#i realize the might be confusing cause i didn’t use their names | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

1800jjbarnes · 6 months

Text

◇ 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟏𝟓 : 𝐂𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐮𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 - 𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬 ◇

God Isn't Here

【Synopsis】 : Bad Boy Bucky wanted to change for you. Be the better man you deserved, but what if you ended up changing more than him?

『W.C』 : 3.70k

-> ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: Slice of Life. Toxic family. Smut. ANGST. Sad Stuff.

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: BadBoy!Bucky x Religious!GoodGirl!Reader

[ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs] : Heavy religious background. Mention of a cult like life. Lots of trauma. Pet names. Swearing. Corruption and slight manipulation. Thigh riding. Dry humping. Oral. Crying turned to sobbing. (I'm sorry this is a shit show). Fingering. Sight sir kink (I can't help myself). When I say this is messy….this is MESSY, FILTHY, DIRTY. Breast play. Clothing is literally being ripped apart. Slight ass play and mention of anal. Hickies. Mention of sex toys. There is way too much dirty talk cause Bucky has a filthy mouth. Use of the name slut. So much sobbing, please forgive me. Cowgirl. Unprotected sex. Loss of virginity. Spanking.

Masterlist | Kinktober List

Perfection. That was what your family described you as. Their perfect little daughter. Naturally pretty, above-average smarts and a people person. Well, that was what your parents dressed you as. They weren't half wrong to be fair. You wanted nothing more than to be the sweet daughter that your parents wanted. But once your heart fell for the mysterious man that stumbled in the back of your bookshop one day. Perfect was no longer the description to view you as.

Rough, mysterious, heartbreaking, bad boy. He looked like he jumped straight out of a dark romance novel. He was everything you were not, and when he laid eyes on you, he knew he wanted to know you, have you, hold you. To fuck the innocence out of you. But he proceeded with caution. Not wanting to scare you away. He was known as a player, someone that fucked around and partied most weekends…

Yet he changed.

Changed for you. He dotted on you. Followed you around like a loving puppy that found his favourite thing in the world. Which he had. You were his everything and the love of his life, and he would do anything for you. And he made sure you knew that every chance he could. Bringing you flowers to your work or gifting you with a home-cooked meal even though he wasn’t the greatest cook. He wanted you to know that he loves you. Forever and always. And when you were cuddling on the couch in your shared apartment―the apartment your parents didn’t know you had―one night, Bucky couldn’t seem to keep his hands to himself. He tried not to do something you didn’t want but fucking his fist to the thought of you was no longer working. He needed the real deal. And tonight he tried his luck. His touches were slow, sensual. You almost didn’t notice them while you were so focused on the new show Fionna and Cake in front of you. But when his fingertips grazed the end of your sleep shorts, your head snapped to him seeing he was completely focused on you, not even paying attention to the TV.

You gulped, looking at him with such wide innocent eyes. The tingle in your gut made you confused, but it also intrigued you, wanting to know what it was, but you were also scared it might be considered unholy. You see, you were fighting an inner battle. Yes, you had left your family's practice and ran away with Bucky after he convinced you of your family's toxic lifestyle. You wouldn’t ever consider your life being involved around a cult-like community, but yet it was all you knew. And when you opened a bookshop in your hometown, your parents made sure to monitor the shop like hawks, but neither of them would have thought someone like James Bucky Barnes would stumble into the doors of the sweet establishment. Without even realizing it, that day you started losing your faith in god, if you even had any. It was just a way of life to you and you didn’t know any better back then but now you explore the world day by day with your sweet lover boy and god definitely didn’t have anything to do with that.

“W-what are you doing?” As if you couldn’t sound any more cute than you did right this minute. His blue eyes darkened, sucking in a breath as he watched you squirm. Your doe eyes watched him intensely, your hand snaking down to grab his, holding him still. Did you really not know what teasing was? Then again, you didn’t know most things until he came along. When he first kissed you, he still remembers the shocked expression you made and how you slapped his chest slightly saying ‘We aren’t supposed to do that.’ But now all you do is kiss him. Morning kisses, hello and goodbye kisses. If you walked into the room, he would grab you for a smooch. He loved kissing you, and even though you would not admit it, you craved them too.

“I’m just wanting to touch you, Doll.” His soft voice sent shivers down your spine. You gulped, not knowing what exactly he meant. You gave him a confused expression, and it finally clicked in his head that you didn’t know what was going on. “Can I touch you, baby?”

You smiled letting his hand slip into your own, tilting your head “But you are touching me Jamie.”

Oh fuck, you look so goddamn cute and it made him want to pin you to the couch and fuck you into next week. He wanted, needed to teach you this side of life you didn’t know about. Take it slow, Bucky repeated to himself, placing his hand free hand on top of yours. He closed the distance between your lips but just kept enough space to let you pick whether or not to actually kiss him. And when you gave him a simple smile before sealing your soft lips on his, he took it as a green light to push you further.

“I mean touch sensually...” He peaked your lips again. “Touch you where the ache it.” He kissed the corner of your mouth as both of his hands got free, letting his finger graze your top thigh before slowly slipping towards your inner thigh. Your eyes never left his, eyebrows knotting in anticipation. Your brain was screaming at you, saying what you were about to do was sinful and bad. But your body craved to see what he could do. Could he really help take that ache that pulses in your stomach away? The idea of giving yourself to Bucky more than frightened you… it excited you.

“What are you gonna do to me?” You didn’t mean to sound so seductive, but Bucky drank every word you spoke. And the way you said it would have any man eating out of your hand, yet you didn’t even notice. Merely thinking you were simply asking an innocent question.

“Oh, Darling.” He dipped his fingers further up your thigh, helping you open your legs without a thought, too focused on what Bucky might say. And he thought, for maybe two point five seconds on what he might say. Does he ease in and take it slow like his brain has been repeating for the past month, or does he just drop his filter and see how you react?

He chose to fuck around and find out….

“I want to put my fingers deep inside your pussy.” Your eyes widened at the lewd words that spilled off your lover's tongue. “I want to know what it feels like to fuck you, make love to you.” His fingertips graze your covered core and it makes you jump, whimpering out. You gripped his wrist trying to stop him but you didn’t move him away, too curious to see what he’d do. “Would you let me see what your cunt feels like angel?”

“Y-you can't make l-love to me yet. We aren't married.” That was what you took out of his whole confession. Man has got his work cut out for him. He had to laugh a low, deep grumble, making you shiver. His fingers were still playing with your covered core, trying to pull at the buttons of your pants. “We haven't decided if we want kids yet.”

“Kids?” Okay, now he was the one confused, “Who said anything about kids, Doll?”

“Y-you know…” damn now you feel stupid, of course, this was another thing your parents taught you wrong. You tried to learn things on your own, only just recently finding out what a male privates were called. You felt so small in this outside world, and you tried your hardest not to let Bucky see just how closed off you were growing up, but sometimes it slips out, just like now. And the only way to get out of this was to explain yourself. “You only mate to have bare children. No pleasure or love… it’s a ritual that a married couple performs to conceive kids.”

Bucky tried not to look shocked, but then again, he really wasn't. When he found out you were living in cult-like conditions, he did everything in his power to get you out of that situation whether you liked him to or not. He couldn’t just leave such a sweet thing like you to be devoured by the jaws of a sick bastard who played a so-called god. “My sweet, sweet baby. There is so much more to love-making than bearing children. Do you want me to show you?”

He gave you one last slow kiss, holding your cheek with his free hand, keeping you in place. You sigh in the kiss, feeling a kind of relief and safety. All he wanted to do was keep you comfortable and not do anything you were unsure of. But now you wanted to give back. Give back to his kindness and understanding. You wanted to know, to know what it felt like to be with someone completely. But your mind kept playing the idea that you were betraying your god. You were fighting an inner battle, and you didn’t know what to do. “Y-You can s-show me B-Bucky.”

He shifted his weight, turning to look at you straight on. He placed both hands on either side of your face before asking again. “I need you to say yes, baby. Do you want this? Are you sure?”

“Yes.” You might have said that a little too quickly for your liking, but Bucky. Oh, he’d been waiting for this moment, and it couldn’t be any more perfect. Grabbing your hips, he pulls you up onto his lap. Your face was flustered a bright red. Your hands instantly gripped onto his shoulders as his own snakes under your loose top, feeling your bare tummy. He kisses you on your lips, then a peck on your cheek, then jaw. Before moving down to your neck. His hot tongue licked a long strip against your skin, making you shiver, digging your fingers into his shirt. He chuckled, feeling your hips wiggle, trying to subconsciously relieve the ache. He held your hip with his right hand, helping you move slowly, letting you take control for the moment. He wanted to ease you in, let you find your rhythm. “J-James I f-feel.”

“Feel what baby? What do you feel?” He pulled away to look at you, using his free metal hand to slowly move down your navel before landing just above your core. Your eyes stayed closed, rocking your hips slowly. Your clit was brushing against your jeans just right and it was sending your head into a spin. You didn’t know how to describe the feeling but it felt, good. Right, almost. And then he cupped your pussy making you jump.

“I feel hot… I think I-I’m sweating d-down….” You looked down, seeing his hand holding your core. He looked down to, knowing exactly what you were saying. Chuckling against, he rubbed his two cold metallic middle fingers along your covered slit.

“It’s not sweat, Doll. It’s called cum. It comes out of you when you’re feeling good.” he continued to rub you making your mouth fall agape slightly. He leaned towards your ear kissing the top of your neck before whispering. “and it tastes delicious too. Can you give me a taste baby?”

You hesitantly nodded, “Yes, but is…” He looks at you in your wide eyes. “ W-what about g-gods w…”

“Fuck god. He doesn’t know a good thing if it was staring at him in the face.” His voice was laced with aggression. But his lips against your neck were soft, gentle. “Forget god, baby. It’s just you and me.”

You and me…. Something he has said to you since you met. Sneaking out, he always said it was you and him against the world and the day you had packed your bag―with what little you had―and left while your parents were out, you knew he’d be there for you. You still wonder if your parents even read the note you left them. But then again, they most likely would have thrown it away, not caring for a sinner like you anymore. “I don’t know if I c-can…Bucky…”

He stopped. For a moment. Anger was surging through him. Your family fucked you up so much and all he wanted to was find each and every one of those preachers and kill them where they stood. He wanted to protect you, hold you. Love you. “Yes you can angel. You can do anything you want. You are so strong.”

