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sunflower-author · 4 months

Note

Hello 😁🤚🏻

I hope you are in good health and have a full spirit 💖

I'm having trouble getting in a writing mood and reading others story always make me happy. I've never really sent request before so this would be my frist, I hope it's not much trouble, and if you can't find inspiration for it, I'll understand if you can't or don't want to do it.

I was hoping you could write a yandere assassination classroom, the entire class of 3-E or just a few like Karma, Nagisa, Itona (anyone really) with a reader that couldn't care less about their yandere nature, and someone blurts out (do to feeling guilty) that they have been stalking them home and had taking some of their stuff (the class thinking reader will get mad) but reader just shrugged and say they already knew and that they need to work on their stalking because she figured them out on day 2. Gender doesn't matter, but if you do gender fluid that be nice if not anything else is good.

If you don't wish to write it, please say no◇

Please have a good day/night. ♡

SO SORRY!! This took much longer than I anticipated for!!

I really hope you like it!! If not please lmk on things I can fix!!!

Also, somehow this was a bit rushed too sorry!

~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~

"Hey Ritsu, are you connected?" Tomohito asks, sitting down at a desk beside her.

"Yes, the girls put the cameras in, there are no blind spots," Ritsu answers.

"Wait, no blind spots? Wouldn't that be... I don't know..." Kaede says worried.

"The cameras are only in their living room, we didn't put any cameras in anything else if that was what you were thinking," Tomohito says reassuring Kaede.

"Well we did put some listening devices, in some of the plushies we gave them, isn't that right? Itona?" Rio asks, putting an arm around him.

"Making them was a bit tricky, but it was a lot easier to make than the cameras," Itona says, playing with his remote car.

"You guys are seriously trying too hard," Karma says, in a mocking tone having his dumb smirk, plastered on his face.

"Really now? and what do you suggest we do differently?" Ryoma asks, clearly annoyed.

"You all a bunch of babies, if you really loved Y/N you'll skip this boring stalking thing, and just take things into your own hands," Karma says, with a statistic smile.

"If we were to do that Y/N would hate us forever," Nagisa counters back.

"Really?, Because I think that if we keep them long enough, they will eventually fall for us, I mean humans are social creatures, needing contact in order to survive, with us being their only contact they will eventually fall for us, right?" Karma says explaining.

"Even if that were to happen, if we keep them isolated they might break, losing themselves then loving us, I don't want that to happen," Nagisa says seriously, looking up at Karma.

"A small price that might be paid," Karma says, shrugging "But if it were just me, they wouldn't break, but now that I am sharing the chances would be higher," he says as if the class were all just a nuisance.

"Guys! Shut Up! Y/N just walked into the building!" Hinata says, panting a bit as she just ran into the room.

With that, the room goes silent...

Until...

"Takuya I'm sorry, but I'm busy after school today how about tomorrow?" you say walking in the room. All eyes are on you, ".....Um.. Hey guys?" you say unsurely.

The tension in the room faded, and they all started talking like nothing happened. It was a bit scary how the mood can change like a flip of a switch.

"Hey Y/N! What were you talking about with Takuya?" Manami asks, in her usual timid voice.

"Oh just if I was able to hand out at the ramen place later on today, but I'm hanging out with Rinka and Ryunosuke later," you say casually.

"Heh, sorry Takuya but there are already three of us, maybe next time we'll invite you," Rinka says teasingly.

"Hey Y/N, do you wanna come with me to the teacher's lounge? Korosensei just came back from Germany yesterday," Kaede asks, popping her head out the door. "Sounds fun and good, I'm in," you say excitedly, as you head out the door.

Takuya waits for your footsteps to become gone before saying "You just want more pictures of Y/N that's the only reason you and Ryunosuke, are taking them out," clearly annoyed.

"Oh whatever, you always like looking at the pictures in the end, just like everyone else," Ryunosuke says rolling his eyes.

"I.. just make sure they're good," Takuya says embarrassed.

"Your talking to the best snippers in class 3-E, we always have good visuals on our target," Rinka says, hearing the pride in her voice.

"I thought you guys said that Rinka and Ryunosuke stopped taking pictures of Y/N?" Manami asks worried.

"I... well... it's complicated," Hiroto says, trying to explain it to her, as he was the one who told Manami that they stopped taking pictures of Y/N.

"He obviously lied to you," Karma says blankly. "Your too empathic, we needed you to stop worrying over Y/N, knowing that you would break, telling them everything... well ruining everything for all of us," Karma says explaining.

"I admit that I'm not the best actor, but you guys didn't have to lie about Y/N, I care about them, just as much as any of you guys, I even made the drugs you asked for," Manami says, as he holds up a bag of different bottles.

"Wait... what drugs?" Nagisa asks, confused and curious.

"You know the the drugs, I made my own chloroform, something that calms the mind, something that weakens muscles, and lastly something that can make them sleepy," Manami says explaining.

"We didn't... Karma!" Nagisa says, angry by the thought Karma would do such a thing.

"So what if I was, I promise I won't do it alright, especially now that you know," Karma says as he puts his hands up.

"Hey guys! We're back," Kaede says, walking through the door. Signaling to everyone that you are nearby, it became a habit sometimes when they talk they become so engaged in the conversation, that they lose track of anything else, including your presence.

"Ah Y/N, just the person I wanted to see," Karma says, with a sweet smile. You know something is up when he smiles like that, just when does he normally smile sweetly?

"Karma... what do you want?" You ask hesitantly, staying cautious.

"You know, we barely spend time with each other, most of the time you just hang out with everyone else... it seems like your avoiding me," he says hurt, clearly acting.

"Karma you know that's not true, everyone just makes plans with me every single second of the day, you know this, so what's your point?" you ask, wondering what he is trying to say.

"It's just that...don't you think it's a bit odd... that every day you have someone that wants to hang out with you, it's a bit abnormal behavior? Ever noticed how everyone treats you slightly differently? Or the fact that they know small details about you, that you've never shared before? Do you wonder why is that?" Karma says still smiling, but with a mischievous face.

"Karma..." Nagisa says, with a dark look, warning Karma.

"You messed up my plan, I'm just returning the favor," Karma says looking at Nagisa, then turns to you.

"Well, don't you?" Karma says in a smug tone.

"... I wonder why, on my first day of school, Rinka and Ryunosuke were following me home, I wonder why Kotaro somehow knows when I'm going to mess up on things, I wonder why Nagisa has a whole notebook dedicated to me, and lastly I wonder why you act so innocent when you are the worst one out of everyone, do seriously think I don't know that you hurt people that I talk to that is not in this class? And a whole lot more things of you and the rest of the class," You say, calm and collected.

"You knew this whole time?..." Nagisa asks with wide eyes.

"Anyone would have been able to see and know what you all were planning," You say turning to look back at him. (Any normal person would be oblivious to it all)

"Heh, I knew I couldn't fall in love with just any normal person, turns out you truly are unique," Karma says proud that you were conscious of what they were doing.

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undreaming-fanfiction · 1 year

Text

No matter how stupid or futile this is, I have to do it, I have to write everything down. Maybe it will help me remember, although I have to say forgetting sounds pretty amazing right now. Still, I need to make sense of things, but at least clear my head.

Who am I kidding. This is not for me. It's for you and I so, so hope you will be able to read it. That you'll understand what I went through and why it had to end this way.

Right. Let's do it before this paper disappears along with this fucking day.

It's March 1986 and out of all the fucked up things that have happened in my life, this one takes the cake. Two murders with a curse, power of mind, whatever. People fall asleep standing, start floating, die with a crunch and there's no sign of it stopping, so that's fun. And by fun I mean really fucking horrible. It seems I'm writing the word "fuck" a lot. It helps a bit.

Nancy said, I mean, will say later today...that the guy, Vecna, Henry Creel, One, who honestly cares, plans to do some really messed up shit with Hawkins. And yeah, which villain doesn't have plans like that, but this one means it. Like, really means it. I saw it happen again and again and for some fucked up reason, some higher power chose me to fix this. Just adorable.

Why it chose me, I have no fucking clue. Anyone else would have been a better choice - Dustin and that huge brain of his would figure out not only what to do, but also why it's happening. He'd make sure Vecna would bite the dust during the second, third loop. Maybe it would be a week, but he'd get it eventually. Robin would run around like a headless chicken, but she'd start piecing things together. Nancy? She'd grab a gun or twenty and make sure everyone lives to see another day. Me? I can't get anything right.

I tried telling the others, but honestly, where do you start? You all die horrible and gory deaths. I've seen you choked, broken, torn apart, bleeding out, bones crushed to pieces, all that and more. I keep trying to fix things, but you don't listen to me and at this point, I don't even want to tell anyone because you look at me in that sad, pitying way, as if I was stupid - and shit, maybe I am, okay, not much going on under this fabulous hair, but the last time I tried telling you, you forced me to sit it out and nothing changed, except I just had to wait, listen to your screaming on the walkie. That has been the worst loop so far.

And what's even worse is how much I know about all of you now. I never thought the end of the world would take this long, but I've spent days changing things, piece by piece, but it still ends in bloodshed. But I keep the pieces of you all I've collected along the way and they make the stakes so much higher, so much more cruel. I used to think I know all of you but now I feel like I have some extra puzzle pieces that were thrown in the box and I need to keep them a secret. Day by day I keep learning about everyone...and about myself.

You hate yourself so much and I don't understand it. You do the best you can with the hand you're given and I admire it so much, even if I saw you in a completely different light only a few days ago. But ever since we met in that boathouse, you intrigue me. What you do for the kids, for Dustin...you need to survive this. You need to live because I can't imagine a world without you.

I'm going to try something different today. I used to charge with you, storm the Creel house, but this time I will have to stay behind. Maybe it's just a matter of time, maybe you just need a few more minutes, seconds...but I can't stand to see you die again.

If by any chance this paper makes it with all of you to the next day, I just want to say it was an honor to meet you. I'm so glad I could learn so much about you, understand you, learn to love you for who you are. Maybe it's a matter of a simple exchange and I'm willing to try, because to me you're worth it. I wonder if we could have been friends, maybe something more, if we were only given more time.

Hm. Can't believe I wrote that. Sorry, didn't mean to make this awkward, but marching towards certain death makes you brave.

Please take care of everyone, Steve. And yourself too. Especially yourself.

Love Yours Thank you for everything.

Eddie

#steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie drabble #stranger things time loop #so what if what we got is actually the final time loop?#what if Eddie chose this one because it left most of the gang alive?#also nope Steve never saw the letter #he left it at the trailer #and then the gate thing happened so #yeah

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cats-inthe-cradle · 1 year

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Continuation of this post because, yeah it just got too long I couldn't handle it anymore

@sea-jello

Hmmm thinking about how long it would take them to travel all across ninjago (I think it's safe to assume to weapons are spread out as far away from each other as possible but idk) and I'm not sure it would take months (although, that does depend on about how many months you mean exactly), but also they *are* traveling by foot (and pulling Wu's cart 💀) most of the time so maybe, idk I'm probably not the best judge of distance and traveling time so. Plus it would be very easy to come up with reasons for them to be delayed either way, so whatever you think would be best. But probably at least a month. (And yeah a longer time would definitely explain Kai's desperation). Also yess the more Morro gets his hopes up the better >:3

NOT FOR SAVING HIM NO shdhd I meant like he gets mad at Kai for implying/revealing Lloyd as the green ninja (if Kai's still the first one to come to the realization in this) cuz at this point Morro's still hoping to prove himself worthy to be the green ninja, so maybe in his devastation and desperation he lashes out kind of a thing?

Hmm yeah, maybe today I'll go glance over the episodes and see if there's a good spot that stands out. And yeah 😔 BUT imagine the angst of the other ninja running into younger Morro after everything that's happened

OH YOUR RIGHT hmm idk what reason wu would have for not telling them sooner? Or doing something about Kai and Nya being left to take care of themselves? Idk it'd depend on how much he knows about the kids' situation but either way whatever his reasoning he probably thought is was for the best 🥲 but STILL THE ANGST AUGHHH

YESS EXACTLY

AUGHHH Zane's death being more incentive for him to stay away my heart 😭 (I love it)

YESSSSSS ALL OF THIS YES

I feel like Morro would be angered by how like, settled Lloyd had become in the position of green ninja at that point. And like it's just building until the fight happens.

EXACTLY SGDHD Morro barely restrains himself from flying right back up there to beat him up properly

SGDHFJFJ YEAH OKAY FAIR ILL WRITE IF YOU DRAW DEAL? WE CAN FUEL EACH OTHER

YEAH YEAH YEAH

Yeah that's fair. Morro bud you're self-destructive tendencies are showing 😭

Hmmm I almost feel like we'd need him to show up as a villain at some point if only so he can get a spot in the hall of villains and feasibly come back during dotd (that is if he dies at the end of s5). And also for fun angst and drama. But also I feel like he'd be less likely to become a villain in this? (unless it was just to be a menace to the ninja) cuz like in this he actually got the chance to learn what it meant to be a hero? So he wouldn't be as likely to put innocents in harms way? Hmmm

Oooo what if he's only pretending to be a villain? Like maybe he's set out to take down as many bad guys as possible (because he still wants to help people but also maybe he's still trying to prove himself worthy of the green gi as well) but he goes about that by pretending to be one so he can get in close with higher end dudes and take them out. But literally NOBODY knows this (the ninja may have their doubts) so everyone thinks hes a legit villain and even when he takes out a group or something everyone just assumes it's for villainous reasons and not that he's targeting them. Also he 'hates' the ninja and has no qualms about attacking them most of the time so he really sells it.

YEP YEP YEPP

Oop I hit the image limit but YAYY WE'RE GETTING SOMEWHERE WITH THE TIMELINE

Also I think so? Which green ninja reveal are you referring to specifically the Morro one or the Lloyd one?

#this took sooooo long to reply to i kept getting distracted by my brother playing BotW 😭😭

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criminalmindzjunkie · 3 years

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Hungry Eyes

masterlist

Summary: Spencer is tired of hiding your relationship.

A/N: The idea for this fic came from a lovely anon that requested a fic based on She’s So Nice by Pink Guy. I also drew inspo from Hungry Eyes by Eric Carmen (strange mix, but stay with me here.) So basically, a lot of Dom!Spencer goodness. I’d like to say a huge thank you for almost 1k followers, because wow. I never imagined 5 people would actually want to read my writing. I love you all, and I hope you all enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future works!

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader

Warnings: swearing, jealousy, degradation, spitting, slapping, oral sex (male and female receiving), spanking, vaginal penetration, unprotected sex

Word Count: 5.5k

“That is one fine piece of ass. Don’t think I could get any work done with a sweet little thing like that prancing around my precinct,” mutters yet another sleezeball detective, beady eyes trained on you like a lion might study their prospective prey. It’s moments like these that Spencer has to remind himself that patience is a virtue – that he must bite his tongue because he’s at work and that means he has to act professional. Even if those around him don’t seem capable of affording him the same luxury.

So, it’s with a clenched jaw and all the self-restraint that he can muster that Spencer forces himself to focus on the task at hand. Because Spencer is a professional, and there are more pressing matters that demand his undivided attention. The detective could be dealt with later – in the form of a complaint to the higher ups. But for now, patience.

Usually, this wouldn’t be a problem. Years on the job had taught Spencer to remain level headed no matter the circumstance. Usually, Spencer could tune out the locker room talk in favor of immersing himself into the case. But when it came to you, or rather, people who dared to look upon you with eyes laden with lustful intentions, Spencer had a rather short fuse.

It happens often, and he supposes that he shouldn’t be surprised. You’d certainly turned his head the first time he was fortunate enough to lay eyes on you. He’d nearly broken his neck trying to steal another glimpse of you as you walked past him on your way to Emily’s office on your first day. No one would ever describe Spencer Reid as forward, but on that day, he was the most brazen he’d ever been.

Throwing caution to the wind, Spencer made a split-second decision stop you and introduce himself.

It was the best decision he would ever make.

So, yes – he understood why the head of everyone you passed turned your way, eager to bask in your unparalleled beauty. But that didn’t mean that he had to like it. In fact, every time Spencer caught some imprudent bastard leering at you, he had to remind himself that enacting physical force on another person with no real reason could cost him his job. That, and he was above resorting to violence – or at least he was, until you came around.

Part of his anger was rooted in the obvious lack of respect. It didn’t matter if Spencer held your hand in his as the two of you walked down the street, or if he kissed you on the lips in the middle of a crowded restaurant. All the PDA in the world did nothing to assuage the lingering stares, and Spencer felt his sanity chip away with every passing day.

In the beginning, keeping his relationship with you a secret from your colleagues seemed like a good enough idea. Both of you were in agreement that you didn’t want to your personal relationship to affect your professional one, so when the elevator doors opened up and the two of you stepped out into the bullpen, you both were on your best behavior. And it was okay at first – Spencer was able to put his romantic feelings aside and focus on his work, all while still being able to make eyes at you from across the room. It was the perfect arrangement.

Until it wasn’t.

Because it wasn’t enough that you were gorgeous – you were also the most selfless person that Spencer had ever met. Always eager to lend a hand to anyone in need – always seeing the best in everyone, regardless of if they deserve it or not. It was an admirable quality to have, and he loved you for it, but on days like today he wishes you were a little more perceptive.

That, and he wishes you’d chosen to wear anything but the tight little skirt and low-cut top that you were currently sporting. Not that he didn’t love the way the fabric clung to your figure like it was tailor-made for you – because he did - it was just that every other male in the precinct seemed to enjoy it as much as he did. And that made Spencer’s blood boil.

The tipping point comes when, just as Spencer is trying to hunt you down and propose a quick lunch break, he finds you engaging in conversation with the very same detective that had been spouting lewd comments about you all morning. You’re seated at the breakroom table, clutching a fresh cup of coffee in hand as you look up at the man, a polite smile upturning your lips as you listen to him drone on about how his amateur baseball team had won some stupid fucking tournament the previous weekend. He’s smiling down at you, endlessly smug and way too pleased with himself at having captured your attention.

It makes Spencer sick.

His reprieve comes when your eyes flit to the doorway and you flash him a breathtaking smile. It makes him warm from the inside out, and Spencer wants nothing more than to plant kiss after kiss on your lips. Unfortunately, he can’t, so he settles on returning your smile.

“There you are,” Spencer greets as he crosses the room before coming to a stop next to you. “I was thinking we could go grab lunch.”

“Is it really lunch time already?” you murmur as you glance down at your watch. “I guess I let the day get away from me. Detective Yarborough was just telling me about the baseball game his team won this weekend.”

“Oh, was he now,” Spencer feigns interest as he turns to face the man.

“Yup,” you say, completely oblivious to the uncomfortable tension. “Didn’t you tell me you played in a baseball game once?”

This piques the interest of Yarborough and he raises an eyebrow at Spencer.

“You play?” he asks, tone laden with disbelief.

“Not exactly.”

The detective merely harrumphs in response, and an uncomfortable silence falls on the room.

Your eyes dart between the two men and your brows furrow adorably as you try to make sense of the almost palpable animosity.

“Okay… So, lunch. Did you have anything in mind, Spence?”

“There’s a really good pizza joint two blocks from here,” Yarborough chimes in. “I could show you, if you like.”

He acts as if the offer extends to you both, but the way he looks only at you when he says it tells Spencer otherwise.

“The hospitality is appreciated, but that won’t be necessary,” Spencer breezes, clipped and to the point. He’s able to see in his peripheral vision the way your eyebrows raise in shock, but he’s too busy glaring at the detective to care.

“Uh, yeah. Thanks anyways, Detective,” you mutter confusedly as you stand.

“Anything for a pretty lady such as yourself,” he replies. “And you can call me Trevor.”

Spencer’s hands are clenched into fists and he has to actually bite down on his tongue to keep from doing something he’d surely regret later. You bid Trevor ado with a smile and a parting wave, and then Spencer’s ushering you out of the room and down the hall, hand placed firmly on your back. He can’t do much in regards to initiating physical contact, but he allows himself this miniscule act of PDA. The feeling of your warmth radiating through your blouse is the only thing keeping him from giving into his primal instincts. Instincts that are screaming at him to put that smarmy bastard in his place.

The hours after lunch pass by rather uneventfully. You accompany Tara when she goes to interview the victim’s family, and for the first-time all-day Spencer is able to repress his frustration long enough to focus on piecing together a geographical profile. By the time you and Tara return, the sun has long since disappeared from the sky and fatigue is rolling off everyone in waves. When Emily finally announces the end of the day, she’s met with absolutely no resistance.

Spencer immediately scans the room for you, only to frown when he sees that you’re nowhere in sight. In fact, he hasn’t set eyes on you in well over an hour, too busy wrapping up the days’ work to notice your absence until now.

“Has anyone seen Y/N?” Spencer calls out. His question is met by several shaking heads.

“I think she’s busy,” JJ sing-songs, eyebrows waggling suggestively. Spencer’s frown only deepens.

“Busy?”

JJ nods.

“Yarborough has been chomping at the bit to ask her to dinner. My guess is he’s got her cornered somewhere.”

Of fucking course.

Spencer’s out of his seat and stomping through the precinct in second, oblivious to the way his coworkers exchange curious glances as he storms off.

He finds the two of you in much the same way as before, only this time Trevor is blocking your path to the doorway, hand in the air as he moves to tuck a stray piece of your hair behind your ear.

“– C’mon, babe. Say you’ll go to dinner with me,” Trevor croons in a way that’s supposed to come off as seductive. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

You lean backwards in an attempt to evade his touch, and you barely get the chance to open your mouth when Spencer intervenes.

“She’s not interested.”

The detective whips around, snorting in annoyance when he sees Spencer standing in the doorway.

“What are you, her fucking keeper?” Trevor sneers, before turning back to face you. “Who does this guy think he is?”

Something in Spencer snaps, then – the same something that has been swelling inside him for months, threatening to spill over every time he had to pretend that the stares didn’t enrage him. He’s tired of pretending, tired of hiding, and so, so fucking tired of not putting assholes like Trevor Yarborough in their place.

Fueled by months of suppressed anger, Spencer manages to cross the room in about two seconds. He has several inches on the detective, standing at an intimidating six-foot one inch in height, so when he comes to a stop right in front of the detective, he’s looming over him threateningly.

“I’m her fucking boyfriend, and if you so much as try to touch her again, I’ll break your goddamn hand,” Spencer spits out, and he’d be lying if he said the way Trevor’s eyes widen in fear doesn’t thrill him. “Are we clear?”

“Uh, yeah. Sorry, dude,” Trevor splutters, raising his hands in surrender. “Didn’t know she was taken. My bad.”

Spencer tears his eyes away from the detective and takes in the way you’re watching on with an amused expression. He reaches out, and you’re quick to place your hand in his. Without speaking another word to the detective, Spencer leads you from the room and out the back entrance of the precinct.

“What was that?” you tease, eyes glistening mischievously underneath the street lights. “I thought we agreed that we weren’t taking things public just yet?”

Spencer crowds you against the brick wall of the building, pressing his body flush against yours. He ducks down swiftly, pulling you into a frenzied kiss. His lips drag against yours relentlessly, and all it takes is one breathy moan before he’s licking into your mouth possessively. Spencer slots his knee in between your legs, simultaneously groping at your chest with one hand as the other tangles in your hair.

When Spencer pulls away, he doesn’t go far. His lips leave a trail of wet kisses down your neck as you writhe against him, hands clinging tightly to his dress shirt. You whimper when his teeth nip at the tender spot right under your ear, and you can’t help the way your hips cant up when Spencer’s tongue brushes against reddened skin.

