that bad the first few months after they got married. Sometimes he’d get me some candy on his way home from work. Teach me how to throw a baseball. Normal stuff like that. But then, at some point, things changed. Still can’t figure out why. Like, was he just hiding how awful he was the entire time or did something change in him? Guess it doesn’t matter now.”

He paused for a moment and said, “The first time I remember him hitting her, I was eight years old. He was really tearing into me about getting in trouble at school, telling me how much of a fuck up I was, how I was a stupid kid who couldn’t do anything right, and mom defended me.”

“At some point, he got so pissed he chucked a plate at my head and barely missed. It shattered on the wall and gave me this,” Percy said, tugging down his shirt sleeve to reveal the crescent shaped scar on his shoulder.

Annabeth traced the scar with trembling fingers and tried to stomach the nausea and rage she felt brewing inside her.

“Mom went ballistic after that, but that just pissed him off,” Percy said slowly. “Gabe hit her so hard her head hit the wall and started bleeding. You can still see the dent downstairs in the living room. Then, he grabbed me by the hair and forced me to look at her, crumpled on the floor. I can still remember the stink of cheap cigarettes on his breath and him whispering in my ear, ‘This is all your fault, kid.’”

“Christ,” Annabeth whispered.

“Yeah, I know right,” Percy said, smiling wryly. “And that’s just one story - I have hundreds of them. Like, remember how I forgot my field trip form to the zoo in 5th grade?”

When Annabeth nodded, Percy said, “Well, they had to send me home because there weren’t any teachers at school that day. Mom was at work, so Gabe had to pick me up. He was super pissed that I made him miss his poker game, so he was bitching at me the entire ride home. At some point, I snapped and told him to fuck off. Next thing I know, he punches me in the stomach so hard that I puked all over the floor of his Camaro. Of course, that only made him even angrier, so he beat the shit out of me and made me clean up the mess.”

Annabeth tried to keep her voice steady. “Tell me you told somebody.”

Percy smiled humorlessly and said, “And who would I tell? My mom? The woman working three jobs, married to an abusive piece of shit that hits her, with a kid who only ever seems to fuck up at school and embarrass her? No, she had enough on her plate as it was. I couldn’t add more.”

“Then the teachers-”

“Annabeth, you remember how it was for me in school. The teachers hated me,” Percy said bitterly. “To them, I was just a trouble-maker. How could I turn to them? And besides, even if I did, what good would it do? Gabe would just deny it and take it out on me or mom later.”

Percy leaned back in his chair and sighed. “Eventually, I just got used to it. He was smart about it too. Always made sure my mom wasn’t around and that the wounds wouldn’t show anywhere someone might see. And over time, it just become something normal, and I got used to never telling someone about it.”

He paused for a moment and clutched at the fabric of his shirt, over his stomach. “Even telling you right now is like physically painful for me. Like my stomach is in knots and every cell in my body is telling me to run. A part of me keeps whispering, no matter how much I try and ignore it, that I’m not allowed to ask for help, that I- that I deserve this because it’s my fault.”

Annabeth took a sharp inhale and bit her quivering lower lip to keep from crying. She had always known Percy had had a troubled life, but she had never expected that it would be this horrific. He was the best person that she knew and he deserved so much more than this. It was profoundly unfair and tragic and wrong and she didn’t know how to fix it or if it was even possible to fix it.

“None of that was your fault, Percy,” Annabeth said tersely. “He was a sick, twisted piece of shit, and you shouldn’t believe a single word that came out of his mouth.”

“I’ve been telling myself that for the past five years, Annabeth, but there’s some part of me that doesn’t believe it,” Percy said softly. “That fucked up shit he did and said to me is still there, rattling around in my head, and I can’t make it stop.”

He balled his hands into fists. “He sort of beat into me that I was responsible for everything. It was always my fault because I was a bad kid or a fuck up. And he was kind of right too. Mom was having such a hard time back then and I never made things easier for her either, always getting into trouble at school. I tried to be a good kid. I really did. It just wasn’t ever good enough. I just kept letting people down and that hasn’t ever stopped.”

Before Annabeth could interject, he looked at her and said, “You asked me at the hospital why I never told you about Kara. The truth is that I hate myself for being so shitty to her. Like, I drove her into a corner and made her feel so insecure and alone that I forced her into cheating on me. I should’ve been a better boyfriend to her-”

“Percy, what Kara did was her own decision,” Annabeth interrupted. “Maybe you could have done a better job, but you can’t force someone to cheat on you. Kara even admitted that it was her fault and said she wanted to apologize to you for it.”

He stared at her for a few beats and a myriad of conflicted emotions flashed in his eyes before he shrugged noncommittally and turned away. Annabeth ground her teeth together and moved off the bed before she even realized what she was doing. She framed his face with her hands and forced him to look into her eyes.

“Listen to me, you are a good person,” Annabeth said tightly.

Percy averted his gaze. “I’m really not, Annabeth. I’m just trying to make up for the fact that I’m- well, me.”

“And I’m telling that it’s okay not to be perfect! Because that’s the standard you’re holding yourself to! We all hurt and let each other down, Percy. That’s fucking normal!” Annabeth fumed.

“What’s the fucking point if nothing ever changes?” Percy shouted, his voice cracking. “I try and try and try, and I still keep hurting the people I care about, and I’m just- I’m so fucking sick of it, Annabeth.”

“People hurt each other all the time, Percy, sometimes just by existing! You’re looking at a prime fucking example of that,” Annabeth shouted, jabbing a thumb at herself.

“Like, how many times have I hurt you through my own carelessness? And yeah, it breaks my heart sometimes knowing how awful I’ve been to you, but I’m trying to be better because you’re the most important person in the world to me and I don’t want to lose you. And I learned that from you! Because isn’t that what you’ve always done? Tried to be better?” she demanded.

At this, Percy was silent, and Annabeth sat back on the bed, sighing. “That’s what actually matters, Percy: the fact that you’ve never stopped trying. You don’t always have to nail yourself to the cross anytime you fail.”

There was a pause before Percy quietly said, “I- I don’t know how not to.”

“Well, it starts by acknowledging that it’s okay to put yourself first sometimes,” Annabeth said, softening her voice. “Your mom once told me that you would rather put yourself in pain to ease someone else’s suffering, that you feel responsible for how others feel. Like, I know that Gabe was the one that taught you that, but that’s really fucking unhealthy. You need to see a professional therapist or counselor to help you process all the shit he put you through and teach you a better way to handle it.”

“And what if that doesn’t work? What if it’s too late to help me?” Percy asked.

“Then we’ll figure it out when the time comes,” Annabeth said, repeating what he had told her at the hospital.

“I’m not sure I’m worth all that effort,” Percy said tightly.

“Well, I’m your best friend and I think you’re the sweetest, kindest boy there ever was and that you’re worth the whole world,” Annabeth said.

She thought he would argue with her again, but she was surprised when Percy scrunched up his face and looked away from her, blinking back tears. He rubbed at his eyes with the back of his hand and nodded with a sniffle. Her heart welled up inside her chest and she felt a sense of fond exasperation rush through her, making her smile to herself.

Oh, you dumb, stupid boy.

“Thank you,” Percy mumbled.

Annabeth shook her head, even though he couldn’t see her. “There’s nothing to thank me for.”

It was a while before he looked at her again, and when he did, he looked up at her shyly through his stupidly long eyelashes.

“D-Did you mean what you said in the hospital?” he whispered.

“Hmm?”

Percy’s face turned a gentle shade of vermilion. “Um, about being in love with me?”

Annabeth’s face turned serious. “Yes. I should have chosen a better time, but I meant it. One hundred percent.”

“Oh.”

She couldn’t help the way her lips curled upwards. “That’s all you have to say to me? ‘Oh’?”

Percy’s face turned even redder. “Um, I’ve been dreaming about this moment for like seven years, so you’ll have to forgive me for the fact that my brain is kind of fried right now.”

Annabeth raised an eyebrow and tried not to look smug. “Seven years, huh? That is a long time to hold your peace.”

“In my defense, you always hated it when people said anything about us dating, so I tried to kill off that part of myself and fully commit to just being friends,” Percy said.

“I’m sorry about that,” Annabeth said seriously. “I must have hurt you a lot.”

“It was painful,” Percy admitted. “But I was happy enough staying by your side.”

“The whole fake dating thing was super tone deaf then on my part, huh?” Annabeth said quietly.

“I should have refused, but I couldn’t help myself,” Percy said, grimacing. “I wanted to pretend, even if it was just for a little while, that you actually liked me back. It was a pretty bad idea, but I even tried dropping a bunch of hints since I couldn’t tell you how I felt, in the hopes that it might change something, I don’t know.”

“Well, it wasn’t all bad,” Annabeth said. “It got me to realize a whole bunch of things. Without that whole fiasco, I don’t think we’d be where we are right now.”

Percy cleared his throat and said, “And where is that exactly?”

Annabeth sat up straighter and folded her hands on her lap. “Well, for starters, I’d like to start dating you. For real this time.”

“Are you sure?” Percy asked, furrowing his brow. “We’ll have to be long distance once the fall rolls around.”

“I’m sure,” Annabeth said firmly. “Besides, we’ll be in the same state.”

“Would be nice if we were closer instead of on opposite ends,” Percy said, sighing.

Annabeth shrugged and said, “It’s a five hour and forty-two minute drive, so not all bad.”

“And you know that off the top of your head?” Percy asked, grinning.

“I, um, checked on Google maps.”

Percy gave her a smarmy look and raised an eyebrow. “Hmm, so you came here today planning expecting to ask me out, huh?”

Annabeth shoved him and bit back a smile. “I checked back in December, you jerk.”

Percy made a show of wincing and said, “Alright, alright, take it easy.”

There was a pause before Annabeth folded her arms over her chest and said, “You still haven’t properly answered me, by the way.”

“I thought it went without saying that I would say yes,” Percy said, blinking.

Annabeth’s face turned a little pink. “I- I still want to hear you say it.”

Percy ducked his chin for a moment and looked at her shyly. “Yes, I would love to go out with you.”

Her heart beat a little faster in her chest and exhilaration washed through her. “Nice.”

Percy blinked for a moment and nodded sagaciously. “Yes, nice.”

Annabeth shoved him again and ended up tackling him off his chair and fell on the floor with him. He wrapped an arm around her and laughed, and the sound reverberated through his skin and warmed her right through her bones. They lay like that for a while, tangled in each other, while he played with her hair.

Eventually, she looked up at him and cleared her throat. “So what happens next?”

Percy raised an eyebrow. “Why are you asking me?”

“You’re the one with all the dating experience,” Annabeth protested hotly.

Percy tried for a shrug and said, “Beats me. We could go get some celebratory shakes at Martha’s maybe?”

When Annabeth was quiet, he looked down at her and said, “Did you have something else in mind?”

“Well, um, if you were open to it, I would like to kiss you now,” Annabeth mumbled.

A beat passed before Percy bit back an enormous grin. “Sounds agreeable to me.”

“Don’t make me deck you again,” Annabeth warned.