And with that, you kiss him, taking in a big breath in through your nose. He pulled away first, making you chase his lips, but as his body sank onto the floor, making you watched with curiosity. He sat on his knees, never breaking eye contact with you. His hands find the buttons on your jean shorts, helping you loosen them before ultimately slipping them off. Everything was happening so fast yet so slowly as well. your body was shaking, feeling exposed without your pants, but as his gaze switched from yours to your core between your legs, you couldn’t help but whimper. “James…”

“It’s okay baby I’m going to make you feel good. I promise.” He lent in pushing your panties to the sides and finally getting a good view of your soaked cunt. “Fuck, you are so pretty baby.” he wasted no time in licking a long strip along your folds making you make a high-pitched noise that was music to Bucky's ears. He got to work, suckling, biting and tending to your core. You had thrown your head back against the couch, grabbing your lover's thick dark hair and spreading your legs wider for him without realizing. A strange feeling was brewing in your lower tummy and you couldn’t find the words to explain it. You were feeling all types of emotions, happiness, guilt, hatred, lust and everything in between. And then Bucky took his fingers against your core making you jump.

“Bucky, w-wait…” But your lover didn’t listen cause he knew you’d just start talking about god again. He needed you to listen to him and if words weren't going to work. Maybe a demonstration would. His mouth cages your clit while his finger begins to sink into you slowly and you felt electricity surge through you. Everything you did for your parents. The little girl that “raised right” was slowly slipping away and it was terrifying you. Tears started prickling down your face, feeling so good but so guilty at the same time. Why did your parents have to do what they did to you? Why couldn’t they have raised you normally? Were you could make your own mistakes. You hated them. You hated everything. Everything except Bucky. “G-god…”

You didn’t know what you wanted to say, but you knew he wasn’t going to listen. In fact, he snapped instead, making a chill pool inside you. “God isn’t here baby, now let me have my meal. Got that?”

“Yes sir…” You cried, feeling him put another finger inside you.

“Fuck say that again…” He groan against your clit.

“S-Sir…” You obeyed, feeling his fingers thrusted in a harsh pace, making you scream out, tears pouring out of you more and more with your mouth spilling out saliva onto your chin.

“That’s right, baby. This is my pussy yeah? I get to play with her―Fuck her whenever I want. Do you understand?” He chuckled, nibbling on your puffy nub.

“Y-yes sir. Please, have me whenever you’d like. I’ll be good. I promise. Fffuuck!!” You’ve never sworn before, but it felt like a word needed for this occasion. A band in you snapped, feeling yourself clench around Bucky's fingers. He slowed down until he came to a stop, but not pulling his fingers out just yet. He had to see your face, the way your nose scrunched up when his thumb pressed firmly on your clit and fingers slowly slipping from inside you helping your ride out your high. Hearing you swear was single-handedly the sexiest thing you could do. He stood up quickly, grabbing your wrist so he could pull you up making you stand. But your legs didn’t want to work so he had to hold you up.

“Don’t worry, baby. You’re always good, baby. My sweet girl.” he pecked your nose, making you smile. He rubbed away some of your tears with his left thumb. You both stood there for a moment, letting you catch your breath. But without you noticing, he undid his belt and jean buttons, shaking his jeans off. You only then noticed when a hard object poked your tummy. Looking down, you see his appendage under his boxers. You had to gulp worried as to how it might fit inside you. He licked his lips watching you inspect him, he had no shame, slipping his thumb under the band of his boxer before pulling it down, letting his cock spring free.

You gasped, seeing his dick whack his navel. Its red angry tip leaking out some pre-cum and twitching just at the thought you’d touch it. You looked back at his eyes with wide doe eyes, almost silently asking what was going to happen next. He swung you both around so his back was facing the couch before taking a seat on it. He pulled you along, letting you take a seat on his lap. The feeling of his hot cock against your pussy made you clench around nothing. Your nerves were shot and you were shaking with a mixture of fear and excitement.

“Ready?” He simply asked, snaking his hands under your top tugging on the fabric slightly. You nodded, answering with a small yes before he took the end of your shirt and ripped it down the middle. You gasped, moaning without thinking. Your chest was suddenly exposed to him, leaving you completely bare for him. He had a sadistic smirk painting his features, leaning down he licked your left nipple making you whimper out his name. Your hands found his shoulders, letting him attack your chest with harsh red and purple marks. His hands that layed on your hips moved behind you. One grabbed a hand full of your ass while the other one glided toward your asshole. He put pressure against your hole, and it made you wiggle in his grasp. He lived for your reaction.

“Sensitive Doll? I wonder what I would feel like to fuck this tight little ass too? Hmm.” His dirty words made you feel filthy in the best way. His thumb slipped into your puckered hole for a moment sending a new feeling through your system. Anything he did was pushing your buttons correctly. It was like he knew your body better than you did. “You’re just a dirty girl, aren’t you? Wanting to be fucking in the ass? Bet I could fuck this pussy while I have a pretty dildo up your ass. Hmm. Would you like that? You want to be my little slut?”

“I-I’m not dirty…I..I..” You didn’t know what to say, feeling conflicted in his words. But he couldn’t care. Your body was reacting perfectly to his words, and that’s all he needed.

“Don’t worry, baby. I’ll fuck you nice and full. And then we can go shopping. I plan on showing you all the pleasure you’d been missing out on.” his laugh was lewd, almost cruel sounding and you couldn’t help but moan in response. He lifted you up slowly without you taking much notice, only focusing on his finger thrusting in your asshole softly. It was only when a sharp pain started forming in your front you snapped your eyes open looking down.

“F-fuck…JAMES!!” he helped you sink down slowly until you had him completely nestled inside your aching cunt. You were crying again. But it was different this time. The pain was only slight, you actually didn’t mind the pain. But it was the value of what you had just done. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders you sobbed. Crying from all the frustration. All the anger you had against your parents. Against your community. You had now completely turned your back on the god you once worshipped. All your life learning certain things was for nothing.

“Shhhh. It’s okay.” he rubbed your back, feeling a tingle in his gut. God, you felt so good, your pussy was clenching him perfectly but he felt sorry for you. You had lived only one way and he came in and changed your life in a blink of an eye and it wouldn't had been easy one bit for you.

He had made a promise to himself that night. While his hips started to move and your body started to stutter with him. While his lips were on yours or sucking sharply on your neck. While his hands smacked your plump ass helping you ride his cock at a desperate pace. And when he bent you over the edge of the couch so he could fuck you from behind while you creamed all over his cock for the fourth time. He was going to love you, now and forever. He was going to teach you new things every day and always make sure you were the best version of yourself. And he was going to also fuck you in every room of this house…

That last part might of just been more for his sake but it’s the thought that counts.

760 notes · View notes

lasciviouspoison · 6 months

Text

story time: how ignored my bf and then had the best sex ever!!

omg another kinktober post?? i’m on a roll!! lol, but i wrote this so long ago and never published it, please don’t hate me :( tw: chubby!reader x eren, black!reader x eren, hate!fucking, bratty!reader, mean!dom eren, overall, eren’s a meanie and u like it!

eren had never been that good of a listener. in fact, he took pride in his ability to tune out any and everyone.

it was something you desperately tried to rid him of.

of course he would listen to you when you needed him, always being a supportive and attentive boyfriend. but, there were times when you could feel him drifting away from the conversation. although it wasn’t always intentional, it didn’t make it hurt any less.

and you’d tried everything to break this habit, yet, nothing worked. however, you figured that since nothing else worked on eren, giving him a taste of his own medicine might kickstart some change.

so, you made the executive decision that if he would not listen to you, then you would simply not listen to him.

after having a long day of classes, eren finally was able to come home to you. despite being frustrated, he just wanted to see his pretty little girlfriend and rant a bit about his day. nothing too complex, right?

wrong.

“I don’t see why I'm always involved in these fucking group projects. it always ends up with me doing the work and everyone expecting their name to be put down. I'm so over this shit yn, you have no fucking idea”. eren explained while cooking dinner. it was something he would do to relieve stress, a useful habit if you will.

“mhm” was all you muttered from the couch. sure, you knew you were being a bitch, but you didn't care. eren had just done something similar to you last week, so it was well within your right to break even.

“are you even listening to me?” eren peaked his head out from around the kitchen wall only to find you staring at the book that sat atop the lavender blanket strewn across your legs.

“yeah, sure am.”

eren walked over to you and squatted down, capturing your jaw in his hand and forcing eye contact, “well, what did I say?”

eren really was an intimidating man. while his green eyes bore into your own, you couldn’t help but think about how big he was. both in stature and presence, your boyfriend really wasn’t someone to fuck around with. and as each part of eren was strong and foreboding, so was your will.

you shook your head out of his grasp and returned to your book, “i’m not entirely sure, something about a project. I honestly don’t care that much.” you knew were being harsh, but you needed him to feel it.

eren’s head cocked to the right, and you could feel his confusion, “did I do something?”

you looked up from your book once more, fixing your glasses, “no ren, you did nothing”.

he squinted his eyes, “okay …. so why are you acting like that?”

“like what?”

he stood to his full height and placed his hands on his hips, “like you don’t care about what I'm saying.”

you closed the book, lifted the blanket from your legs and stood up, “because I don't”.

you began walking to the bedroom, knowing that eren was hot on your heels. you had to speed walk to prevent him from catching your arm.

after finally making it into the room, you didn’t realize that you had given eren the perfect opportunity to cage you in and make you speak.

“fuck you mean you don’t care? what I do to you?” the bass in his voice was causing reverberations to go through your chest but you held your ground. you were tired of him not listening to you and if it caused an argument to break him out of it, then so be it

“you don’t listen to me, so why the fuck do I gotta listen to you?! that shit aint fair to me and I'm tired of being fair to you”.

suddenly, eren stiffened and your heart dropped. while tension hung heavily in the air, he was looking you up and down, almost like he was sizing you up. you could tell he was staring at your tits through the sheer material of your tank top, but you made no effort to hide. if anything, you felt like puffing your chest out more to show that you weren’t fucking around.

“so you decided to act like a fuckin brat because I don't listen sometimes, is that it? you’ve suddenly decided that you don’t care about me or the things I say anymore, is that right?” he was nothing but an arms length from you, yet eren made no move to touch you.