“I’m tired of pretending,” Spencer murmurs as his mouth continues to move against you, sucking purple bruises against your flesh. “Don’t fucking care about how it will affect the job. Tomorrow, everyone’s gonna know that you’re mine. Gonna mark every inch of you tonight – gonna fuck you until you can’t fucking walk.”

“Please,” you slur as you guide Spencer’s hand down until his fingers graze the end of your skirt. Spencer chuckles darkly against your neck when his hand brushes against the soiled lace of your panties.

“Didn’t mean I’d fuck you right here,” he laughs, prompting you to let out an impatient whine. The hand that was previously tangled in your hair slides down until it’s wrapped around your throat, and Spencer’s cock twitches eagerly in his pants when you push your throat harder into his palm. “Such a needy little slut for me. Ready and willing for me to fuck you out in the open, where anyone could walk by and see how fucking desperate you are for my cock.”

“M’ your slut,” you pant as Spencer’s middle and index fingers ghost across your center. “Only yours, Spence. I don’t care who sees, just - please fuck me!”

“I fucking own you,” Spencer growls against your lips as he tightens his hold on your throat. “And as much as I’d love to take you right against this wall, the things I have planned for you would elicit quite an audience. I know how loud you like to be.”

Spencer pushes your panties to the side and you let out a low hiss as he drags a finger across where want him most. You cry out in frustration when he removes his hand to bring it up to his mouth, tongue darting out to lick his finger clean.

“Just needed a little taste to tide me over,” Spencer murmurs, smirking devilishly at you as he steps back from you. “Let’s head back to the hotel. I’ve got lots I wanna do to you, pretty girl.”

As soon as the door to the hotel room clicks shut, clothes are flying off as the two of you make your way to the bed. It’s a mad dash as you both undress, and as soon as the last garment leaves your body, Spencer pounces on you. Your lips meet in a passionate kiss, and the way you immediately go pliant as Spencer’s mouth works against yours makes him hum appreciatively.

“Don’t feel like being nice tonight. Are you gonna let me use that pretty little pussy however I want?” Spencer inquires, though he already knows the answer. He’s known how tonight would pan out ever since the first roll of your hips against his back at the police station.

You nod fervently, hopelessly, and Spencer moves his hand up to grip your chin in his hand. The pad of his thumb traces over the swollen skin of your kiss bruised lips.

“What about this?” he asks, tapping lightly against your lip. “Are you gonna let me fuck this slutty little mouth of yours?” Spencer slips his thumb into your mouth and you immediately close your lips around the digit, suckling lightly. Your eyes never leave his.

“You’d do anything I asked you to, wouldn’t you, pet?” Spencer muses, pressing his thumb farther into your mouth until you gag around him. Spencer withdraws his thumb and his hand tugs hard on the hair at the back of your scalp. “Open.”

You oblige immediately, and Spencer spits into your waiting mouth. You swallow without being instructed, and the visual of it makes Spencer let out a low groan.

“Get on your knees,” Spencer barks out, and the way you scramble to follow his order makes him let out a chuckle. “So eager to have my cock in your mouth,” he hums as he taps his dick teasingly against your cheek. You open your mouth wide for him, and Spencer guides your mouth down onto his dick at a tantalizingly slow pace. You let out a moan as you hollow your cheeks around his head, tongue lapping greedily at the precum that gathered there before Spencer makes you take him deeper.

“Everyone thinks you’re such an innocent little thing, but here you are, letting me use you like a cheap whore while you enjoy every minute of it,” Spencer says through gritted teeth as you moan wantonly around his cock. It isn’t until he’s halfway down your throat that your eyes begin to water, mascara running down your cheeks as he fucks into your mouth.

Spencer lets out a choked sound when your nose brushes against the skin of his abdomen, and he has to fight the urge to throw his head back in pleasure. He doesn’t want to look away, not even for a moment. Not when you’re looking up at him like that, tears running down your face as you swallow around his length.

He pulls you off him just the tiniest bit before he’s forcing you back down, a string of curses falling from his lips as your head bobs up and down.

“You take my cock so well, pretty girl,” Spencer praises, prompting you to let out a muffled moan around him. The vibrations send a shock of pleasure through him and he can help the way his hips stutter. “Fuck, baby. You like it when I tell you what a perfect little whore you are, don’t you?”

You’re unable to answer, because Spencer presses down on the back of your head until you’ve taken all of him again. The pressure he puts on you doesn’t relent, not even when you gag around him.

“Fucking choke on it, slut,” Spencer grunts. “Don’t act like you don’t want this. You were just begging me to fuck you in an alley not twenty minutes ago, like some pathetic fucking tramp. You wanna act like a tramp, I’m gonna treat you like one.”

Spencer’s lips curl into a debauched grin when your hands come up and grip the backs of his thighs, pulling him closer and further down your throat.

“That’s what I fucking thought,” Spencer moans, giving several more harsh thrusts before pulling you off of him completely. Spencer reaches down to wipe at the spit that coats your lips as you look up at him with a shy smile.

“You okay, pretty girl?” Spencer asks as he caresses the side of your face.

“Mm,” you hum, nuzzling your face against his palm. “Keep going, please. Don’t hold back.”

“God, I fucking love you,” Spencer sighs happily. “Get on the bed.”

By the time Spencer fishes a tie out of his suitcase, you’re sprawled out across the bed, head resting against the pillows with your legs spread wide. Your teeth are nestled against your bottom lip as you watch him stalk towards you, eyes running up and down his naked figure appreciatively.

Spencer crawls onto the bed until he’s settled in between your legs. You present your wrists to him, just like you’ve done a million times before, and Spencer feels that familiar thrum of excitement rush through his body. He fucking lives for moments like these – moments where all his problems melt away to nothing. Moments where he has no other thought than wrecking you, thoroughly and completely.

Once your wrists are bound you hold them above you, and Spencer sits back on his heels, eyes raking up and down every inch of you.

“M’ so fucking lucky to be the only one who gets to see you like this.”

Spencer pinches your right nipple in between his fingers and you let out a squeak, hips bucking up, desperate for some friction. He kneads your breast in his hand as he lowers his mouth to the other one, tongue laving around you. A light nip from his teeth is all that it takes for you to cry out, eyelids fluttering closed.

“Spence, please. Need you to touch me now, pl-”

Spencer’s hand connecting with your cheek stops you from finishing your sentence.

“Do not tell me what to do,” Spencer seethes, once again gripping your chin to keep you from looking away. “Ungrateful slut. I should just leave you here, fucking dripping and desperate for a release that you won’t get. Maybe then you’d learn to take what’s given to you.”

“Please, no! I’ll be good, I swear. I’m sorry!”

Spencer narrows his eyes at you, contemplative.

“Open.”

You do as he says, and without another word Spencer inserts two fingers into your mouth, pressing down hard on your tongue.

“Get them nice and wet, and maybe I’ll think about using them on you.”

You do as he tells you, and by the time Spencer removes his fingers from your mouth, you’re trembling underneath him from anticipation.

“D-Did I do good?” you stutter out, batting your lashes at him as you squirm under his gaze.

“So good, baby. I think you’ve earned my fingers,” Spencer hums. “Need you to be still, okay? You’re not gonna like what happens if you try to move.”

You nod enthusiastically, eyes fluttering shut when his fingers brush across your clit. Spencer spends ample time rubbing deliciously slow circles over your sensitive bundle of nerves, relishing in every gasp and whimper that falls from your lips. Lips that he’d very much like to kiss, so he does, and you’re more than happy to reciprocate. Spencer lets out a happy sigh into your mouth.

You get lost in the kiss, so lost in the way that Spencer licks into your mouth that it catches you completely off guard when he slides two fingers into you.

“Oh, God,” you moan when Spencer curls his fingers against your walls, fucking them in and out of you, slow and unrelenting.

“S’that feel good, princess?” Spencer asks, a teasing lilt to his voice. “Tell me how it feels.”

Your head falls back against the pillows as you struggle to keep your hips firmly placed on the mattress.

“Feels amazing, Spence. Always feels so good with you. Never want anyone else, only you.”

And fuck, if that sentiment doesn’t shoot straight to his heart - amongst other places. Spencer places a tender kiss to your cheek before he’s moving down to your neck and sucking a bruise right under your jaw.

“Yeah?” Spencer prompts. “Not even that stupid fucking detective? I’m sure he’d love a chance to see you like this.”

“So, you were jealous,” you chuckle between moans, and Spencer bites down hard where your neck meets your shoulder.

“F-Fuck, Spencer!”

“Should I be jealous?” Spencer speeds up the onslaught of his fingers, scissoring them at such an unforgiving pace that you can’t help but roll your hips against them.

You regret this instantly, because Spencer’s fingers immediately pull out of you, leaving you empty and cold. Spencer tuts, shaking his head disappointedly.

“Dumb little whore can’t even sit still long enough to cum on my fingers.”

“Please, let me try again. I’ll do better, I promise!”

Spencer shakes his head and scoots up until his back is rested against the pillows.

“C’mere,” he commands. “Lay across my lap. Or can you not follow simple commands?”

“I-I can,” you whisper as you crawl across him, splaying out so that you rest on your elbows with your ass in the air.

Spencer grabs a handful of your ass and kneads it in his hands.

“How many do you think you deserve?”

You blush and smile shyly at him from over your shoulder.

“However many you want to give me. I can take it.”

Spencer returns your smile.

“Good answer. I think you can handle fifteen. How does that sound?”

“Sounds perfect. T-Thank you, Spencer,” you mumble, cheeks burning red. Spencer continues to caress the tender skin of your bare ass, admiring the way the skin is completely blank; the perfect canvas.

You let out a whimper when his hand comes down hard on your ass before kneading the sensitive, reddening skin.

“T-Thank you,” you gasp out, and Spencer is quick to follow up with another strike against the opposite cheek.

It goes on like this until it’s time for the fifteenth strike, and by then you’ve devolved into garbled whines, ass bright red and marked up with the imprint of Spencer’s hands. His dick is painfully hard underneath you, and you’re in a similar state – arousal dripping onto Spencer’s thigh, coating it.

“Last one, baby. Do you think you can handle it?”

“Y-Yes,” you choke out. “Please, I need it. Hurt me, please.”

The desperation in your voice does things to him, makes him practically feral with the need to fucking tear you apart, and Spencer is quick to deliver the final blow. You barely even have it in you to cry out anymore – a feeble sob is all that falls from your lips.

Spencer’s hand ghosts down across your bruised skin until his fingertips trace over where you drip for him.

“You like it when I punish you, don’t you, dirty girl?” Spencer hums as his fingers glide over your soaked folds.

“Y-Yes,” you mewl, shifting so that your cunt grinds back onto his hand. Spencer indulges you - allows you to rock your hips against his palm as he watches on in awe, soaking up every desperate sound that tumbles past your lips.

Spencer pulls his hand away after a moment and you keen in protest.

“Can you sit up for me, sweet girl?” Spencer asks, and you nod, because of course you do – you’d do anything if you thought it’d please him. You struggle to pull yourself up with shaky limbs, and Spencer puts a hand on your lower back to steady you. “Can you straddle my leg? Yeah, just like that.” Spencer pulls you down and places a slow kiss to your lips, one hand coming up to wipe away the tears gliding down your face. After a moment of slow, sweet kisses are shared, Spencer unties your wrists.

“I want you to ride my thigh – can you do that, princess?”

You whimper as you lower yourself down onto his leg, eyes fluttering shut as you begin to rock against the hardened muscle of his leg.

Spencer continues placing kisses on your lips, your face, your neck – worshipping every inch of skin he can reach with his mouth, all while whispering praises against you.

“So perfect for me. Prettiest girl I’ve ever seen,” he murmurs as he grips your hips with steady hands, urging you to increase the speed of your hips. “Can’t wait to have that perfect pussy wrapped around my cock. Always so tight, yet you take it so well every time.”

“S-Spence, m’ close,” you slur, hands clinging desperately to his shoulders.

“Already? You usually last a bit longer than that, baby.”

“P-Please, Spencer, I can’t-” you whimper, tears once again pricking at the corners of your eyes at the thought of having to wait a second longer.

“Shh, baby. It’s okay, you can cum,” Spencer reassures you, and your shoulders visibly untense. “Cum for me, pretty girl.”

It takes two more rolls of your hips for you to cum on Spencer’s thigh with a cry of his name. Spencer rubs soothing circles into your hips as you ride out your high, murmuring broken thank yous as you come down.

Finally, you still, and your eyes open, pupils so dilated that your eyes look almost black in the dim light of the hotel room.

“You okay, princess?”

You give a weak nod.

“M’great,” you smile, sounding as fucked out as he’s ever heard you. You lean down and slot your mouth against his, and the kiss is slow and languid – soft and unhurried.

Spencer is the first to pull away.

“Need you to get on all fours for me,” he instructs. “Don’t think you need to put any pressure on that pretty little ass of yours right now.”

You giggle at that, before crawling off of Spencer’s lap. You assume the position, and Spencer places a pillow underneath your hips before trailing a line of kisses down your spine. By the time he reaches your ass, you’re writing against him, wiggling your hips eagerly. Spencer places a kiss to both of your bruised cheeks before pulling away.

You let out a startled oh! when Spencer licks up your center, parting you with his fingers before fucking in and out of you with his tongue.

“S-Spence, oh my God, yes!” you cry out, hands fisting in the sheets as he continues to work his mouth against your core.

“Love your fucking pussy so much,” Spencer sighs against you, lapping at your clit hungrily. “Could fucking lick you out for hours. You taste so perfect, Y/N.”

Spencer lets out a filthy groan against you, and that’s all it takes for you to fall over the edge, wrecked moans filling the otherwise silent hotel room. This orgasm hits you both quicker and harder than the first, and he can’t help but smile against you as you rock back against his face, desperate to prolong the sensation. Spencer continues to work you through your orgasm, stopping only when you cease to twitch underneath him.

“Such a good girl for me. Think you can handle one more?”

You raise up just enough that you can look at him from over your shoulder.

“Yes, please,” you beg, voice scratchy and raw. “Please, fuck me.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Spencer chuckles. “Do you think you can lay on your back? I wanna see that pretty face when I make you cum on my cock.”

You answer by rolling over, wincing slightly when your ass comes in contact with the sheets. You look up at Spencer with wide, doe eyes. You have mascara smeared all down your cheeks and your lips are swollen, and to top it all off, deep, purple love bites are dusted across the entire expanse of your neck and chest. Spencer had set out to mark you as his – so that no one would be able to deny that you belonged to him – and he’d done a spectacular job, if he said so himself.

“God, you’re so fucking pretty.”

“Then come fuck me already,” you challenge, looking sated in every possible way – yet still, your eyes hold the same hunger that he’s sure is reflected in his own eyes.

Spencer leans down and traps your lips in a bruising kiss, and without warning he thrusts in you to the hilt. You cry out into the kiss, startled by the sudden intrusion, but Spencer sets a brutal pace that leaves you no time to recover.

“You said you wanted me to fuck you,” he growls against your lips. “Now fucking take it.”

He’s fucking into you so hard that you can’t even manage a reply – you just tighten your legs around his waist and drag your nails across the expanse of his back, no doubt leaving bright red marks in your wake. Spencer can feel his own release fast approaching – honestly, he’s been close ever since the first drag of his tongue against your pussy. And now that he’s finally enveloped into your tight, wet heat, that all too familiar feeling in the pit of his stomach is threatening to consume him.

Spencer’s hand descends from its place next to your head down to your clit, and your whole body jolts with the first swipe of his thumb. You clench around him as a litany of particularly filthy utterances escapes you, and Spencer’s hips stutter.

“Fuck, princess,” he groans, head coming to rest on your shoulder as he struggles to regain his rhythm. “You don’t even know what you do to me. You’ve ruined me for anyone else. Never fucking want to lose you. Love you so much.”

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” you chant into his ear, sounding like some kind of siren, luring him straight to his inevitable ruination. “I’m so close, Spence. Cum with me, please? I want to feel you. Please, baby.”

“Y-Yeah, fuck,” Spencer chokes out. “Say my name when you cum, princess. Want everyone to know how good I fuck you.”

And when you cum with a shout of his name, walls pulsating deliciously around his cock, Spencer is quick to join you. He continues to roll his hips against yours as you both ride it out, whispers of almost intelligible affirmations being shared between slow, loving kisses.

After a moment of post-orgasm bliss, Spencer leaves and returns with a bottle of cocoa butter lotion and a warm, wet rag. You watch on with heavy lidded eyes as he cleans you up, and for a moment, he thinks you’ve fallen asleep. It’s not until he finishes slathering your reddened backside with lotion that you speak again.

“You shouldn’t be jealous, by the way,” you murmur as he lays down beside you. “You’re it for me, Spencer Reid. I don’t ever want you to doubt that I’m anything less than crazy about you.”

It’s everything that Spencer’s ever wanted to hear, and just like that, every fear – every insecurity that had plagued him in the past several months – fell away to nothing. Suddenly, he couldn’t remember why he’d ever been worried in the first place.

“You’re it for me, too,” Spencer whispers as he pulls you until his arms and presses a soft kiss to the top of your head.

“We’re going to have a lot of explaining to do tomorrow, you know,” you remark as you nuzzle into Spencer’s side.

“Don’t care,” he sighs happily. “I’ll shout it from the roof tops if I have to. I want everyone to know you’re my girl.”

“You’re a sap, Doctor Reid.”

“Only for you.”

A moment of blissful silence passes, before the sound of your growling stomach sets you both into a fit of giggles.

“We never did get dinner, did we?” Spencer muses as he lightly runs his fingernails across your scalp. You hum appreciatively and a pleased shiver rolls through you.

“Nope. You were a little too preoccupied with marking your territory to even offer to feed me,” you tease as you run your fingertips down the planes of his chest.

“Well, now that that’s been taken care of - could I interest you in some takeout?”

“Possibly,” you sigh, flattening your palm on his chest, right over his heart. “Do you think that pizza place Trevor mentioned delivers?”

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that.”

“Is that a no?”

“... Look up the number.”

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#spencer reid smut #spencer x reader #spencer reid x you #criminal minds smut #spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfic #fanfic #dom!spencer #smut #spencer reid self insert #criminal minds self insert #spencer reid x y/n #matthew gray gubler smut #mgg smut #spencer reid x reader

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httpdabi · 3 years

Text

AmongUs

Summary: You decided to play AmongUs with your best friend and troll some randoms in there, what you didn’t really expect was to meet an extremely handsome stranger that has to offer you things your ex boyfriends never did.

Genre: smut, romance, No quirks looool

Word count: 7.5k

Warnings: 18+ (minors fuck off kindly), creampie, multiple orgasms, fingering, forced orgasm, daddy kink, dom!Dabi, orgasm denial, praising!

I had lots of fun writing this! Hope you enjoy it <3

,, Girl, you promised that you’ll come over tonight’’ you whined loudly over the phone, as your best friend Nejire told you that she won’t be able to make it, breaking your plans into tiny little pieces. Damn her childhood friend and his whole family deciding to come exactly today over, ruining your perfect evening with your best friend.

,, Yeah, but we can drink and play, doesn’t matter if we ain’t together, I’m sure he’ll like to play with us ‘’ you could almost feel her smile on the other line, and with only that you couldn’t even think about being mad at her, knowing very well how much she loves that guy. Probably in a way that no friends love each other.

,, Yeah, yeah. But girl, if you dich me tonight and let me troll people on my own, I’ll never forgive you’’ you smiled, knowing very well that she won’t do that. The two of you spend too much time playing stupid games together, drinking till you are comfortable enough to argue with strangers online, and troll the shit out of them.

Since it was weekend, and you were spending time on your own, you decided to start drinking a bit earlier. Turning on a movie, you started sipping on your wine, exchanging some texts with your best friend every now and then.

Your first glass was done way too fast, and you were already sitting in front of your computer with your forth glass beside the keyboard, and a cigarette in your right hand, texting a code to Nejire as you puffed on your cigarette.

The moment you saw one familiar and one not so familiar usernames getting into the private lobby , you smiled widely once Nejire started laughing loudly.

,, HAHAHA BITCH WHAT KIND OF NAME IS THAT’’ she screamed, as her lover boy giggled quietly beside her, probably too shy to say anything.

,, What is wrong with Kentuckycriedfricken?’’ you asked, as you slowly tapped with your fingers over the table. Well, you weren’t so creative tonight, but you could only blame alcohol on that.

,, Why the fuck are you called TURKEY_SANDWICH’’ you added another question, not giving her a chance to answer to your first one.

,,BECAUSE I’M CARVING ONE’’Nejire screamed, and in that moment you knew very well that she drank as much as you did, if not even more. You giggled to yourself, as you watched the room getting full, some people talking, some texting in the chat and some simply waiting.

You rolled your eyes in annoyance, once you saw all the people commenting START In the small chat box. There was something about it that was pissing you off, making you kick or ban anyone who writes it. This time, you were too busy laughing with your friend, and instead doing any of it, you simply started the game.

CREWMATE

You sighed in relief, taking a sip of your wine, as Nejire ran around you with her friend, singing loudly. Ignoring the two of them, you made your way to the Admin room, to swipe the card, not so surprised once you saw a crew of other players doing the same thing.

,,KENTUCKYCRIEDFRICKEN WHERE ARE YOU’’ you heard Nejire once she entered the room. Once she noticed the cyan color hiding in the crowd she hurried with her Pink character toward you.

,,Wanna watch me scan?’’ she asked, making you giggle as she just gave you the secret code, making sure you know that she’s the Impostor.

,,Nah, Imma pass’’ you said, getting out of the room. You were pretty sure she’ll win the game, since she had you and her friend on her damn side, but you did wish you could know who the other Impostor is. Ignoring her, you made your way toward the Weapons, to clear the damn Asteroids and just look for someone to play around with. These people were way too quiet for your taste.

,,Heyyyy what’s up man?’’ you almost screamed excitedly when you saw a dark blue character, hopefully a crewmate, standing there and clearing Asteroids, or you thought so. You forced your voice a pitch higher, giggling to yourself, knowing how stupid you sound.

,,Oh my god, how old are you?’’ the stranger asked. The moment you spoke, all the giggles were gone. That guys voice was so damn deep, you literally had to lit a cigarette before you decided to speak up again.

,,Old enough’’ you laughed, refusing to tell him your real age just now.

,,Older than 18?’’ he asked, as you were shooting those Asteroids, not that focused.

,, Of course’’ you gasped, rolling your eyes, like he might see you.

,, Thanks God.. Do you play Amongus often ?’’ he asked, not even knowing that his fucking voice was doing things to you.

,, Amongus is my favoire game’’ you said, finishing your task. The way he talked to you, you were almost sure that he was trying to troll you a bit there, probably thinking you are one of those uwu pick me girls.

,,Mhmm.. you’re up pretty late.. what’s your bed time?’’ he asked, and with that question you were more than sure that he was messing around.

,, Daddy beats me if I don’t go to bed at 9’’ you tried to hold your laugh, and you could almost hear the stranger doing the same thing you do.

,, Ohh, I could be your daddy and I would never do that to you ‘’ he said. In that moment, if it wasn’t for his voice, you would probably just laugh loudly and just go away. But damn, the way he said that.

,,HAHHAHA YOU CRAZY FUCK’’ You choked out, once you got out of your little dream, liking how he played along.