“Alright, you absolute terror.”

“Dullard.”

“Always so mean, Chase.”

“Shut up, Jackson.”

“Are we gonna kiss or what?”

“You’re supposed to be the one leading, dumbass. I’ve never done this before, remember?”

“Okay well, for starters, don’t bash your nose into mine like that.”

“Oh my god, I actually hate you.”

“What you have a problem with the way I’m ‘leading’?”

“Just shut up and kiss me, you idiot.”

“Alright, no need to get so testy.”

....

“Okay?”

“U-Um, yeah. Could we, uh, do it again? You know, just for practice?”

“Sure. Just for practice.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“Just so you know: it’s too late for take backs.”

“Too late?”

“Yeah, way too late.”

....

“I love you.”

“I know. Now, can we go back to the kissing, please?”

....

“You’re not gonna break my heart, are you, Annabeth Chase?”

“I won’t.”

....

“And I love you too.”

#percabeth fic #percabeth #percy jackson #annabeth chase #percabeth fake dating au #fake dating au

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binniesthighs · 3 years

Text

in my arms | jisung x reader |

Pairing: self insert, female reader x han jisung

Genre: fluff n smut

Warnings: switch!reader, switch!jisung, established relationship, explicit language, oral (m&f giving and receiving), teasing, body praise, pretty dang fluffy ngl, cum swallowing, back scratching

Word count: 2.3k

this drabble is inspired by jisung’s most recent vlog where he was just chillin’ and being so soft and cozy I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it huhu I hope that you enjoy my first post ever ♡

“You’re not falling asleep are you?” You gently nudge jisung’s head where it was resting on your shoulder. You didn’t have the heart to tell him, but you had spent the last 20 minutes or so trying to ignore the pins and needles that the weight gave your arm.

“--nO!” He squeaked, then rather sleepily rose his head leaving you to try to shake your arm back to life in the least conspicuous way possible.

“I though you said that this was your favorite movie?” You brushed a few rogue strands of his warm brown hair out of his eyes, letting your fingers linger for a moment to savor its addictive softness.

Jisung pouted while he fixed his baggy white tee collar which had fallen under his collarbones. His eyes didn’t catch you sneaking a peak.

“I wouldn’t sleep through my favorite movie.”

“Really?” You cocked an eyebrow up with a growing smile, meeting his eyes which had become as baggy as his shirt.

“Didn’t I tell you? I’m pretty sure that I know every line from that movie; I used to watch it all the time growing up.”

You chuckled a little at his oh-so-common habit of forgetting the little things. “I’m pretty sure you have told me that before.”

“And I told you how I wanted to learn the piano song as well? And--”

“--and it was too hard for you to learn?” You snickered, “You’ve told me that as well. Someone’s sleepy brain needs to get some rest...can you put the laptop over on the desk for me real quick?”

“Sure.” He nodded, and tore off the fluffy down comforter off of the two of you. You had wished that he had given a warning considering the sudden blast of cold air that met your bare legs when he did so. At the same time, you could never stay mad at him for long, not when he looked like that.

Jisung looked perfectly cuddly in that moment--even more so than usual. His long white tee made it look like he wasn’t wearing his boxers at all, and his hair was perfectly tussled into an adorable looking mess from resting on you. You looked down to his legs and all you wanted was to have them entangled with yours. He turned to return back to bed when you noticed that the little mole on his right collarbone had made an appearance. You made a note to give it a kiss as soon as you got the chance.

As soon as Jisung was back in the bed where it was all toasty, everything felt right again. “Reach the light?

“M’kay.” You answered to twist the switch.

Once all of the lights were off, the two of you sunk into each other, completely wrapped up as close as you possibly could be, skin on skin, the softness of fabric; you could feel him gently breathing from where he had pulled your head into his chest.

He sighed deeply, exhaling. You were half expecting him to concede and tell you that he really was feeling tired, when he whispered the exact opposite. “Well now that I’m awake I can’t fall back asleep.”

“But I thought you said you weren’t sleeping...?” You let out a breathy laugh which made him draw you in closer.

“Shhhh.” He hushed. Jisung then took his hands to the back of your head where he began to play with your hair, massaging your scalp slightly. The sensation was amazingly relaxing and you started to feel your own eyes grow heavy...

You whispered into the dark room, “Mmm that feels so nice.”

“Y/n?”

“Yeah?”

“I...heh...don’t get mad at me for this one but...I’m kind of...you know...”

You pulled your head back, knowing exactly what he meant.

“Right now?”

“...yeah.”

“Is there like a reason, or something? I mean, I wasn’t really doing anything--”

“--There doesn’t need to be a reason...honestly.” Even in the dark of the room you could feel his little nervous smile. “But I mean, we’re in bed, and I’ve got you: so soft and warm all around me, in my arms...are you surprised? You just do that to me.” Jisung’s hand migrated over to rest on your cheek, carefully caressing it with his thumb.

The more that he talked about it, the more you lost yourself in him...as usual. He really had an effect on you as well. You suddenly became even more aware of your legs intertwined and the pressure it created.

“We don’t have to, or-or we could keep it short, I know that you have work tomorrow.”

“Are you trying to convince me to mess around with you right now?” You asked with a creeping smirk in the corner of your mouth.

Jisung shied his head away slightly. “Kind of.”

Upon his words you felt it. Down where you had nearly straddled your legs around him, he was growing harder and you could feel him lightly throbbing. It was a lot to show just for talking.

His breaths quickened and he pulled your head in closer to his, ghosting his lips over yours letting his hot breath tickle your skin. You knew that he was aching to touch you, and you, him.

Jisung whispered on your lips, “Do you want to?”

Your response was quickly given to him when you crashed your lips into his, and he returned with so much hunger, you could have thought that he hadn’t been kissed in months--but of course that wasn’t true. The truth was you could never keep your lips off of him. He knew what it was like and how diligent you could be, making sure that he was covered in them, nothing untouched, and it drove him crazy.

You swung your leg over his hip, and pulled him into you with your thigh as he grabbed a huge handful of your skin to steady himself. His fingernails dug into you with a delightful sting, and you kept working on his mouth, dragging your lips over his both slow and fast, whatever he wanted, it was what you did. Your tongues met in the middle of the heat and slicked over each other with a taste that sent you reeling. Jisung moved his hands to your back where they snuck up your shirt and he traced gentle lines all over. To sweeten it all, you grinded down into his lap, seeking a sensation that your now soaked underwear craved.

“--fuck.” Jisung gasped into your mouth.

He hastily tugged your shirt to the side, lending eager hands to fondle your breasts while his lips never left yours. He had decided to slow down his pace a little bit as he ran over your mouth more, being careful like he didn’t want to scare you. His fingers started to twist your nipples lightly and they quickly hardened. Below your hips, your whole core started to whine with desire for the warmth of his mouth to give it attention. Jisung pinched your bud just right, and it sent you gasping for air against him.

“You like that?” He jested for a second, even you could still see his bright smile in the darkness of the room.

You nodded quickly, hoping he would keep going if you said less.

“God.” He marveled at you for a minute. “You’re just so--”

“--Are you about to say something cheesy Han Jisung?” You lifted your arms to trace the outlines of his shoulder blades behind him, giggling.

“You’re everything.” He leaned down to plant a kiss on your forehead before letting his hands get back to work. He buried his head into your neck, fluttering kisses everywhere that he could only pausing to suck lightly. “You’re...my...everything.” He got out between kisses.

“You’re my...Jisung...” You tugged at his back while he kept flicking your sensitive buds between his fingers. When he was doing so you couldn’t keep your thoughts straight. You wanted so badly to tell him a million words and more about how he was your whole world too, but all you could manage was, “Please...more.”

“You want more baby?”

“Ye--”

He swooped down to bring his mouth to your hard bud, twisting his tongue around it while he cupped it too. With his tongue flat he looked up to you with his gorgeous brown eyes. From how good he was at just this, you could feel yourself getting closer by the second. Your legs crossed tightly to try and relieve some of the pressure. You scraped your nails up his back, getting impatient and eliciting a low groan from him.

“I’m ready.” You prompted and he immediately knew what you wanted, you didn’t even have to say a word.

Jisung cascaded kisses down your stomach, giving some well planned ones to your waist when he got there to give special attention the the stretch marks there. Ever since you had mentioned not liking them, he couldn’t keep his lips off them.

“Gorgeous.” He calmly said, and settled between your thighs.

Your body jerked when he took his thumb to lightly rub circles into your clit, bringing little moans and gasps from your lips. Jisung mischievously snickered to himself over the power that he held over you. He would stop rubbing every few seconds just to hear you whine. At last he pulled your underwear from your legs and you felt the touch of his fingers directly on your clit; he used his other hand to pull your leg back, digging into it like before and it made your whole body shiver. At this point, you had absolutely no control over the sounds coming from your mouth. Wherever he touched, you felt electric.

He darted his pointed tongue around your clit in circles, then would switch to lapping at it agonizingly slow. Over time, your whimpers became more and more desperate.

“Do you wanna cum?” He asked with cockiness laced in his voice.

Your thighs had began to shake without warning. “Ye-yes.”

“Then do it. Cum for me.” Jisung commanded, returning back to his work.

Your mind went completely blank once your orgasm hit you hard. It came it waves, and it only made you shake harder.

After a little chuckle in spite of himself, he brought himself back up to give you more kisses, holding your face is his hands once again.

You came down, feeling more energized than before, and even more desperate to do one thing.

“Your turn.” You commanded of him now, shoving him to his back, leaving a surprised look on his adorably squirrel-like face.

You hastily pulled his shirt up to ravage his chest with your mouth, dragging your burning lips all over the skin and tasting every bit of him that you could. From the sensation he appeared to melt into the bed, taking in shaky inhales while he tangled his fingers in your hair. Just a bit farther down, he was still throbbing under his boxers.

“You ready?” You quickly asked, and he nodded back, teeth catching his bottom lip.

He helped you snag off his boxers, revealing his dripping member pink and ready. You thought to yourself how it just was just so fucking cute when he was excited like that. Instinctually your mouth started to gather with saliva. You decided to use your hand first, pumping it slow and hard, just as you knew that he liked it.

“oh shit--” He moaned out. The words got caught a little in his throat, and that only made him sound even more heavenly.

His eyes were closed, but yours were drawn to him as you kept going. Watching him like this made you feel a surge of confidence that was like a drug. You could do this to him.

“m-more.”

“Look who is asking for more now?” You grinned.

“Y/n. please. You’re driving me fucking crazy.” His grip tightened on your head.

“You want it like this?”

Without a warning you brought your mouth down to the tip and started licking around it in long strokes and bringing it in just slightly, you didn’t want him feeling all of you just yet.

“oh god.”

“Feels good?”

“Yes. Fuck yes. Just--keep going.”

You teased him for just a little longer than you usually did, just to see what would happen. Of course you should have expected, the longer you waited, the more of a mess he became.

“Y/n, fuck, please.”

You finally caved. “Well since you asked so nicely.”