“eren I never said I don’t care about you-”

eren put both of his hands to your face, squishing your chubby cheeks together, “nah, nah, don’t try to back down now. you wanna act like you don’t care about me, then I'll act like I don't care about you.” he was talking to you like a child with his voice slightly over a whisper. it scared you more than him yelling.

“what does that mean?” your eyes were a little teary, so eren knew he had to wrap this up before you started to get the wrong idea.

“it means I'm gonna fuck you like I don't care about you, just for now. and then, when we’re done, we can talk about my lack of listening. okay?” his eyes were dark and his nose was brushing yours. you weren’t sure whether to be turned on or angry.

before you knew it, he pushed your body onto the bed and removed his shirt. hurriedly, he pulled down your sleeping shorts and pulled up your tank top.

“eren can you slow down-“ was all you could get out before he drug your body to the farthest edges of the mattress, causing your butt to hang off the bed. he threw your legs over his shoulders and gripped your ankles tightly.

he was looking down at you in a way you’d never seen before. it was almost like he was looking through you, like you weren’t a person, but an object to take his frustration out on.

“not even g’nna get to kiss u. see what happens when you’re a brat?” he swatted his hand down to the side of your right thigh, causing you to hiss.

you opened your mouth to talk but eren simply filled it with his fingers. you gagged a couple times from the pressure, but he was unfazed. he simply collected the spit from your mouth and slathered it over your pussy, making you wetter than you already were.

he dropped to his knees and drug his nose over your panties. you started to reach down towards his hair, but before you could fully grasp him, he pushed you away and bit your thigh.

“stupid fucking girl wants to try and ignore me. i’ll give you something to ignore. ion wanna hear shit from that mouth, understand?” you can feel his warm breath fan your pussy and it’s making you dizzy.

he slaps your pussy and you whimper, “i asked you a question little girl, answer it.”

you shake your head yes, not wanting to anger him any further by speaking. he barely acknowledges you and rips your panties off. you wanted, so badly, to moan at his aggressiveness, but you opted to keep silent.

meanwhile, eren was eating your pussy like a man starved. while he claimed to wanna fuck you like he didn’t care about you, he couldn’t help but to lick on the all spots that made you whine. he knew your pussy better than you did, and he was determined to show you.

he pulled his head back, shiny from your slick, and pushed his middle and ring finger into your weeping hole. “ya think ion listen? think i don’ care? you think id know how to make this cunt cry if i didn’t?”

you could barely see eren due to the tears blurring your vision. you wanted to scream out his name and apologize, but you held your tongue and continued to writhe in pleasure on the bed.

eren could feel your pussy clench and gush on his hand, so much so that a little puddle began to form in his palm. he laughed at the sight and ducked his head back down to lick at your clit. he knew just how much you loved to see his head between your legs, so he wanted to put on a show for you. he made a point to look you dead in your eyes while his tongue glided over your puffy clit, watching you bite down on your pretty lips to prevent any noise from spilling out. he watched you grip those pretty titties he loved as your head pushed further into the pillows. if he wasn’t so hell bent on punishing you, eren knew that he’d be fisting his cock at the sight.

he could feel you hold your thighs back from clenching around his head and he chuckled into your pussy, the vibrations causing your back to arch off the bed. he took the hand that wasn’t inside you and pushed your body back down, ensuring that you wouldn’t be able to run away from him.

just before you reached your orgasm, eren pulled his mouth and hand away, slapping your pussy a few times before standing up again.

without talking, eren gathered up some of your essence and slathered it along his dick. little groans and moans were making their way out of his mouth and you stared up at him starry eyed. he looked so pretty standing over you. pretty pouty lips open slightly, eyes sitting slow with his long lashes fanning his face. even the small and slightly out of place hairs on his head were perfect in this moment. before you knew it, you began to whine and rub your thighs together. if he was gonna fuck you like this, you at least wanted him to be quick about it.

he opened his fully eyes and sneered, “thought i told ya to keep quiet? and you say i don’t listen”.

his tongue ran over his teeth and he bent down to your face. without a word and nothing more than a stare, he slid his dick between your pussy. hitting your clit with every move he made.

finally, you reached your breaking point, “oh eren please. i’m sorry! i swear i’m sorry, i wont do it ever again just please fuck me!” the desperation in your voice was hurting him. he knew that you were showing him how you felt and it’s why he’s been trying to work on his listening habits. but, his internal growth isn’t all too important at the moment.

instead of responding to your pleas, eren covered your mouth with his hand and brought his face closer to yours. “keep talkin and i’ll shove your panties in your mouth. take this dick and shut up”, was all he said before he gripped his dick, tapped it on your clit a few more times, and slipped it in with a pop.

with a muffled “fuck” leaving your mouth and a slight groan from his, eren’s head lulled into your neck. finally, he started fucking you with a furry you’ve never felt before. granted, eren is great in bed. he’s rough sometimes, gentle on others, and is willing to try anything once. but for some reason, his lack of respect for you has turned your body and brain into nothing but mush.

“ah fuck princess, you’re squeezin’ too tight” he said before gripping your hips with both hands, removing the one placed on top of your mouth.

even though he told you to hush, you knew eren couldn’t stay mad for much longer. “can you, fuck - ugh, eren can you please look at me?”

he took his head out from the crook of your neck and hovered over you, all the while never slowing down his thrusts. with him still giving you this look of carelessness, he gripped your face hard and let out a severely stern “open”.

you opened your mouth and he spit into it, softly groaning after feeling you immediately clench around him. you swallowed and stuck your tongue back out just how he likes it, and you swore you saw a bit of a smile flash over his face.

“‘m gonna cum rennie. can i please?” you said as your eyes rolled back. you never had to tell eren when you were gonna cum, he always knew. the slight shake in your legs and the slight twitch of your eye were tell tale signs of a quickly approaching orgasm.

still keeping with his angry facade, he gave a quick “do what you want”. not before coating his thumb with spit and rubbing quick circles on your clit. just how you like it of course.

“oh fuck ren…i’mcummingi’mcummin- ah!” he kept going despite your pleas and the feeling of your cum splashing onto his stomach. his all time goal was making his woman feel good and if overstimulating, see borderline killing, her was the case, then he’d do it.

after feeling your body calm down, eren pulled out of you and flipped you onto your stomach. “stick your ass in the air”.

still coming down from your orgasm, your movements were a bit delayed. moving too slow for eren’s liking, he picked your hips up and propped you up on your knees himself, quickly fucking back into you.

it didn’t take long before his strokes got sloppy. you felt him grip your hair and pull. as your head flung backwards, very hard, if i may add, you could feel eren’s cum shoot deep into you, slowly filling you to the brim.

after a few seconds of heavy breathing and slow grinding, eren pulled out of you, gave your pussy a kiss, and left. he returned shortly after with a rag and began to wipe you clean.

as your body fell to the side, you were able to face eren once more. no longer were his eyes empty, but they were full of care and concern.

“do you need anything? water or a snack? i was more rough on you than usual so i wanna make sure you don’t feel funny”. his eyes were so expressive, voice so soft, and his hands were so warm. it’s crazy to think that this soft and sweet boy was just fucking into you with no remorse not even five minutes ago.

you shook your head, “no, i’m alright”. the sudden raspiness of your voice caught the both of you by surprise, causing your hand to immediately grab at your throat.

eren picked you up and sat you upright. he ran his hands over your neck, checking your lymph nodes and general neck area. “your throat feels fine, it’s probably just really dry from not talking. i’m gonna grab you some water, don’t move!” he said before running off. ‘typical nursing student’, you thought to yourself, trying not to laugh.

when he returned, he held the bottle to your lips, refusing to allow you to move a muscle.

after taking down some water, eren soon began, “listen. i know i’m not the best listener. i’ve been trying to get better, but i know it still upsets you and i’m sorry. i’m not mad at you for acting that way, it just shows me that, that’s how it feels. i’m gonna get better, i swear i am. so please don’t be upset with me anymore”. his green eyes were so sad looking, it was like looking at a puppy.

you ran a hand over his cheek and smiled, “promise im not upset baby. thank you for telling me you’ll try harder. i can’t wait to see it”. he tucked some of your hair behind your ear before pulling you into a deep kiss.

soon, the two of you fell back into your peaceful afternoon routine. after your shared shower, eren went back to the kitchen and started back with dinner. thankfully he was cognitive enough to shut the stove off before hand. finally, you returned to your spot on the couch, book in hand and a newly positive attitude.

#eren #eren x reader #eren jeager x reader #eren x chubby reader #eren x y/n #eren smut #eren x black y/n #eren x black reader #eren jeager smut #want him to make me cry so bad :(

1K notes · View notes

coco-loco-nut · 18 days

Text

Mister England

Paring: Lando Norris x Reader

Summary: One more time you involved your boyfriend in something American, and two times the coin flipped.

requests open masterlist part one

—————————

“Baby, why am I awake so early?” your sleepy boyfriend asks, rubbing his eyes as you take seats in front of the entertainment.

“Because it’s Groundhog Day, silly. Phil is going to tell us if it’s an early spring or more winter,” you smile, his tired eyes looking confused.

“Like that movie?” Lando asks causing you to snort.

“That’s blasphemous,” you chastise him, a lighthearted laugh escaping your lips.

“Even so, are the groundhog hats necessary?” an amusemed smile graces his face.

“Yes!” you gasp, mocking offense. You used to come to Punxsutawney as a kid and somehow convinced Lando to come with you. He bought the VIP tickets so you could be close, but he didn’t want to show up even earlier to fight the general admission crowd.

“How long?” he yawns, his sleepy demeanor slowly taking over. You had already been here for an hour and despite the live entertainment, there is nothing he would like to do more than cuddle up to you in bed.

“A couple more hours, Babe,” you kiss him, putting a smile back on his face.

“I’m gonna go get some food and hot chocolate, I’ll be back,” he squeezes your hand and disappears. Half an hour later he reappears, handing you a warm cup.

“Are you Lando Norris?” a soft voice causes both of you to turn around. You heart melts as a young girl holding a groundhog plushie looks up at the two of you. Lando imagines this is what you looked like as a kid. He bends down to her and nods.

“What’s your name,” Lando asks, holding his arms out for a hug.