,, So that’s your real voice’’ he mumbled, small muffed laugh following the sentence, as you ran away from him. You didn’t hear a voice like that for a long time, and you really hoped that the dude will follow you around for the rest of the game.

Which at your surprise happened.

You were about to ask him some stupid question, but in that very moment someone found a fucking body.

,,Pink killed white and just jumped into the vent in front of me’’ some dude accused Nejire, and that’s when you knew that you have to jump in.

,, I saw Pink scan tho, so that makes you pretty sus dude’’ you lied without thinking twice. Yeah, you knew that it’s more fun if you play by the rules, and don’t team up.. but Nejire is rarely the Impostor and she’s always so damn excited when she wins.

,, Yeah, that’s Pretty sus… ‘’ your new friend said, probably believing you, since you two spent some short time together.

At the end of the short meeting, White was voted out.

You made your way to Reactor to do your task, and Nejire and her friend followed you, probably to look a bit clear to others. You hated the task you had to do, so you took your time, ignoring the loud laughs coming from your friend.

Shortly, the voice of Nejire was changed with the deep one.

,, So, what do you do usually?’’ he asked, as you tried to start the reactor. You had trouble with that task without being tipsy, so alcohol wasn’t really helping in your current situation.

,, I’m streets salesman of burgers’’ you joked, making him laugh a bit. Only to end up telling him that you are actually a student, having a mini job at the café near where you live. You weren’t even sure if his voice was making you speak up or the alcohol, but you almost found yourself telling him the story of your life.

,, Where are you going?’’ he asked you, as you made your way toward Electrical, stopping once the lights got off. You didn’t want to look sus to him, but you didn’t want to go there, since everyone knows that the first person that enters the room will end up dead.

,,Well, I wanted to go to electrical, to do my task, but not so sure about it anymore’’ you said honestly, running around him.

,, Come on, I’ll keep you safe’’ he laughed, and you followed him. The moment you were about to do your task, the game finished, showing how the Impostors won.

You heart almost skipped a beat when you saw In the chat box how your dark blue feiend was the second Impostor. You found it extremely cute that he had way too many chances to kill you and he never did. Instead of killing you, he was simply chatting with you.

CREWMATE

Usually you were the one to hate playing as impostor, always feeling the pressure and thinking that you’ll ruin the game for the other impostor, but tipsy like that, you wished you could be one now, and kill some crewmates around.

,, Doll, teaming ain’t nice’’ deep voice told you as you were downloading the data in the Cafeteria.

,, Awh, come on, she needs a bit of support’’ you said, focused on his voice more than on your task. ,,After all you just used me to clear yourself and look less sus’’ you added and he sighed loudly, acting shocked that you could even think of him like that.

You thought that the little play with the stranger will be just one time ‘’experience’’, but at your surprise he asked you for your instagram at the end. Usually you aren’t the one to share your personal information’s with others, and you also weren’t sure what you’re getting into, yet you found yourself giving him your username before you turned the computer off and drifted into a deep sleep.

Once you woke up, your phone was blown up with notifications, every single one from instagram. One text message and the rest of it were likes.

[Touyaf]:

,,Well, didn’t expect you to be this pretty.. super glad I met you there ’’

You smiled to yourself as you read the little message, with one of your post attached to it. Tapping on his username, your eyes almost widened in shock once you realized that not only his fucking voice was attractive. The dude was a motherfucking snack, and you had a pretty big luck that you found him in that silly lobby.

To Touyaf:

,, Heyy, you ain’t looking bad either lol same, let’s play together again ‘’

You replied, before you returned to his profile to like some photos he posted. Being honest, you didn’t know what to expect, but what you didn’t expect was a black haired guy, with piercings and tattoos covering his body. He definitely didn’t look like someone who spends his time on computer playing fucking Among us.

Hopping out of your bed, you made your way to get ready for the day. There were many things you planned to do, so you didn’t really want to waste your time. The faster you’re done, the more time you’ll have at the end.

After you packed all the post you had to send for your work, you headed to the bus station, hoping you’ll be able to catch the next bus. At your surprise Dabi was replying to your messages way too fast, making it one of the conversations where your eyes simply have to stay glued to your phone.

You found it almost funny how you ended up checking up your phone more often than usual, for someone you didn’t even meet yet. Sure, his profile looks legit, but the possibility that some attention thirsty freak is hiding behind that profile will be there till you meet him personally.

Once you finished everything up, you made your way toward the little Game shop, the one you were a well known costumer in. The now not so new Crash Bandicoot game that got out months ago was finally on the sale. You wanted to buy it the same day it got out, but $75 was too much, and it’s not like you’re shitting money.

The moment you bought the game, you wished you could fucking teleport yourself home, but sadly, you still had stuff to do and the game had to wait.

Your steps felt heavy, as you pushed yourself in the crowd, trying to keep your balance. Someone’s shoulder almost knocked you out, making your blood boil in just a damn second. Turning your head to the side, more than ready to fight, a smile crept on your face once you realized who you’re facing.

,, OH MY fucking god ‘’ you gasped, pointing every word out.

,, Woww, you’re alive’’ your cousin laughed, once she realized that you were ready to throw some hands. You really wanted to go home, but since ALL OF SUDDEN, both you and your cousin had some time, she forced you to go grab a coffee with her.

The two of you wanted to meet for a long time, but yet none of you could manage to get some free time and meet.

,, Yeah, Kai went to that Music program. The whole town was voting for him, didn’t you know that?’’ she said, talking about your childhood friend that always wanted to become famous.

,, Wow, strong community ‘’ you joked, acting surprised. Even tho he was your friend, you had to be honest. He couldn’t sing for shit.

The two of you ended up spending much more time than you planned to, and you ended up not minding it at all. You actually enjoyed talking about random shit form the last with her.

,, Wow, I didn’t think Bonnie is still alive. That dog could sense us from far away, so weird’’ your cousin said, sipping on her now cold coffee. ,, You think she would still smell or sense me if I would be on my way to your parents house ?’’ she added, eyes almost twinkling excitedly.

,, She can definitely smell your stinky ass’’ you joked, playing with the metal straw in your drink.

,, Oh eat shit, I’m sweating so much that I’m showering two times a day’’ she protested, slapping your arm playfully.

,,And even that ain’t helping’’ you laughed loudly once you saw her disgusted face.

The two of you finally parted ways, once you told her that you have some other important plans, deciding its better not to tell her that you’re dying to go home and play the game you bought.

You almost teared up once you were finally in your pajamas, laying comfortably on your couch and playing the game. You almost teared up, when you chose the retro function of the game, where you can get and loose life, thinking you’re the old school gamer. Oh, how fast you changed it once you realized how hard the game is.

After playing the game for two hours, you realized that you definitely won’t be able to finish it in one night. You were glad that the production was aiming for the old public, but you didn’t expect it to be that hard.

[Touyaf]:

,,The game is dope as fuckkkk, but too easy imo’’

You smiled when you saw that he replied to the picture you posted on the story.

To Touyaf:

,, Are you insane ? I’m on the same level thirty fucking minutes now :( ‘’

You replied, as you continued with the game, only to pause it after one minute of gameplay just to check your phone when you saw the instagram notification.

[Touyaf]:

,, Want me to help you?’’

To Toyuaf:

,, How ?’’

[Touyaf]:

,, Send me your address ‘’

Your eyes widened when you saw what he wrote, too scared to open the message he sent you. Of course you wanted to meet him, but so fast ? And at this time ?

Was that really smart ?

Well, it doesn’t matter if it’s smart or not, you ended up sending him your address, last name and running around in the middle of the night and cleaning your apartment anyway. You found yourself smiling the whole time while hysterically cleaning around. You didn’t know if he is living near or far, yet there was so much to do. It was very visible that you weren’t expecting any guests.

Luckily for you, it took him some time to arrive, giving you a chance to clear everything nicely and throw your clothes that were laying around into the closet.

The moment you heard the doorbell you got nervous like a little teenage girl that was about to go on her first date and the moment you opened the door, you were more than sure that you made the right decision when you sent him your address.

Was is possible that someone could be that handsome ? At one point you thought that he was just photogenic when you scrolled his Insta feed, you thought maybe he knew his angles. But damn, the dude standing in front of you was someone you would spread your legs for without thinking twice.

,,Hey, nice to finally meet you’’ he said, giving you a small hug which you definitely didn’t expect. ,, You look even prettier than on photos’’ he added, smiling at you.

,, You think? Thank you. You too’’ you said awkwardly. Usually you are much more confident, and you don’t have problem with communication, but the fact that this handsome dude you barely know, is in your apartment, made your legs shake.

,, I mean, you are really handsome’’ you added fast, trying to break that creepiness in your voice, giving yourself a mental facepalm once you realized that he was holding back his laugh. You almost looked like fucking Bella from Twilight. Was that necessary ?

,, What do you want to drink? Tea ? Coffee? Orange juice ? Wine ?’’ you asked, preparing the glass. He probably noticed how nervous you are and that made you even more nervous. Everything that could go wrong, is going wrong right now.

,, Well, I’m really up for some wine’’ Touya said as he sat comfortably on your couch.

THANKS GOD. You weren’t sure if you would be able to survive being in the same room with him while drinking a fucking chamomile tea.

,, You can’t beat this level? This one ?You can’t be for real’’ he laughed, as you placed two glasses and one bottle of wine on the table.

,, Are you dissing my gaming skills ?’’ you laughed, pouring the wine in the glass while he was playing the game like it was nothing.

,, Ah please, how many times did you paly it ?’’ you whined loudly, as he played almost perfectly.

,, Oh thanks God, you are a smoker, I was already stressing myself out if I’ll have to go out for every cigarette’’ Touya said once he saw you lit a cigarette.

After your second glass of wine, all the nervousness was gone. The two of you were having pretty much a fun time playing the game and drinking together.

,, What are you doing ???’’ he asked, almost screaming once you died in the game, without getting to the checkpoint.

,, MY BEST, I’M DOING MY BEST’’ You screamed back, throwing the controller to his direction, one again feeling defeated.

After that night, Touya started visiting you more often, and every night he would visit you, the two of you would drown a bottle of wine. You didn’t expect him to be such a cool person actually. In your opinion he did look like someone who’s full of himself.

Also, when you told Nejire that you met the dude from Among us, she immediately started lecturing you about how he could have killed you, totally ignoring the fact that you were standing in front of her alive and more healthy than you ever were.

,, Anyway, they have one appointment free today ‘’ Nejire said, as the two of you walked down the street, going to your usual café.

,, What are you talking about ?’’ you asked confused.

,, About escape room you stupid bitch’’ she said, hitting your arm lightly like she was talking about it clearly before.

,, Nejire, if the two of us go, one hour won’t be enough for us to get out of it’’ you pointed, knowing very well that neither of you is capable of figuring anything out on your own, especially not some scary ass escape room.

,, Ye, but I can ask Mirio to come, and you can ask the Dabi dude’’ she said, rising her eyebrows at you. Well that wasn’t a really bad idea actually.

Both Mirio and Dabi agreed, and while sipping on your coffee the two of you reserved the room. It was pretty much unplanned, and you had around 2 hours until your appointment, but you were really glad it worked out.

,, Girl, you should see my little sister today, girlie is only 3 years old, and she already flirts better than you and me together’’ Nejire giggled, as you gave her one questioning look.

,, She met some boy at playground today. You should see the looks they were giving each other. They even started talking in their baby language, discussing something’’ she said, making you laugh as you imagined her baby sister hitting on some other kid. You were never a person that could deal with kids, but her sister was really special.

Once the Mirio arrived, Nejire got all quiet, which almost made you laugh out loud, since she’s nothing like that usually. She did tell you before, that the two of them hooked up after one of the birthday parties you attended, but you almost forget about that.

,, What can I get you?’’ the waiter asked Mirio, as you and Nejire talked excitedly about escaperoom.

,, One Matte Lacchiato’’ Mirio said, trying to follow what you were talking about, while the waiter was looking at him confused, not sure if he’s joking or not.

,, You mean Latte macchiato ??’’ Nejire asked, trying to hold her laugh. The moment the waiter left, none of you had to hold it back anymore.

,, Dude, Matte Lacchiato ? Really?’’ you laughed loudly.

,, Fuck off, I’m not a coffee person’’ Mirio snapped, his face all red from embarrassment.

,, One Paccuccino please’’ you joked, making Mirio roll his eyes.

,, One Sepresso please’’ Nejire laughed loudly , while Mirio was mumbling something under his breath, hating the both of you in the moment.

,,By the way, I don’t like this thing, tastes like nothing’’ he said, as giving it to Nejire to try it out.

,, Out of 1 to 10, how many points would you give to this Matte Lacchiato?’’ Nejire asked, giggling, giving him a sign that she’ll never forget the silly mistake he said.

,,2 points. One for having balls to sell it, and another one because I’m such a good hearted person’’ he said, pushing the drink to the side.

The moment you saw Touya enter the café, you started waving around with your hands, helping him find you.

,, What took you so long ?’’ you asked, as he took a seat next to you. He looked good as usual, wearing oversized purple shirt, and black pants with nike airforce.

,, I was in the middle of a jog when you texted me’’ he said putting his both hands in the air, feeling attakced.

,, Oh that sounds fun’’ you joked, as you rolled your cigarette.

,, Yeah? I’ll call you next time to come with’’ he said, also rolling a cigarette, while giving you a side look.

,, Not that fun’’ you laughed.

,, dude, the last time we jogged together, she had to call a taxi to bring her back home’’ Mirio said, making Touya laugh.

,, Trueeee, I had to pour water all over her face when we were jogging together’’ Nejire added, remembering the accident that happened back in the days.

,,Oh shut up, I had to put your fucking legs up hoping you wont collapse’’ you laughed. Sure, both Mirio and Touya were in better shape than you, but Nejire ? Girl was on the same level.

,, And stop it, stop dissing me! I’m a victim of a hate crime right now” you whined loudly, as all of them laughed.

When the time came, all of you made your way to the escaperoom. After you checked in and paid, you and Touya went out to smoke one more cigarette since you had some time before the game starts.

,, So, what will you do after this ?’’ Touya asked, placing his arm around you as you puffed on your cigarette.

,, I don’t have any plans yet, why ? Wanna come over ?’’ you asked, mentally holding your shit together once he said that he’ll gladly come.

He was too close, wayyyy too close. You could even smell his fucking perfume.

Once the game started all of you were more than lost, having hard time finding the clues. You were in some basement looking room with tons of books. Touya and you found the first clue, some numbers written on the small closet as a code for opening the box that Mirio found.

Mirio found the second code, that led you to the box with the key that was opening the door.

,, Oh my god guys, there are number on the closet’’ Nejire screamed loudly, making all of you laugh.

,, Sweetie we passed that part long time ago.’’ Mirio said pinching her cheek. You were pretty sure that she was a bit lost, because Mirio was giving her way too much attention.

The next room was even darker than the first one, full of some weird family photos, crosses and blood. All of you were trying to work together, you agreed to use the Woky toky only when needed, yet the person who held it didn’t really give a shit about your agreement.

,, We need help’’ Mirio said, while the rest of you whined loudly since it was probably the third time he’s using it by now.

,, Dude, do you like the worker here ?’’ you asked him, as you took the photo of the wall.

,, No, why?’’ he asked you back, almost confused.

,, Because you are constantly talking to him. I swear you didn’t even talk to your ex that much ‘’ you said, making Touya laugh a bit.

The game continued with all of you in a rush to figure things out. One clue led to another one, and you opened some small room, where someone had to go inside to pull some weird looking rope.

Luckily for all of you, Mirio volunteered. The moment he pulled the rope down, some weird as cockroaches fall down on him, making him get out of the small room faster then he got in there.

,, Fucking shit, I didn’t sign for this’’ he whined, sighing in relief once he realized that those cockroaches are plastic one.

,, I swear, if that shit fell onto me, I would smash the red button without thinking twice’’ Nejire said in disgust.

,, This game is hard as fuck’’ you sighed, as you held some weird box with some knifes in your hand.

,, Wanna know what else is hard ?’’ Touya said quietly, making your eyes widen in shock.

,, Excuse me?’’ you couldn’t believe what he was asking you, here in front of your friends.

,, This cross. Oh my god, didn’t expect you to be that dirty minded doll’’ Touya laughed loudly, making you blush. In your Defense, he sounded like he was talking about his dick. He definitely didSl.

At the end, the 4 of you made it out of the room few minutes before the game ended. The moment you opened the door, you found the worker that explained the game and led you to the room standing in front of the very same door. Probably ready to get you all out.

,, This was so embarrassing ‘’ Nejire laughed as all of you got out of the building.

,, Yeah, imagine if we didn’t figure it out, what would he tell us ? Sorry but yall have to die now’’ Mirio said.

,, Well, maybe if you used the time we had for figuring everything out, instead of talking with the dude over the Wokytoky, MAYBE we would do better’’ you laughed, as Mirio told you to fuck off.

After Mirio and Nejire left, you and Touya made your way to your apartment, still talking and laughing about the whole game.

The two of you played among us, teaming up against some randoms on a whole new level. He was sitting way too close to you, like there was no place on the couch at all. Of course, you didn’t mind that, but you would lie if you said that you could focus on the game fully.

,, You are so cute’’ Touya pointed when you killed someone in front of him, not even hiding the fact that you are teaming.

He was complimenting you and being touchy with you more then usual.

,, So, are you really into daddy kink?’’ you asked, as you remembered the first time you played together.

,,Maybe ‘’ Touya smirked, focused on the game.

,, Naughty naughtyyy’’ you laughed, killing some other crewmate.

Once you had enough of the game, the two of you ended up just chit chatting about some stupid things, still in the same position as you were in before. The only difference was that Touya was slowly caressing your skin.

,, You wanna sleep over ?’’ you asked, once you realized that it was getting really late.

,, Well, definitely not if I have to crash on this couch’’ he said, making you giggle quietly.

,, Ah, you know I wouldn’t let you sleep here.’’ You mumbled quietly, avoiding eye contact with him.

,, Awhh, is my little doll implying that I can share her bed with her ?’’ Dabi teased. His arm was wrapped around you, rubbing small circles on your right hip gently.

,, Maybe ?’’ you said, trying to focus on anything else than his hand playing around.

,, Anyway, doll, I want to ask you something’’ he muttered, stopping his movements suddenly. You changing your position to have a better look of him, was your answer to go on.

,, Do play a lot with other people online?’’ he asked. You blinked slowly, not sure if that’s really a question he wanted to spit out. It seemed like it would be something more important.

,, Uh, I’m usually playing with Nejire. Why ?’’ you replied, confusion written all over your face. At your surprise, Dabi wrapped his arms around you, forcing you onto his lap like you were a small and weightless playtoy.

,, You know, I don’t like sharing what’s mine. ‘’ he expressed, placing his both hands on your tights, moving them up and down slowly.

,, Yours ?’’ you weren’t sure what was going on, and you definitely didn’t expect that silly question to go this way.

,, Doll, you’ve been mine the moment you sent me your address. What I meant was, you’ve met me so easily, I sure hope you ain’t like that with everyone on the internet.’’ His voice was somehow even more deeper than usual, and maybe it’s weird, but the position you were in was lowkey turning you on.

Maybe the fact that his behavior changed so fast, maybe the fact that he wanted you all for himself .

,, Honesty, I never share my personal information online, since you never know who’s hiding on the other side, but there was something about you. I just wanted to stay in contact with you’’ you responded, playing with your fingers like a lost child.

Instead of replying, he placed his hands on your cheek, pulling you slowly into a kiss, which you accepted gladly. It was the first time you felt such huge attraction for someone, and you were more than happy to give him anything he wants.

Maybe it’s weird to feel such a thing for someone you didn’t know that well, but everyone starts somewhere, right ?

His hands were going up and down your waist, lips never leaving your own. The moment you put your arms up, helping him remove the shirt you were wearing, you felt him smirk into the kiss. Once your shirt was off, he leaned back into the couch, having a better view of you, half naked sitting in his lap.

His right hand was playing with the strap of your bra, and the other one was holding you on his lap firmly. To him, you were the most beautiful little thing that he placed his eyes on, and he was more than grateful that you didn’t freak out because of his small confession.

You couldn’t wait anymore. Bending over, you connected your lips with his own again. His hands moved to your ass, giving it one good squeeze, before he got a firmer grip of you, pushing you up with himself and making his way to your bedroom.

Once he placed you on your bed, he took his shirt of, throwing it somewhere on the floor, as he climbed on top of you. All you could do was close your eyes and moan quietly once you felt his lips on your neck, sucking and biting it gently.

His lips were moving down, from your neck to your chest. From your chest to your stomach, leaving wet love bites on his way down.

Once he got so low, that he was almost between your legs, he unbuttoned your pants slowly, pulling your panties just a little bit down to leave kisses down there.

After few kisses, he gave you a sign to push your hips up a bit, and you did so. The moment you did it, Touya pulled your pants, together with your underwear down, leaving you in nothing else than your bra.

,, Take of your bra’’ he commanded, as he got lost between your legs. You wanted to do it, you really did, but once you felt his tongue on your pussy, you weren’t capable to even think straight, yet to remove your bra.

He was sucking and biting your clit, like no one ever before, making you throw your head back into your pillow as you enjoyed what he was giving you. You cradled your hands into his hair, as you felt thousand things at the same time. You’ve never desired someone so much, and the fact that the person you desired like no one else in your whole life was between your legs eating you out, was driving you crazy on a whole new level.

Dabi felt the same, it was the very first time he felt pleasure while he ate someone out, he was craving you like a mad man.

His tongue was doing wonders to you, and the moment you felt his finger slowly enter you, you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to get control over yourself.

,, Gotta loosen up my doll a little bit’’ he mumbled, savoring your pussy. The way he ate you out was getting sloppier and sloppier. Once he added another finger, your grip on is hair got stronger, giving him a sign that it hurts a bit.

,, Baby, how will you take my dick if you ain’t capable of taking ony two fingers ?’’ he looked up, smirking at you. Once you gave him a weak nod, he started moving his fingers in and out of you, slowly, giving you time to adjust.

Once he heard you moan, he started moving his fingers a little faster, as he started to rub your clit with his other hand.

,,Oh god’’ you moaned loudly, as pleasure took all over your body. Your orgasm hit you pretty unexpectedly, making you hide your face with your hands in embarrassment. You never came so quickly.

He definitely knows what’s he doing. None of your ex boyfriends made you cum so fast. All they did was simply missionary sex, with no talk at all. Few humps and done.

,, Open your mouth’’ Touya commanded, not giving you a chance to understand what was going on and why he wanted you to open your mouth for him. You felt two wet and sticky fingers rub your lips. You couldn’t even open your mouth fully, as he already shoved his two fingers in it.

,, Suck’’ grabbing your hands with his own and pushing them down, he had to see you, even tho he knew very well how embarrassed you felt in that moment.

Of course you did as he told you, as he held your chin, forcing you to look right at him as you cleaned his fingers that just pleasured you.

,, Such a good girl’’ Touya said, caressing your cheek gently, before he pulled his fingers out of your mouth, trying to free his throbbing dick out of the pants.

,, Didn’t I tell you to take your bra off ?’’ he asked, smirk forming on his lips. ,, Oh, so you don’t like to follow daddys orders ?’’ he added, climbing on top of you.

,, I ..’’ you didn’t even know what you wanted to say, you honestly forgot that you even had your bra on. Instead of saying anything, Touya only laughed, flipping you on your stomach, as he unclipped your bra in one movement.