You brought your head all the way down, taking him completely in and squeezing with your hand just as hard. You hollowed your throat down to take in as much of him as you could without gagging: over the past few months you had perfected it.

“shit-I’m close.” Jisung hissed and buckled his hips.

You took his announcement as an indicator to speed up, so you did. Jisung’s moans and frustrated sighs fueled you further with how beautiful and downright erotic as they sounded. When he came it was unreal, his breaths were so fast one after the other it was almost like he was suffocating with his own pleasure. You held him firmly in your mouth as he finished throbbing, not sacrificing one drop.

As soon as he had a moment to breathe, he pulled you back into his arms and attacked you with kisses all over your face, it didn’t matter where; he was smiling through every one of them. He would pull back then to admire you one more time and your hair which was now in knots thanks to his grip from before.

“that was...”

“Amazing?”

“Yes.” He grinned and gave you a peck to your forehead. “And now I’m tired. I guess we succeeded in more ways than one.”

The two of you put your clothes back on from the light of phone flashlights then crawled back in, sweeping the comforter over top of you once again.

“Jisung?” you nuzzled into him, inhaling his comforting scent all around you.

“Mmm?”

“You’re my everything too.”

#skz smut #stray kids smut #stray kids #jisung x reader #jisung x y/n #han smut #han jisung smut #stray kids imagine #stray kids drabble #kpop smut #kpop imagine #kpop drabble #i hope that it was a fun time hehe #my first post ever uwu #switch reader #switch jisung #i LIVE for switch Jisung

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draconic-ichor · 3 years

Text

In the Steel Steeds Heart

Chapter 17: Lingering Touch

Warnings: strong language, sexual themes, blood, penetrative sex, oral sex, breeding kink, heat, sex toys, overstimulation

Summary: Juniper wakes up after the Bloodmoon… but something feels different

Feedback appreciated. 18+

This is a smut heavy chapter folks….

Juniper awoke in their bed. Her muscles were sore and she felt incredibly hungry. She raised her hand to touch her face, but a sharp thorn of pain rippled through the bones of her arm. Juniper looked down, seeing her arm wrapped up in thick bandages.

She made a tiny sound of alarm, trying to sit up. Her memories were coated in a thick fog of the night before, the only thing that was at the forefront was the taste on her tongue:

Blood.

Was it her own? She was obviously injured. But oh god, what if it wasn’t. If her stomach wasn’t a yawning emptiness she might have retched.

Juniper heard the speakers rattle to life overhead.

“You awake buttercup?” Heisenberg’s voice sounded.

“Y-yea…” she answered.

“You sit tight and rest.” His voice ordered, “I’ll be up after I finish up down here, and I better not see your ass out of that room.”

As the speakers died Juniper huffed annoyed.

She shakily stood, making her way to the kitchen. She rummaged through the fridge and cabinets, desperately wanting to fill her belly and wash the taste from her mouth.

Juniper ended up making the biggest sandwich she’d ever made: it consisted of multiple layers of cheese and meats, even adding what little veggies she could find onto it.

She sat at the table, wolfing it down hungrily. She felt like her insides were hollow. As she neared the end of her meal Heisenberg came through the door to check on her.

He looked over the disorderly kitchen, shooting her an amused smile, “Hungry, kitten?”

She nodded, her mouth full of her most recent bite.

Heisenberg chuckled, striding past and sifting through the mess to make himself something.

Juniper swallowed, then asked, “What happened?”

Heisenberg gave a deep sigh, “Well…long story short, you turned into the big bitch again.”

Juniper grew quiet, trying to think.

Heisenberg went on, “I don’t know what you did, you fucking ran off on me. Found you in the stronghold, had a gunshot wound.” He gestured to her arm. Juniper felt it over swallowing again.

“D-Did I hurt anyone?” She asked tentatively.

Heisenberg gave her a long look before answering honestly, “I’m not sure Doll…but you were covered in blood…”

She read between the lines, nodding.

Shrugging Heisenberg picked up his plate to sit next to her, “It comes with the territory, buttercup. We all lose control early on.”

He reached out and took her hand in his gloved one, “It’ll get easier.”

Juniper nodded again, meeting his eyes.

The next few days went by slowly. Juniper felt restless and hot. Her skin felt sensitive and the hunger morphed into something more, a different emptiness and need filled her.

She sat down in the workshop, and Juniper was in a mood, the type of mood where she strove to be the biggest nuance she could be. It had long since worn Heisenberg thin, her status to him the only thing keeping him some semblance of calm.

“Buttercup…” Heisenberg hissed through clenched teeth, “You are really starting to piss me off.”

She pulled the tool she’d been lightly tickling him with away with a little whine. She wanted attention, wanted to be touched.

“How about you go back to the apartment.” It was more of an order, “Let me work.”

She begrudgingly did what she was told, returning to the apartment dejectedly. Sitting on the edge of the bed she fidgeted with the edge of her dress.

As the hours went on the feeling sharpened into a deep desire. Her body erupted into a cold sweat, muscles twitching under the skin. Her mind felt foggy and heavy.

Heisenberg finally entered the apartment, after he'd finished with the tasks he set before him that day. The second he was through the threshold Juniper was on him. She was unclothed, eyes dilated.

“Hello, Doll.” He gave a cocky smile as she started pulling his coat off. He let her as he slowly walked towards the bed.

Juniper pushed Heisenberg back onto the bed. He made a sound as he hit the mattress, chuckling once he got his breath.

“You ok buttercup?” He smiled cockily, watching as she practically ripped the rest of her clothing from herself.

“No.” She shook her head, crawling over him. Her eyes were dark and lustful, sweat gathering on her brow.

“I’m so horny.” She huffed out, “So horny it hurts!”

“Hey now.” He chuckled as she started to undo his belt. Juniper looked up at him almost annoyed before continuing.

“So am I going to be the pillow princess tonight?” He folded his arms behind his head showily.

Juniper struggled to get him undressed, her hands shaking a bit.

“You can be whatever you want.” She almost growled.

When his cock was free she found it with her mouth hungrily. Heisenberg made a sound of surprise as she lathed over him with her tongue.

She looked up at him with half lidded eyes, vision of a predator. His smirk faltered, her smell hitting him. She smelled sweet and alluring.

He licked his lips, realizing she’d been acting strangely since the bloodmoon.

Had its primal song sent her into a mock heat?

He didn’t have long to muse, she was on him. She trapped him between her thighs, letting out a ragged breath. Heisenberg rubbed up her legs softly, aware of her dripping core.

He smiled roguishly, thinking he was in for a good night.

Juniper bounced on him, seemingly unrelenting. Heisenberg’s eyes were shut, his jaw tight. His muscles would tighten with every movement of her hips. Her hands found his shoulders, beginning to buck faster as another orgasm inched ever closer.

Heisenberg had already come multiple times, concentrating more on holding himself together now then focusing on whatever she was doing.

Her walls clenched down on him, milking his cock. Juniper threw her head back, playing with her own piercings as she cried out.

Heisenberg writhed underneath her, unable to hide his sounds. He moaned loudly, gripping her hips as she kept up her onslaught. His thighs trembled with pleasure under her.

“F-Fuck buttercup!” He moaned out, huffing out hotly. His idea of the night was quickly turning over to survival.

Juniper couldn’t find real relief, her body searched it out with unending energy. His smell was driving her wild: a mix of musk and sweat. She ran her fingers through Heisenberg’s chest hair, drawing out a shutter from him.

Had it been hours? How many times did he spill out into her?

Heisenberg didn’t know, overstimulation and pleasure bleed together into a cocktail of primal passion that made his head spin. He was usually the one with higher stamina but Juniper was a force to be reckoned with in this state.

“Doll?” Heisenberg groaned out, when she didn’t stop he grabbed her hips hard.

Juniper mewled in protest.

“Doll, I need a drink.” He shook his head, “You’re fucking killing me here.”

She made a sound of distress as he lifted her off of him. Juniper pouted up at him.

“God damn.” Heisenberg tried to stand, his legs almost buckling under him.

He made his way to the kitchen, nearly falling into the sink. He bent forward, cranking his neck to drink straight from the tap needily. Water trickled down his chin, getting caught in his beard. Shutting off the water, he had a ragged breath.

He turned, seeing her still on the bed, rubbing her thighs together.

Sighing heavily he spoke, “How about I get that toy I made for you, hm?”

“Don’t go!” Juniper stood, worry making her shake.

“I’ll be quick.”

“Can I come with you.”

“It’ll be faster if you’re not hanging all over me buttercup.” He admitted, seeing her wilt.

“I’ll come right back and play with you for a while with the toy…Give me a bit of a breather.” He admitted, “Then I’ll be top for a while. See if that’ll help.”

She gave him a tiny nod.

He was true to his word, as he most often was, returning promptly with the toy in hand. He pulled up a char before the bed, sitting heavily down.

“Get on your knees, in the bed.” He instructed, using his powers to pull his cigar case towards him. She crawled onto the bed, lifting her butt up in the air. She waited impatiently as he cut and lit a cigar. He took a long drag before mentally bringing the toy over to her.

She made a little cry as the cold metal speared into her. Heisenberg leaned back in the chair, watching as he used the device to piston into her, setting a quick pace.

A mixture of her own slick and his come ran down her thighs from her swollen cunt.

He kept this up for a long while, removing the toy to press against her clit from time to time. He loved to just sit and watch her fall apart.

The way her legs trembled and her back arched to get better angles. He’d never seen her so feverish to fuck, unused to being the one running out of stamina.

When he felt his strength return with a second wind he pulled the toy free of her. It fell wetly to the floor with a metallic clink. Juniper made a little sound from the loss of sensation.

Juniper started to move, turning to look at him.

Heisenberg stood growling, “Stay right there. Ass up.”

She complied, wiggling her hips a bit enticingly. He stood behind her, marveling at the artwork of flesh before him. He ran his palms over the plush of her ass and down her soft thighs, earning a mewl from her.

“You want to act like a needy bitch, you’ll be fucked like one.” He spoke huskily as he lined himself with her opening.

He speared into her without mercy. If she wanted to be fucked in oblivion he would do his damndest to comply. He set a fast rough pace, hearing her cry out every time he hilted fully in her flesh.

“Yea this is what you fucking wanted, wasn’t it?” He growled, pounding into her. She made a sound, lips open and wavering.

He smacked her ass hard, “Want my pups you, needy Bitch?”

“Y-yes!” She cried.

“Tell me.” He thrust faster, fingernails digging into the skin of her hip.

“I want your pups!” Screamed out as an orgasm washed over her.

Heisenberg groaned out, feeling her walls fluttering around him.

Her nerves were shot, pleasure numbing every extremity. He was finally fucking all thought from her.

“That’s it.” He moaned, feeling her finally submitting fully.

Their hips clapped together loudly, almost drowning out the wet sound. Juniper mewled under him.

He gave a few more savage thrusts, gripping her hips enough to bruise as he buried his cock in her. His balls tightened as he filled her with everything he still had, roaring out like a Lycan.

He fell forward, stomach pressed against her lower back. He dipped his head down and whispered in a gravelly voice, “Good girl.”