“Marie,” the girl says and you see her mom, tired and frazzled, approach.

“Would you like a photo?” you ask her with a small smile, and the mom nods gratefully, quickly snapping a picture of the hug. “Lando, turn and face the camera,” you tell your boyfriend, who is more than happy to take pictures with the young fan.

“Thank you,” the mom says, “let’s go Marie, tell Lando bye,” she takes the girls hand and leads her away. The last hour or so passes by quickly, and Lando is much more enthusiastic about the day.

“Early spring!”

“Let’s go!” Lando yells, getting it all on camera.

“SPRING!” You cheer. “Love you, Lan, thank you for bringing me,” you hug him.

“Anything for you, I love you, Y/n,”

“I’m sorry, Lando, repeat that?” you ask, utterly confused.

“I cleaned the hob,”

“The hob?”

“You know, where you cook with pots and pans?”

“You mean the range?”

“My love, you have lived with me for over a year, at this point, take the piss,” Lando says, rummaging in the pantry.

“LANDO!” you gasp, completely scandalized.

“Ah shit, the bread’s gone off,” you toss the towel you’ve been holding on the counter and walk out of the kitchen, brain not comprehending his words anymore.

“Baby? Y/n? What did I say?” Lando whispers the last bit to himself, rethinking the conversation and coming to a silent realization. “No, god, I really have to teach you slang,” Lando laughs, sitting beside you on the couch and pulling you into his arms.

“That might be helpful,” you pout, causing him to laugh more and kiss you.

“Taking the piss means you’ve embarrassed yourself, maybe not a good choice of words to say to my long-term girlfriend and future wife,” Lando says causing you to raise your eyebrows at him, he just brushes the comment off. “Bread’s gone off, it’s moldy, not really supposed to be fuzzy,” Lando explains the terms he’s used.

“Thank you, I think I need to spend more time here,” you blush a little and Lando holds you tighter.

“Forever would be nice,” his voice drops a little, kissing your cheek.

“Mmm, maybe when you finally propose,” you wink, Lando has half a mind to propose right now. He knows that you wouldn’t mind, but he wants to make a big, romantic gesture.

“Not before I ask your father, gotta make it official,” he lies, fully knowing he asked last month.

“Lan, I would rather watch the most boring F1 race than this. Even a tame grand prix has more action than this,” you groan, sipping your beer.

“It’s the better football,” you give him a look, “yeah, I guess I do like going to your alma mater’s football games more, but this is the real football,” Lando says and you shake your head.

Truthfully, you were just lost. You knew hockey, but that wasn’t helping as much as you thought. Lando noticed how uncomfortable you were and slowly started to subtly explain things to you.

Before you knew it, he was explaining almost play by play what was happening so you could understand. He knows how much you love sports and hate that you didn’t know it. To be fair, you suggested a rugby game instead, but he already bought these tickets.

“Thanks for explaining it to me,” you blush in embarrassment, not quite meeting Lando’s eyes.

“Of course, Love. You do the same for me,” he wraps his arm around you, as the game progresses you are able to get into it more, his guidance lessening as time passes.

“Halftime!” You cheer at the end of regulation and Lando blushes. Maybe he still has work to do.

#f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 imagines #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris #lando norris imagines

212 notes · View notes

strawberrystealer · 1 year

Text

Bungo Stray Dogs- What I think they’d do if someone kidnapped you

Characters: Fyodor, Nikolai, Sigma, and Akutagawa

For some reason I think about this a lot sooo why not write about it!

Fyodor-

Angry, upset, annoyed, all of those would be understatements

The pure rage that would fill this mans body once he gets the news-

If he saw like a letter or something thats like “Ayo we got ur bae come get them or they die lmaooo #livelaughlove” But a lot more sinister and stuff he’d go straight there and uhhh

Basically kill everyone there using his ability of course

He’d be so quick about it too, like drop everything he was doing and go straight there

Once he’s at the place in like the span of a few seconds everyone’s already dead and he goes over to you and idk takes off your blind fold or whatever they have on you

He becomes the softest man you’ve ever seen just for that moment cuz he doesn’t know what you’ve been through and he doesn’t want to cause you anymore pain

Once you two get home he’ll run a bath for you or something and stay by your side

He’ll make sure no one ever touches you again, he can’t ever risk losing you.

Nikolai-

I bet he’d be like coming home all cheerful, ready to come mess with you or something and... you’re not on the couch.

Not in your room, the bathroom, anywhere

The smile immediately drops from his face and he gets worried

But then again he probably does this all the time so he texts you and you don’t respond??

Now he’s 10 times more worried than he was before!

Probably not a lot tho cuz he probably knows where you are

If thats the case then he just goes the the location and pays you a lil visit

Knocks on the door like a gentleman ofc

But when they open it-

BOOM

“QUIZ TIME!!! Where’s my lovely little s/o?? Can you guess??” And he looks over and sees you inside the house.

Then he’d immediately kill move the kind gentleman into a burning fire! So sweet ik

He’d get to you and ofc be worried but once he finds out you’re okay he’ll be fine and back to his normal goofy self

Unless you want the more realistic take where he cant stop thinking about it and thinks its his fault for weeks but is also trying to rid himself of emotions so ofc he cant be scared or guilty so he’s constantly battling himself on whether or not its his fault and if you still even like you because he might not have been there just in time to save you.

Sigma-

He’d be so unbelievably worried

He wouldn’t know who did it, why, how, or anything and he’d be just as confused as you probably are

He’d probably have to ask for help, contemplate calling the cops but then realizes hes fr a terrorist he cant do that-

So he asks Fyodor for help and after a bit of pleading Fyodor gives him the location of where you and your abductor are

Once Sigma gets there, with some guns he’s probably scared to use, he sees the man that kidnapped you

Its gonna be like “if you give me ur casino ill give u your s/o” type of shit (super unrealistic but its all I can think of rn)

So obviously ur man isnt having that and shoots him

I mean he had no problem shooting that red haired girl (whatever her name is in the hunting dogs) so he probably wouldn’t have a problem killing some weak guy to get his lover back

Once he gets you safe he’ll keep asking if you’re okay alllll the time just because he’s so scared

“Darling are you sure you’re okay?? He seemed really scary... he didn’t hurt you did he? Do you need any bandages?”

Akutagawa-

He looks completely unfazed

Like he’ll read some letter telling him to come get you or you die and be like “...Ugh not this again”

He will get you though

And he is slightly scared but not really because he knows you’ll be fine once he gets you

When he gets to the place he doesn’t even knock on the door

He just punches a big ass hole in it with his ability and goes through it

Also kills your abductor<3

Once he gets you he’s quiet

He’ll lightly hug you, glad your alive and the drive home will be silent

He’s considering weather he should be all “you’re so weak how’d you even get kidnapped” or “are you okay? ... He didn’t do any physical abuse to you, correct?” But both of them sound weird to him so he’s silent

When you get home he’ll prepare anything you wish

Tea? Dinner? Blankets? Anything, he’ll do for you

He does love you and he was very worried its just he has a poor way of showing it, thats all :)

#fyodor #fyodor x reader #nikolai #nikolai x reader #sigma #sigma x reader #akutagawa #akutagawa x reader #bsd #bsd anime #bungo stray dogs #x reader

717 notes · View notes

potatomountain · 1 month

Text

CIY- CH 10

Chapter Ten

📍pairing: detective ateez ot8 x detective afab reader 📍word count: 3.1k 📍network: @pirateeznet 📍Warnings: tbd 📍Beta readers (and sole motivation): @flurrys-creativity , @candypop1611 , @yourfatherlucifer, @yessa-vie and edited by the amazing: @daesukiii

masterlist | Previous | Next

There was a good chance you overdid it at the shooting range yesterday, if your sore muscles and oversleeping were anything to go by. The fact you dismissed all of your alarms at different times, without even attempting to get out of bed, was also a good indicator.

When you had realized you were late for work, the momentary panic was quickly chased away by the realization they probably weren’t even aware of when you got there so why worry about being on time? That mindset had you falling right back to sleep, not even the idea of San worrying about you could keep the sleep at bay.

Your phone going off startled you awake, knocking it onto the floor in the process and leaving you scrambling for it out of habit. You didn’t even check caller ID, hitting answer and expecting an emergency because why else would you be getting a call? After grumbling out your name, you froze up at the familiar voice on the other side. “Ah so you’re not dead?” Your nose scrunched up as you flung your feet over the side of the bed. “No Yunho, I’m not dead. Is there a reason you have my number and are calling me?” You scoffed out, taking one glance at your clock on your desk and wincing. Oh, it was that late? “I’ve been tasked with finding out why our beautiful Goddess hasn’t arrived at work yet despite it being an hour after her usual time and no notification was given. Considering how prideful you are of your job, I assumed death was the only reason to miss out.” He easily drawled over other muffled voices in the background, which did wonders for your imagination. It even overlooked his heavy sarcasm that might normally be a reason to bite back.

You spent several hours shooting targets to get these damned curious thoughts out of your head and apparently it was all for naught. Not like you could hear what was being said, but with all their secrecy, you could only blame it on one secret you now knew. “Just overslept, and didn’t think anyone would miss me enough that an hour would matter.” While that was true, an hour did have your panic spiking a little bit.

It was very unlike you to be this late, and the reason just had shame bubbling in your gut. Like hell you would tell Yunho that of course, trying to play it off as nonchalantly as you could.

“Aw, already tired of us? Every second counts, especially if you want to do field work so how about you get that cute ass out of bed and down here to the Precinct? You have work to do.” “Yunho you could say it nicely!” This time you heard the other voice, trying to pinpoint who. Yunho scoffed, pulling away from the phone a bit. “If you wanted it said nicely you could’ve called, Vice. It’s done so stop yapping.” “May I remind you that you insi-” Seonghwa’s voice was cut off as the call was dropped, leaving you a bit confused and plenty awake now.

The one thing that really stuck from that phone call was that, to an extent, your presence was noticed, and your absence was cause of enough concern that Yunho called you.

Whatever emotions were going to blossom from that, were derailed when you noticed many many notifications on your phone: all from the S.K Unit.

Right, your probation was up regarding them now. That was… you weren’t sure how to feel about it, but being late on time already you ignored the messages and started getting ready. Thirty minutes later and you were stepping into the precinct, unsure of what to expect. The lack of bodies around when you walked in was a tad disappointing, which you wouldn’t ruminate on, but finding a coffee and lunch on your desk from the deli was a nice surprise.