,, I really wanted to be gentle with you, but if you are not capable in following small orders what will happen later with the big ones?’’ he asked, kissing the back of your neck slowly. You weren’t sure what to say, for you, that wasn’t a big deal, and honestly you didn’t know much about daddy kink.

,, Sorry daddy’’ you said, closing your eyes. It felt weird to call him daddy, but now that you knew that he likes it, you did it anyway.

,, Sorry doesn’t help doll. Daddy has to fuck you into obedience’’ he said, pulling the lower part of your body up. He took a good look of you, before he started rubbing the tip of his dick around your core. The view of you, with your ass up made his dick twitch, and he couldn’t wait anymore.

He shoved his dick into you with one move, forcing your body to move away from him out of the reflex. But Touya wasn’t buying that, grabbing a fistful of your hair and yanking you back.

,, You good?’’ He asked. You could hear concern in his voice, and you found it really cute how he suddenly changed.

,, Yes, that was hot ‘’ you said embarrassed, glad he was not facing you.

,, Good, because I ain’t stopping’’ with that, he started rocking his hips into you, as he pulled your head back, hand still holding your hair keeping you in the place he wanted you to be in.

So much about the concern.

,, So fucking tight’’ he groaned, as he fucked fast and hard into you, making your bed crack with every move. You found yourself moaning louder then before, it felt like he was forcing every moan out of you with every snap of his hips against your own.

The moment you felt his fingers on your clit, your walls squeezed around him. Once again embarrassed that you are so close, so fast.

,, Oh nah, you ain’t gonna cum yet’’ he whispered in your ear, leaving your clit and grabbing your hips with his both hands.

,, Ehhh pleaseeee, please daddy’’ you moaned, pushing the embarrassment away.

,, Baby, If you cum now, I’ll make sure you cum at least two more times before I finish you want it or not’’ he said, stopping his movements. Usually, when you had sex you were lucky if you could orgasm even once, since the guys only thought about themselves. You weren’t really sure if you could do it for him. You weren’t sure if you were capable to do it at all.

,, I’ll take that as yes’’ Touya laughed, moving his hips suddenly, his hand back on your clit and rubbing it so fast that he literally forced the orgasm he stopped few moments ago.

You moaned loudly, losing the power in your body. If Touya wasn’t holding you, you would definitely just fall down. He moved his hips slowly, making sure your orgasm lasts long enough for you to see the stars.

Once he was sure you are done, he flipped you over onto your back, spreading your legs with his hands, as he gave you one passionate kiss. You were too focused on the kiss, not realizing that he entered you again, only to realized it once he started moving again.

He was fucking you like there was no tomorrow, not breaking the kiss at all. You could feel his dick hitting your cervix with every move. You found yourself wrapping your arms around him, trying to find some comfort while he fucked the light out of you.

,, Come on baby, cum for your daddy’’ he groaned, enjoying how tightly your walls were squeezing him in that moment.

,, I can’t, oh my god, I really can’t ‘’ you whined, digging your nails into his skin, as he once again started playing with your clit. You felt both pain and pleasure while played with it, forcing the third orgasm out of you.

,, Of course you can, look at you, such a good girl’’ This time he didn’t slow down, letting you enjoy it, instead he was fucking you even harder and faster then before, making the orgasm that hit you almost painful, but yet still good and pleasurable.

With every move he did, you dag your nails deeper into the flesh of his back, moaning loudly not giving a single fuck if your neighbors could hear you or not.

,, One more baby’’ Touya groaned, hitting your g spot all over again. ,, Only one more baby, you can do it ‘’ he added as he rocked his hips against yours. You were so fucking sensitive, that you literally felt every vein of his dick rubbing against your walls. Maybe you were imagining, but it felt like you could literally feel the shape of his whole dick inside you, every inch of it.

He was fucking you in a reckless pace, once again rubbing your clit, while telling you how you’re such a good girl for him and how you’re gonna milk his cock so nicely. Once Touya felt that he was close, once he realized that he won’t last much longer, he started rubbing your clit with more pressure, forcing himself even more into you then before.

,, Come on baby, cum all over my cock’’ he groaned, as you moaned loudly. The moment he forced your last orgasm out of you, he groaned loudly as he was chasing his own high, painting your walls white with his seed.

The moment he came, he slowed down, still not stopping his movements completely. Fucking his seed deep into you. Because of the fact that you came fucking four times, and that he shoot loads and loads of his own seed into you, you were almost sure that you were already leaking on your bed.

,, Are you okay?’’ Touya asked, placing soft kissed on your neck, while his dick was still inside of you. ,, Did I go too far ?’’ he added, once he realized that you aren’t answering.

,, Oh god no, this was amazing’’ you whispered, tilting your head to the side. Touya kissed you, not being able to hold his smile at all. After the kiss, he wore his boxers and made his way to your bedroom, only to come back moments later with a warm towel.

After he cleaned you up, he helped you wear your panties, giving you his shirt instead of your own, before the two of you fall asleep in each others arms.

In that moment, you felt grateful for existence of that silly game where you met this handsome stranger. Who would have thought that Amongus can be a better match maker than Tinder.

You sure didn’t.

#smut #dabi fanfic #dabi headcanons #dabi smut #dabi todoroki #dabi x oc #romance #bnha fanfiction #bnha imagines #bnha x reader #touya smut #dabi x reader #yandere dabi #touya todoroki #mha dabi #bnha dabi #touya x y/n #touya fanfic #dabi imagine

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justwritedreams · 2 years

Text

Rebel Renegade | Kai

mafia Kai x soldier reader

Word count: 4007 Genre: action, drama Author: maari Warnings: reader and kai try to kill each other, mentions of bad guys, guns, knive and fight, suggestive. Note: I wish I had focused on the action but with Kai it's practically impossible. It's way suggestive and shorter than I planned so sorry? Request: Hello ive never done req thingy before so bare with me here i go lmao 😭 can I request (if you can) write kai fic similar to sechan but make it soldier reader and criminal kai something abt him being an rogue soldier who works for the enemny of sort you can go crazy with it if you want thank you! 💛

Y/N felt her heart beating fast between her ribs as she walked quickly to the intelligence meeting room.

Hearing that the commander requested her presence at the super secret and important meeting didn't help.

She controlled the urge to rethink all the things that could have been considered wrong and focused on just placing her fingerprint on the entrance, waiting for the automatic door to open and reveal that the table was full of soldiers with ranks higher than her.

That made her swallow hard but move on, saluting and seeing her division commander nod and point to the empty chair to his left, she sat down after the others did.

“Y/N, you will go on a field mission outside the base.” he warned, causing her to stare at him in surprise.

"Sir." her tone was questioning but at the same time accepting.

It wasn't like she could say no.

“You will work undercover.” he explained and pointed to the projector ahead, she looked away and watched the slides. “We need to take down a mafia that has been secretly selling weapons to a separatist terrorist group.” pictures of the terrorists were shown and she memorized the faces that appeared. “The main mafia leader is called Kim Jongin, better known as Kai.”

Y/N had to control the sigh when the next photo was shown.

Not because the photo was of a military man, but because the man was attractive, even in a photo like this.

No soldier she knew had the feat of looking like a Vogue model in the official army photo.

"He's a deserter." another superior spoke and Y/N looked at him quickly, by the look of the man she knew he knew Kim. "Extremely skilled and deadly, knows all our best men."

Y/N looked back at the photo, this time as if she could unravel the man through the projector.

Defector meant traitor. Which made him dangerous.

“And why was I chosen, sir?” she looked at everyone at the table and waited for an answer, which came from her own commander.

“You're not known, Kim won't know who you are, let alone know your weaknesses. That's the most important."

Y/N held her gaze and felt a huge weight on her back.

She got the message. If given the chance, Jongin wouldn't hesitate to kill her like he probably did others.

But as the commander had said, he didn't know her. He didn't know how stubborn she was and if the mission had been entrusted to her, then it would be accomplished.

[...]

It took six months for Y/N to prepare for today.

She studied the case in depth, read everything she could about Jongin, and met people who could give more details about him. All she heard from people was "Jongin is dangerous, he's not the merciful type".

She clung to the old army file as if it were her new manual.

Kim was a member of the elite Marine Corps team, which meant he had extraordinary training, he was not only good with weapons but also melee combat as well as being a great tactician. He had nothing he couldn't do.

Decorated by the general himself, Kim left the army a few years later without a plausible reason, at least that was what was missing from the file.

This made Y/N go straight to the sources, but contrary to what she imagined, not even those who knew Kim talked about it. It felt like it was forbidden and she realized that something very serious had happened.

This was fragile and unexplored territory.

As for Kim himself, she watched him closely. Infiltrating a group of his clients, who agreed to cooperate before being sent to life in prison, she had inside information.

Where was he and with whom, where would he go next. She could tell it had become her new obsession.

However, none of this made her feel more relaxed about the mission.

Of course, she was glad to finally act off base, she was trusted by her superiors to do so. It was the opportunity she had longed for for so long.

Right, she was anxious at the idea of meeting him in person. He was the bad guy but it wasn't like she could ignore the fact that he looked like the personification of Adonis.

She was a soldier but not blind.

Y/N caught her breath on the way to the Aphrodite nightclub, Kim owned it and used it to go about his business without looking suspicious, it was like it was her first mission again. Heart racing, adrenaline taking over the veins and dry mouth.

She would pose as the new negotiator, was accompanied by security and the group's driver, no one but the owner knew she was undercover and would remain so until she gathered enough evidence to put Kim in jail as well as his associates.

Unlike the uniform she was so fond of, she wore a short red strapless dress and black sandals, the makeup marked her face well and had become her best friend in the last few months.

All to make it different from what she really was.

As soon as they entered, after security had authorized it, she felt the hot air and the smell of expensive liquor as lively music filled her ears. The nightclub was well decorated, in a chic style and exactly the way she'd heard.

It didn't take long for Kim to appear, striding through the entire club with a smug smile on his lips but that changed when he saw Y/N.

She almost laughed at his brow rising almost imperceptibly as if asking if she was the one he was waiting for, she just didn't because she felt a shiver run through her body at the sight of him staring at her so deeply.

“Mrs. Kang?” he asked softly and she took a deep breath, his voice was velvety and it had an effect elsewhere on her body.

"Miss." she corrected and held out her hand to him, who stared for seconds before taking it.

Y/N thought she was going to be able to shake and pull him towards her, in a sign that she was the one in control, but when she felt the warm and soft palm between hers, she realized that this would be much more difficult than she imagined.

Was contact with him supposed to burn like that? As if he was lighting a fire that had never awakened inside her?

"Please follow me." he spoke after clearing his throat and pointed in the direction.

Y/N nodded and walked beside him, sensing the security guards following. Kim walked up the floor and stopped in front of the dark door, turning to Y/N.

"If you don't mind, I don't like company." he nodded at the security and she agreed, turning her head just enough for the two of them to understand that they would be alone in the room.

Just imagining it, Y/N's stomach churned nonstop in sheer anxiety. She entered just as he made room for her to do so and heard the door slam loudly behind her, she swallowed hard before turning to face him.

A shiver ran through Y/N's entire body, Kim was a predator, eyes locked on her like she was prey. Strong as the tide.

"Forgive me, I didn't expect Yoongi's wife to be so beautiful." he spoke and headed for the large chair behind the office desk.

Y/N smiled widely as she followed him with her gaze.

"I'm not the wife, Mr Kim, I'm the niece." she didn't know how many times she had said it but that was how the story would have to go.

Y/N is the niece of Kang Yoongi, the buyer of Kim's weapons and also the leader of a separatist group in the north of the country. She was getting into the business so she could lead later, learning before anything happened to her uncle.

Anything, in case she arrested him after the deal was done.

Her body shouldn't have reacted to Kim's contented smile after listening to her.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, miss." spoke before sitting down, she did the same feeling her legs wobbly with the way he curled the word pleasure on his tongue.

Someone must have warned her that Kim was a complete sin.

“Why did you enter this world, if I may ask.” he seemed too interested.

But Y/N wanted to return the same question if she could.

“My uncle explained the situation, right?” he nodded in agreement. "The siege is closing, Mr Kim, I believe he will not be here to complete his purpose."

Even though lying and that theater being part of the mission, Y/N hated having to repeat that speech.

There was no point in being a terrorist in favor of bombing civilians and rebelling with something that only they believe is right.

"It's a shame but I can't deny that it will be much easier to have to deal with you." he smiled again and she raised her eyebrows. He didn't even disguise his flirtations. “Don't tell your uncle but he has a very… explosive temper. And please call me Jongin.”

She smirked and nodded as she felt Kim's eyes burn from so much fire, it was then that she realized that this mission was completely uncertain.

The main problem here was whether Kim would trap her in his darkest desires before she took him to jail.

[...]

The next hour was productive, Y/N got important information about the cargo and how the delivery would go. It would be the opportunity for Kim and all of Kang's cronies to be arrested.

Jongin continued to flirt with her blatantly and his intense gazes every time she glared at him were warming her body in a dangerous and good way. If he was mortal as a soldier, even fighting his ex-team, they should have warned her how much he was…well, hot.

Of so many guys Y/N knew, and she knew many since she lived in the army, none had the same effect as Jongin. He was like a black hole, pulling you with a supernatural force and you fell eternally in search of the end, which never came.

And maybe, she was enjoying this situation more than she should have.

She was undercover, it was part of the plan to gain Jongin's trust so it wouldn't hurt, right?

She could drink whiskey and go dancing at his club, all to make him trust her.

So when Jongin invited her to enjoy the club for the rest of the night, she didn't refuse.

“You’re excused, Mr Kim will take me home later.” she spoke to security who looked reluctant. She knew the order was that they didn't leave her side for even a second, but Jongin needed to see that she was willing to trust him to let the same feeling go through him. “I said you’re dismissed.” she repeated in a more serious tone and they nodded, walking away as quickly as possible.

"That was pretty sexy." she felt Jongin approach from behind and speak close to her ear, making her smile evilly.

"You didn’t see anything." she turned her face away and her nose brushed against his warm cheek.

It was a simple touch but it only heightened the sexual tension between them, all the more so because Jongin fixed his eyes on her mouth.

Wanting him to taste his own venom, Y/N made her way back downstairs as she looked behind her to make sure he followed her, and she wasn't wrong.

He led her to the bar with one hand resting on her waist, causing Y/N's entire body to shiver at the contact.

Okay, he wasn't even being discreet.

"What will you want?" he asked and she laughed in disbelief.

Discredited because she was there with him, admiring the beauty of the club's colorful lights being reflected in his perfect face.

“Whiskey. Double." she asked and saw that Jongin looked at her in surprise but smiled in response.

He ordered drinks and they sat at the bar to talk, this time anything other than business, he didn't take his hands off her waist and Y/N confessed that she had enjoyed that approach. She could smell his expensive perfume and the heat of his body up close.

They took the opportunity to dance, keep talking and drinking until the club was practically empty. Jongin wasn't subtle, he showed he wanted Y/N, it was clear when he almost kissed her in the center of the dance floor but Y/N was smart and walked away before that could happen.

A part of her didn't accept it, wanted her to give herself over to Jongin's full, pink lips that were extremely inviting. But she wanted to tease him, push him to the extreme until she finally had what she wanted.

She didn't know what time it was, she was sitting on one of the bar stools and had Jongin's suit between her shoulders waiting for him to come back from the office with the car keys, now with her body relaxed she felt tired. Acting like an undercover was tiring and only there, acting like her role had she noticed.

A wave of sadness washed over Y/N, if circumstances were different, Jongin would be the perfect man. The perfect match for her.

She liked intense men, who showed what they wanted not just with words but with actions. She had enjoyed that warm and sensual atmosphere that surrounded Jongin, she might even have fallen in love with him if he wasn't the bad guy.

As soon as she saw him approaching, she was left wondering what actually had done or happened to make him turn to the dark side. This was a question that had been with her for a long time, ever since the mission had been entrusted to her, but she didn't think so much about it when she saw that he didn't seem to have any remorse for funding terrorist groups. But after meeting him in person, hearing his almost childlike, husky laugh, seeing the kindness in his eyes, she wanted to understand what had happened.

It must have been something very serious because she knew he was a loyal man.

"Let's go?" he asked and she nodded, still dizzily thinking about the possibilities.

Jongin kept his hand at the base of her spine as they walked to the parking lot, she clung to the suit as the icy wind hit her body, that short dress was useless in keeping her warm.

So she was grateful when Jongin turned on the air in the car as soon as they got in, he smiled before starting the car and pulling out of the parking lot.

“Can I take you to my house?” he asked in a very subtle tone, the kind he hadn't done that night and Y/N nodded, feeling her palms sweat.

Well, he'd made it clear that he wanted to spend the night with her and Y/N needed to go on with the undercover role, right?

Along the way, Jongin placed his hand on Y/N's exposed thigh and stroked it so slowly that it made her feel a shiver through her spine until they stopped in front of the mansion.

She couldn't deny that she was anxious. It had been so long since she'd been with a man that she looked like an innocent teenager again, but she could tell that in a way it was something new because she'd never been with anyone like him.

Jongin helped her out of the car, being gentlemanly enough to open the door, and Y/N noticed that he purposely leaned their bodies together, smiling provocatively.

He let her in first and she quickly scanned the house, it was just the way that she had thought, she took off his suit and left it on the sofa, no longer feeling cold.

“How do you want to do it?” he asked as soon as he closed the door and she turned to look at him without understanding, until she realized he was pointing a gun. "Soldier."

Y/N felt all the blood in her body go cold, his gaze as sharp as a knife.

Shit. Holy crap.

It couldn't be.

"What did you say?" she forced her voice to come out steady as she held her breath.

Jongin was steady, his eyes were now shrewd and there was no denying it, he knew everything.

"Soldier." he practically spat out the word. "I'm not going to lie, the undercover agents are starting to get good at this." he moved the hand that carried the gun and the blood on Y/N's face fled, she felt her mouth go dry and her heart pound.

She chose the best answer, silence. She wouldn't give in until she had a chance to escape and she had.

“You were the closest, very good work, I have to admit. But your eyes don't lie.”

She clenched her jaw and took a good look at him, the posture, the way he held the gun with one hand and how she could get out of there after she'd knocked him out.

"I don’t know what you're talking about." she answered through gritted teeth and he laughed.

“I once had that look. Of hope, of certainty that you are doing the right thing.” Jongin's expression turned to pain. “Until I realized it wasn’t quite like that.”

“Until realized you were a traitor.” Y/N spoke angrily and saw that he cocked his head to the side, offended.

"You don't know me."

It was her turn to smile.

"You're right, and you don't know me either." she spoke and lifted her leg to kick the gun away, the movement caught Jongin off guard and he dropped the gun on impact.

Jongin took a step and attacked her, arms tight and outstretched, he almost landed a punch but she deftly dodged it but he didn't stop.

He kept taking steps forward, forcing Y/N to walk backwards as she blocked the attacks, now she was grateful that she had studied Jongin's fighting profile beforehand. He was fast and steady but Y/N had the advantage of being smaller than he, which made it easier to duck when fists came her way.

But that was tiring her too fast, so she decided to attack instead of just defending herself, she took a random vase and threw it towards him that he defended with his arm, the glass shattered on the floor as he let out an angry grunt.

Y/N took out the knife hidden in the holster on her thigh and was close to hitting it when Jongin grabbed her wrist, forcing it to stay in place, she ended up hitting her back on the table already in the other room and Jongin tried to force the knife to hit her neck, just inches from her skin.

She ignored the fact that his body was glued to hers, this wasn’t the time to be excited by the closeness when he was trying to kill her.

Y/N used all the strength she had to keep this from happening and when she saw that he was going to use all his body weight, she dodged it and the switchblade got stuck between the table. With no choice, she decided to use a low blow, literally.

She kicked Jongin's private parts, causing him to groan in pain and fall to the floor. She leaned against the table, practically sitting on top of it, and caught her lost breath as she watched him squirm.

“Is that the best you can do?” he asked, struggling to get the words out.

"I'm not the one crying." she teased and saw him get to his feet, still staggering.

He took a deep breath and looked at her, they both remained that way, just exchanging glances.

"Whatever your plan, believe me, it won't work."

Y/N laughed sarcastically.

"Anytime I want, you'll end up in jail." she raised an eyebrow and saw Jongin looking her up and down.

She noticed when his gaze strayed between her legs and it was only then that she noticed that her legs were open, totally out of the way she should feel, her cheeks burned and she closed them instantly.

She stood still as Jongin approached slowly, hands still on his private parts, she reached for the knife on the table and Jongin's hand did the same, holding her where she was, stopping her.

He positioned himself between her legs, making her hug him with her thighs, Y/N felt a shiver when he took his hand from the place where she had hit it and placed it on her thigh.

The soft, warm palm held her there, and she just pulled her torso back to face him.

"If you weren't so attractive, I might kill you." he spoke softly, causing her heart to continue beating at a frantic pace, as if they hadn't stopped fighting.

In fact, the fight was still going on. Against their own desires.

"It's not what it looked like, you're rusty Kim." she spoke, seeing him raise his eyebrow. "But I don't think it's just in that department." she lowered her gaze to the place where she'd hit.

“You shouldn't have said that.” he warned.

Y/N didn't even have time to blink, Jongin brought the hand that was holding hers to the back of her waist while the one on her thigh went to the back of her neck, bringing her angrily up until their lips met quickly and thirsty.

She sighed as she felt the contact with his full lips as Jongin growled as if he were an animal, as he took her lips to himself with gusto.

The kiss was hot and uneven, there was so much desire there that they both didn't know what to do first, taste the whiskey or let their tongues meet. Jongin forced his torso forward so that Y/N lay on the table, he let go of her hand so that he could hold her by the waist tightly while she brought her hands up to his face, her thighs squeezed his hips even more and she felt something grow beyond the urge to surrender.

The adrenaline she felt when they were fighting turned to heat and the small dress she wore seemed to suffocate her, and she couldn't control the surprise or the moan that escaped when Jongin's lips left hers and went to her neck. She brought her hands up to his shoulder and squeezed hard as she felt his teeth drag along her skin.

She had barely caught her breath from the kiss and was already out of breath, having to squint her eyes even tighter as her breath hit her skin.

Another groan escaped her as she felt Jongin's fingers leave her waist and go to the end of her dress, suddenly it was as if her entire body was pure lava and the world was swirling around.

She didn't feel Jongin's lips anymore so she decided to open her eyes and found him looking so deep into her eyes, it was as if he was corrupting her soul.

“Jongin…” was the only thing that came out of her lips, his name.

"You can call me Kai." he lifted the fabric until it was bunched around her waist and his fingers played with the cloth that still covered her.

He smiled and pulled away enough to place a kiss on her inner thigh, Y/N bit her lip and a shiver went through her entire body, taking a certain heat to the place where Kai was so close she could feel his breath heavy of it.

"If you have the strength for it."

#exowritersnet #kai scenarios #kai imagine #kai x you #kai x reader #kim jongin #exo kai #jongin scenario #jongin imagine #jongin x reader #exo imagine #exo scenarios #exo mafia au #kai mafia au #jongin mafia au #Maari #request

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lillianastras · 3 years

Text

“Hit Me With Your Best Shot” -- The Darkling x Reader

Pairing: The Darkling x Reader (no surprise here)

Warnings: none, I think

Summary: The Darkling and his second spar in the morning, after he starts to doubt her abilities have worsened over time.