Heisenberg pulled out of her, feeling sore and aching. Juniper collapsed onto the bed, relief washing through her. He lay down beside her, the only sound the mixture of their labored breathing. Both were totally spent, mentally and physically.

“Warn me next time you feel…whatever the fuck that was…ok doll?” Heisenberg murmured with closed eyes.

Juniper gave a little rumble.

#resident evil village #karl heisenberg #heisenberg x oc #re8 oc #heisenberg #in the steel steeds heart #resident evil #heisenberg smut

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refinedbuffoonery · 3 years

Text

Broken Like Me (1)

masterlist.

THIS FIC IS NOT INTENDED FOR READERS UNDER THE AGE OF 18. Please see the masterlist for content warnings.

Here it is, the long-awaited dark!MacRiley AU! First, I want to thank my lovely beta readers and my life-saving brainstorming/workshop buddy. You all know who you are. ❤

This fic adheres to canon through 5x05 and then goes off the fucking rails. Backstory and other important tidbits of information revealed in the latter half of season 5 may be used, but timeline-wise anything after 5x05 does not exist in this fic. Also, Jack is dead and is staying dead, so don’t get your hopes up for a happy ending.

I will do my best to update this regularly, but hanging out in and writing such dark headspaces is HARD. I will definitely be taking breaks to write fluffier fic, because a big chunk of this story is all hurt and no comfort.

Without further adieu, let’s get this party started. (It’s not a party. In fact, it’s like...the opposite of a party.)

*****

They say he was a good man.

A good soldier.

A good father.

A good friend.

They say they are sorry for her loss, sorry he was taken from this world too soon.

They say Jack would be proud of the legacy he left behind, would be proud to have gone out in a blaze of glory.

Riley is sick of it.

It’s like she’s a teenager, and Jack is leaving her all over again. Only this time it’s worse. This time there’s no coming back.

The guests at the wake gaze at the folded up American flag on the fireplace mantle with deep respect, but Riley only feels anger every time she glimpses the piece of fabric the government sent back in his place. A flag and a life insurance claim feel like a mockery of the kind of man Jack Dalton was.

Was. Past tense.

This isn’t how it’s supposed to be.

*****

Mac has never been afraid of Riley before.

He’s seen her angry and upset, but the rage-filled woman he stopped from killing Anya Vitez with her bare hands back in Croatia is someone he does not know.

The frightening part is that Riley isn’t a hot-headed person. In work mode, she is cold and calculating, so for her to go after Vitez like that...something inside her snapped.

Three weeks have passed since then, and every time he looks at Riley, Mac remembers holding her back, fingers digging sharply into her waist until she stopped fighting him. He sees the fury radiating off Riley’s body like heat waves off asphalt—sees the way she clings to it, finds purpose in it, letting it consume her so there’s no room for guilt or grief. Mac knows the feeling all too well. And he also knows there will be a very loud thud when she finally comes crashing back down.

But he also knows that the woman is like a loaded gun, safety off and desperate to fire at something.

Which is why he worries when Matty calls them in for an op and Riley isn’t there. She’s at Vitez’s trial, Matty informs them, but that doesn’t make Mac feel any better. Whenever there’s downtime during the mission, and Mac’s mind is free to wander, he can't stop thinking about her. This new Riley is becoming obsessively vengeful, and if someone doesn’t reel her back in soon, she might do something she can’t come back from.

The thought plagues Mac every second there aren’t bullets whizzing toward his head.

After the op, Mac drives to Riley’s apartment. Upon arrival, his ears are assaulted by Riley’s upstairs neighbor blasting Macklemore’s greatest hits. Mac hears the lyrics clear as day, even though both his truck windows and the apartment windows are closed.

Riley really shouldn’t have moved out of Mac’s house, not if this is her best option. He still doesn’t understand why she did.

It doesn’t take long to notice the GTO is missing. Riley should be back from the trial by now, but Mac has a sneaking suspicion where she is.

The drive to Jack’s apartment seems to take forever. The brick building is in an older neighborhood, one of few affordable ones with trees planted along the sidewalks—a luxury in LA. Sure enough, the GTO is parked on the curb, not far from the fire escape that connects to Jack’s living room.

Looking up, Mac spies a familiar body perched on the stairs.

Riley sits on the fire escape, soaking in the last rays of sunlight. Her eyes are closed, head resting against the brick wall. Mac doesn’t say anything as he sits beside her on the narrow metal stairs, their hips and thighs just touching.

He doesn’t know what to do with his hands. Should he hug her? Hold her hand? Leave her alone? Riley isn’t a super touchy person. Mac decides on the latter, picking at his fingernails while his gaze drifts west to study the sunset.

Several minutes pass before Riley says, “Hey.” Her voice is low and scratchy, like she’s been crying.

“Hey,” Mac repeats. “How long have you been here?”

Riley shifts beside him, sitting up. “I don’t know. A while.”

“This isn’t the first time you’ve come here, is it?”

A sigh. “No, it’s not.” Mac figures as much. Aside from the constant clamor of the city, Jack’s apartment is relatively quiet. It’s not in the greatest neighborhood, but it’s safe enough for Riley to sit alone and think. Or not think. Whatever she feels like doing.

Riley rests her head on Mac’s shoulder, and a wave of protectiveness floods his system. It’s new, this need to watch her back more than the others’. It came on so gradually that Mac doesn’t know when it started or what triggered it, only that he feels it all the time now. Especially after Jack’s…

He avoids examining the feeling too closely.

Without warning, Riley says, “If you hadn’t held me back, I would’ve killed her.”

Knowing exactly who she was talking about, Mac glances down at Riley in surprise. He knows it’s true—thinks so himself—but hearing it come out of her mouth makes his stomach turn. The last, and only, time Riley killed someone...it took her months to piece herself back together afterward. And that death was in self-defense.

This one would’ve been murder. Intentional and vindictive.

Mac isn’t sure Riley could come back from that, at least not as herself. The woman who would emerge from that would be a total stranger inside his best friend’s body. Mac suppresses a shiver. “I know,” he says.

“Thank you for stopping me.” Riley’s voice is quiet. So, so quiet.

“You would’ve done the same for me.” Gingerly, Mac wraps his arm around Riley’s shoulders, ready to let go at the first sign of her discomfort. When she doesn’t react, he relaxes and holds her more surely.

The sky is painted in vibrant oranges and reds, fading into deep blue overhead. Subtle strokes of pink outline the scattered clouds hanging above the horizon. Out of all the sunsets Mac has seen, all over the world, nothing quite compares to the ones here at home. He wishes Jack was here to see it.

Mac spends far too long debating whether to bring it up before asking, “Why did you go to the trial?” Agents, especially secret ones, don’t go to trials, mostly to keep their identities safe. Publicly tying oneself to a case is never a good idea, for more reasons that Mac can begin to name.

“I swore I’d be there every step of the way. I meant it.” Mac tries not to bristle at the snarling, defensive edge to Riley’s tone. “Eventually, she’ll make a mistake, and I will be there when she does. And then I’m going to rip out her entire organization from the roots up.”

Fear wraps its ugly hand around Mac’s heart. Until every single person associated with Tiberius Kovac is behind bars, there will be a target on Riley’s back, and Riley will have put it there herself. Losing one person to Kovac is more than enough; Mac refuses to lose Riley too.

“How can I help you?”

Riley looks up, eyes wide like she’s expecting him to try to talk her out of it, not offer to help. “You don’t have to do that.”

“And miss out on all the fun?” Mac almost smiles as he quotes her. Almost.

She sits up. “Honestly, I don’t know. I’m going to hack Interpol first, to see which of her colleagues might also be dirty. So unless you secretly picked up hacking…”

Mac huffs. “Sorry, I only hack hardware.” He expects some insane, crackhead plan, not something so…reasonable. Maybe Riley isn’t as off-the-rails as he thought.

But only maybe.

A seagull perches on the railing below them, honking and squawking for seemingly no reason at all. Gulls are just like that. It glares at Mac, pinning him to his spot with a beady yellow eye, challenging Mac to shoo it away.

Go find some tourists to harass, Mac wants to snark at it. Leave us alone.

The seagull cocks its head, as if to say, I know something you don’t.

Mac narrows his eyes. I bet you do.

He swears the seagull shrugs before taking off, flying low over the GTO before sailing over rooftops on its way back to the ocean. It passes a billboard advertising a new blockbuster spy thriller, the product of millions of dollars and Hollywood plot recycling. Mac saw the trailer. The movie is about a soldier who joined the CIA in a quest for retribution after his best friend came home in a box. Usually Mac likes watching spy movies—mostly to make fun of them—but this one hits a little too close to home.

It takes a monumental effort to tear his gaze away.

When his eyes finally meet Riley’s, Mac understands the silent ache in them—the ache that’s surely reflected in his own eyes. He and Riley are drowning, but at least they’re drowning together.

Mac frowns. That must be the dimmest “on the bright side” thought he’s ever had.

Riley doesn’t say anything more, so neither does Mac. They sit on the fire escape until long after the sun sets and the temperature drops, and the city's nightlife stretches its limbs as it wakes. Mac shivers, but Riley seems oddly unaffected by the cold. That or she’s too numb to notice.

He threads his still semi-warm fingers through her icy ones, letting their joined hands rest on his knee. It seems like his last tether to the Riley he knows and loves, one who’s slowly slipping away from him and being replaced by a woman who might very well bring the world to its knees as payback for all that it’s done to her.

Mac has no interest in ever meeting that woman. Mostly because he refuses to lose his Riley, but also because Mac knows he won’t be able to resist that other Riley. She will slash his restraint beyond repair, and Mac will follow her to the ends of the earth.

He will find a way to keep them both afloat. He has to.

Or else the Phoenix may very well be hunting him and Riley again, and this time, they’ll deserve it.

*****

Entering her apartment later that night, Riley realizes too late that it isn’t empty. Bozer is still there, and he’s making dinner. Locking the door behind her, she hears a rushed, “Got to go, Matty. She’s home.”

Bozer crashed on her couch the night they got the news and never left. I don't want you to be alone, Bozer keeps saying, despite her insistence she doesn’t need a babysitter. Other than that, they don’t speak to each other much. In fact, Riley wouldn't have noticed he said anything at all if not for the way he stares at her, standing at the stove and twirling a wooden spoon between his fingers.

"What?" she snaps.

Carefully, Bozer asks, "How was the trial?"

"Fine." Riley knows he cares, and that he’s hurting too, but nothing he says or does is going to help her. The sooner he figures that out the better. She drops her keys and jacket on a chair before heading for her bedroom.

“You hungry?” he calls after her.

Riley yanks off her boots, chucking them into the closet with too much force. “No.”

“Have you eaten anything today?”

Her fuse is running short these days, and she’s just about had it with his incessant smothering and questioning. Riley marches into the kitchen, rolling her shoulders back and bracing her hands on the counter. “Last I checked, I still have a mother, so if you’re just going to keep nagging me, then I think it’s time you get the fuck out of my apartment.”