Since you were late- was left on a note in handwriting you didn’t recognize, but of course you haven't seen any of theirs enough to tell. San would be the most likely option, since he was the only one who knew your order, but you couldn’t put it past any of them with their ability to surprise you. Either way, you smiled down at the drink, just as you liked it, and didn’t care who it was from.

You sat down to enjoy your gift just as the phone on the desk beeped, line 3 flashing red. Right, probably should have let them know you arrived. “Yeah I’m here Seonghwa, sorry about that.” You called out after hitting the button to connect.

“We thought we heard the door. Glad you made it safely.” “Mhmm. What would you have me do? Captain mentioned field work but said it would take a few days?” Better to keep the conversation on work. Keep it on work.

Seonghwa chuckled on the other side, humming a bit in thought. “Wooyoung is taking care of San’s injuries so that will take a few days anyways. I suppose we can test your undercover skills, would you be up for that? I can talk to the Captain about the suggestion, we can get back to you by the end of the day. Why don’t you get more familiar with the other gangs in the meantime, we have a new board set up for you back here.”

One surprise after another, it was really throwing you for a loop. “Oh uh, sure. I’ll head back there after I eat then?”

“Take your time.” The line went dead afterwards, leaving you a bit lost.

“Huh… are they sucking up to me? This is… weird.” Mumbling to yourself, you shrugged it off after a moment and enjoyed your free meal and drink, checking the notifications finally from S.K. You only really looked at the names, not ready to read what they had to say.

Most were from Jisung and Felix, quite a bit from Changbin and a few from the two youngest as well. Hyunjin’s chat was the only one you read, which consisted of a miniature spiel about a cute guy he saw at the gym this ‘fine morning’ that could spice up your lack of a sex life. You scoffed, sending him a few choice emojis to tell him to kindly fuck off before finishing up your meal.

You couldn’t help but notice not a single message or call or anything from Chan or Minho, and it somewhat hurt. Did you really expect them to apologize though?

If they did, would they mean it?

Sighing, you grabbed your coffee and headed towards the back. No use worrying over those two, not when you just wanted to move on and do your job.

“Ah there she is, definitely not dead.” Yunho startled you when you stepped into the back, a smirk on his features as he leaned back against his desk. “Come to join the party?” Rolling your eyes, you ignored him and instead turned your attention to the board. It was definitely set up differently, several different faces and gangs by the looks of it. “What’s this?” “This is how downtown is run.” Mingi stood before the board, tacking up a picture before stepping back. “Downtown is where a majority of gang activity goes on. It’s mostly prostitution, illegal gambling rings and brothels, drug rings. It’s considered neutral territory despite being part of the Golden Circle and heavily run by the Pink Boas- but they’ll let anyone operate there for a fee. Most independent players will operate there as well.” “Like Hwon Taejin?” You sought out his picture instantly, jaw clenched as your eyes landed on the familiar face that had your blood boiling.

Mingi and Yunho shared a look before Mingi stood in your way. “Yes, but that’s not the point.” He narrowed his eyes on you while Yunho wouldn’t even look your way now. What the hell had suddenly gotten under their skin? Sure you expected hostility but this felt different. “Oookay, then continue.” Not your problem, that's what you told yourself, glancing back at the board.

“The point is, that downtown is where all the action happens. As ‘neutral’ ground, any deals or talks between gangs will happen here. Drops of product, money, but the most important is that fights don’t happen downtown, meaning less likely to get killed accidentally.” Yunho offered, a chip in his tone that was hard to miss at the end.

They couldn’t actually be worried you would get yourself killed? Is that where they were going with this? “So what I’m hearing is, this is the area I am most likely going to be in the field. Plenty of opportunities and information to pick up without my head getting blown to bits or choking on poison?” They both nodded solemnly. “New players are always watched carefully by the Pink Boas, and they don’t have to take you out on their turf. So it will also be a test to see how well you can maintain undercover. Course, no idea what you’ll be doing in the field, could just be doing stakeouts like Captain does.” You narrowed your eyes on Yunho as he shrugged, but he still wouldn’t meet your eyes.

Mingi also hadn’t insulted you once since you got here. Something felt off.

“What the fuck is it? What did I do this time or not do? What did you fuckers do?”

Both of them paused as you cocked your hip, hand nestling there with coffee in the other. “Uh, nothing?” “Exactly! No insults and you’re acting like a sad kicked puppy for fucks sake-” You jerked your chin at Mingi before pointing at Yunho. “And you were so snarky on the phone and when I walked in and now you’re like a ball of anxiety or some shit. The desk is going to break if you grip it any harder.”

Once more the two shared a look, Yunho’s grip relaxing on the edge of the desk so his veins weren’t popping out- which you totally hadn’t noticed multiple times- and Mingi’s cocky grin was back. But neither could give you an answer before Yeosang stepped in, calling your name. Great, another ass to deal with. “We were given orders to give you a bit of a break from our… abrasiveness. And I have some things to upload to your laptop, may I?” He held up a flash drive, his sculpted face impassive of any emotion. You couldn’t tell if he was good at hiding it or just didn’t have much emotion. Annoyance he had shown plenty of, is this what was left under it?

It felt… odd. You didn’t like it. “Yeah, I’ll give these two some time to, I don’t know, pull the sticks out of each other’s ass? Suddenly being nice to me? No thanks.” You shivered at the thought, making your way towards the hall to your desk. The laughter from the two that were left behind eased a knot in your chest you didn’t know was there.

“What do you need to upload?” Glancing back at Yeosang, you tried once more to get a read on him. A vibe or something, but he resembled a walking doll almost.

He opened his mouth to reply, eyes moving past yours and brows pushing together. You turned to see what had gotten his attention, just to visibly stiffen.

“Hey there Trouble.”

“Don’t even start.” You pointed your finger at him, hoping he didn’t notice the sudden tremble. “You don’t get to call me that any more, Chan.”

Really, what right did he have to walk into your new workplace as if he was here for a friendly visit or lunch? As if he wasn’t the reason you were here in the first place. As if he hadn’t turned his back on you.

He didn’t need to come into your new space, looking fine in his jeans and tight tee, watching you with that smile of his that said “I’m here” as if to take on all your problems for you. There was no need for him to remind you of your feelings… the same feelings you had hoped you had smashed in the last month.

“Who’s this?” Yeosang stepped around you, clearly a bit annoyed that their space was being trespassed on by someone unfamiliar. “My old unit Chief. Who was just leaving.” You snarled out, crossing your arms over your chest. “You can just upload whatever you need to Yeosang, don’t pay him any mind.” Chan’s smile faltered, shoving his hands into his pocket. “I was worried about you tr- sorry, won’t say it again.” He chuckled nervously when you hardened your glare. “I know you weren’t happy about this-” “Who would be happy that they got kicked off their team? Seriously?” You took a step closer. “You didn’t want me there Chan, and I don’t want you here. So fucking leave.” Chan didn’t back down, lifting his chin a bit as he pursed his lips in thought. “Can I… Can I at least apologize?” You scoffed, rolling your eyes as you shook your head. “I don’t want to hear it. You made your choice Chan, just fucking live with it.”

When he called your name out in a plea, taking a step closer, you would have preferred “Trouble” instead. “Please let me explain, I didn’t want to hurt you.” He closed the distance enough to reach for you, just for you to slap his hand away. “I think she told you to leave.” Yeosang’s voice rang out behind you before you could tell Chan off yet again. “And frankly speaking, we don’t allow anyone else here in the Precinct unless you clear it with our Captain or Vice. I don’t think you did, so I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

Chan looked between you two, shoulder’s slumping in defeat. “Alright. I’ll talk to you another time.” Before you could make a quip back, he was walking out the door.

Your head pounded from the sudden increase in stress, hand going to your temple as you turned to Yeosang. “Was that true? The Vice or Captain needs to give permission for visitors?” Yeosang steeled his expression the moment you turned back, gently pushing your open laptop towards you. “Yes. Considering our work, we can’t just let anyone walk in. Especially other cops. Your pin?” It was comforting to hear, typing in your password quickly before pushing it back towards him. “That’s… reassuring. I didn’t think any of them would bother me here.” “Would… would you prefer they not?”

Shrugging, you leaned against the desk while he plugged in the flashdrive, dozens of screens popping up as Yeosang got to work. When you didn’t answer right away, he glanced at you. “Oh well, definitely not him. There’s one or two I don’t think I’d mind- wait no, that’s just a bad combination waiting to happen.” You grimaced, thinking about what would happen should Hyunjin come here or the two worrywarts. The conversation would get far too sexual or the poor beans would get too worried about you and most likely plan, very poorly, your kidnapping away from this unit.

Changbin could be the only one you saw getting along well enough but chances of him keeping quiet to the others? Unlikely.

Yeosang nodded as if you had just given him vital information, odd but somewhat endearing of him. “I see. I’ll let Seonghwa know.” His fingers flew across the keyboard, focused on whatever he was doing. “Can you… not? Or at least avoid the details. I don’t like how much you all know of me and my unit already. My beef with Chan I would like to keep on the downlow.” “What makes you think I would keep it as such?” Yeosang asked, lacking any sort of condescension or malice, just pure curiosity in his voice.

You shrugged, standing back up. “You didn’t like it when I dug into you all when I first got here, so privacy is important to you. And whether it’s personal morals or because you were told to play nice, I don’t think you are going to go around sharing my business.”

He paused what he was doing, turning to you confused. “You have reason to believe I would though?” “No, I don’t.” You sighed, leaning back down. “Just because you don’t like me or haven’t been the nicest doesn’t mean you would purposely exploit sensitive information about me. You can still have morals even as an asshole. Anyways, what are you doing? I can’t follow along with any of this.” Yeosang let his head fall forward a bit so his hair blocked his eyes from your sight, his fingers moving once more. “It’s a program I built that only we here at A.Z use. Takes a bit to install, connect to our servers here. I'm still working on the mobile version, but this has to be installed with a copy of the program. If anyone without access to the program tries to get in through one of you, the program will wipe itself clean and the connection.” “That’s… a bit scary of a protection measure.” You mumbled out, but also quite impressed. “These gangs have access to multimillion dollar security companies and tech, better not to risk them trying to get our information. We also have different levels of information. Right now, you are getting access to level one, which is a bit more detailed than what you already had on the Green Vipers. We’ll move you up if you gain a successful cover,” he explained, moving a few things around and code flashing across the screen. It took you a moment to realize what he meant, what this all meant. “Is this… I thought I still had a trial run?” Your voice was soft, afraid to speak any louder as if it would scare off the possibility.