A/N: I feel so great that I actually used my own experience in martial arts for writing this. Also, I’m so empowered by all the great feedback I’m getting from you guys. If anyone has requests, please send those my way!

“Rule number one,” he says, “Only take a break after saying you need a break. Otherwise I won’t know and will wipe the ground with you.” Her eyebrows shoot up and he has to fight a smile, glad he caused the reaction. “Rule number two,” he continues, hands behind his back, his wrists wrapped in cloths, to numb the harshness of his blows. “No Small Science. Whatever you do to me, you do it with your own two hands.” “That was just plain filthy.”

This time Aleksander grits his teeth, not appreciating the interruption. She is standing in the middle of the training grounds, arms crossed in front of her chest, the same irritated expression on her face since she had woken up. He could tell she was looking around, looking for an opportunity, an excuse to leave. Yet, there is little chance that anyone else is up this early, except by the pair of guards by the gate.

“The Drüsskele attacks are getting more aggressive than ever,” he hisses , trying his best not to raise his voice at her. “You need to know how to defend yourself when they hold your hands apart.” It’s not happening again, he thinks. The years have passed, but even time didn’t manage to blur the memory of Luda bleeding out on the ground. “I know how to defend myself!” She hisses back, and the Darkling gives her a cold stare.

“Ivan said he managed to tackle you to the ground several times yesterday.”

Her lips curl in disdain, but not for Ivan, he knows. She likes the Heartrender probably as much as he does, which came as a surprise at the start. He is rude and harsh, but even he manages to crack the occasional smile to two in her presence. That’s just how she is.

No, he thinks, the grimace just proves the truth in his words. Her skills had deteriorated, and she needs to get herself together. For her own good.

“Ivan is bigger than me,” she mumbles, but her eyes are staring at the ground. Even she realises this is a poor excuse, if any excuse at all.

“They are always going to be bigger than you. And I might not be there to have your back at all times.” It might not matter, he thinks bitterly, and his hands ball into fists, even if I am.

“Alright.” The easy agreement comes as a surprise, although easy might be an understatement. She gave her best efforts to keep him in bed this morning with gentle caresses, suggestive whispers and kisses down his neck. But still, he had dragged her outside as quickly as he could and she was sour ever since. “Let’s see if you get to wipe the ground with me.” She adds and he knows he managed to annoy her.

She takes her battle stance, her guard up and the Darkling sighs, eyes turning to look around. The sun is starting to rise higher in the sky and he realises he has little time left, just because no, Aleksander, you cannot ruin my reputation by throwing me around in front of everyone. Soon, people would start waking up, ready to start the day and they would have to leave training for tomorrow, when he would have to bring himself to say no to her advances again and… No. They have to start today.

She raises her eyebrow at him, challenge barely veiled, and he takes a deep breath, letting the thrill of the upcoming fight wash over him.

His first punch is not that fast, he knows, and she manages to dodge it with ease. Her elbow slams in his chest in return and was most probably going do force the air from his lungs if he hadn’t tensed. He is forced a step back. When he looks at her, there’s a small cold smirk growing on her face. She isn’t that out of practise after all. The Darkling squints his eyes and starts to pay more attention.

This time she doesn’t wait for him to charge, and when she aims her foot for between his legs, he knows he had touched a nerve. He blocks the kick with his forearm, but he doesn’t bother stop the grin that is slowly stretching on his face. Quick as a cat, he closes the distance between them, taking a tight hold of her wrists, their faces so close she could head-butt him in the nose if she wanted to.

“Is that why you’re so irritable all morning,” he asks, letting out a quiet grunt when she stomps on his foot, but he doesn’t let go. “Because I wouldn’t sleep with you?” This time he manages to move his foot in time and she groans as she misses. “For real?”

“No,” she answers quickly, too quickly, and he grins even wider, because her reaction is so petty, that he can’t really help himself. “You’re putting way too much faith in your ability to —”

He doesn’t let her finish and puts his foot behind hers, giving her a harsh push. She looses her balance and falls ass first on the muddy ground, shock written on her beautiful face.

He grins down at her, reaching out a hand to help her up. She finally comes back to her senses and looks around, her pants and shirt far from clean, mud covering her hands. She grits her teeth and whispers something under her breath, and Aleksander recognises Ivan’s name, followed by a string of curses. She then glares up at him and stands up on her own, ignoring his open hand.

“Again,” she demands, squinting her eyes against the reddish strays of the morning sun. The Darkling attacks again, this time not holding back as much as the first time.

He doesn’t realise how much time passes, punches delivered and blocked from both of them, until they are both panting messes, sweat dripping from their foreheads and sticking strands of hair to their skin. Aleksander allowed himself a moment of distraction, glancing around the training grounds. The palace was slowly coming back to life, voices heard from inside and the occasional kefta-clad figure running around the place.

“Scared someone will see that you’re getting your ass kicked?” Her guard is up and he can’t see the shit-eating grin that is plastered on her face, but he can practically hear it. It’s amazing what an hour of good sparring can do for one’s mood.

“You wish,” he calls back. “Final round?”

“I thought you’ll never ask.”

A smile creeps its way on the Darkling’s face. He takes slow, careful steps to the side, circling her, and her eyes follow him, not even blinking. Yet she is too focused on his movements that she doesn’t notice him close the distance at all. Just like he intends.

She is so surprised by the sudden attack, that she barely fights back when he grabs her wrist and gives her a harsh tug. He bends it behind her back in a swift motion, enough to trap it between his body and hers.

His free hand goes straight for her throat, fully pressing her back against him.

She tries to wriggle out of his grasp, but he presses her forearm slightly upwards and she hisses in pain, giving the hand that is wrapped around her throat a few quick taps, to let him know she surrenders. He stops the pressure on her arm, but doesn’t let go just yet. He leans in, his breath tickling her ear. “Not too bad,” he whispers, and he has to remind himself that they are out in public, “but you still have much to learn.”

She finally releases her, and grins when she turns around and her eyes are a little hazy. She takes a deep breath and when her gaze finds his, she shakes her head at his smirk, her hand rubbing her wrist to dissolve any pain.

“Careful General,” she lowers her voice to a whisper and theatrically looks around, as if to make sure no one is listening. “Someone might actually see you smile.” She sighs. “Can we call this a draw?”

He outright laughs at her audacity. “A draw? You didn’t win even one round!”

“I disagree.” She shakes her head and gives him a cocky raise of her eyebrow and a wave of her hand.“Plus that last one was hardly fair.”

His gaze hardens. Even though the last round really was more playful than aggressive, he had managed to disarm her and have the upper hand after all. If it wasn’t his hand around her throat, she’d be dead. She needed the practice.

As though she reads his mind, she rolls her eyes. “I won’t admit that you were right.”

He snorts a humourless laugh. He doesn’t really expect her to. “But we continue tomorrow.” It’s neither a request, nor a question. It’s an order from a General to his warrior.

She sighs and he knows she’s about to murmur some complaint. Shockingly, gives in with a shake of her head and after a long observation of her clothes, ruined from the mud, she mutters a quiet. “You’re the boss.”

He grins. “I’m the boss.”

#shadow and bone #sab #shadow and bone fanfiction #the darkling #the darkling x reader #the darkling imagine #aleksander morovoza #aleksander morozova x reader #general kirigan #general kirigan x reader #six of crows #six of crows fanfic #soc #ben barnes #ben barnes imagine #ben barnes fanfiction

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prettylittleheartfilia · 3 years

Text

The Usual

Neither of them knew how they ended up in this situation. One moment she was yelling at him for sneaking into her house, as usual. Then they began sparring, as usual. And now they found themselves on the couch, Natsu’s lips capturing hers, Lucy’s hands cupping his cheeks, which was not usual at all.

It was a soft kiss, neither of them really sure of what they were supposed to be doing with their mouths. They pulled away, pressing their foreheads together. The two stayed like that for a while, eyes closed, basking in the realization of what had just happened.

Lucy slowly opened her eyes and, just as she was about to speak, Happy flew in through the open window in her apartment.

“Lucy! Did you get any fish for me?”

Both Natsu and Lucy jumped at the sound of the exceed’s voice, scrambling to opposite ends of the couch so as to not raise any suspicion on what they had been doing less than a minute ago.

“Hey, buddy!” Natsu said a little too enthusiastically, his voice an octave higher than normal. “I thought you were hanging out with Carla.”

“Yeah, but I wanted to give her my fish and then I realized I actually ate it on the way to the guild, so I’m looking for another one.” He explained as he made his way to Lucy’s pantry.

“You already ate the fish I saved you.” Lucy called out, trying to hide her still reddened cheeks.

“What? Lucy~, that’s why I tell you to keep a bunch of them in the pantry!”

“I’m not saving any more of your stinky fish!” She got up and started pushing both of them towards the front door. “If you want more then go fishing and stop annoying me!”

The blonde slammed the door on their faces, leaning her head on it and letting her body slide down onto the floor. She normally didn’t mind their company, as much as she constantly berated them for invading her personal space, but today she needed to be alone in order to process what the hell had just happened.

The days following the incident were… weird. Lucy started avoiding Natsu like the plague. She dreaded going to the guild out of fear that she might run into him. And when she did inevitably run into him, she would make up a quick excuse as to why she couldn’t go on missions with him or sit with him to eat. The dragon slayer hadn’t sneaked into her place after that day either, which should have been a relief for the blonde, but it just made her feel like he thought what happened between them had been a mistake.

But what right did she have to feel this way? She was the one who continued to run away from him, too afraid of what might happen if they got the chance to be alone together. And now, she was all by herself in her apartment, deciding to focus on her novel instead of trying to go to the guild for a futile game of hide and seek like she had been doing all week. Except that this wasn’t working either. Every time she tried to write words on the paper, her mind went back to Natsu and that day. The way his lips felt against her own—chapped but sweet, the way his hands felt on top of her hips, how his wild hair smelled of-

Lucy flinched at the sound of someone knocking on her door. She jumped out of her desk chair and quickly opened the entrance to her apartment, not really caring who was behind the door as long as they could make her think of something other than her best friend’s lips.

“Hey, Lu!” As soon as the door opened, Levy jumped on the blonde, hugging her tight.

“Hey… everyone. What are you guys doing here?” Still a bit flustered from her earlier thoughts, Lucy hugged Levy back as she glanced up to see Cana, Juvia, Erza, Mira, and Lisanna all standing in her doorway.

“We thought today would be a perfect day for a girls’ night!” Mira explained as she and the other girls made themselves comfortable in Lucy’s home.

Lucy smiled softly. A girls’ night was just what she needed to clear her head, even if it was unexpected.

Or so she thought.

Not even ten minutes after her friends’ arrival, Cana exposed the real reason why they had suddenly come to visit. “So, Lucy, did something happen between you and Natsu?”

“Cana!” Levy smacked her arm as the other girls looked at the brunette with wide eyes.

“What? Might as well just come out and ask instead of beating around the bush.”

The blonde’s face glowed red as she hurriedly denied her friend’s question. “No! No no no, everything’s fine! W-why do you ask?”

“Please. We all notice how weird you’ve been acting lately. You run away if you see even a glimpse of pink hair.”

Lucy looked down. Maybe she should tell them what happened. She’s not used to talking about her feelings, normally just shoving them down and distracting herself by writing or going on a mission. But none of those distractions seemed to be working right now. And most of her friends had much more experience in this department than her, surely they would know what to do. Plus, she trusted these girls with her life.

“Natsu and I… we, we kissed… last week.” She muttered, still looking down. Part of her hoped they didn’t hear her but, alas, they did.

There was a resounding “WHAT?” from all of her guests and Lucy simply nodded, still too afraid to look up.

“Oh my God! Pay up, guys!” Cana jumped up, thrusting her open palm in front of Mira’s face.

“I really thought it would take them years.” Mirajane grumbled as she took out some rolled up jewels from her cleavage and handed them to the brunette. Both Lisanna and Erza also stood up and begrudgingly gave Cana their money.

“Juvia knew it was coming. They’ve been flirting more and more these days.” Said the water mage with a smug grin as Cana divided the bills with her and Levy.

“Wait, what?” Lucy finally looked up indignantly, “You guys made a bet about this?”

“Of course. We all know you two idiots are in love. You’re the last ones to realize it.” Cana shrugged as she sat down again.

“We’re not in love.” Lucy responded, but even she knew it was a weak protest.

“How did it happen? Who kissed who? Was it like you expected your first kiss to go?” Levy jumped from question to question excitedly.

“I don’t even know. We sat down on the couch after a sparring match and we were just playing around and then…” She trailed off.

“Did you like it?” Erza spoke up for the first time.

“...Yes?” Lucy responded after a while and groaned after she saw her friends’ cheeky smiles, burying her face in her hands.

“If you liked it so much, then why do you keep running away from him?” Asked Cana.

“I don’t know,” The blonde mumbled, face still buried in her hands before she moved to hug her knees instead, “Things are just… weird right now. I don’t know what I want, or what he wants.”

“Well, do you see yourself in a relationship with him?” Mira asked softly.

This got Lucy thinking. Ever since she was little, she had always fantasized about marrying her Prince Charming. Someone who was elegant, classy, a gentleman on all counts. But, after meeting Natsu, somehow the idea of that Prince Charming started fading away from her mind until there was no trace of it left. Now, whenever she thought about the one person she wanted to spend forever with, the only things she could envision were wide, warm smiles and pink hair. She never spent too much time thinking about what it could all mean, too afraid of what she might find if she dug deep enough in her heart. But the truth always found its way to the surface.

“I do.” She admitted in a whisper, more to herself than the people around her. “I want us to be together forever.”

“Then, what are you so afraid of? Go and talk to him.”

“I can’t. What if he doesn’t feel the same way? I don’t think he’s interested in relationships. And even if he was, he’s my best friend. I would never want to do anything that could jeopardize that.”

This time, Lisanna interjected. “Luce, I’ve known Natsu for a long time. I probably know him better than he knows himself in certain ways. I can assure you, the boy is head over heels for you. And I’m not the only one who sees it.” The other girls made gestures of agreement and Lisanna chuckled.

“You’re missing out on what could potentially be a beautiful thing because you’re scared of the what-ifs. Yes, maybe along the line something happens and you guys break up. But, maybe you don’t and you get to grow old together. You’ll never know unless you try. Life is all about risks and I know you’re brave enough to take them. I’ve seen you do it.”

Mira’s speech almost brought tears to Lucy’s eyes. She was right-- as she usually was about everything. If Lucy was able to leave everything behind at seventeen to become a mage and get through countless adversities in her way, even when all odds were against her, what’s stopping her from confronting a boy?

“No matter what happens, we will always be a team.” Erza added, and it was just the validation Lucy needed to make her mind up.

“Thank you, guys. Really. And you’re right. I need to stop running away and just talk to him.”

———

Today was the day. After going over everything the Strauss sisters had said to her in the mirror to gain courage, Lucy took a deep breath and made her way towards the guild.

As soon as she opened the grand doors, she was met with the familiar ruckus of Fairy Tail; chairs being thrown in the air, groups of people singing while drunk-- Cana being the most notable of all, of course. People yelling out what missions they were planning on taking to Mira, and what seemed to be a crowd of people cheering on a fight. She smiled. As much as Lucy loved peace and quiet, there was something so comforting about all the chaos that went on inside the guild. It felt like home.

Only when she got closer did the celestial mage notice that the people who were fighting were none other than Natsu and Gray. Gajeel seemed eager to join the fight from where he stood in the crowd, but he was being pulled back and chastised by Levy.

Rolling her eyes, Lucy squeezed her way through the group until she was standing on the front row. “Natsu, Gray! You better stop before Erza sees you.”

The threat fell on deaf ears, the two mages too entranced on beating each other up to even notice the presence of their friend. Sighing, Lucy made her way to where the two of them stood. Before either of the boys could process what was happening, Lucy grabbed their heads and crushed them together. The hollering crowd instantly went silent and slowly dispersed, knowing not to cross the blonde when she was in one of those moods.

“What the fuck, Lucy!” Cried out Gray as he rubbed the injured area.

Deciding there were more important matters at hand, Lucy ignored him and turned to Natsu who was also rubbing his head until he noticed the girl looking at him. He straightened up with wide eyes.

Before he could say anything though, Lucy hurriedly asked, “Can you come over for dinner later?” Knowing that if she didn’t ask now she would lose all the courage she worked so hard to build.

The question seemed to throw Natsu off. He sent a panicked look at Gray, as if questioning whether he heard her right, and answered after a few seconds. “S-sure! I’ll be there.”

———

Lucy decided to leave the guild early not only to make the food, but to mentally prepare for what was about to happen.

She was going to ask Natsu how he felt. And she had no idea what to expect. The boy had never been good with words or expressing himself, his thoughts always a mystery to whoever he was around. Perhaps if she hadn’t kicked him out of the apartment after their kiss and avoided him every day since then, she would have an idea of what was going on through his mind. But it’s too late for regret now.

Just as she finished setting up the small table, she heard someone knocking at her door. Taking a deep breath, Lucy opened the door to find her pink-haired partner scratching the back of his neck, a soft blush dusting his cheeks. Part of her was afraid he was going to fly in through the window with Happy, but she was glad to see he understood that she wanted them to talk alone.

“Natsu.” She breathed, suddenly at a loss for words.

“Hey, Luce.” He gave her one of his signature big smiles, but Lucy noticed that it didn’t reach his eyes. He seemed… nervous. She never thought Natsu was capable of feeling that emotion.

They stood awkwardly on the doorway for a few seconds before Lucy realized it was her turn to speak.

“C-come in! I made some of that spicy chicken you really like.” She looked down at the floor as she opened the door wider so he could pass.

“Thanks!” He chirped as he sat down on one of the dining chairs.

Lucy gulped. The entire speech she rehearsed over and over again had completely been erased from her mind the moment she saw him.

This was going to be a long night.

———

Once again, Lucy had no idea how they ended up like this. Dinnertime had been very awkward, the two of them eating silently for the most part, making small talk every once in a while, both of them too afraid to mention the elephant in the room. But, somehow, they had gone from barely talking at each other, to making a bet on who would win a sparring match. Even in the most difficult situations, Natsu always found a way to wreak havoc. And Lucy found a strange sense of comfort in that.

At first, the blonde was hesitant on accepting the bet, still feeling the discomfort of all the things left unsaid. But, when Natsu sent a Fire Dragon Iron Fist her way, breaking her favorite vase as she ducked, she decided to make good use of her Fleuve D’étoiles. After a few minutes of going back and forth, Lucy pretended to point at something surprising behind Natsu, which gave her the opportunity to wrap her whip around Natsu’s ankle when he looked back and tug him until he collapsed on the ground. The oldest and cheapest trick in the book, Lucy knew, but a win was a win. Honestly, she was more surprised that it had actually worked.

She unwrapped the whip from Natsu’s ankle and placed it gently on her desk. The dragon slayer was still laying flat on the floor, so Lucy decided to lay down next to him. She sighed as she felt all the tension she had been feeling lately leave her body. It had only been a week but she had seriously missed being around her best friend. It didn’t matter to her what they were, she just wanted to be with him. That was enough for her.

“Now my face is all red.” She muttered as she pressed her hands to her cheeks.

“I like your face.” Natsu mumbled and, as they both whipped their heads to look at each other with wide eyes, Lucy realized that he was just as surprised by what had come out of his mouth as she was. “I, I mean your face is cool! I-it’s nice. Even when it’s all red and sweaty like now.”

Lucy raised an eyebrow at his poor attempt to save himself but made no effort to stop him.

“But not only your face!” He continued, “Gray told me you should never just talk about a girl’s appearance.” He grumbled, as if upset he had broken some sort of special rule and Lucy could not stop her amused smile. “Like, yeah, your face is nice, but you are also nice! And smart. And I like how I feel when we hang out. Ugh, what am I saying?” He turned his face towards the ceiling again and covered it with his hands.

It took everything in Lucy’s power to not burst out laughing right then and there. Was Natsu… confessing? She had never seen him so flustered. Ever. Normally, that was her thing. She had to admit, it was nice being on the other end every once in a while. All this time, she tried her hardest to muster up the courage to talk to him, trying to convince herself that things would be fine even if he didn’t feel the same way and now here he was, making a fool out of himself in the most heartwarming way Lucy could have asked for.

After a couple moments of silence, Lucy finally decided to speak up with newfound confidence.

“... I like your face too. Just so you know.”

Natsu dropped his hands from his face and whipped his head to look at Lucy. She raised her eyebrows, hoping he would understand exactly what she meant. She knew he understood by the way his lips slowly formed a giddy smile, one to match hers. Without the need for any more words, they both turned to look at the ceiling as their hands found their way to each other’s, fingers entangling.

This definitely wasn’t the usual for them, but maybe it was time for a new normal.

#fairy tail #nalu #nalu fanfic #lucy heartfilia #natsu dragneel #my writing #i think this is the longest one-shot i've written so far #not pictured: gray threatening to cut natsu's balls if he ever hurt lucy after finding out about the kiss #also not pictured: the bags under my eyes because i decided to proof-read this at an ungodly hour

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dreaming-about-fanfictions · 3 years

Text

Sleeping With The Enemy II Draco Malfoy x Reader II Part 3 of 3

Summary: Being a Slytherin yourself doesn’t make you hate Malfoy any less. So why can’t you stop fantasizing about him? (18+)

PART 1 PART 2

A/N: I’m thinking of combining this concept with another series that I’m planning rn because I had so much fun writing this mini series! I hope you guys like the ending! Thank you so much for your support! <3

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x fem!Reader, Words: 3.2k Warnings: post-war Hogwarts, smut, swearing, oral sex (male receiving)

Once again, an image was stuck in your mind.

This time however, it was way worse than your ex and Pansy. It was of Draco Malfoy and Pansy. Of his hips thrusting into her; of her legs wrapped around his waist, accompanied by the sound, sweaty bodies slapping against each other. It haunted you whenever you closed your eyes, it followed you into your dreams that night. You still couldn’t believe that happened to you. Twice in one week.

At breakfast you could barely look at them. You sat at the far end of the table, next to Millicent, keeping your head down. In your first period, it was the same. You were glad they were both seated behind you. Well, until Professor Slughorn decided to pair you into groups. He chose Malfoy as your partner.

What a huge surprise.

Of fucking course.

“Did you sleep well last night?”, Malfoy asked nonchalantly while reading the instructions.

You almost dropped the glass of snails. “Exceptionally well,” you then said and cleared your throat. You didn’t have to look at Malfoy to know that he was smirking. Clenching your teeth, you continued working in silence.

Malfoy spoke again after a few moments. “Never would have thought you’d be into something like that.” He walked past you to grab a bottle with snake blood from the other side of the table. When he did that, his arms brushed your side. You hated yourself for the shiver that ran down your spine.

“Something like what?”, you asked innocently. “The smell of honey?” You gestured towards the cauldron where a pink liquid bubbled, smelling like honey and wildflowers. The potion could let the person who drinks from it forget anything they want. How fitting, you thought. Exactly what you needed right now. It was also extremely toxic when given too much.

“Watching.”

Blood rushed to your cheeks. “Don’t, Malfoy.” You kept your eyes on the liquid. “If I didn’t know it’d kill me, I’d stick my head into the cauldron right now to erase the memory from my mind. So can we please just … forget it. Please?”

“Begging suits you.”

You groaned. “Fucking hell, Malfoy.” Everything seemed to be a joke to him.

The blonde Slytherin chuckled at your reaction and for the first time since you started working together, you looked at him. His stormy eyes sparkled with mischief and he lowered his voice when he continued: “I don’t want to forget about it.”