Bozer’s eyes widen and his mouth opens, but no sound comes out.

“Get out,” Riley snarls.

Still struggling to regain his ability to speak, Bozer stammers, “At least let me finish making you dinner first.”

“Fine.” Cracking her knuckles, Riley retreats to her bedroom once more. “I’m taking a shower. You better be gone when I come out.” She doesn’t wait for a response.

When Riley emerges, her dinner is cold, and Bozer is long gone.

She doesn’t eat.

*****

On the second day of Vitez’s trial, Riley sits in the back of the room long after the trial adjourns for the day, thinking. She didn’t recognize the witnesses who testified today, and as the prosecutor called each one forward, Riley wished she had her laptop so she could look them up. Now, as she stares over the rows of empty wooden seats to the section where the jury sat, Riley can only hope that the witnesses’ testimonies are enough.

Riley knows there’s more than enough evidence to convict Vitez—especially since she recorded the confession herself—but obsessing over the trial is easier than facing the reality waiting outside the courthouse doors.

Her mom invited her to visit his grave today, after the trial, but Riley declined. Facing that slab of granite will make it real, make it…permanent.

She knows what it says. Jack Dalton. Beloved. Gone too soon. Someone asked for her approval before it was made. It doesn’t say nearly enough to encapsulate all that he was, but at the time Riley couldn’t think about it—couldn’t look at it—long enough to suggest any changes. She still can’t.

Chewing her lip, Riley anxiously toys with her rings, spinning them and moving them from finger to finger.

At the wake, one of his old Delta buddies joked that the gravestone should read “Yippee-ki-yay, motherfuckers,” but Riley didn’t laugh.

Riley hasn’t laughed since Matty broke the news. It’s like the part of her that knows how to feel joy died in that explosion too.

Instead, she wants to scream at the universe until her voice gives out, cursing it for taking her dad away too soon. Because that’s what he is. Her dad. Riley doesn’t even know when she started calling him that again, but if she has to guess, it was sometime between the first “I’m proud of you, honey” and him kicking her ass at skee-ball for the millionth time.

Tears leak from Riley’s eyes without her consent.

It feels like she failed him, in a way. By not being there. By not keeping him alive.

Now the best she can do is make sure his death means something.

Vitez will go to prison for the rest of her life, that Riley is sure of. But the rest of her organization is still out there, and Riley intends on putting every single member behind bars. No amount of justice will even begin to heal the Jack-shaped wound in her heart, but at least the world will be better for it. Safer.

But she’d rather live in a more dangerous world with him still in it than a safer one without. That way they could save the world together, like they always did.

This isn’t how it’s supposed to be.

Anger rumbles through her body, like a Texas thunderstorm in her veins. It’s the only emotion Riley feels anymore, ever since the sadness gave way to numbness.

A woman in a security uniform pokes her head in the room. “Excuse me, ma’am. I need to lock up for the night.” When Riley doesn’t respond, the woman adds, “Are you okay?”

Are you okay? Riley hates that question more than all the others. How are you? Have you eaten today? What can I do to help?

She feels like she’s dying. She can’t eat. Nothing will help.

But that isn’t what people want to hear. Even Mac asked that last question, yesterday on the fire escape, although Riley didn’t automatically despise the question like she usually did. It’s different coming from him than anyone else; his offer was genuine, not coming from pity or obligation.

She isn’t surprised Mac recognized her need to do something. After all, he had been the same way after his dad was killed.

Coldly, Riley finally says,“I will be.” The woman doesn’t deserve her abrupt answer, but Riley can’t quite bring herself to care. She lets the anger the questions bring up fuel her, lets it hold her together.

The anger is all she has left.

Riley stands, her heels clicking on the floor as she exits the courthouse.

She’s coming for all the monsters who hurt him. She’s coming for the ones who rendered him nothing more than ashes on the wind, the ones who turned her life into a nightmare she can’t wake up from.

Because she doesn’t need to wake up to become theirs.

Want to be tagged in future chapters? Send me an ask.

#beth writes #dark!MacRiley #macriley #macgyver #angus macgyver #riley davis #mac x riley #macgyver fanfiction

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slasherhaven · 4 years

Note

Hi!! Could you please write an Otis x reader one shot where the reader is into him and doesn’t think he knows but he totally knows and he’s kind of thrown off because most girls find him disgusting and just idk I’m really in the mood for some good Otis content 💕💕💕

Of course!

Why Does he Hate me? (Otis Oneshot)

Word Count: 2425

You had been a friend of the Firefly family for quite some time now, knowing all the dirty little details of their lifestyle but you still hung around. Baby had become your best friend quickly, Mama treated you like one of her own whenever you came round to the house, but it was Otis that captivated most of your attention.

Something about him just pulled you in.. You couldn’t even explain it but it was killing you because he seemed completely oblivious and you wouldn’t dare approach the subject with him when you were so sure he wasn’t interested.

"I'm out" Baby pouted as she tipped her beer can back, quickly realising it was empty. "Mind grabbing me another one?" she asked you, batting her lashes as if that would convince you.

"Aren't I supposed to be your guest? Shouldn't you be getting us the drinks?" you raised an eyebrow at her.

"Oh please you pretty much live here. I think Mama might even like you more, she won't yell at ya for drinking the beers" Baby scoffed, waving you off dismissively.

"Fine" you chuckled as you rose from the couch, stretching your back before placing your own empty beer can down on the coffee table. "Could you possibly throw these in the trash?" you asked.

"Sure" Baby nodded, her attention focused on the old horror movie playing on the Tv. You laughed again and shook your head before leaving for the kitchen.

Stepping into the kitchen, you teased for a moment when you saw Otis at the fridge. The effect he had on you was ridiculous but you tried to push it down every time you saw him, reminding yourself that he was not interested in you.

"Hey Otis, you mind passing me a couple beers?" you asked as you walked up behind him.

Apparently he hadn't heard you enter the kitchen because you caught the small flinch before he turned to you. "You got hands, get them yourself" he snapped, making your eyes widen. He must have been in a bad mood...

"I would but...you're kinda in the way" you pointed out, gesturing to the fact that he was standing right in front of the refrigerator.

Otis huffed, glancing back at the fridge before turning back to it properly. He grabbed himself a can of beer before slamming the door shut. "You're just always here aren't ya?" Otis turned back to you with a glare.

"Uh..." you didn't know what to say, didn't know how to respond.

Sure, Otis could be really unapproachable and definitely knew how to make you nervous. You were used to his short temper and bad days but that didn't make it hurt any less when it was directed at you.

"Sorry" you whispered as you shuffled around his figure, pulling the fridge door open.

You only heard him mutter something under his breath before leaving. You sighed to yourself as you grabbed the two beers, closing the fridge door before returning to the living room.

With a huff you flopped down onto the couch beside Baby, handing her one of the cans and noticing that the two empty cans were still sitting on the coffee table.

"What's wrong with you? You only went to the kitchen?" Baby asked as she took the drink, laughing softly but you knew that she was genuinely concerned. She could sometimes come across as a little insincere but you knew her well enough to know how she really felt.

"I think your brother hates me" you mumbled as you popped your can open, bringing it to your lips for a quick gulp.

"Why ya think that?" she opened her own can, sparing you a small glance.

"He's just always glaring at me or snapping at me. He just did it in the kitchen because he was in the fridge and I asked him to pass me some beers. Seriously, what's his problem?" frustration was clear in your voice at this point, "I ain't done nothing to him!"

"He don't hate ya" Baby shook her head as she drank from her can.

"Yeah well tell him that" you rolled your eyes, unconvinced.

"He's an idiot, don't let it bother ya" Baby knew that you had feelings for Otis, she could see it on your face whenever he was in the room.

She also knew that your feelings weren't unreciprocated. Her brother was stubborn and hard headed but she was one of the people who knew him better than anyone, and she knew that he liked you more than he let on. If he really didn't like you, you wouldn't be welcome in the house, he wouldn't let you go out with him and Baby, you wouldn't just be frustrated by his difficult personality.

-----

The next time you visited the Firefly residence was only the next day and, as usual, you were visiting Baby but when you knocked on the door Otis answered it instead.

"Oh, hi. Is Baby here?" you asked, quickly collecting yourself to not make a fool out of yourself in front of this man.

"Nah, thought she would've told ya that" he shrugged, sounding completely disinterested in the conversation.

"Did she say when she would be back? Y'know what, never mind, I'll just come by later" you shook your head, turning to walk away.

"Shit, hold on" Otis huffed as he caught your arm in his hand, making you turn back to him. "C'mon, you can wait inside" he offered, releasing your arm and stepped to the side to let you through the doorway.

"Thanks" you smiled politely as you walked into the house, realising just how quiet it was as Otis shut the door. "Is anyone home?" you glanced back at him over your shoulder.

"Everyone's out" he told you simply. You nodded, nervously picking at your fingernails at the thought of being home alone with Otis. "You're going to make yourself bleed" he chastised, staring at your hands. You instantly stopped picking at your nails and folded your arms to resist the urge to keep doing so. "See ya later then" Otis nodded before beginning to walk past you, apparently just planning to leave you alone in the house.

"Otis" you spoke before you could stop yourself, making the man turn back to you. "...why don't you like me? I mean obviously you don't have to like me, I just...have I done something to you?" you asked, glancing around the room to avoid looking at his face.

"I don't...not like you" was all Otis said but that just confused you even more, making your gaze snap to his face.

"Then why do you always seem mad when I'm around?" you asked.

"Why are you always around?" he responded with another question rather than giving you any clear answer.

"I...I don't understand..." you shook your head.

"You're just always...here. Always around with your damn smiles and stares" he began to walk towards you with a slight glare, sounding like he was annoyed at you.

"Otis...I'm sorry if I-" you began to apologise as you stepped backwards and away from him.

"Baby said I should apologise" Otis cut you off as your back hit the wall behind you but he still stepped closer to you.

"What for?" you asked, watching him carefully.

"For upsetting you. I told her to fuck off because I didn't upset you" Otis scoffed, making you chuckle a little as you imagined the argument that must have broke out between them. "But I did upset ya, didn't I?" he asked, earning a slightly confused look from you. "Yesterday when I snapped at ya, I upset ya" he reminded you.

"I...just want to know why you always seem so annoyed when I'm around" you sighed, remembered how he had snapped at you. You weren't mad about it but you did want to know what his problem with you was.

"'cause you frustrate me" Otis told you but that just made you look away from him, you still didn't know what you had done to him to frustrate him. "I just don't get it" he moved closer to you, now being far too close to be considered a friendly distance.

"Get what?" you asked quietly.

"Why you're at all interested in me. You should want to put as much distance between me and yourself as possible but you don't" he squinted at you.

"I'm not scared of you, Otis" you told him honestly, your voice soft as you met his gaze. Even if he should, he really didn't scare you.

"Shit, I can see that" he scoffed.

"And...that frustrates you?" you asked, trying to understand but only feeling more confused.

"It confuses me!" his voice raised, making you flinch a little but only from surprise not fear. "Ya ain't scared of me, ya ain't disgusted by me, ya just ain't like anyone else" he seemed to move closer to you but you could have been imaging it.