Yeosang paused once more, hunching further over the computer. “Well uh, I- that’s not for me to…”

“Welcome to the team, Firecracker. Believe it or not, we are happy to have you.” Hongjoong called out, drawing your attention to the hall, a smirk on his face. “He means on the team. Happy to have you on the team.” Seonghwa sighed behind him. “Well that too.” “Joong- is it really a good time to try and flirt?” “It’s always a good time. Especially now that she knows what we do around here- oh? Is it that funny?” Hongjoong broke off, brow lifted as laughter had bubbled out of you.

“It’s just- mmm, I think I’m a bit happy to be here. When ya’ll stop trying to act so damn friendly fake.” Hongjoong and Seonghwa shared a look before the Captain matched your very real smile. “I knew you liked the bickering. Ready for your first mission briefing?”

You practically bounced up straight. “Yes, Captain, ready.”

Taglist will be continued in a reblog!!

147 notes · View notes

underground-secret · 21 days

Text

The Hunter and the Witch~ Dean Winchester x F! reader

Description: When Dean gets a call from an "old friend" asking for help, old feelings resurface leaving for messy feelings and a complicated hunt.

Warnings: canon violence, feelings of unrequited love, angst, loving someone being difficult, corpses, crime scenes, cursing, mentions of racism, racist ghost truck?

Tag list: @jesllianaquilesrolonsworld , @okayiamkassandra , @fablesrose , @ada--44 , @bonkydarnes , @star-yawnznn , @crazyunsexycool

Word Count: 9,251

Route 666

(Master list, Prev Ch, Next Chapter)

I lean against the expanse of the Impala, letting the bright sun shine over me. It was one of those cold but not cold days, where as long as the sun was hitting you it was perfectly right. Sam is next to me looking over the large map he has laid out on the hood of the car, trying to look for a way around a closed-off road.

I’m glad he knew what he was doing ‘cause my map and geography skills only went so far before I was lost.

Meanwhile, Dean was off to the side, his phone pressed to his ear his brows furrowed whoever he was talking to was clearly telling him something important and maybe shocking.

“Ok. I think I found a way we can bypass that construction just East of here,” Sam informs gaining my attention, “We might even make Pennsylvania faster than we thought.” I nod, taking advantage of his hunched-over figure to ruffle his hair, “Nice work, map man.” He snorts, rolling his eyes as he pushes my arm away playfully.

“Yeah. ‘Problem is, we’re not going to Pennsylvania” Dean points out, closing his phone and looking at it thoughtfully. I look at him confused, “We aren’t…?” He nods, wetting his lips, “I just got a call from an, uh, old friend. Her father was killed last night, think it might be our kind of thing.”

“What?” Sam vocalizes. “Yeah. Believe me, she never woulda called, never, if she didn’t need us” Dean clarifies. Without giving us any more information or even a chance to contemplate or counter his statement he gets in the car, “Come on, are you coming or not?”

The Impala cruises down the expanse of the road, a long beautifully green field on one side and a lake on the other. “By old friend you mean…?” Sam asks the question we were both undeniably thinking. “A friend that’s not new” Dean grumbles.

“Oh! Thanks, genius” I remark, he was being weird and that alone was not helping his case. “‘Said her name’s Cassie huh?” Sam said, trying a different angle, “You never mentioned her…”

“Didn’t I?” Dean remarks. He wasn't very good at hiding this one, the car falling silent in the wake of his stupid answer. He finally huffs, “Yeah, we went out.”

“You mean you dated somebody?” Sam asks with a snort, “For more than one night?”

“Oh come on Sammy we're all adults here, we’ve all dated before” I chime in with a smirk. He turns around in his seat, facing me with an expectant look, “Are we talking about the same person here? Dean doesn't date.” Sam exclaims and I push down the ache of that implication, “And aren’t you the least bit curious.”

“Oh no, I am,” I nod enthusiastically, laughing lightly, “I want all the details. I was just tryna be nice.”

He snickers, turning back to his brother, “You heard her, we want all the details.”

I swear Dean’s eye practically twitches, “Am I speaking a language you’re not getting here? Dad and I were working a job in Ohio, she was finishing up college. We went out for a coupla weeks.”

I want to ask how long ago this was, was it months before his dad disappeared or a year or more ago, but I hold back on my questioning. “And…?” Sam pushes. Dean shrugs slightly.

“Look, it’s terrible about her dad, but it kinda sounds like a standard car accident. I’m not seeing how it fits with what we do,” Sam reasons, “Which by the way, how does she know what we do?”

Dean doesn't answer again, silently shifting in his seat uncomfortably. The realization hits me like a brick, “Oh. My. God,” I lean forward in my seat almost getting choked out by my seatbelt, “You told her! You broke the number one hunting rule! You know, not telling anyone, ever!”

“More than that!” Sam adds, “It’s our big family rule. Number one. We do what we do and we shut up about it. For a year and a half, I did nothing but lie to Jessica, and you go out with this chick in Ohio a coupla times and you tell her everything?!” I try not to think about my own relationships both romantic and not that rarely ever made it past a couple of months before it ended, not only having to lie about being a hunter but a witch too. Dean stays silent, staring straight ahead, “Dean!” Sam yells.

“Yeah. Looks like,” he finally acknowledges. He continues to stare ahead, pressing his foot down harder on the gas pedal. Sam shakes his head, giving his brother his classic bitchface.

“Oh. He had it bad” I laugh leaning back in my seat, ignoring the sinking and stabbing feeling in my heart. I figured I’d have to keep doing so on this hunt.

The office was dark, the bright sunlight not able to stretch upon the large room not even with the help of glass doors. The place could really open a couple of blinds, let the light shine in.

An old white man with an interesting-looking tie, one of those Western ones with the jewel and black tether, talks to two people a man and a woman their backs towards us. And the way Dean pauses, staring at the woman it isn't hard to deduce she's Cassie. She and the older black gentlemen next to her seem to be having some sort of dispute with the old white guy.

Then suddenly both of the men walk away, clearly frustrated, leaving Cassie to stand there herself. She turns around swiftly, and almost like a perfectly curated romance movie she nearly hits Dean only inches separating the two. I didn't even realize he had moved forward in the time we've been standing here.

Just looking at her I could tell why Dean fell for her, she's beautiful more than that. She could be a model with her beautiful long dark curls framing her face, full lips colored red, and big brown eyes. She must have stepped out of a magazine, everything about her screamed perfect down to her perfectly shaped eyebrows and perfect nose. “Dean,” she says, her voice smooth despite the look of slight apprehension.

He nods and grins, “Hey Cassie.” And they just stare at each other. He's looking at her in a way I’ve never seen him look at anyone before even despite the tension that hung in the air, unspoken words from however long ago.

His eyes seem to glimmer, you’d have to be a fool not to see he still has feelings for her, that they never went away in the first place. And that it’s more than just any feelings, he loves her and that is a hard pill to swallow.

He clears his throat, breaking the trance they were both in, “This is my brother Sam. And my friend Y/N.” She smiles at each of us before her gaze reverts to Dean, not that I could blame her in the slightest.

“Sorry ‘bout your dad,” he says.

“Yeah. Me too,” she answers.

Her family home was beautiful and extraordinarily large, it was a bit disturbing. Though maybe that was because it reminded me of my home before moving to Kansas, or at least what I remember of it. We sat in the sitting room on vintage settees, another reminder of that home–my mother would quite like the look of this cozy room.

Cassie finally comes back adorning a tray of tea cups and a teapot along with the little bowl of sugar and a small pouring cup of milk, could she get any more perfect and wonderful? “My mothers in pretty bad shape. I’ve been staying with her. I wish she wouldn’t go off by herself. She’s been so nervous and frightened. She was worried about Dad,” she explains.

“Why?” Dean asks as she takes a seat across from us. He was watching her every move as if dedicating it to memory, I wonder if he’s thinking ‘She moves in the same manner she used to’ or maybe that it changed. Suddenly I was not so okay with sitting between the boys even though that's almost how we always sat when talking to someone on a hunt, as it made it harder for them to fight and made them slightly more comfortable with squishing into sofas with their large frames. But now, being in the middle I could easily watch how he looked at her, studied her.

She skillfully pours tea into each cup, “He was scared. He was seeing things.”

“Like what?” He asked.

“He swore he saw an awful-looking black truck following him,” she responds carefully.

“A truck, did he see a driver?” I ask, diligently accepting the beautiful teacup she handed me. I take a careful sip of the black tea, of course she would know and pick the perfect tea for guests. Does she have any flaws?

“He didn’t talk about a driver,” she answers, “Just the truck. He said it would appear and disappear. And, in the accident, Dad’s car was dented, like it had been slammed into by something big.”

Sam accepts his cup of tea, “Thanks. Now you’re sure this dent wasn’t there before?” And as predictable as Dean was he looked at his cup weirdly before depositing it back on the tray, that man was not a tea person he’d take a coffee or a beer any day. I think the only reason he drank the tea I gave him when he was sick was because he knew how desperate Sammy and I were.

“He sold cars. Always drove a new one. There wasn’t a scratch on that thing,” she explains, “It had rained hard that night. There was mud everywhere. There was a distinct set of muddy tracks leading from Dad’s car…leading right to the edge, where he went over.” She swallows harshly, bowing her head, “One set of tracks. His.”

Dean’s face softens, eyes filling with sympathy, “The first was a friend of your father's?” She nods, “Best friend. Clayton Soames. They owned the car dealership together. Same thing. Dent. No tracks. And the cops said exactly what they said about Dad. He ‘lost control of his car.’”

I force my brain to rid itself of any thoughts of Dean and Cassie's relationship. This was like any other hunt, something weird is going on and we are here to help, nothing more.

It was weird, cars don't just drive off the road like that and then have newly made dents that match another vehicle. “Is there any reason you can think of as to why your father and his partner might've been targets? Competition?” I ask. She shakes her head, radiating certainty, “No.”