Me either. You stared at him.

“Ms. Y/L/N, Mr. Malfoy, are you making progress?”, the voice of your Professor made you flinch. Slughorn had appeared next to you, looking curiously into the cauldron.

“We’re almost there, Sir,” Malfoy replied and your cheeks burned. “Almost there.”

***

The remaining lessons of the day followed the same plot - you sat far away from Malfoy and Pansy and avoided eye contact at all costs. It worked perfectly - until your eyes accidentally wandered over to his table.

He wasn’t writing. His quill layed loosely in his hand and his gaze was fixated on you. Only then you realized what you did -

You bite down on your lip when you concentrate or listen to the professors, Malfoy had said during that faithful night where you first talked, combine that with your skirt riding up your thighs and …

You crossed your legs, causing your skirt to ride up even higher. Malfoy shifted in his seat. When you felt the soft tingling in your stomach, you turned your head away.

***

“Theo, if you don’t stop eyefucking that Hufflepuff right now, you’re gonna sit on the bench and watch today. I am not losing against Gryffindor - again,” Blaise looked at the Chaser with narrowed eyes.

Your team members chuckled and Theo only rolled his eyes at Blaise - however not before winking at the 6th year Hufflepuff who gave him a little wave in response as she walked towards the stairs.

You stood outside the Slytherin locker rooms, all dressed in your quidditch uniforms. Today was the second game of the season and your team captain was dead set on winning it.

“Maybe Y/N should sit on the bench today, Blaise,” Malfoy suggested. “I heard she’s good at watching.”

You clenched your jaw. “Then you probably also heard that I’m even better at kicking your ass.”

“Please,” he raised one eyebrow. “I want to see you try.”

“Alright, whatever this is, stop it.” Blaise sighed. Apparently, the whole team seemed a little distracted today. “This is the second game of this year but it’ll also be the first game we win. So, pull yourselves together and make the Gryffindors regret the day they were born.”

You lost the game.

It was embarrassing, really. In the history of Quidditch, not once did Slytherin loose this high to the Gryffindors. When you walked off the field afterwards, heads hanging and accompanied by the laughter and songs of the Gryffindors, Blaise was fuming. It came to no surprise to you that he ordered you and Malfoy inside the boys locker room, after everyone had left.

“Both of you - in here,” he demanded in a sharp tone. Draco returned from the far end of the room while buttoning his shirt. You leaned against the doorframe, annoyed and frankly tired. A lecture from your team captain was the last thing you needed right now, considering you’d get one at the next training session anyways. Blaise looked back and forth between you and Malfoy before announcing: “Get your shit together?”

You raised your eyebrows. “What?”

“We all get it, you hate each other,” Blaise began. Malfoy snorted. “But if you let this affect our Quidditch games I have no choice but to …”

“To what?”, the blond one asked.

“Kick you off the team.”

Your eyes widened and you straightened up, taking a step inside. “So, Malfoy is the one who keeps making inappropriate comments and I’m the one who gets kicked off the team?!” You crossed your arms in front of your chest. “Are you for real, Blaise?”

He looked at you calmly. “You are distracted.”

“Because he distracts me.” You gestured at Malfoy who rolled his eyes.

“During the last training sessions, you didn’t focus and kept your eyes on him instead of the Quaffel. Didn’t matter whether or not Draco said something beforehand,” Blaise said. “So, to answer your question - yes, I’m for real.”

You swallowed. You were speechless (and a little embarrassed). You opened your mouth but then closed it again.

“Don’t, Draco,” Blaise shot his friend an annoyed glance. You quickly noticed why - Malfoy watched you, amused. He obviously held back a grin. When Blaise confronted him, he gave a dismissive wave. “Give it a rest, Zabini.”

“No, I won’t,” Blaise scoffed, “stop trying to get her attention unless it’s Quidditch related. It’s annoying and I won’t allow it in my team.” He looked back and forth between you again. “Are we clear?”

“Crystal,” Malfoys voice dripped with sarcasm.

“Yes.” You nodded, anger still burning inside of you. Blaise nodded, not content but slightly less mad, and left. You decided to find him later and talk a little sense into him.

It was quiet for a while.

“Should have fucked him when you had the chance.” Apparently Malfoy was incapable of keeping his thoughts to himself - no matter how stupid they were.

“Oh, when will you ever shut up?!”, you sneered at him. “I can’t believe you almost got me kicked out of the team!”

“It’s not my fault you can’t keep your eyes off me.”

“Right,” you laughed bitterly. “Oh, don’t give me that look. You stare at me, you make inappropriate -”

“Stop saying I’m the one who’s inappropriate when you literally watched me fuck your best friend last night.”

This managed to shut you up. You gasped at his words and then the image appeared in front of your eyes again. His hair that was still messy from the shower resembled his hair from last night after Pansy had tugged on it and run her fingers through it.

“Did you know we’d meet there?”, Draco continued. “Did Pansy tell you?”

“Of course not!”, you exclaimed, “What’s wrong with you!”

“What’s wrong with you for not leaving?” Malfoy walked towards you until only a few steps separated you.

“You would have caught me!”

“I caught you anyways.”

“I’m sorry,” the apology left your mouth before you could think about it.

You saw a flicker of confusion in his eyes. “For what?”

“I should have left.”

Malfoy looked at you. He was so close. So awfully close that you could smell his spearmint shampoo. And there was something else … something beneath that fresh scent. He smelled like sex. You smelt it before, you realized. But this time … this time it was because of you.

“Why didn’t you?”, Draco finally asked in a low voice.

“I couldn’t.” You were trapped in his gaze.

“Why?” He moved his hands slightly and they brushed against yours. Your breath shuddered.

“Because I keep thinking about -”, you trailed off.

“About what?”

“What you said that night.” The words were barely a whisper. You were scared he might have not understood you, unsure about whether or not you could repeat them.

“Do you want me to turn it into a reality?”

Your heart began to pump faster in your chest, you were scared it might jump out of it. The second the question left his mouth, you knew the answer to it. Your body knew the answer to it. The way, the hair on your arms and neck stood up, told you.

It would be like an itch. You would scratch it once (maybe twice) and then it would be gone. Forgotten. You could go back to hating him and finally start grieving your lost relationship. Your breathing hitched when he tilted his head and his eyes dropped to your lips.

“Yes,” you said.

Your lips collided and the world stood still.

You felt his hands on your hips immediately, pulling you closer to him, as his lips worked tirelessly against yours. When they parted, his tongue slipped into your mouth and it swallowed the soft moan. Before the war, before he became a Death Eater, there were rumours floating through Hogwarts passed by giggling girls and jealous boys. How many times did you hear Pansy swoon over the way he kisses, the way his lips taste against hers? Countless times. And yet, nothing could have prepared you for this.

He was leading and it came to no surprise to you. You lost yourself in him, all the doubts and anger and embarrassment from the past days faded away, and all that was left were his lips against yours. His hands found your hair, tugging on it sharply to expose your neck. You whined when he traveled down to kiss the sensitive skin on there.

“Fuck,” you whispered as he sucked on the skin before abruptly pushing him away.

Draco looked up, visibly confused. You smirked, your hand still on his chest, as he walked backwards until he felt the bench against the back of his legs. You pushed him down and straddled him, your skirt riding up your thigh. When you let your hips roll against him, you heard it again - the same low moan from the night before. It resonated within you, causing you to press yourself tighter against him and deepen the kiss. You felt his erection and an ache began to grow inside of you. Just feeling it like this … you could imagine how big he truly must be. You wanted, no, you needed to see it, feel it, taste it.

His hands searched for the hem of your skirt and you felt his fingers trailing up your thigh. “Not yet,” you whispered and playfully pushed them away. Keeping your eyes locked, you slid down his lap and in between his legs. A smirk spread to his lips as you unzipped his pants.

His cock sprung free, fully erect and dripping. You gulped at the sight, your panties dampening. You reached for his shaft and Draco let out a sharp hiss when you gave it a few good, hard strokes. His breathing became ragged and when the look in his eyes darkened, you leaned forward and licked over the length of his cock. Your tongue circled over the top and you moaned when you tasted the salty precum.

“Tease,” Draco mumbled and you chuckled.

“Tell me what you want me to do,” you whispered in response.

“I want you to take my cock in your mouth,” he said, “take it like the - ah, fuck!”

Your mouth closed around his shaft and he let his head fall back. His eyes fluttered shut as you began to bop your head up and down. You couldn’t take him all in so your hand pumped him in the same rhythm as you sucked him off. Moans and curses escaped his lips. “I knew there was a reason why I wanted to fuck you all this time.”

You moaned around him, the familiar ache growing stronger and stronger inside of you. It was the same sensation you had felt the night prior. But now you weren’t forced to stand aside while he fucked another girl - now you were the one making him tremble. Draco’s hand found your hair, guiding you.

You gagged when his cock hit the back of your throat and he cursed. “Good girl,” he was out of breath, “sucking my dick like the good little slut you are …”

You looked up at him through your lashes - and you thought he looked beautiful the night before? Well, this was truly a sight for the gods. Seeing him staring down at you, his blonde hair hanging down messily, his eyes dark with lust - if your panties weren’t completely soaked before, they sure as hell were now.

You sensed that he was close. His legs started to tremble, he tightened the grip in your hair, and then he abruptly pulled you up. If you had it your way, he would come inside of your mouth. You wanted nothing more than for him to release himself inside of you as he fucked your mouth. Draco had different plans.

He got up, his clothes falling to the ground quickly, and pushed you against the locker room wall. You licked over your lips before his mouth claimed yours again in a hungry kiss. He ripped at your blouse, buttons clattering on the ground. His hands explored your body, grabbing and squeezing and then he finally, finally, slipped underneath your skirt and panties. You moaned loudly when his fingers teasingly stroked over your wet folds.

“Oh, you’re soaked, darling,” he chuckled cockily.

“Shut up and touch me already,” you shot back.

“Your wish is my command.” You felt the smile against your skin and then pleasure exploded inside of you. His fingers circled over your clit, stroking, teasing, flicking over the sensitive skin and your moans turned into whimpers and pleads and begs. With every movement of his hand did he push you closer to the edge. You were so close, so fucking close - Draco stopped.

Your eyes flew open in anger but then you felt him pressing against your entrance. He looked at you, his grey eyes searching for something in yours - you nodded. The simple sign of consent wasn’t enough.

“Ask for it,” he growled.

You snorted. “What?”

His thumb flicked over your clit once more and you moaned. “Shit,” you managed to get out breathlessly. “Oh, fuck me, Malfoy!”

His cock pressed against you. You would just have to buckle your hip and he would slip inside of you. “I said,” his hot breath sent shivers down your spine, “ask for it and say my name!”

You whimpered. “Please, Draco, please will you fuck me? I need you.”

He thrusted into you in one swift movement. Your walls stretched around him and it was almost too much. The pleasure almost bordered on pain, but gods, if this wasn’t the most delicious pain you had ever felt in your life. He gave you only a little time to adjust before he started pounding into you.

“You have no idea what you did to me last night,” he whispered in between sloppy kisses. “When I saw you …”

“It was so fucking hot,” you said, another loud moan escaping your mouth as he sped up. For a second you were scared someone might hear you and come in but the thought got chased away when Draco groaned in your ear.

“I forgot all about her, I only thought about fucking you. The look in your eyes … let me see them …”

His hips stuttered when your eyes met. Your body arched against him when he shifted, hitting that sweet spot from a different position. You didn’t think it was possible for you to become even wetter but slick juices ran down your leg. “I thought about you tonight,” you whimpered, “touching me … taking me …”

It was true. When Draco and Pansy had left the Astronomy Tower and you were up there all alone, a moment of weakness overcame you. The pleasure inside of you had grown too strong and in the haze of the aftermath, your body craved release. You came silently, the image of his grey eyes staring at you still in your mind. Shame had followed quickly. Shame and embarrassment by what you did.

“Fuck,” Draco groaned before he loses all control. There was nothing sweet or slow about his thrusts anymore - he fucked you violently, took you as he pleased. His hands gripped you so tightly, you knew it would leave bruises but the sharp pain was drowned out by the pleasure. It built and built inside of you; your legs started shaking and then you heard him calling out your name before the orgasmn rolled over you like a wave. You held onto him desperately, cursing loudly as you came all over his cock. Draco followed shortly after, pounding into you, moans escaping his throat, until he finally released himself. Warmth spread inside of you and you shuddered.

Your breath trembled as you rode out the last waves of the orgasm. When Draco pulled out of you, the sudden emptiness allowed a last, short whimper to escape your mouth. He lowered you to the ground carefully, before sitting down next to you.

You leaned against the wall with your eyes closed. When your breathing calmed down you turned your head towards him. He looked at you, his chest rising and falling steadily.

“I understand the hype now,” you said after a few more moments.

He raised an eyebrow. “The hype?”

“Around you,” you make a vague gesture in his direction. “I understand now.”

Draco snorted. “I’m flattered,” he said dryly. “But this wasn’t my best work.”

“It wasn’t?”

He shook his head.

“Then what is?”, you asked curiously.

“Get under the shower and I show you.”

***

HP Masterlist

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#draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy x reader smut #draco malfoy smut #astrids fics

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shai-manahan · 2 years

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The fact that I can’t decide on a main RO bc all of them sound amazing and complex! nuanced characters are one of my favorite things in IF, and i love how all of your characters have flaws and “”ugly”” parts, even the good guys. It makes the story feel real and makes the stakes higher.

Also, as a Brazilian person I totally relate to your story of looking at the corruption in your country and feeling despair. Our countries have similar histories (even w/ the decades of dictatorship) despite being in different sides of the world, so now that i know the reason of why you’re writing the story it feels even more special to me. You’re a great writer and a brave person!

That's so great to hear!

I do love writing characters with flaws that become more visible the further the reader gets to know them. That has been one of my biggest goals as I started writing HM. It also has something to do with all the representation I want to properly show, I suppose. As unfortunate as it is, I grew up reading a lot of stories that had their characters of color either fall into harmful tropes or be tokenized, and that made me want to create characters that are, you know, much more than those. I wanted them to feel real, as real as the setting was meant to be, and for that to happen, I needed to take into account both their roles in the story and the backgrounds they all came from.

All the characters had something happen in their pasts (even Owen) that turned them into who they are today. They made mistakes (because who doesn’t?), some of them no longer redeemable, but I wanted those mistakes to be their catalyst. I wanted those mistakes to be the reason why they’ll make certain decisions throughout the story, however surprising they may be. Plus, I feel like refraining from giving these characters some serious flaws would also not give their backgrounds justice, and in a setting where corruption and violence are unceasing, that would simply be very unrealistic.

As the story goes forward, you’ll also meet more characters with the same level of complexity. Some of them are outright evil, yes, but that doesn’t mean they can’t have aspects making them “human” (no redemption for most of them, though), and I think it will be interesting to show you all how the city molded them into that. And just as you’d see some who can’t seem to turn evil no matter what they have faced, some are also... well, there is a certain character who had once tried so much to be a better person, but it was simply too late and present circumstances can never give them the chance again.

Anyway! I am starting to ramble again (sorry) but I am very passionate in creating complex characters so these asks are very fulfilling to answer! I’m also glad that what I said before made this story more special to you!!! It means a lot to hear that, especially since people around me aren’t too supportive of my antics haha. I hope Hollowed Minds will live up to all the expectations!

#interactive fiction #hollowed minds series #hollowed minds #wip #ask #melnikovagelya #writing

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warsofasoiaf · 3 years

Text

Writing Characters With Believable Military PTSD

I typically write these writing and worldbuilding essays from a dispassionate perspective, offering advice and context to prospective writers from as neutral a point of view as I can manage, with the goal being to present specific pieces of information and broader concepts that can hopefully improve writing and build creators’ confidence to bring their projects to fruition, whether that be writing, tabletop gaming, video game programming, or anything that suits their fancy. While writing this essay though, I struggled to maintain that perspective. Certainly, the importance of the topic to me was a factor, but ultimately, I saw impersonality just as a suboptimal presentation method for something so intensely personal. I do maintain some impartiality particularly in places where historical or academic context is called for, but in other respects I’ve opted for a different approach. Ultimately, this essay is a labor of love for me, love for those who suffer from military PTSD, love for those who love those who suffer from it, and love for writers who want to, in the way that they so choose, help those two other groups out. Thus, this is a different type of essay in certain segments than my usual fare; I hope the essay isn’t an unreadable chimera because of it.

This essay focuses on military-related PTSD. While there are some concepts that translate well into PTSD in the civilian sphere, there are unique elements that do not necessarily fit the mold in both directions, so for someone hoping to write a different form of PTSD, I would recommend finding other resources that could better suit your purposes. I also recommend using more than one source just in general, trauma is personal and so multiple sources can help provide a wide range of experiences to draw upon, which should hopefully improve any creative work.

And as a final introductory note, traumatic experiences are deeply personal. If you are using someone you know as a model for your writing, you owe it to that person to communicate exactly what you are doing and to ask their permission every step of the way. I consider it a request out of politeness to implore any author who uses someone else’s experiences to inform their writing in any capacity, but when it comes to the truly negative experiences in someone’s life, this rises higher from request to demand. You will ask someone before taking a negative experience from their own life and placing it into your creative works, and you will not hide anything about it from them. Receiving it is a great sign of trust. The opposite is a travesty, robbing someone of a piece of themselves and placing it upon display as a grotesque exhibit. And if that sounds ghoulish and macabre, it’s because it is, without hyperbole. Don’t do it.

Why Write PTSD?

What is the purpose of including PTSD in a creative work? There have been plenty of art therapy actions taken by those who suffer PTSD to create something from their condition, which can be as profound for those who do not have it as it is therapeutic for those that do, but why would someone include it in their creative works, and why is some no-name guy on the internet writing an essay offering tips as to how to do it better?

Certainly, one key element is that it’s real, and it happens. If art is to reflect upon reality, PTSD suffered by soldiers is one element of that, so art can reflect it, but what specifically about PTSD, as opposed to any other facet of existence? Author preference certainly plays a factor, but why would someone try to include something that is difficult to understand and difficult to portray? While everyone comes to their own reason, I think that a significant number of people are curious about what exactly goes on in the minds of someone suffering through PTSD, and creative works allow them a way to explore it, much the way fiction can explore scenarios and emotions that are either unlikely or unsafe to explore in reality. If that’s the case, then the purpose of this essay is rather simple, to make the PTSD examination more grounded in reality and thus a better reflection of it. But experiences are unique even if discernable patterns emerge, so in that sense, no essay created by an amateur writer with no psychological experience could be an authoritative take on reality, the nature of which would is far beyond the scope of this essay.

For my own part, I think that well-done creative works involving PTSD is meant to break down the isolation that it can cause in its wake. Veterans suffering may feel that they are alone, that their loved ones cannot understand them and the burden of trying to create that would simply push them away; better instead to have the imperfect bonds that they currently have than risk losing them entirely. For those who are on the outside looking in, isolation lurks there as well, a gulf that seems impossible to breach and possibly intrusive to even try. Creative works that depict PTSD can help create a sense that victims aren’t alone, that there are people that understand and can help without demeaning the sense of self-worth. Of course, another element would be to reduce the amount of poorly-done depictions of PTSD. Some creative works use PTSD as a backstory element, relegating a defining and important element of an individual’s life as an aside, or a minor problem that can be resolved with a good hug and a cry or a few nights with the right person. If a well-done creative work can help create a bridge and break down isolation, a poorly-done one can turn victims off, reinforcing the idea that no one understands and worse, no one cares. For others, it gives a completely altered sense of what PTSD is and what they could do to help, keeping them out, confusing them, or other counter-productive actions. In that sense, all the essay is to help build up those who are doing the heavy lifting. I’m not full of so much hubris as to think this is a profound piece of writing that will help others, but if creators are willing to try and do the hard work of building a bridge, I could at least try to help out and provide a wheelbarrow.

An Abbreviated Look At The Many Faces and Names of PTSD Throughout History

PTSD has been observed repeatedly throughout human history, even when it was poorly understood. This means that explorations of PTSD can be written in settings even if they did not have a distinctly modern understanding of neurology, trauma, or related matters. These historical contexts are also useful for worldbuilding a believable response in fictional settings and scenarios that don’t necessarily have a strict analogue in our own history. By providing this historical context, hopefully I can craft a broad-based sense of believable responses to characters with PTSD at a larger level.

In the time of Rome, it was understood by legionnaires that combat was a difficult endeavor, and so troops were typically on the front lines engaged in combat for short periods of time, to be rotated back for rest while others took their place. It was considered ideal, in these situations, to rotate troops that fought together back so that they could rest together. The immediate lesson is obvious, the Romans believed that it was vital for troops to take time to process what they had done and that was best served with quiet periods of rest not just to allow the adrenaline to dissipate (the "combat high"), but a chance for the mind to wrap itself around what the legionnaire had done. The Romans also recognized that camaraderie between fellow soldiers helped soldiers to cope, and this would be a running theme throughout history (and remains as such today). Soldiers were able to empathize with each other, and help each other through times of difficulty. This was not all sanguine, however, Roman legions depended on their strong formations, and a soldier that did not perform their duty could endanger the unit, and so shame in not fulfilling their duty was another means to keep soldiers in line. The idea of not letting down your fellow soldiers is a persistent refrain in coping with the traumas of war, and throughout history this idea has been used for both pleasant and unpleasant means of keeping soldiers in the fight.

In the Middle Ages, Geoffroi de Charny wrote extensively on the difficulties that knights could experience on the campaign trail in his Book of Chivalry. The book highlights the deprivation that knights suffered, from the bad food and poor sleep to the traumatic experience of combat to being away from family and friends to the loss of valued comrades to combat and infection; each of these is understood as a significant stressor that puts great strain on the mental health of soldiers up to today. De Charny recommended focusing on the knightly oaths of service, the needs of the mission of their liege, and the duty of the knight to serve as methods to help bolster the resolve of struggling knights. The book also mentions seeking counseling and guidance from priests or other confidants to help improve their mental health to see their mission through. This wasn’t universal, however. Some severely traumatized individuals were seen as simple cowards, and punished harshly for their perceived cowardice as antithetical to good virtue and to serve as an example.

World War I saw a sharp rise in the reported incidents of military-related PTSD and new understandings and misunderstandings. The rise in the number of soldiers caused a rise in cases of military PTSD, even though the term itself was not known at the time. Especially in the early phases of the war, many soldiers suffering from PTSD were thought to be malingering, pretending to have symptoms to avoid being sent to the front lines. The term “shell shock” was derived because it was believed that the concussive force of artillery bombardment caused brain damage as it rattled the skull or carbon monoxide fumes would damage the brain as they were inhaled, as a means to explain why soldiers could have physical responses such as slurred speech, lack of response to external stimuli, even nigh-on waking catatonia, despite not being hit by rifle rounds or shrapnel. This would later be replaced by the term “battle fatigue” when it became apparent that artillery bombardment was not a predicative indicator. Particularly as manpower shortages became more prevalent, PTSD-sufferers could be sent to firing squads as a means to cow other troops to not abandon their post. Other less fatal methods of shaming could occur, such as the designation “Lack of Moral Fibre,” an official brand of cowardice, as an attempt to shame the members into remembering their duty. As the war developed, and understanding grew, better methods of treatment were made, with rest and comfort provided to slight cases, strict troop rotations observed to rotate men to and from the front lines, and patients not being told that they were being evacuated for nervous breakdown to avoid cementing that idea in their mind. These lessons would continue into World War II, where the term “combat stress reaction” was adopted. While not always strenuously followed, regular rotations were adopted as standard policy. This was still not universal, plenty of units still relied upon bullying members into maintaining their post despite mental trauma.