"I've known the family for a while now...kinda takes a lot to freak me out these days" you shrugged.

"Obviously so. Instead of being disgusted by me, ya have damn feelings for me" Otis muttered, making your eyes widen in shock.

"What? Did Baby tell you that?" you were going to kill her!

"She didn't need too. I ain't stupid and I ain't blind, I see how ya look at me, always smiling at me no matter how much I push ya away" he shook his head, seemingly unfazed by your reaction.

"I'm sorry" you hung your head, embarrassed that he had been aware of your feelings this whole time. For some reason you just felt like you had to apologise for that, maybe that was why he was so bothered by you all the time.

"You ain't gotta apologise, I've already said that I'm the one apologising for upsettin' ya" Otis sighed.

"It's fine" you assured him quietly.

"It ain't but I'm good at fuckin' up. Would like to make it up to ya though" he admitted sincerely.

"You don't have too. It's fine, really" you repeated.

"I want too" Otis insisted, his finger hooking under your chin before lifting your head and making you look at him.

"Otis?" you whispered, caught off guard by the gentle action and trying to supress your blush.

"Y'know...not many women would look twice at a man like me. And any that do realise their mistake once I open my damned mouth. You ain't like them though, are you?" you weren't sure if you were supposed to answer so you just shook your head, hoping that was the right thing to do. "Y'see, that's why I like you" he hummed.

"You do?" you asked as you found your voice again, looking up at him curiously.

"Always have. But havin' those sorts of feelings was overwhelming enough, and then you had to go and throw me off by returning them. Not many people surprise me but you did, you always do" his fingertips trailed up the side of your jaw, making sure you kept looking at him.

You had seen this side of Otis before. The soft side, the more normal side, the human part of him. And that had played a large part in your feelings for him, knowing that there was so much more to him, and all of him you loved, even the sinister parts.

"Well...I do like you, Otis. I like you a lot, I just thought you'd never feel the same" you confessed as you timidly rested your hands against his chest.

"Now, how couldn't I feel the same about someone like you" he smirked slight as he fully cupped your jaw in his hand.

"I'm not too boring for your tastes?" you asked a little playfully, making Otis chuckled slightly.

"You know exactly what is hiding in the basement and you're still here, you are far from boring, darlin'" he assured you, making you smile.

You watched him carefully, gaze scanning his face, as you waited for him to make a move. He had you between a wall and his body, his hand was still against your jaw, and he didn't look like he planned on moving anytime soon so surely he was going to kiss you.

You finally had him so close at last, knowing that he felt the same about you, and you needed him to kiss you but...he just wasn't moving.

So, taking matters into your own hands, you slipped your hands up to the back of Otis' neck and pulled him down until his lips met yours.

Once again, Otis was taken back by you. By how much you genuinely wanted him, cared for him, and felt for him.

But he quickly took control of the kiss, the hand on your jaw moving to the back of your head to hold you in position. His other hand found your hip as he pressed you up against the wall, hand sliding up your waist as he slotted a leg between yours.

Your fingers tangled in his long hair as he pressed himself closer to you, feeling you arch into him as he wrapped his arm around your waist, his hand landing on the small of your back to hold you even closer.

"Otis!" Mama's voice rang through the house, neither of you had heard the back door open and close. You braced your hands against Otis' shoulders as you pulled away from the kiss, both of you turning see the woman stepping into the room. "Oh...well, don't you two mind me. I'll be in the kitchen if you need me, alright?" she smiled kindly, looking between you both, making you blush before slipping right back out of the room.

"C'mon" Otis snatched your hand in his before tugging you towards the stairs.

"Shouldn't Baby be home soon?" you asked, glancing back at the front door but didn't fight him in the slightest.

"Who cares?" Otis asked, muttering slightly, probably already annoyed by the possibly of somebody else coming in and disturbing you both. You just shrugged and smiled, letting the man guide you up the stairs as if you hadn't been in the house so often.

"Glad you two finally got together!" Mama called from the kitchen when she heard footsteps heading up the stairs.

"Fuckin' hell" Otis rolled his eyes, making you laugh. You liked these moments in the Firefly residence, the moments were they really did just seem like a somewhat normal family. And you were happy to be a part of that family.

#otis driftwood x reader #otis driftwood #slashers x reader #slashers #slasher #my writing

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cowboy-anon · 3 years

Text

Whumpmas in July - Day 15

Prompt - “Stop”

Yes, this is ages late lol but BEHOLD. THE FIRST INSTALLMENT OF “Bust Your Kneecaps” WHUMP. I think this story is more so going to be an excuse to write my favorite whump tropes than anything, but honestly I’m cool with that. XDD The Wilsons do go through a lot of whumpees after all, so. It works. :)

Anyway, welcome to my first crack at mouth whump, This piece doesn’t have too much of that in it, not like the second piece will, but it’s definitely whumpy. :) These two pieces can definitely read as a standalone, because Austin, our recently kidnapped whumpee, is just one of the dozens of victims the Wilsons have accumulated so. Yeah.

I don’t think this piece is as bad as the huge CW makes it seem, BUT please note this is one of the darker pieces I’ve written. Please proceed with caution.

CW: Amputation mention, begging, beginnings of mouth whump, blood, brief nausea (no actual emeto), broken bones, crying, cursing, death mention (no one actually dies), drool, gag, gangrene caused by infection (mentioned smell of rot), gore (?), food mention, hand whump (mentioned pulling fingernails, smashed, stabbed with fork), implied kidnapping, knife, mentioned unconsciousness, mutilation (hand), !!non-con kiss with a minor (minor is 17 and is the one doing the kissing)!!, non-con touching (non-sexual), referenced past torture, sadistic whumpers, tied with rope, torture

Tagging: @whump-it, @abitefullofwhump (Let me know if you’d like to be added or removed from the taglist!)

Austin’s First Tooth - Part 1

Austin has been stuck sitting in his own blood and filth for three days. He knows this because he’s watched those days go by through the drawn living room curtains in the form of golden sunlight and milky moonlight. It’s been wildly helpful in determining how long he’d been passed out from the pain.

Of course, the cheery “Good morning!” the Wilsons always start their days with is a pretty solid indicator.

His wrist gives an involuntary twitch against the rope binding his wrists, and Austin lets out a muffled wail—way too loud for the early dawn sunlight filtering into the room. His hand, his completely smashed, mutilated hand. He can’t see it, but he remembers it.

He gags at the memory, tastes burning bile on the back of his throat. Behind his eyes he sees his hand last night on the kitchen table, oozing blood and what can only be described as looking of macerated strawberries. They started in on his nails after that.

All for refusing a second helping of Valerie Wilson’s casserole.

Austin turns his head against the memories, like looking away will help, when he’s met with something far worse. A smell. A horrible one, like something well and truly died beside him.

Truthfully, he wouldn’t be surprised if something did, but the smell of rot is so pungent he can taste it. He wishes the horrible whirl of rose pink stepping down the stairs is shocking enough to take his mind off of it. Instead, Austin settles on breathing small, shallow breaths around the gag over his mouth.

“Good morning, Austin!” Valerie coos when she reaches the bottom of the stairs, sickly sweet.

Austin doesn’t look at her straight on. He keeps his eyes on the too-perfect living room in front of him, knowing full well Valerie spins around the banister and steps into the kitchen.

“Well, a bit of an earlier morning than usual.” From the corner of his eye, Austin sees Valerie dip into the cupboards beneath the countertop and come up with a bowl. In the sink behind her is a rolling pin. The rolling pin. “You did wake us up with your crying, darling.”

Before he can think, Austin spits back “If you hadn’t smashed my fucking hand...” into his gag.

He hears the barely audible venom, too muffled to make out the words, and still he whips around to face Valerie and freezes. His breath catches. Did she hear him? She couldn’t have. His eyes widen on their own accord when she turns to look at him.

But all she does is smile. “What do you think, Austin? Pancakes or French toast?”

Austin stares and slowly, oxygen snakes its way back into his lungs. “F-French toast,” he mutters weakly into his gag. Valerie points to the loaf of white bread on the counter and he nods.

Valerie’s heels click against the tile as she sweeps through the kitchen, pulling eggs from the fridge and vanilla from a cupboard, never spending a moment too long in one place. And her dress. Coming down from his fear-fueled adrenaline high, Austin finds himself entranced by the way the bottom of her pink skirts brush against her calves and spin when she turns to the stove. She's fluid right now—in her element. Beautiful really.

Then again, she held that same gorgeous air when she and Jude went to work on his hand. Like she was a blood-spattered, murderous ballerina.

There’s a heavy creak at the top of the stairs, and Austin finds himself staring at Lillian, Sunny, and Jude himself. Just like that, his stomach drops.

Lillian skips cheerfully down the steps, adjusting the sweet lavender bow in her hair when she reaches the bottom. She turns to Austin and flashes him a perfect smile. “Good morning, Austin!”

Austin doesn’t take his eyes off her until she reaches the far end of the kitchen.

Today, she’s a total sweetheart. Last night, she tortured him. “Quiet, Austin,” she’d whispered to him, and then she dug her fingers into the bloody pulp of his hand. Just to see how he bleeds, she said.

Austin had whined and tried to pull away, but she was behind him and so were his hands, and when she tugged at his ring finger, his whining turned to frantic, barely thought out pleas. “Nonono, stop, stop, stop it!” Lillian could hear him, not his words but those incoherent, desperate sounds the gag created. The way she continued, more enthusiastically shoving splintered bones apart, Austin could tell she loved to hear them.

Against his will, the pleas turned to cries. Lillian hummed to herself and dug her nails particularly deep into the skin around his thumb. Getting a grip, Austin realized helplessly.

Without warning, she wrenched his finger, and pulling his thumb farther than it was ever meant to go, he screamed. He could barely feel the rush of fresh blood down his digits over the tearing of his own flesh.

Lillian slapped a blood-slick hand over his covered mouth and his nose and hissed at him again, “Quiet, Austin.” His scream withered back into whimpers when she added, “You don’t want to wake Daddy. If he comes down here, he’ll hurt you worse.” So Austin swallowed his cries—for the most part, because when your bones and the horrible tendons attached to them move in ways they shouldn’t, can you really stay silent?

Which is why Austin is staring at her, even though he knows full well that she’s only barely worse than the others.

Sunny comes stepping down the stairs after her. Austin watches his delicate hands dance over the banister. The two meet eyes, and when Sunny reaches the ground floor, he offers Austin a polite, “Good morning, Austin.” Austin turns back to the living room and flushes pink.

Last night, Sunny kissed him.

In the dead of night, not too long after Lillian had finished with him, Sunny came creeping down the stairs, his fingers doing that same dance over the stair’s wooden guard rail. Austin watched him approach through teary eyes. His breathing was still shaky, hitching with every twitch of his fingers.

Without warning, Sunny rushed over to him, ripped his gag off his mouth, and sealed their lips in a passionate one-sided kiss.