“And you think this vanishing truck ran them off the road?” Sam points out.

“When you say it aloud like that…,” she sighs, “listen, I’m a little skeptical about this…ghost stuff…or whatever it is you guys are into.”

Dean huffs, “Skeptical. If I remember, I think you said I was nuts.”

“That was then,” she bites back. Then they fall back into that thing where they just stare at each other, “I just know that I can’t explain what happened up there. So I called you,” she adds, directing her words only to him. I clear my throat, weary of the bubble they seem to have put around themselves, “You were right in calling” I reasoned softly, “It is very strange and on the off chance it isn’t anything supernatural then it was certainly a cover-up.”

Her perfect eyebrows furrow but before she can respond the sound of the front door opening catches all of our attention, a middle-aged white woman enters through and I assume it's her mother. She shared her mother's eye shape and her nose, but the rest of her she must have gotten from her father.

As if we had gotten caught we all rise from the sofa. Cassie goes over to her mother, taking her arm, “Mom. Where have you been I was so…” her mother cuts her off looking at us, “I had no idea you'd invited friends over.”

“Mom, this Dean, a…friend of mine from…college. ‘His brother Sam and friend Y/N.”

“Well, I won’t interrupt you” her mother smiles nervously.

“Mrs Robinson,” Dean says suddenly, “We’re sorry for your loss. We’d like to talk to you for a minute if you don’t mind.” And as if offended she recoils, “I’m really not up for that right now.”

The morning sun is dimmer today, perfect for the scene we were walking upon. The man Cassie was standing with yesterday, Jimmy, was the newest victim. He died in the same way as the others sometime late last night. Cassie was again arguing with the old white man from yesterday. As we approached I could hear his condescending voice, “Close the man road. The only road in and out of town? Accidents do happen Cassie, and that’s what they are. Accidents.”

We stand beside her, Dean speaking up immediately, “Did the cops check for additional denting on Jimmy’s car, see if it was pushed?”

Without missing a beat and without looking away from Cassie the man asks, “Who’s this?”

“Dean and Sam Winchester, Y/N L/N. Family friends. This is Mayor Harold Todd” She replies smoothly. This man went from just any old white guy to a powerful old white guy, even worse. And he had two first names, you never trust someone with two first names. Reluctantly Mayor Old Guy answers Dean’s initial question, “There’s one set of tire tracks. One. ‘Doesn’t point to foul play.”

Cassie scuffs, “Mayor, the police, and town officials take their cues from you. If you’re indifferent about…”

He cuts her off, “Indifferent!”

“Would you close the road if the victims were white?” she counters.

Oh. Could she get any more iconic?!

“You suggesting I’m racist Cassie?” He spits, “I’m the last person you should talk to like that.”

“And why is that?” She counters, stepping closer to him.

“Why don’t you ask your mother” he answers before walking away. My jaw drops, what the hell is going on in this town?

I huff, blowing a piece of hair out of my face. I really didn’t want to get dressed, for as much as I’ve been trying to ignore the whole Dean and Cassie situation I was feeling horrible.

I sit on the soft motel bed in nothing but my underwear and a nice white button-down, haven given up on dressing. I feel stupid. Incredibly stupid.

Maybe Sam’s words had gotten to me, maybe I had gotten my hopes up without even realizing it.

He loves someone else, and he’s had for a while. I always thought when you love someone those feelings don’t ever truly go away, there's always a part of you with them. They wind up crossing your mind and you wonder where things went wrong. But I guess I never considered this would also apply to Dean, which is cruel to believe within itself. Which is funny too, all these years I’ve spent loving him…But Sam was right he didn’t date so I guess I assumed he never fell for anyone during his countless one-night stands.

I know death is cruel but maybe love is tied with it. Because I feel like someone took my heart and ran with it, leaving me with this void in my chest and an ache so intense that it throbs in its place. It was stupid to think I had a chance to begin with. I knew not to believe I had one in the first place, but somewhere along the line I had completely forgotten about any of that. So much for listening to my past self, if I had maybe I wouldn't be feeling so damn bad.

But I couldn't be mad. Cassie was wonderful in every possible way and you don't need to know her for long to realize that. They seemed perfect for each other really. She was feisty and had no issue putting someone in their place, which I quite admired, and I know Dean could use that every now and then. If she was a jerk I’m sure I’d have no issue disliking her, but she wasn’t! She was impossible to dislike, and it would be horrible of me to hate her just because she harbors feelings for someone that I love or the fact that he loves her back. That wasn't her fault, it was neither of their faults.

Loving someone has to be the hardest thing one could do.

I get up from the bed and put on my skirt. I couldn't sit here forever, the boys would come knocking and I wouldn't have a good excuse as to why I’m in a mood. Quickly I check myself in the mirror, at least I didn’t cry which means I don't gotta redo my makeup, even if it was minimal to begin with.

How do you stop loving someone? I could use that answer.

I knew I loved him for a long time, too long. But I suppose I didn’t realize just how bad it had gotten, how much it had flourished and I had never expected that to be possible. I love him.

I love him and it hurts so much.

How many times did I have the opportunity to tell him? It had to be in the hundreds. Maybe it was better that I didn’t, he loves someone else and I should be happy for them. I am happy for him. He deserves to be loved and be able to love. Yes, I am happy.

I approach the two older men having lunch, focusing on the wet ground and the wholesomeness that is them eating on a pier. “Hi, sorry. Are you Ron Stubbins?” I ask, taking the lead. I needed to throw myself into the work, I needed the distraction. The older man nods looking at us confused, his black cap bobbing with his head. “You were friends with Jimmy Anderson?” Dean follows up.

“Who are you?” Ron responds with, sitting up straighter. He was sizing us up, skeptical of us, which he had every right to be. “We’re Mr. Anderson’s insurance company. We’re just here to dot ‘I’s’ and cross ‘T’s’,” Dean explains, flashing his badge.

“And they needed to send three of you?” He counters. I giggle, tilting my head slightly, “Would you prefer me leaving?” I ask sweetly. And as predictable as men can be he drags his eyes across my body before shaking his head, “No. No. That won’t be necessary.” I ignore the dirty feeling that washes over me and sticks to my bones like a new layer of skin, it was necessary to do that because now he won’t bother questioning us anymore on that topic.

“We were just wondering, had the deceased mentioned any unusual recent experiences?” Sam questions, getting back on topic. Reluctantly Ron looks away from me to look at the man who questioned him, “What do you mean, unusual?”

“Well visions, hallucinations” He elaborates.

“We’re working with local psychologists to broaden our questioning and research,” I explain, trying to clear the confusion from his face, “It’s all very standard.”

“What company did you say you were with?” Ron counters. Maybe he was more on guard than I thought. “All National Mutual” Dean answers smoothly, “Tell me, did he ever mention seeing a truck? A big black truck?”

“What the hell ‘you talking about?” Ron exclaims, “‘You even speaking English?”

Wow, what a lovely guy.

“Son this truck, a big scary monster-looking thing?” Ron's friend suddenly says.

“Yeah actually, I think so” Dean answers. The man hums to himself in thought, please let this interaction be useful. “You’ve heard of something like that?” I ask the man. “I have,” he nods, not bothering to elaborate.

“You have. Where?” Sam pushes.

“Not where,” he finally answers, “When. Back in the ‘60s, there was a string of deaths. Black men. Story goes, they disappeared in a big, nasty, black truck.”

“They ever catch the guy?” I ask. He shrugs, “Never found him. Hell, not even sure they really looked. See there was a time, ‘this town wasn’t too friendly to all its citizens.”

“Thank you” Sam nods.

We walk away, heading back to the Impala. “Well, it seems like history is repeating itself,” I began, “From the lack of investigation and racism down to the–”

“Truck,” Dean says, finishing my sentence. “Keeps coming up doesn’t it?” Sam adds.

“You know, I was thinking. You heard of the Flying Dutchman?” Dean asks.

“Yeah, a ghost ship, infused with the Captian’s evil spirit. It was basically part of him” Sam answers, explaining the lore. Dean nods, “So what if we’re dealing with the same thing? You know, a phantom truck, an extension of some bastard’s ghost, re-enacting past crimes.”

“The victims have been black men” Sam continues the theory. I half-shrug, “I don't know. The town has to have more than a handful of black people, but it only seems to be going after specific people. It’s practically targeting those connected to Cassie and her family. I’m sure there’s some deeper link there.”

“That’s why I think it’s more than that,” Dean says.

“All right. Well, you work that angle, go talk to her,” Sam tells his brother specifically, clearly playing matchmaker. “Yeah, I will,” Dean agrees.

“Oh, and you might also wanna mention that other thing” Sam noted, a playful smile on his lips. Always the meddler. “What other thing?” Dean asks, either genuinely lost or faking it. “The serious, unfinished business?” Sam elaborates. I huff a laugh, “Yeah, seriously Dean it's so painfully obvious. Just talk to the girl.” It pained me to even suggest that, to motivate him in such a way but I want him to be happy, and if that means being with her then so be it.

Dean stops just as we reach the car, going obstinately silent. Sam huffs a laugh this time, “Dean, what is going on between you two?”

“All right, so maybe we were a little more involved than I said,” he finally admits. I give him a pointed look, “Yeah…that was obvious.”

He huffs, “A lot more. Maybe. And I told her our secret, about what we do. And I shouldn’t have.”

“Ah look man, everybody’s gotta open up to someone sometime,” Sam reasons, being a little too understanding compared to how we were only yesterday. “Yeah I don’t,” Dean argues, “It was stupid to get that close. I mean, look how it ended.”

I smile at him softly, hoping any sadness is concealed far behind my eyes, and I realize Sam is giving him the same look except he’s nearly beaming. “Would you both stop!” he shouts. But we don't because this is a side of Dean we’ve never seen before, and it is beautiful even if it's heartbreaking for me. “Someone blink or something!” he exclaims, throwing his hands up.

“You loved her,” I say softly, the gape in my chest deepening at the verbal declaration. Saying it aloud was so much worse. “Oh God,” he groans, turning to the Impala. “You still do!” I call after him.

“You were in love with her, but you dumped her,” Sam states, connecting the pieces. Dean goes silent, staring at the ground, then carefully glances at his brother before reverting his eyes. “Oh wow. She dumped you.”