The American military promotes a culture of competence and ability, particularly for the enlisted ranks, and that lends itself to the soldier viewing themselves in a starkly different fashion than a civilian. Often, a soldier sees the inability to cope with a traumatic experience as a personal failure stemming from the lack of mental fortitude. Owning up to such a lack of capability is tantamount to accepting that they are an inferior soldier, less capable than their fellows. This idea is commonly discussed, and should not be ignored, but it is far from the only reason. The military also possesses a strong culture of fraternity that obligates “Don’t be a fuckup,” is a powerful motivating force, and it leads plenty of members of the military to ignore traumatic experiences out of the perceived need not to put the burden on their squadmates. While most professional militaries stress that seeking mental health for trauma is not considered a sign of weakness, enlisted know that if they receive mental health counseling, it is entirely likely that someone will have to take their place in the meantime. That could potentially mean that another person, particularly in front-line units, are exposed to danger that they would otherwise not be exposed to, potentially exacerbating guilt if said person gets hurt or killed. This is even true in stateside units, plenty of soldiers don’t report for treatment because it would mean dumping work on their fellows, a negative aspect of unit fraternity. Plenty of veterans also simply never are screened for mental health treatment, and usually this lends to a mentality of “well, no one is asking, so I should be fine.” These taken together combine to a heartbreaking reality, oftentimes a modern veteran that seeks help for mental trauma has often coped silently for years, perhaps self-medicating with alcohol or off-label drug usage, and is typically very far along their own path comparatively. Others simply fall through the cracks, not being screened for mental disorders and so do not believe that anything is wrong; after all, if something was wrong, surely the doctors would notice it, right? The current schedule of deployments, which are duration-based and not mission-based, also make it hard for servicemembers to rationalize their experiences and equate them to the mission; there’s no sense of pairing suffering to objectives the way that de Charnay mentioned could help contextualize the deprivation and loss. These sorts of experiences make the soldier feel adrift, and their suffering pointless, which is discouraging on another level. It is one thing to suffer for a cause, it’s another not to know why, amplifying the feelings of powerlessness and furthering the isolation that they feel.

Pen to Page - The Characters and Their Responses

The presentation of PTSD within a character will depend largely on the point-of-view that the author creates. A character that suffers from PTSD depending on the presence of an internal or external point-of-view, will be vastly different experiences on page. Knowing this is essential, as this will determine how the story itself is presenting the disorder. Neither is necessarily more preferable than the other, and is largely a matter of the type of story being told and the personal preference of the author.

Internal perspectives will follow the character’s response from triggering event to immediate response. This allows the author to present a glimpse into what the character is experiencing. In these circumstances, remember that traumatic flashbacks are merely one of many experiences that an average sufferer of PTSD can endure. In a visual medium, flashbacks are time-effective methods to portray a character reliving portions of a traumatic experience, but other forms of media can have other tools. Traumatic flashbacks are not necessarily a direct reliving of an event from start to finish, individuals may instead feel sudden sharp pains of old injuries, be overwhelmed by still images of traumatic scenes or loud traumatic sounds. These can be linked to triggers that bring up the traumatic incident, such as a similar sight, sound, or smell. These moments of linkage are not necessarily experienced linearly or provide a clear sequence of events from start to finish (memory rarely is unless specifically prompted), and it may be to the author’s advantage to not portray them as such in order to communicate the difficulty in mental parsing that the character may be experiencing. Others might be more intrusive, such as violently deranged nightmares that prevent sleep. The author must try to strike a balance between portraying the experience realistically and portraying it logically that audience members can understand. The important thing about these memories is that they are intrusive, unwelcome, and quite stressful, so using techniques that jar the reader, such as the sudden intrusive image of a torn body, a burning vehicle, or another piece of the traumatic incident helps communicate the disorientation. Don't rely simply on shock therapy, it's not enough just to put viscera on the page. Once it is there, the next steps, how the character reacts, is crucial to a believable response.

When the character experiences something that triggers their PTSD, start to describe the stress response, begin rapidly shortening the sentences to simulate the synaptic activity, express the fight-flight-freeze response as the character reacts, using the tools of dramatic action to heighten tension and portraying the experience as something frightful and distinctly undesirable. The triggering incident brings back the fear, such as a pile of rubble on the side of the road being a potential IED location, or a loud firework recalling the initial moments of an enemy ambush. The trauma intrudes, and the character falls deep into the stress response, and now they react. How does this character react? By taking cover? By attacking the aggressor who so reminds them of the face of their enemy? Once the initial event starts, then the character continues to respond. Do they try to get to safety? Secure the area and eliminate the enemy? Eventually, the character likely recognizes their response is inappropriate. It wasn’t a gunshot, it was a car backfiring, the smell of copper isn’t the sight of a blown-apart comrade and the rank odor of blood, it’s just a jug of musty pennies. This fear will lead to control mechanisms where the victim realizes that their response is irrational. Frequently, the fear is still there, and it still struggles with control. This could heighten a feeling a powerlessness in the character as they try and fail to put the fear under control: "Yes, I know this isn’t real and there’s nothing to be afraid of, but I’m still shaking and I am still afraid!" It’s a horrifying logical track, a fear that the victim isn’t even in control of their thoughts - the one place that they should have control - and that they might always be this way. There’s no safety since even their thoughts aren’t safe. Despair might also follow, as the victim frantically asserts to regain control. Usually with time, the fear starts to lessen as the logical centers of the brain regain control, and the fear diminishes. Some times, the victim can't even really recall the exact crippling sense of fear when attempting to recall it, only that they were afraid and that it was deeply scary and awful, but the notion that it happened remains in their mind.

Control mechanisms are also important to developing a believable PTSD victim. Most sufferers dread the PTSD response and so actively avoid objects or situations that could potentially trigger. Someone who may have had to escape from a helicopter falling into the ocean may not like to be immersed in water. Someone who was hit by a hidden IED may swerve to avoid suspicious piles in the road. Someone buried under a collapsing ceiling may become claustrophobic. Thus, many characters with PTSD will be hypervigilant almost to the point of exhaustion, avoiding setting off the undesired response. This hypervigilance is mentally taxing; the character begins to become sluggish mentally as all their energy is squeezed out, leaving them struggling for even the simplest of rational thoughts. This mental fog can be translated onto the page in dramatic effect by adding paragraph length to even simple actions, bringing the reader along into the fog, laboriously seeing the character move to perform simple actions. Then, mix in a loss of a sense of purpose. They’re adrift, not exactly sure what they’re doing and barely aware of what’s happening, although they are thinking and functioning. In the character’s daily life, they are living their life using maximum effort to avoid triggering responses; this is another aspect of control that the character can use as an attempt to claw back some semblance of power in their own lives. Even control methods that aren’t necessarily healthy such as drinking themselves to pass out every night or abusing sleeping pills in an attempt to sleep due to their nightmares, are ways to attempt to regain a sense of normalcy and function. Don’t condescend to these characters and make them pathetic, that’s just another layer of cruelty, but showing the unhealthy coping mechanisms can demonstrate the difficulty that PTSD victims are feeling. Combined with an external perspective, the author can show the damage that these unhealthy actions are doing without casting the character as weak for not taking a different path.

External perspectives focus on the other characters and how they observe and react to the individual in question. Since the internal thought process of the character is not known, sudden reactions to an unknown trigger can be quite jarring for characters unaware, which can mirror real-life experiences that individuals can have with PTSD-sufferers. In these types of stories, the character’s reaction to the victim is paramount. PTSD in real life often evokes feelings of helplessness in loved ones when they simply cannot act to help, can evoke confusion, or anger and resentment. These reactions are powerful emotions with the ability to drive character work, and so external perspectives can be useful for telling a story about what it is like for loved ones who suffer in their own fashion. External perspectives can be used not just in describing triggering episodes, but in exploring how the character established coping mechanisms and how their loved ones react to them. Some mechanisms are distinctly unhealthy, such as alcohol or prescription drug abuse, complete withdrawal, or a refusal to drive vehicles, and these create stress and a feeling of helplessness in characters or can impel them to try and take action. Others can be healthy, and a moment of inspiration and joy for an external perspective could be sharing in that mechanism, demonstrating empathy and understanding which evokes strong pathos, and hopefully to friends of those who suffer from PTSD, a feeling that they too, are not alone.

As the character progresses, successes and failures can often be one of the most realistic and most important things to include within the work, since those consumers who have PTSD will see parts of themselves in the characters, which can build empathy and cut down on the feelings of isolation that many victims of PTSD feel. A character could, over the course of the story, begin weaning themselves off of their control mechanisms, have the feelings of panic subside as their logical sides more quickly assert control, replace unhealthy coping mechanisms with healthier ones, or other elements of character progression and growth. Contrarily, a character making progress could, after experiencing significant but unrelated stressors, backslide either into unhealthy coping mechanisms or be blindsided by another attack. This is a powerful fear for the victim, since it can cause them to think ‘all my progress, all my effort, and I am not free!’ This is often a great fear for PTSD users (people with depression often have the same feeling) that find methods of coping are no longer as effective, and the struggle is perceived as one that they’re ultimately doomed to failure. This feeling of inevitable failure can lead to self-harm and suicide as their avenue of success seems to burn to ash right as it was in their hands. More than one soldier suffering from PTSD has ended up concluding: “Fuck it, I can’t live like this,” as horrible as that is. Don’t be afraid to include setbacks and backsliding, those happen in reality, and can be one of the most isolating fears in their lives; if the goal of portraying PTSD accurately is to help remove that feeling of isolation, then content creators must not avoid these experiences. Success as well as failure are essential to PTSD in characters in stories, these elements moreso than any other, I believe, will transcend the medium and form a connection, fulfilling the objective we set out to include in the beginning paragraphs.

Coming Back to the Beginning

It might be counterintuitive at first glance to say “including military PTSD will probably mean it will be a long journey full of discouraging story beats that might make readers depressed,” because that’s definitely going to discourage some readers to do that. I don’t see it that way, though. The people that want to do it should go in knowing it’s going to be hard, and let that strengthen their resolve, and put the best creation they can forward. The opposite is also true. Not every prospective author has to want to include any number of difficult subjects in their works, and that’s perfectly fine. Content creators must be free to shape the craft that they so desire without the need to be obligated to tackle every difficult issue, and so no content creator should be thought of as lesser or inferior because they opt not to include it in their works. I think that’s honestly stronger than handling an important topic poorly, or even worse, frivolously. Neither should anyone think that a content creator not including PTSD in their works means that they don’t care about those who suffer from it or for those who care about them or who simply don’t care about the subject in general. That’s just a terrible way to treat someone, and in the end, this entire excursion was about the opposite

Ultimately, this essay is a chance not only to help improve creative works involving PTSD, but to reflect on the creative process. Those who still want to proceed, by all means, do so. Hopefully this essay will help you create something that can reach someone. If every piece of work that helps portray PTSD can reach someone somewhere and make things easier, even if ever so little, well then, that’s what it’s really all about.

Hoping everyone has a peaceful Memorial Day. Be good to each to other.

SLAL

#essays on writing and worldbuilding #ptsd

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all-my-love-for-harry · 4 years

Text

Not yours.

summary: someone tries to force their way back to y/n's life and harry isn't having any of it.

word count: ----

based on these requests:

“also!! what about something angsty? maybe artemis gets hurt or something and harry is just in full on dad mode”

and

“What about caleb seeing the trio on tabloids, so he gets slightly jealous and “want’s” back into Artemis’ life unexpectedly.”

and

“ could you write something for my shy little boy about Artemis real father finding out that harry adopted him and showing up at their house claiming that Artemis is his son and basically trying to claim his rights as a father, and harry gets REALLY protective, plsss i would love that concept”

and

“Can you do one in the shy little boy universe where Artemis's dad tries to come back in his life or something. Like he sees them and he's life 'give me a second chance' . I love your writing. Thanks”

you can find more of my shy little boy here

*:･ﾟ✧ ✧ﾟ･: *:･ﾟ✧ ✧ﾟ･:

November, 2019.

Park days were the best days for the Styles family. They didn’t get to have them as much as they’d like as they were always so busy, but today was an off day and Artemis was responsible for choosing what they were going to do. And of course he chose the park.

Y/N packed some snacks in a picnic basket while Harry took the job of dressing Artemis up. Obviously Artemis ended up way too dress up for just going to the park but it wasn’t a secret Harry was crazy about them wearing the same color or matching outfits to go out.

Harry had picked a pair of white shorts and paired it with a pastel yellow polo shirt he tucked into the shorts. Artemis looked adorable although Harry knew his son most likely get the clothes dirty as soon as they arrive to the park.

“Daddy, my nose itches.” Artemis tried to take off his glasses but Harry stopped him.

Last month they had an appointment with the ophthalmologist and Artemis had to change his glasses at his doctor's request. But Artemis wasn't happy with his new ones, he was always looking for an excuse to take them off or hiding them from his parents.

"Better?" Harry asked, using his fingers to scratch softly where Artemis pointed it itched. The much smaller boy nodded. "You need the glasses, sweetheart. Don't take them off."

"I like my old ones better, why can't i have those?"

"Those doesn't work for you anymore, monkey." He explained. "C'mon, let's put your shoes on." Harry knelt in front of him to watch how Artemis ties his sneakers up, he smiled when his son made it without a problem.

"I just put the things in the car, are you ready?" Y/N said when she saw them coming down the stairs.

"Yes! Let's go, let's go!" Artemis almost jumped from the lasts steps.

Artemis rambled the entire ride about all the fun things they’d do together once they got there, constantly asking if they were at the park already. When they arrived, Harry was surprised it wasn’t so full of people, considering it was the weekend. Y/N unfolded the blanket on the grass, laying the stuff they brought.

“Daddy, let’s play.” Artemis pulled from Harry’s arm, making the latest chuckle.

“Just be careful, please. We don’t want you to fall.” Y/N remained her son, who was too busy running around with his dad.

It was a beautiful day outside, there wasn’t a single cloud in the sky, and the weather was perfect despite being in the middle of November. Harry had packed a Frisbee Artemis liked to use in their backyard and that’s what they were using to play.

Harry made sure to throw it softly at his son, not wanting the toy to hit him in the face. Artemis threw his hands in the air every time his daddy caught it.

Everything happened too fast, none of his parents could catch Artemis before he was face down on the grass. He had tried to throw the Frisbee higher but didn’t control his strength and he ended up on the floor.

Harry’s eyes grew wide as he ran towards the small child, his heart breaking as he heard his loud sobs. He picked him up from the grass and scooped him in his arms.

"Are you hurt? Where does it hurt, baby? Is it your arm?" He said, panic visible in his tone.

"He scraped his knees." Y/N said before cooing at Artemis, trying to calm him down. "Got some band aids for your knees, my love. It's okay." She took him in her arms and handed the band aids to Harry so he could put them on his boy's knees after cleaning the little blood that was there.

Caressing his hair softly, Y/N sat back down on the blanket, putting Artemis on her lap to wipe his tears off. "All better?" He nodded with a pout on his face.

Harry copied his son's pout, sitting next to them on the blanket. He didn't like seeing his love being upset, and he'd lie if he said he didn't feel a little guilty for him getting hurt.

"It's okay, accidents happen and sometimes we get hurt." Y/N said as if she could read Harry's thoughts. "What if we eat and then we can go for ice cream."

The smile reappeared on Artemis' face as he stood up from his mum's lap and cheered excitedly. Artemis ate whatever Y/N had packed for them, hurrying his parents so they could go get dessert.

"Are you okay?" Y/N asked Harry at the end of the day when Artemis was falling asleep on his daddy's shoulder as he carried him back to the car. "You've been quiet since he fell."

"Just worried. Should we take him to ER?"

"For scraped knees? Don't think so. Harry, it's fine, really. He doesn't even remember he has them." She assured. "Tomorrow it will be all better."

"But he cried so loud." He furrowed as they reached the car and Y/N opened the door of the backseat so Harry could put him on his carseat. "I was worried he hurt his elbow or something."

"I guess it was more out of surprise. He wasn't expecting to fall facedown on the floor." Once everything and everyone were in the car, Harry started to drive back home. "Please don't beat yourself up for this. It was literally an accident."

"But i was playing with him."

"Yes, but you couldn't have prevented it from happen."

She put a hand on his thigh, not wanting him to feel any worse from something so small. Artemis doesn't have a lot of accidents as he is a calm boy who doesn't play sports or anything that requires running or jumping, but when they happen, he gets scared and that's normal. No kid likes to see blood coming out of them, even if it's only a little.

"As a parent the best you can do is stay calm during these situations. If you don't panic, then he doesn't either." She smiled at him.

Y/N loved how protective Harry was, his skills as a parent never failed to show in any situation. But he was still very new at it, and he couldn't help but want to put his boy in a little bubble so nothing bad would happen to him.

*:･ﾟ✧ ✧ﾟ･: *:･ﾟ✧ ✧ﾟ･:

A week later, Y/N was cooking dinner while Artemis was upstairs in the movie room watching a cooking show on Netflix. Lately he's been obsessed with those and could watch entire seasons if his parents let him.

Harry was out having a meeting with his team but promised to be back for dinner, so it was just the two of them in the house.

The buzzer sounded, alerting someone was at the other side of the gates. Y/N put down the knife she was holding and walked towards the little screen that allowed her to see who was there.

Her breathe hitched when she saw Caleb standing there. He was looking the other way but Y/N could recognize him anywhere. A frown appeared on her face as he hit the buzzer again. She stayed in her place, starting at the screen and hoping he'd turn around and leave.

But he didn't.

She was ready to go outside and tell him to leave but she heard the gates open before she could do so. The gates opening meant Harry was home.

And home he was. But he furrowed as soon as he saw a body standing there. He didn't recognize the man but he was pretty sure he's seem his face before.

He parked inside but didn't close again the gates as he returned outside. "Can i help you?" Harry asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Is Y/N home?" The stranger asked, putting his hands inside of his pockets. "I need to speak to her."

"I'm sorry, who are you?"

"Doesn't matter, i need to see Y/N."

"Uh, it does matter, actually. Why is it so important to speak to my girlfriend?" Harry questioned again in a protective tone.

Before he could answer Harry's question, Y/N came out of the house, closing the door behind her before rushing towards the two man. She stood beside Harry, taking his hand in hers.

"What are you doing here, Caleb?" She asked and Harry's brain finally clicked. He looked so different from the only picture he's seen of him. "What do you want?"

"I need to see him, Y/N." Caleb said, almost in a demanding tone. Y/N looked up at Harry, who already had a deep, angry frown on his face. "I-I saw that video of you three at the park and... Y/N, i'm ready to meet my-"

"He's not your son." Harry barked angrily.

"Harry's right, Caleb. He's not yours in any way." She said sternly. "Besides, i bet it isn't the first video or picture you've seen of us, what could possibly make this one different?"

"I saw him getting hurt." He said defensively. "It.. awoke something in me. I want to be a father, Y/N."

"Then go ahead and get a family of your own because neither Artemis nor I have anything to do with you. Do i have to remind you, you signed the paper giving up your paternal rights?" Y/N started to get angry and Harry squeezed her hand.

"I was twenty-one, Y/N."

"So was I!" She now exclaimed.

"I think it's best if you leave." Harry spoke again, trying to control his anger before he punched that man straight on the face.

"And you are?" Caleb asked "Oh, right. You're the guy she replaced me with. Does my son calls you daddy too?"

"She didn't replace you, she just moved on with someone way better." He smirked. "And yes, my son calls me daddy, must hurt, right? Now get the fuck out of my property before i call the bloody cops."

Harry let go of Y/N's hand just to push Caleb out, not being able to hold his anger anymore. "If i ever see you close to my family, i'll fucking ruin you."

When Caleb was back on his car, Harry finally closed the gates and turned to see Y/N. "I'm sorry you had to see him, my love."

Y/N sighed. "I'm okay. I just... I hadn't seen him since he..." Her lip started trembling but she swallowed the tears. "Seeing his face brought back a lot of emotions."

"Couldn't imagine." Harry took her in his arms and kissed her forehead. "But you won't see him anymore, over my dead body."

"Thank you."

Harry smiled softly at her, supping her face with his hands and pecking her lips. "Thank you for letting me be the one by your side."

"I wouldn't dream of having anyone else."

☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁

taglist!!

@myfavfanficsever @odetostep @la-cey @cock-a-doodely-doo @awkwardbullfrog @mellamolayla @moorgannn @bagtan-serendipity @awesomebooklover17 @finelineribs @sunnybusiness @beanholland @sweetenerstyle @cronias13 @vhsharry @maisley @seasidecrowbar @stylesfics-xx @autumnpauley20 @fineline-hs1 @stephaniemalvie @immajustreadwritereblog @jadert15 @iguessweallcrazyithinktho @abundanceofsoph @harrysthicccthighs

#harry styles imagine #harry styles #harry styles imagines #harry styles one shot #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fluff #harry styles fic #harry styles angst #harry styles x you #dad!harry #stepdad!harry #harry styles fanfiction

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renaerys · 3 years

Note

Prompt 50. But Berserk & Boomer😔👉👈💕

50. “I thought you left.”

We’re calling this one Unfortunately, She Impressed Him. This is a pair of characters I love with all my heart in any flavor of relationship and can’t wait to write more of in my ongoing multi-chapter fic Trinity House over on AO3.

This fic is part of a prompt challenge that is now closed to new requests, but you can read all the completed submissions here. Reminder that the challenge is to make everything SFW, so we’re getting creative here.

xxx

Boomer was halfway across the deserted lobby of Faust Keating Rogers, LLP when he realized he’d forgotten his keys at his desk. He groaned aloud because it was 8 p.m. and no one was around to hear him because they had all gone home to their families hours ago like normal people. Boomer didn’t have two to three kids and a house in the suburbs, though, and neither did his boss. The three hour lull reserved for dinner, baths, and bedtimes before the evening work-from-home grind offered him no alternative but to power through. He fully planned to grab take out on his way home and enjoy an episode of whatever was on HBOMax before getting back to the tedious work of reviewing the draft prospectus statement his boss had sent him to proof by tomorrow morning.

Except, his keys were forty floors up and he now had to risk running into her again when he’d managed to slip away so neatly. He’d even removed his tie on the elevator ride down, and now he rubbed his exposed neck, flushed with anxiety over what might happen if she saw him and asked him to stick around to finish the work here.

“Nice going, dumbass,” he lamented as he stepped onto the elevator and hit the button for the fortieth floor.

It wasn’t that Boomer disliked his job. In fact, he didn’t mind it at all. It was better than slinging drinks or waiting tables. He had health insurance, a steady paycheck, and a resumé that could proudly display the name of one of the most elite accounting firms in the country. He could pivot his career if he wanted to, as Brick would say. Boomer wasn’t thinking about his next job right now, though. Right now, he was thinking about this one and how his boss was a hard-ass and a workaholic even if she was brilliant, and how there was a one hundred percent chance she would detect him coming back to his desk (which was annoyingly set up right in front of her office so that he could answer her calls, manage her meetings, and deal with whoever passed close enough to her event horizon to get suckered into the latest heinous audit in need of staffing).