Austin’s eyes blew wide, and he pushed back against the back of his chair, trying to get away. That is, until he felt the edge of a blade pressing into his neck.

Austin froze, and Sunny deepened the kiss. Finally, after what felt like hours, Sunny pulled away and the pressure on his throat lessened. He must’ve figured the threat was clear enough. It was.

Sunny brought the hand holding the blade around the back of Austin’s neck and pulled him close, careful not to nick him as he pressed Austin’s sweaty forehead to his.

Austin shuddered being so close to him. His stomach flipped when he realized, worse still, that Sunny simply sat back and watched as his parents tortured him, Whatever display this was, it certainly couldn’t have been real.

Of course, it certainly felt real. Austin had never seen him as anything but quiet and polite, and now, well...

“I’ll be eighteen next year,” Sunny whispered breathlessly against Austin’s ear. “Until then I’ll keep you here, with me.” He smiled a genuine smile and pressed their lips together again, in small pecks thankfully more chaste than the first.

In that moment, feeling that shift in his mood, Austin dared to whimper against their joined lips, “P-please stop.”

Sunny froze at that, and then pulled back to look at Austin’s face fully for what felt like the first time.

There was disappointment on his face, yes, but no definite signs of anger Austin realized. Still, the silence hanging in the air was thick and heavy. Austin couldn’t breathe.

“I’ll be back tomorrow to fix you up,” Sunny said abruptly. He grabbed the cloth hanging around Austin’s neck and pulled it back into his mouth. “ You’ll need me.”

Sunny started back up the steps. Austin finally breathed, and then the dread came back two fold as he pondered exactly what he meant by that.

Now, the look Sunny gives him on his way to the kitchen is back as it usually is; well-mannered, almost respectful. Not the slightest bit worried. Somehow that doesn’t do anything to ease Austin’s nerves.

Because last night, Sunny looked like none of those things, and after a visit from both him and Lillian, Austin had stared at the stairwell until he could barely keep his eyes open anymore. He needed to know who would be coming down those steps next. He needed to know why he’d ever need Sunny to fix him up and why he couldn’t just do it now. But no one came down those stairs, and he eventually fell into a light, dreamless sleep.

Now there is someone at the top of those stairs. Jude, the last Wilson, and there’s something about his manner today that says this is what Sunny was talking about. Austin watches wide-eyed as Jude steps down the stairs, so horribly slow—at least that’s how it feels to him, because while Valerie is elegant and Lillian is sadistic and Sunny is apathetically passionate, he’s come to realize that Jude is raw. He’s made that very clear.

Last night at dinner, with his legs still tied to the chair, Austin had sat at their table and eaten what he was offered. But after the casserole and the veggies and the sheer terror that stole his appetite away the moment his chair was sat down between Lillian and Jude, he wasn’t hungry when seconds started going around.

“Oh, please reconsider, Austin,” Valerie said, holding the casserole dish in the crook of her arm. She walked around Austin and served Lillian with a small smile.

“N-no, really, I’m fine.” Austin nervously fiddled with the fork by his empty plate but managed to shoot Valerie a scared polite smile.

These people were acting so casual, like having your kidnapping victim at your table was normal. News flash, it was not normal.

“Well, that’s quite alright.” Valerie served Sunny and then turned to Jude. “I suppose he just hasn’t been taught too much about etiquette, has he, Jude?”

Jude smiled up at her from his chair, stood, and gave her a soft kiss on the head. Then he’d turned to Austin and taken his glasses off, a seemingly strange thing to do in the moment. But after that, all Austin remembers is blood and pain and panic.

Somewhere along the line, his fork was wrenched from his hand, and Jude returned holding Valerie’s heavy wooden rolling pin.

“Hand flat on the table, dear.” Valerie flashed Austin a winning smile.

Austin looked between them, at Valerie’s smile and Jude’s unadorned face and finally the rolling pin he was holding like a baseball bat. Like hell was he about to do that. He decidedly shook his head and clenched his fingers tight together, clutching his hands to his chest.

Valerie’s smile never faltered as she pulled his right fist from his grasp, spread his fingers wide, and splayed them out on the table, his palm against the tablecloth. Stronger than she looked. Jude pulled his arm back.

“No, no, please, I’m sorry!” He didn’t know what he was sorry for, but he’d say anything to get these sadists away. It didn’t work.

“Don’t, don’t, DON’T—!”

Jude brought the pin down on Austin’s hand with a distinct crack! That’s all it took to get him screaming.

“STOP! NONONO—” Jude hit him again. And again. And again.

And Austin screamed again and again and again. They tore from Austin’s mouth, guttal, animalistic, growing more frantic as the blows quickened their pace. Until Austin wasn’t screaming anymore because he was passing out.

Only whatever sick sense of humor this universe has, its jokes were at his expense. As soon as he was on the edge of numb unconsciousness, he jolted back awake, and the pain in his hand shot back worse.

But he wasn’t bleeding yet, no, even though his hand was a crushed nightmare to look at. That didn’t happen until Jude brought out the fork.

Staring at Jude now, coming down those steps, Austin feels the fork pierce his hand like it’s happening right now. He feels the resistance of his skin against the prongs, then the give of flesh and finally the white hot agony of blunt metal on bone. Again. And again. And again.

Austin gasps when his bound hand twitches again, and that horrible stench of rot overtakes him again.

His hand, Austin realizes, and he chokes. That smell of decay is his hand. The horror sets in sharp and fast, and he has to fight back tears. If he ever gets out of this place—when, he reminds himself harshly, when he gets out of this—they’ll have to cut it off.

They’ll have to cut off his hand.

Jude Wilson’s bleary form reaches the bottom of the stairs, and the first place he goes is the kitchen, where all the other Wilsons are. He gives Valerie a soft kiss on the head, and then Lillian and Sunny. And then he opens a drawer.

Austin hears it, the scrape of kitchen utensils skidding on wood. Jude must find what he’s looking for because the drawer then shuts with a bang.

“Good morning, Austin,” Jude says finally.

Austin blinks back the tears, stowing away his grief for another time, because Jude’s approaching him, and there’s something in his hands.

Tongs? Austin guesses experimentally. Maybe scissors. But as the tears clear his eyes, he realizes—it’s a pair of pliers. Bloody pliers.

“W-What are you doing?” Austin doesn’t take his eyes off the tool.

“We haven’t finished your punishment for last night’s behavior, Austin.” Like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

But it’s not, and Austin’s eyes widen watching Jude come closer. What they did to his hand wasn’t enough? Now they’re going to add whatever the hell those pliers are for into the mix?

Jude crouches down beside his chair. Austin sends another glance at the tool in his hand and squirms against the ropes binding his wrists and legs. “What are you doing?” he asks warily again.

Jude ignores him and gives the pliers a click.

“Open your mouth, Austin.”

Austin isn’t sure he’s heard him right, but there’s no room for interpretation when Jude digs his fingers into Austin’s jaw and grits out, slower, “Open your mouth, Austin.”

“N-no.” Austin tries to turn his head away against Jude’s bruising grip and presses his lips together.

Jude doesn’t sigh or let out any other sounds of frustration. His fingers just dig deeper into his face and hold him steady, and the other ones, the ones holding the pliers, wriggle between his lips and pry his mouth open.

“Be good and this’ll go fast, Austin. We’ll only take a few.”

A few?! A few teeth? Austin’s eyes sting with fresh tears.

Jude presses the tool into Austin’s mouth. “Stawh,” Austin pleads, trembling. He tries to shake the intrusion from his mouth but Jude holds him fast. His tongue hits the pliers in his mouth and he tastes cold salty metal. “‘Lease. ‘Lease stawh.”

Jude ignores him and the way his drool and tears leak onto his hand. Austin feels Jude’s hand push further into the side of his mouth, and the pliers knock between his molars with a small click.

There’s no way to close his mouth now, not with that tool between his teeth. Satisfied, Jude turns to Valerie in the kitchen with a smile, then to Sunny and Lillian. “Come on now, don’t be shy. Valerie, are you alright to push breakfast back a bit?”

“Of course, darling.” Valerie herds Sunny and Lillian into the living room, and they gather around the bound captive in their living room.

Austin eyes them all with squirrel-like skittishness.

Jude pushes his glasses up on his nose and turns to Austin. He looks excited.

He turns back to his family, his hand still hanging from Austin’s mouth.

“What do you guys think? Should we start with a molar?”

To be continued...

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writingindulgence · 3 years

Text

Painting Nails with Gojo Satoru (x reader)

Pairings: Gojo Satoru x (unspecified-gender) reader

Genre: Good friends with some mutual pining, a bit of fluff and a bit of uncertainty, reader has their mind in the gutter for a split second

Lmao, how long can someone write about painting nails T.T 2800+ words

When you recently mentioned that you had no free time to refresh your nails due to the influx of odd jobs here and there, you didn’t think that it would lead to your long time friend, Gojo Satoru, sneaking into your room at the Tech with a bag full of nail polish.

He was in the middle of laying them out haphazardly onto the coffee table. Colours ranging from neon bright to the darkest of shades stood before your very own eyes on full display. Their shapes were as varied as the palette. Standard round, rectangle shapes, funky stars and fragile butterflies just to name a few.

The shock of what was transpiring had yet to register in your mind, a dumbfounded look creeping onto your face.

It wasn’t even the first time that this has occurred. Once in a while you would come back from a mission in another city, ready to fall down onto your bed in the one place that you could call home, only to have this excuse for a friend barge in on your time of relaxation. Sometimes, you didn’t inform anyone when you would be back in the hopes of being left alone but he always seemed to find out the best time to annoy you. When you were tired.

“What the actual fuck are you doing in my room Gojo-san?”, you drop your tattered bag onto the ground before closing the door.

The feeling of his incoming whines and guaranteed pout had become something of a sixth sense to you now. You thought that maybe he would grow out of it after his teenage years but the gods weren’t as merciful as you once believed them to be.

“(Y/n)-channnn, why are you so mean to me? I haven’t done anything for you to call me that”, he dramatically groaned out before flopping onto your bed.

Glancing at the table, you notice that his sudden movement knocked over some of the bottles.

You also know what he meant by that. You only ever call him ‘Gojo-san’ when he screws up or when you are both in the presence of his students.

As much as he likes to tease you in front of important people, you aren’t that unprofessional as to disrespect him as an educator in front of the students that he teaches. The kids already make fun of him and if you were to join in at the same time then you would begin pitying the man.

You walk over to the sprawled lamp post of a human and indicate with your hand to scoot over before proceeding to throw yourself down beside him.

“What is this about, Toru-kun?”, your eyes lazily scan over the nail polish. Of course you know what is going on but Gojo Satoru is a man that enjoys being humoured.

Poor Ijichi-kun ends up as the victim of a lot of his whims when you’re away. Scratch that, even when you are around the unfortunate fellow gets bullied like a kindergartner at a playground.

“So~ I’ve noticed that your nails-,”

“I mentioned it.”

“.. have been looking rather-,”

“I mentioned it.”