There were his traitorous keys sitting on the desk next to the framed picture of his brothers. He glared at them, as if they were a forgotten household item that had developed a supernatural grudge like in those old Japanese folktales he liked to read online. He half expected them to jingle and alert his boss to his presence, just to spite him.

They didn’t, and he slipped them into his pocket as quietly as could be. He released the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding and took a beat. It was quiet. Most of the offices were dark, save for a few poor souls in the large conference room stuck on the ongoing year-end audit for one of the firm’s most important clients: Unicorn, Inc. His boss’s office was also lit up behind her closed door, but she hadn’t called out to him like she would during the day when he got back from his lunch break hoping for a few minutes to catch up on emails in peace before she dumped more work on him.

This, of course, was odd. The small legion of assistants who had come before Boomer were notorious for their short-term employment working this specific desk. The work was demanding and so was the boss, but there was something else that set her apart from other senior associates in the International Tax Services division, something that seemed to intimidate away any support the higher ups sent her way. Denise a couple desks down had warned Boomer not to bring too many personal effects to the office; chances were he wasn’t going to last long. Boomer had smiled thinly and thanked Denise for her advice, and brought the picture of his brothers in the next morning because he had his pride and Brick told him it was healthy to indulge that once in a while. Brick would certainly know.

So here he was, uncertain. Anxiety over having to sit here for another two hours finishing work and having tepid Doordash delivered pulled him toward the elevator and escape, while that annoying, rare pride demanded he check on his boss and make sure she knew he was here to support her, lest she get the idea that he needed to be fired.

The longer he stood there, indecisive, the greater his curiosity grew. What was she doing in there? It was quiet, even when he strained his Super hearing. He could hear Dean Matheson pouring whiskey a few offices down (that guy had a drinking problem and everyone knew they only kept him around because he had the Unicorn, Inc. account), Adebayo Hansou on a conference call with Dubai that was escalating to profanity, Shelly Kim with her head down and typing away at an Excel spreadsheet like a pro. Their assistants were long gone for the night, but here was Boomer, loitering and indecisive and what is she doing in there not yelling at me when she definitely knows I’m here?

He couldn’t take it anymore. He knocked on the closed door—rap, rap, rap—and called out softly, “Berserk?”

A beat, then: “Come in.”

Finding his boss in upward facing dog while still in her pencil skirt was not a sight Boomer was prepared for. Berserk had her eyes closed as she stretched at a near ninety degree angle and listened to music on her Airpods. Boomer had never seen her with her heels off and her mane of red hair thrown together in a messy bun; it was so casual that it was almost obscene.

“You’re staring.”

Fuck, he was staring and now she was looking right at him down her nose, even though she was the one on the floor. He stood up straighter, unable to help himself when she took that tone that reminded him so much of Brick’s when he was about to criticize, but he didn’t avert his gaze. “Sorry.”

She breathed in deeply through her nose and hoisted herself up into downward dog position. “Why are you here?”

Forgot my keys seemed like a really lame excuse that she’d probably laugh at him for, but he also was not in the habit of making shit up on the spot if he hoped to make people believe him. “I forgot my keys.” He took them from his pocket to show her, as if she might not know what keys are, as a concept.

“Smart locks.” Berserk exhaled and slowly walked her hands back on the yoga mat until she reached her feet and began to swing slowly left and right.

Huh? he almost said like an idiot, until he caught himself. “Don’t think my landlord would approve of me installing that.” Also, those things were like $200 a pop, which was not worth the occasional inconvenience and shame of forgetting his keys and then catching his boss doing yoga in her office after hours.

Berserk made some noncommittal sound like whatever, peasant and slowly uncurled upward one vertebra at a time. Boomer realized he was back to staring again, literally lingering in her door watching her and trying to equate this subdued, casual version of Berserk with the terse, no-nonsense businesswoman he was used to dealing with on a daily basis.

When she finally achieved her full height, she popped her neck. The hair that was too short for her bun fell in around her narrow face in a stylish, athleisure sort of way. The top buttons on her blouse were undone. She wore a small, golden necklace he’d never noticed before because he wasn’t in the habit of checking out his boss. “I thought you left.”

The accusatory nature of her words were totally at odds with her flat tone, only the barest hint of curiosity dangling there at the end, like she expected him to respond.

Oh, she expected him to respond.

Boomer took another step into her office because he was full of poor judgment today. “I forgot my keys.”

At which point he showed her his keys again and also had a mild stroke, because what the fuck are you doing, mate?

Berserk smiled. “Yeah, I got that part.”

Was she laughing at him? He had never heard her laugh before, unless it was at Dean Matheson, that comb-over in denial who, in addition to being a high functioning alcoholic, also had a reputation for throwing associates under the bus when a client wasn’t happy.

Boomer smiled back, because that was what he did when people smiled at him, and ‘people’ now included Berserk, apparently.

“Well, since you’re here,” she said as she padded around to her desk.

Crap, there was the work he was afraid of soliciting from her by remaining in the building. He debated an excuse to give her: picking up dry cleaning? Plausible, but transparent. Meeting up with his brothers? No, she’d probably make him stay all night for the chance to ruin Brick’s plans.

“Thai or Mexican?”

Boomer stared dumbly. He was becoming quite good at that (10,000 hours and you can become an expert at anything, they say). “Huh?”

The yoga must have put Berserk in an exceedingly gracious mood, because she actually repeated her question without getting that look on her face like she was picturing him getting trampled by stampeding monsters. “Thai or Mexican? I don’t have a preference.”

Oh.

Boomer’s stomach picked that time to snarl at him—8 p.m. and still no dinner, the fiend.

Berserk snorted in laughter and fanned herself with her phone. “Jesus. Mexican it is.”

Which was how Boomer found himself on the small sofa tucked in the corner of Berserk’s office, shoes off and belt loosened, with enough tacos, tamales, and rice and beans to feed a small family. He even had a beer from the mini fridge Berserk kept under her desk.

She hadn’t stayed late to work. Well, she had, but only because she didn’t have a reason to go home.

“I just hate getting home to a dark apartment sometimes,” she said in between bites of food. She had her legs tucked up under her on the sofa close enough to brush Boomer’s thigh if he reached to grab the salsa.

“I thought you lived with your sister?”

“Brute got her own place a few months ago. The arrangement was only temporary while she was in between jobs.”

It was weird knowing so little about a person whose whole family had been in Boomer’s inner orbit since childhood. As far as he knew, Berserk wasn’t close to any of her cousins, not even Blossom. Boomer himself had never been more eager to leave a room than when Brat walked into it. Only Butch, Brute, and Buttercup had ever found common ground among each other once the sworn rivalries and blood feuds of their youth gave way to teenage rebellion against their respective overlord fathers and then the slog of adulthood that was inescapable even for a bunch of Supers flying high on Chemical X.

The fact that Boomer had gotten this job surprised him more than anyone. After drifting from restaurant jobs to office temp placements over the last six years, he’d never thought he would dust off his economics degree and land a temp-to-permanent position that seemed way above his qualifications. And he never thought it would be working for a woman he’d most definitely electrocuted in battle at least a dozen times before puberty.

“What?”

Boomer blinked. He’d been staring again, Jesus Christ. “Sorry, I was just thinking… I didn't know that. I’ve been working here for five months and I don’t actually know much about you at all.”

“Hm.”

Her magenta eyes were wine-dark against the murky sky beyond the window forty stories up. Boomer did avert his gaze this time to reach for the salsa, but he didn’t use it.

“I don’t even know why you invited me to stay for dinner in the office if we’re not going to do any work.”

“Why did you stay?”

“For the free food.”

Berserk grinned—the third time she had smiled at him tonight (or ever). He needed to stop counting; he’d be disappointed when it stopped happening tomorrow.

“Don’t get used to it. Much as I appreciate the company now and again, there’s no need for both of us to be stuck here while Matheson’s breathing down the associates’ necks. Can’t have him poaching you out from under me.”

“Well, I don’t work for him; I work for you.”

“It’s sweet how you don’t understand office politics.” She ate a lone slice of avocado with a fork. “He landed Unicorn back when they were early stage, and back when he was still putting in the work to earn his reputation. But since they IPO’d three years ago and make up twenty percent of our revenue now, he’s just another big name coasting by on associate work. You know he regularly schedules client calls and just doesn’t bother to show up? He forgets half the time, and the other half he’s busy playing golf or buying a yacht or whatever the fuck rich, white Boomers do.”

“Well, as a Boomer myself, I can say I’ve spent exactly zero hours buying yachts.”

She chuckled. Fourth time. “Oh, really.”

“Never even thought of yachts. As far as I’m concerned, they’re not even real.”

“Thanks for your expert opinion.”

“Any time.” Boomer turned his body to face her and draped his arm over the back of the sofa. With only the soft light from the floor lamp in the corner, he imagined himself adrift in the darkness, the sky scraper lights nearby stars. It was a lonely thought, one made romantic in the knowledge that she was here too, and he wasn’t actually alone.

“Matheson almost did poach you, you know.”

“What do you mean?” Boomer couldn’t recall exchanging more than a few words with the man.

“When we were filling support positions. Someone recognized you from the news a few years back, when the Cyclops Monster attacked the marina district and you and your brothers took it out. Matheson got it in his head that you’d be able to work at Super speed and help lower his billables.”

“Wow. Maybe you should’ve let him. What do you think the net savings would be in yacht units of measurement?”

Berserk rolled her eyes, but she was smiling again. “I claimed you before he could get the paperwork in.”

Boomer hyper-focused on that word: claimed. He also pointedly ignored it entirely, much in the same way he ignored the new count of five smiles tonight. “Showed him your bending powers, did you?”

Berserk’s Corona bottle turned frosty under her hand in a totally unnecessary, big dick energy display of said powers, and she took another sip. “No. Sharon from HR likes me. And I promised her I wouldn’t fire you after three months like your predecessors.”

Flattered was not how Boomer would describe the feeling of being claimed by Berserk and eluding Matheson’s vampiric clutches. But he was a bit tickled all the same. This was the woman Butch had once described as essentially Brick, if he were constipated all the time.

And then he realized what she was doing. “Hey, you’re sharing things about yourself.”

She clinked her bottle to his, and Boomer shivered at the frosty chill she transferred on contact. “Aw, you figured it out all by yourself.”

“Ha ha.”

She didn’t quite smile, but she did look kind of serene then, content even, as she lay back against the arm of the sofa and yawned. Her gold necklace—just a simple disk with an engraving Boomer could not make out—reflected the lamp light when she moved. It rested just beneath her collarbone, which had suddenly become the single-most interesting part of Berserk, and oh no, was he interested—

“You’re staring again.”

Son of a bitch.

“Sorry,” he said automatically. “I didn’t mean to.”

Hard no. He was not allowed to be any percent attracted to Berserk. First, she was his boss, and there was a cliché here that, while subverted on the gender role spectrum, was still very risky for both of them. Second, she was Berserk, a fellow Super, cousin to his best friend Bubbles and a shrewd, stiletto bitch in Brick’s estimation, which sounded bad. Not that she was bad, or even evil, unless you counted helping rich corporations accurately report their taxes while taking advantage of the many egregious loopholes in the Internal Revenue Code. Which, okay, point taken, but he also worked here and anyway, people should not be deemed good or evil so much as their choices ought to be—

“Are you thinking about fucking me?”

You shrewd, stiletto bitch!

She was smiling again, and Boomer pathetically logged that as the sixth time, although he wasn’t sure he should count it given the overt malice behind it.

Unfortunately, Boomer was, as had been previously established, very bad at making shit up on the fly. So he miserably said, “Yeah.”

“Hm.”

She sipped her beer slowly, and of course he watched. If it was out in the open, as fleeting a bout of insanity as it may have been, at least he could wallow in it without worrying about appearances.

It was the yoga. That fucking upward facing dog, Jesus Christ.

It was more than that too. Over the last few months, he had worked closely with her, watched her navigate the cutthroat halls full of piranhas like Matheson and other account managers, getting herself work on the best clients while managing her juniors with efficiency and professionalism. She was excellent and sharp, and she demanded excellency and sharpness in kind. After years of going it alone or temping for bosses who didn’t care enough even to learn his name, much less provide him with guidance and mentorship, it was an unspeakable relief to work under someone who knew how to rally the troops. Someone who knew how to lead, how to motivate, and how to reward loyalty with loyalty in return. It didn’t hurt that she looked amazing in her daily stilettos, either.

Unfortunately, she impressed him.

“I have some work to get done tonight.” Berserk stood up and smoothed her skirt.

Boomer scrambled to his feet. “Of course! Um.” He began closing food containers and repackaging them in the bags they’d come in, because he was panicking. “I’ll get rid of the trash. Do you want the leftovers in the fridge?”

“You take them. Otherwise my office will smell like a burrito for a week.”

“Okay.” Numbly, Boomer finished packing everything up, while Berserk made her way back to her desk and logged into her computer to check her emails.

Boomer lingered at the door. “I’ll have the prospectus back to you later tonight.”

“Thanks.”

Wow, way to go, stud.

He turned to leave, but her voice stopped him.

“Boomer?”

“Yeah?”

“Friday is good.”

He stared back at her in expert mode. “Huh?”

Berserk poked her head around the side of her large, external monitor. She was smiling again. Lucky number seven. “For fucking.”

“Okay,” Boomer said.

Okay?!

She pulled back behind her monitor. “I was going to get a cat, but you’ll do much better.”

Because she didn’t like going home to a dark, empty apartment alone. With no one to fuck.

“That was a joke.”

“Yeah, I got that,” he croaked.

Friday is for fucking, he thought, which was delightful alliteration and also completely insane and one hundred percent something he was getting more on board with by the nanosecond.

“See you tomorrow,” she said.

Boomer clutched the leftover Mexican food in his fist. “Okay. Goodnight.”

It took him the time to fly home and put the food away in his small fridge to realize that he had a sort-of date with Berserk lined up for two days from now.

He Y-posed at the window and whooped, “Hell yes!!”

Loud pounding in the floor followed by old Mrs. Cruikshank’s muffled Keep it down! couldn’t bring down his mood.

Boomer leaped onto his threadbare, living room sofa with his work laptop and took to the prospectus with alacrity. He’d send over superior work product and make Berserk’s job just that much easier tomorrow morning.

xxx

If you enjoy my writing, check out more of my fics on AO3, link in my profile. I’m currently updating Trinity House (which has a lot more Berserk and Boomer content, btw!) and The Alchemy of Us. Thanks for reading!

#powerpuff girls #powerpuff girls fanfic #bersoomer #ppg berserk #ppg boomer #september fic prompts #so this turned into a 3k one shot because i love these characters and i couldn't help myself #tfw considering a part 2

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dapandapod · 3 years

Text

Jaskier needs a hug

Honestly, @the-glorious-half-pints-twin, this started out as your prompt and morphed into something else. Im intending to write your prompt more properly because it’s super cute ang got Soft Potential that I crave.

But this is not what brain did today, so this is looooooosely based on your prompt, with another on it’s way.

In the mean time, please have goofy random cuddles with a Dramatic Jaskier and Geralt with.. kind of a sense of humor?

Anyway, please enjoy! On Aoe here!

~~*~~

It’s been weeks. Months. Years.

Yes, Jaskier is dramatic, what do you want?! Point is, Jaskier needs a hug. Just a hug. Arms around him, or his arms around somewhere else. He isn’t fuzzy, but frankly, there isn’t too much to hug around these parts.

All the good ladies are taken (it’s not much of a problem but Geralt uses that unhappy frown on him for days if he goes for it), most of the men lack most of their teeth (not really required for hugging, but that is usually not their only problem) and in general, most people he met wanted hugs to go somewhere behind closed doors.

Not that Jaskier minds, but he really, really just wants a hug.

What’s left in options is various monsters, trees, Roach and that one Witcher that accompanies her. Yes, he is talking about Geralt, keep up.

Monsters, depending on the kind, would probably give him a great hug. Only once though, because he would likely die from it. To be honest, the trees weren't so bad. The trick is to choose correctly, and when Geralt comes looking for him he claims he is lost. It worked twice, after that Geralt tied a rope around his middle to keep him from straying. If he tries to hug Roach he will meet one out of two outcomes. If not both.

Roach will bite him. Or Geralt will bite him.

And that likely applies if Jaskier actually would work up the nerve to actually try to hug that giant frown of a man.

So yes, Jaskier is grumpy, Jaskier is dramatic, and Jaskier wallows in these two moods and expresses it like an artform. Drapes it around his being like a fashionable cape. Swirls it around himself as he turns, dazzling all around him with grump and drama.

He really doesn’t expect Geralt to pick up the root of the problem. That might not even be what is going in, but three days into moping (because let’s be honest, that’s what this is) Geralt tires of the entire thing.

They are watering Roach just a little way off the main road. Jaskier is sighing loudly, kicking at the leaves and high grass and anything that happens to stick up.

He still has the rope around the middle, courtesy of his latest try to hug a tree, and suddenly there is a tug.

“Stop.”

Tug.

“Quit it.”

Tug tug.

“Fucking… What?? Geralt??” Jaskier turns around, all flare, to give Geralt a taste of that glare he may or may not try to be copying from said witcher.

There is this really tacky dance move Jaskier has seen at very very late night festivals. When one person refuse to dance, and the other pretends to pull at a rope to bring them to the dancefloor.

Picture this, but nobody is dancing and there is actually a rope.

Geralt is pulling Jaskier closer, looking all serious and stone faced and how else you wish to describe that dumb dumb face of his.

“What are you- Why?! What are you doing?” Jaskier doesn’t struggle, but he doesn’t really cooperate either. Just like that dance move he ends up being dragged over to Geralt.

They stand only an arms width away from each other, Roach moved from the creek to graze at the grass, ignoring them completely.

Jaskiers pulse speeds up. Last time Geralt asked him to come closer and Jaskier blindly complied, he earned himself a punch in the gut. On the other hand, this time Geralt physically pulled him closer.

Should he...possibly.. maybe try to hug Geralt?

Before he gets the chance to try, Geralt grabs his shoulders with both hands and looks at him gravely.

“Jaskier.”

“Yes?”

“You stink.”

And toss him straight into the creek.

It’s not very deep, but it’s enough to completely soak him as he falls face first. He swallows one big mouthful of muddy water, he spits and coughs with loud protests and moaning.

“THIS IS SUPPOSED TO MAKE ME SMELL BETTER?! ARE YOU DAFT?!”

He rises from the creek like a water hag, water dripping from all of his expensive clothes. He marches straight up to Geralt, heart set on revenge.

Yeah, Geralt weighs a ton. Have you seen the guy? He is huge, and even if he isn’t traveling in his armor it is impossible to get a good grip. Geralt is entirely too good at steering off attacks.

Fine.

Jaskier doesn’t fear death.

So he marches straight back into that creek.

Falls into it, hugs it if you will, and turns around again all soaking wet.

Take aim.

Launch.

And throws himself at Geralt. Not in the intent of trying to push Geralt in the water, but with the intent to bring as much water on Geralt as he can. Like a sponge.

Either Geralt did not anticipate this course of action, or he accepted it. Kind of.

There is some slapping and flailing but then Jaskier presses himself against Geralt's side, wrapping his arms around his chest and clenching that stupid (and STINKY, Geralt! Take a bath!!) tunic and soaking it as best he can.

“Hah!” Jaskier is so pleased with himself, he throws a leg around Geralt and dries himself off like a dog on grass, rubbing his hair and face against Geralt's shoulder.

So it takes him a moment to realize that Geralt is laughing.

He stops, looks up in wonder. No, not looking, staring. Geralt is laughing, throwing his head back that gives him that adorable little double chin.

Jaskier doesn’t let go.

Of course not. This is way better than hugging a tree.

“Done moping now? Idiot.” Geralt puts a hand on his forehead and shoves him off. Jaskier is too busy staring at that smile to struggle. There are wet patches on his tunic so Geralt takes it off in a smooth motion.

“What do you say, we make camp here for today? Wash our clothes and clean up? I'm sure they will put away the pitchforks in the village if we don’t announce ourselves by smelling. ...Uh. Earth to Jaskier? Hellooo?”

Jaskier is not done staring. Smiles and bare chest will do that to a man. But he closes his mouth at least, so that is an improvement.

It takes a few minutes to get his brain functions back.

During that time Geralt takes off Roaches gear and she goes a bit further away to find more tasty things to eat.

They actually get around to bathe and clean their clothes. They bask in the warm sun, laying in the grass and just enjoy the nature around them and each other's company.

Jaskier seeking revenge probably doesn’t count as a hug, but he will take it. It feels a bit better and he is ready to hang the Cloak of Dramatics on the rack for a while and just enjoy the moment.

But again, Geralt surprises him.

As they prepare for settle in for the night, rolling out their bedrolls (with a respectable distance, thank you very much) Geralt sits against a tree and leans back.

Again, Geralt tugs him closer. This time by the tunic that he got to borrow, pulling him straight down between Geralt's knees and capturing him in a bear hug.

Two hugs. In one day.

“Uh… Geralt?”

Jaskier doesn’t dare to move, not daring to wrap his arms around the witcher. They are chest to chest, Geralt holding him in an iron grip.

“Yes?” Geralt mutters, holding him just a little closer.

“Are you.. Why are you hugging me?”

It feels like his chest is swelling three sizes, a tingling sensation spreading through his limbs, closely followed by a warmth.

“I'm not.”

It’s Jaskiers time to chuckle.

“Oh really?”

“Mmhm.”

Geralts offers up absolutely nothing, but Jaskier now dares to let his arms circle around Geralt's shoulder with a soft sigh. Not the restless, dramatic and grumpy kind that he did before, but a content exhale.

“I really needed this.” Jaskier admits to Geralt's shoulder There is no way he is telling Geralt, he has been behaving really badly today.

“No shit. I absolutely didn’t notice you hugging everything in your immediate vicinity.” Geralt drawls sarcastically.

Geralt's warm, callused hand finds its way under Jaskiers tunic. Little electric sparks climbing up his spine and he buries his head in Geralt's neck.

Up until this very point, this could very much be something one friend does for another.

Still could be.

But also not.

And if there is one thing Jaskier wouldn’t mind, it’s that.

Only, he is afraid it will go away if he points it out.

Jaskier has seen it one too many times before.

And Geralt is the one person he does not wish to lose. His heart is beating hard, with every breath he takes in the (now much better) smell of his friend, breathing him in deep.

“Are you sniffing me?” Shit.

“No.” Jaskier says and yelps when Geralt pinches his side.

“Fine, fucking… yes. So what. You smell good.”

Geralt falls weirdly quiet and Jaskier has time to have a small internat panic attack and prepare to be shoved away.

“You can sniff me if you want.” Geralt says quietly.

They are stock still in each other's arms. It’s an odd thing to do, an odd thing to say. Jaskier finally caves and pushes his face a little deeper in the crook of Geralt's neck.

Geralt's hands climb higher over Jaskiers' back, and he leans his head against Jaskiers.

“You smell good too.” Jaskier almost dies. “Well. Now you do. Before the bath, not so much.”

“Fuck you.” Jaskier chuckles.

“Nah. Would be real awkward in the morning.” Geralt says, and again they both freeze. Yeah, this is one weird night.

They don’t say anything more after this. Just sits there under the tree, listening to the evening birds and Roachs munching in the distance.

And if they pulled their bedrolls closer together, and slept with their legs tangled, and woke up too warm curled together, that is just what friends do for each other when you feel lonely.

Probably not.

But that is not a conversation they are ready to have.

For now, there are only hugs.

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