“..duller than usual so-”,

“I-”,

His body flew up from the lying position and a hand suddenly came into your view. Before you could do anything, Gojo clamped it over your mouth, an unseen eye-roll definitely going off under his blindfold.

He wasn’t really irritated but you took it as a win for all the times he irked you in the past month.

“I NOTICED YOUR NAILS LOOKING DULLER THAN USUAL SO I WENT OUT OF MY HUMBLE WAY TO BUY THESE,” he finally lets you go after finishing what he wanted to say.

The sheets under you have become disheveled, your thrashing around to get away and shut his loud mouth in case Principal Yaga hears brought about no results. There was no rule against being in the same room, you weren’t some silly teenagers and even if you were, the Tech wasn’t that strict anyway, but the thought of his disappointing gaze burning into your soul…

Your thoughts are disrupted when Gojo throws two pillows onto the floor. Knowing that there is no escaping this, you dust down your clothes and gracefully sit down.

Who knows? This may actually turn out to be relaxing. Even if you’re wrong then spending time with friends is precious, no matter the activity. Especially in this line of work. There is no telling when one might hear the news of their comrades’ death.

Gojo sits on the other free pillow and smiles. “Any colour pulling you in? If not then I would love to recommend, you know, I’m sort of an expert at this.”

You laugh slightly at his confidence before agreeing to his proposal. As long as it’s not too ugly then you really don’t mind what he ends up picking.

In fact, you trust his judgement when it comes to fashion. His casual outfits always end up taking your breath away. You’re forever glad when he forces you to go along with him to the shopping district. You know your style and what you’re comfortable with but Gojo presents you with something unique every time.

“Hmmmm...then, what about this one?”, the hand that was under his chin as he was contemplating leaves its position and he quickly picks up a (f/c) nail polish.

The container is cute too, a glass cat face. Though how did he figure out what colour this was with that blindfold? Only Gojo knows.

You reach out for the item but he leans back and pulls it to his chest. Your eyebrows scrunch in confusion.

“(Y/n), (Y/n), (Y/n)...,” he creates an X with his arms before continuing, “Bzzzt! Did you really think I would be so rude as to leave you alone with that tedious job? Who do you take me for?”.

He grasps the fabric where his heart is located and fakely sniffles. Oh, so he wants to paint them for you. Figuring out that you may as well indulge in a little care, you extend your hand for him to hold.

Gojo twists the nail brush open and dips it into the bottle a few times. His tongue is poking out as he tests how much of the liquid is on the brush. You don’t even question how he will paint your nails without seeing properly. Understanding his infinite capabilities has become second nature to you.

Instead, you focus on the feeling of his hand when it grasps yours.

It’s bigger and somewhat rougher, though not uncomfortable. Really, it feels secure to have around your own.

Jerking back at your line of thinking, you can feel the heat growing on your face by the second. Calm down there, no need to get ahead of yourself. You’ve held hands many times in the city before so that you don’t get ‘lost’, how is this any different?

“Hey now!,” Gojo grips your hand more firmly than before.

“Sorry, sorry. I had an itch,” you come up with an excuse and double down when you scratch your shoulder with a free hand.

He doesn’t say anything in return, there are none of his usual comebacks. That’s suspicious, he always needs to have the last word in no matter what.

Instead he applies the first stroke of nail polish on one of your nails.

His movements are steady, no shaking, and he doesn’t miss any spots. The process is...pleasant, being attended to by another.

He moves on to your second finger, repeating the action from the previous one, applying just as much attention.

Now that you are sitting still, barely breathing as you look on, his hold has become almost airy. Unless you focused purely on the skin to skin contact, it was as if your hand was levitating.

Ah, technically he could be using ‘Infinity’ and keeping your hand away but...it made you feel weirdly unhappy. Your mouth tugged down in dissatisfaction unconsciously.

At the same moment, Gojo grasped the next finger on the list, the sudden feeling coming as a surprise. You barely held in the shocked gasp, tingles travelling up your arm.

He didn’t say anything and continued the procedure.

You peeked at his face to see if you could read him but there was nothing at all to go off on. No smile, smirk, pout or frown.

Sheer concentration.

It wasn’t unwelcome, in fact it was peaceful without the usual banter. And it wasn’t unbearably serious either. If you had to put a word on it then it felt...intimate.‘Wow, what the hell? Chill, he’s only a friend and this is simple nail painting’.

The clock in your room ticked continuously until eventually your fingernails were all finished. It took extra long because Gojo insisted that the proper way to do it was to paint two layers. So in the end you had to sit through another few minutes that honestly felt like an eternity.

You hoped that you hadn't sweated with how warm it had gotten on your end.

“Alright! It’s your turn (Y/n)-chan,” he made finger guns and pointed them at your bewildered expression.

“It isn’t fair if only you get this spa worthy treatment, no?”.

“Satoru, I think you overestimate my ability to paint nails. Of course, I do a fantastic job on myself but I am hopeless when it comes to others,” you explain.

You may have over exaggerated a bit but if this goes on then your thoughts will enter dangerous territory, not that they haven’t already.

Distractions aren’t helpful when you are a jujutsu sorcerer, particularly in the romantic scene.

Have you daydreamed about such scenarios? Yes.

Would you like to experience them? Definitely.

However, what you want and what you can have are at odds with each other.

“Don’t be a bore, come on, come on,” he sticks out his own hand before thinking up something and reaching towards his blindfold. “Let’s make it a challenge. I had such a difficult time so you have to suffer too”.

He frees his eyesight and stands up. You’re about to follow but he shakes his head and kneels behind you.

The smooth fabric covers your eyes and the pressure as he tightens the blindfold rubs against the back of your head. This feels like the beginning of a dirty situation-

A resounding smack travels in the enclosed room as you slap your cheeks simultaneously. This isn’t the time nor place.

“I’m accepting my resolve,” you throw out before Gojo can ask you why you hit yourself in the face.

You hear him shuffle back to the pillow as well as glass tapping against glass. A nail polish bottle is shoved into your unprepared self. “I’m in your hands now,” he laughs stupidly to himself at his own pun. You can’t help cracking a small smile too.

Blindly, you fiddle around in front of you, wanting to start this. Clicking your tongue, you’re about to give out but Gojo finally decides to stop being a prick and gives you his hand. His shakes from laughter make themselves known but you ignore him.

Unscrewing the bottle cap, you get to work.

Only, you have to feel around for his fingernail. It’s impossible to hit the target without searching around first.

You become overwhelmingly aware of the close proximity yet again and your heart skips a beat. The fact that you can’t see anything makes it far worse as your sense of touch becomes more sensitive. Your shaking hand dabs the point where you think the nail polish goes and you begin painting.

Gojo’s amusement must have stopped too since you don’t hear him chuckling anymore. Is he looking at you? Or is he looking at his poor skin whenever you miss the fingernail? He doesn’t have his blindfold on so his eyes have to be focused on something.

But what?

The silence becomes unmanageable and the constant skin against skin friction twists your insides. Is it just you? Or does he also think the same way?

“You know, you have pretty eyes. If you start an Instagram page with photos of them then you’ll get a following in no time,” you offhandedly mention to start a conversation. Knowing Gojo he’ll take the compliment, tease you a bit and move on. You shift around in the pillow before progressing onto the other hand, having speedrun the first, before he starts talking.

“That’s not a bad idea. You can do the eyeshadow and we can make some money,” he hums in agreement. The sound of extra cash nearly makes you drool but then a realisation hits you, like a truck an isekai protagonist. If you were to do the eyeshadow then you will no doubt have to be very close to his face. No way.

“On second thought, I don’t think we have the time,” you laugh it off.

His disagreement comes soon after.

“Haaaaaaah?! Then why did you mention it?”. His muscles tense, about to pull back to cross his arms but he remembers that you’re in the middle of painting his nails.

After that, you both fall silent again.

In the end, you get through the last finger and close the nail polish bottle. You tried your best, having taken your time despite it making you feel a certain way whenever you had to touch him longer than is necessary.

You get up and reach out to unhook the blindfold but larger hands stop you in your tracks from behind. They pull yours away and drop them at your sides.

“Allow the amazing gentleman, Gojo Satoru,” he gently takes it off as you stand unmoving.

When light from the window hits your face, you scrunch your eyelids shut, waiting to adjust to the bright atmosphere. A hand patting down your hair makes them shoot open and you turn around to complain.

Whatever you were going to say gets caught in your throat as you look up into his light blue eyes. His expression is serene, free of any worries but his eyes seem to be trying to speak a thousand words.

They too look composed but you get the feeling that he’s trying to communicate something to you.

Swallowing, you clench your hand (conscious of the recently dry nail polish), and place it over your chest. “Satoru..um,” you pause, not fully comprehending what you want to say, or rather, how you want to say it.

Your eyes widen when you notice his hand traveling towards yours.

Clumsily spinning around, you head for the pillows and shake off the dust that accumulated on them.

“Thanks for today. I’ll have a nap, since I’m still tired from the flight.”

You show your gratitude but hide the words your heart wanted to really express.

You don’t turn around to see his expression. The sound of his blindfold going over his eyes is what you hear first. Then,

“Don’t worry your sleepy head over it! Sweet dreams, (Y/n)”.

The door opens and closes gently behind you.

Once you’re sure that he is far down the hallway, you throw yourself onto your bed, put the pillow over your face and scream. Feeling a little foolish, you stop and look over your nails.

He really did a great job.

-Next Day-

The sun is shining brightly therefore there is no better time to take a walk. Which is why you aren’t surprised when you stumble upon Sukuna’s vessel, Itadori Yuuji.

The teenager has a tub of ice cream with him. Maybe you should get some too? Gojo is bound to have some in his mini freezer.

“Ah! Hello, (L/n)-san,” the boy waves his hand in greeting and jogs over.

“Itadori-kun, is it alright for you to be outside like this?,” you ask with concern.

There are only a few people that know about his current state of being alive. When you heard that he died, you came as fast as possible to comfort Gojo.

“It’s fine! Everyone is gone and Ijichi-san is on the lookout at the front gate. He’s meant to give me a ring you see”. He looks down.

“Oh! You’ve got some nice nails there,” he points out as he takes a bite out of the dessert. “You match with Gojo-sensei,” he adds after a second.

You pause your appreciative smile at his compliment. Excuse me?

“Excuse me? Match?,” you prod him to elaborate.

The teenager scratches his cheek.

“Ehh, but he said the plan was to match all along. Though they don't exactly look the same”.

Your eyes tear up in embarrassment at the turn of events. You’re matching nails? You thought for definite that he would wash them off when he gets back to his room. Not only that but putting the blindfold over your eyes must have been his sly way of making sure that you don't notice they're the same colour.

Itadori shakes his hands in front of him before bowing. “I-I’m sorry (L/n)-san! I did not mean to insult the way you painted Gojo-sensei’s nails. They are a bit tactless compared to yours but that’s okay,” he apologises profusely, mistaking the root of your shame.

‘That dumbass Gojo Satoru’

#gojou satoru x reader #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #fanfiction #oneshot #I like hands duh but if i went into more detail i would get high blood pressure

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