I have to stop myself from taking in a sharp breath, there was a lot to this he wasn’t telling us. But why would she break up with him if she still has feelings?

“Get in the car” Dean demands, done being “emotional” and open, “Get in the car!”

Sam hands me my hot chocolate, but not even the sweet treat or the soft snow falling just outside can lift my mood. It makes me feel a little better but it does not fix my heart. Dean didn’t come back last night and I know it’s because he spent the night at Cassie’s. I’m happy they worked things out and hopefully had a wonderful night but again it does not fix my heart.

I held the cup tighter, welcoming the immense warmth it brought to my frozen hands as we stepped out of the small coffee shop. The air was crisp yet gentle as the light fluffy snowflakes descended onto us, the cold flakes collecting in my hair. A small smile graced my face, maybe it was making me feel better. I like the cold, preferred it even, I was cozy in my thick turtle neck and my favorite fleeced-lined jacket.

Sam and I walk in comfortable silence side by side, sipping from our cups and basking in the scenery of the unexpected snow. It was early May in Missouri, it really shouldn’t be snowing but I suppose if it could snow here a little in April then early May couldn't be that weird. Plus it was a light snow that likely wouldn't even stick. But the calming scenery is cut in half by an ambulance that speeds past us, sirens blaring. We share a questioning look but ultimately ignore it until two cop cars rush past us heading the same way. That we can’t ignore. With another shared look, we follow after the sirens.

I look out at the macabre scene, the yellow caution tape not having stopped me from investigating thanks to the use of a fake ID. The body had been bagged after countless photos were taken, but the blood of Mayor Todd still stains the streets. It was a gruesome scene, arguably worse than the others in this case his organs squished out like roadkill and, truthfully, that’s what he had become.

“L/N” Sam calls out from just a few feet behind me. I turned around swiftly, the snow whirling around me, Dean stood next to his brother. He came.

I walk over to the two boys, watching Dean’s clear expression of shock masked by annoyance, “‘You gonna ask me a bunch of questions too?” he asks. I look at him confused, “...no” I drag out slowly. His face seems to relax slightly, something unrecognizable passing in his eyes, “Good,” he nods.

“I already know you made up–made out” I add, his face drops, “Anyways, crime scene,” I point behind me.

“Every bone crushed. Internal organs turned to pudding,” Sam explains the case, catching his brother up, “The cops are all stumped, it’s like something ran him over.” The wind picks up again, swirling the snow in its own private storm, the cold will help with the case as it preserves the body longer. “Something like a truck?” Dean asks, gaining his footing in the case.

“Yeah, except of course there’s no tracks” I answer. He nods, rubbing a hand down his jaw and I have to force my eyes away from the movement, “What was the Mayor doing here anyway?”

“He owned the property. Bought it a few weeks ago” Sam says referring to the building site.

“But he’s white, doesn’t fit the pattern,” Dean points out. Sam nods, “Killings didn’t happen up on the road. That doesn’t fit either.”

I shove my hands into my pocket, taking a quick look back at the crime scene before turning back to the boys, “Then it seems like this case is one of revenge.”

I shuffle through the papers in front of me, glad that I was sent to do research at the town's main library rather than be at the newspaper office with the boys and Cassie. She was probably looking at him all sweetly and being a kind person, and I did not wish to see the loving way they looked at each other. And if avoiding that meant having my nose in dusty boxes of court records then that was okay.

I pull out my phone calling Sam directly instead of Dean, the phone rings a couple of times before he picks up, “Hi” I greet, “I got some info.”

The line goes quiet for a second before I hear his voice, “Alright you're on speaker.”

“Ok, so,” I start, balancing my phone between my ear and my shoulder as I look over the papers, “I have courthouse records here, and according to them Mr and Mrs Mayor bought an abandoned property. The previous owner was the Dorian family who owned it for, like, 150 years.”

“Dorian?” Dean repeats back. “Yes.”

His voice grows quieter but still in range enough for me to hear, “Didn’t you say the Dorian family used to own this paper?” he asks someone else in the room. “Along with everything else around here. Real pillars of the town,” Cassie answers. “Right, right” Dean responds followed by the clicking of keys.

“You got something there?” I ask, readjusting my phone.

“Think so” Sam mumbles, seemingly focused on whatever was happening over at the office.

“This Cyrus Dorian. He vanished in April of ‘63. The case was investigated but never solved. It was right around the time the string of murders was going on back then,” Dean informs, adding more information to what that man yesterday had told us.

“Well to add to that information, the Dorian place seemed to be in really bad shape when the Mayber bought it,” I add, “He bulldozed the place.”

“Mayor Todd knocked down the Dorian place?” Dean asks, presumably, Cassie. “It was a big deal” she answers, “One of the oldest houses left. He made the front page.” I huff a breath, everything connecting yet leaving so many questions at the same time. “You got a date, Y/N?” Dean calls back.

“Um,” I hum shuffling the papers around and reading over the words quickly, “‘3rd of last month.” The line goes quiet again the only sound ringing back being the sharp noise of fingers on a keyboard, “Mayor Todd bulldozed the Dorian family home on the 3rd,” Dean finally responds, “The first killing was the next day.”

Pouring the boiled water into the mug I take a quick look back, Dean kneels in front of the shaken-up Cassie rubbing her knee softly and looking at her with pure determination and adoration. I swallow roughly looking back at the mugs in front of me, nearly overspilling and burning myself.

This was not the time to grieve a love that never happened. Cassie called Dean afraid, having seen the black truck. We were here to help, I was making a soothing herbal tea for her and her mother to calm the nerves.

Finishing with the mugs I carefully carry them into the sitting room. Sam takes one from me, gently handing it to her mother. I hand the mug to Cassie, her shaky hands accepting and rattling the cup, Dean immediately moves to sit at her side but it does not stop his protectiveness if anything it amplifies it; he practically radiates it. “Maybe you should throw a couple of shots in here,” she says, half joking.

I huff a laugh, “Well while the effects of alcohol do have the capabilities of easing the central nervous system, when the effects wear off your body will be jolted back from its depressive state which would really only make you feel worse, more anxious as well as stressed.”

She gives me a half, almost awkward, smile before taking a sip from her mug. Did I say too much? Why didn’t someone stop me? Someone should’ve just cut me off, especially if I wasn’t helping.

“You didn’t see who was driving the truck,” Sam says suddenly, pulling the awkwardness out of the air. “It seemed to be no one. Everything was moving so fast. And then it was just gone,” she explains, “Why didn’t it kill us?”

“Whoever was controlling the truck wants you afraid first,” Dean answers. This would explain why at least one of the victims had seen it and truthfully thought they were going mad. “Mrs Robinson,” Sam began, “Cassie said that your husband saw the truck before he died.” Mrs Robinson doesn't answer, seemingly lost in her mind as she shakes. “Mom?” Cassie says carefully, worry laced in her voice.

The older Robinson shakes her head nervously, “Oh. Martin was under a lot of stress. You can’t be sure about what he was seeing.”

“Well after tonight I think we can be reasonably sure he was seeing a truck. What happened tonight, you and Cassie are marked. Ok?” Dean snaps, “Your daughter could die. So if you know something now would be a really good time to tell us about it.”

“Dean…” Cassie warns. But her mother's face contorts in emotion, something in her breaking, “Yes. Yes, he said he saw a truck.”

“Did he know who it belonged to?” Sam asks, taking a seat across from the woman. “He thought he did,” she answers cryptically. “Who was that?” Dean pushes. Her eyes get watery and she sinks into herself, “Cyrus. A man named Cyrus.”

My gaze flickers to the boys, we are all thinking the same thing, I look back at her, “By any chance was it Cyrus Dorian?” I ask carefully. Dean pulls out a newspaper from inside his coat, handing it to the woman. She doesn't shake her head or nod only replying with, “Cyrus Dorian died more than 40 years ago.”

“How do you know he died, Mrs Robinson?” Dean asks softly, “The papers said he went missing. How do you know he died?”

She hesitates, her mouth agape like a fish out of water or in reality that of a person who got caught, “We were all very young,” she says, “I dated Cyrus a while, I was also seeing Martin…in secret of course. Interracial couples didn’t go over too well back then. When I broke it off with Cyrus and when he found out about Martin, I don’t know, he, changed. His hatred. His hatred was frightening.”

“The murder,” Sam voices.

Her voice wobbles, “They were rumors. People of color disappearing into some kind of truck. Nothing ‘ever done,” she swallows shifting in her seat, “Martin and a…Martin and I, we were gonna be, uh, married in that little church near here, but last minute we decided to elope as we didn’t want the attention.” She pushes her short hair out of her face, stressed. “And what became of Cyrus?” I ask.

Endless tears fall down her cheeks, “The day we set for the wedding, was the day someone set fire to the church. There was a children’s choir practicing in there. They all died.” I suppress the gasp that wishes to leave my lips, the room seems to dim with the information. What was meant to be a beautiful day was soiled by the blood of innocents.

“Did the attacks stop after that?” Sam asks softly, careful of her fragile mindset.

A sob escapes from her chest, “No! There was one more. One night that truck came for Martin. Cyrus beat him terribly. But Martin, you see, Martin got loose. And he started hitting Cyrus and he just kept hitting him and hitting him.”

“Why didn’t you call the cops?” Dean pushes. She continues to cry, “This was forty years ago. He called on his friends, Clayton Soames and Jimmy Anderson, and they put Cyrus’ body into the truck and they rolled it into the swamp at the end of his land and all three of them kept that secret all of these years.”

“And now all three are gone,” Sam acknowledges. This all confirms the theory of a vengeful spirit. “And so is Mayor Todd,” Dean adds, “Now he said that you of all people would know he is not a racist. Why would he say that?”

“He was a good man,” Mrs Robinson answers, “He was a young deputy back then investigating Cyrus’ disappearance. Once he figured out what Martin and the others had done he…he did nothing, because he also knew what Cyrus had done.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Cassie asks, her voice hard yet full of emotion. I couldn't imagine what was going on in her head, to find out something like this–“I thought I was protecting them. And now there’s no one left to protect,” her mother reasons.

“Yes, there is” Dean counters, fiercely. His green eyes harden with determination as he looks at Cassie.

I sit on the cold hood of the Impala, gently kicking my legs back and forth watching Dean pace in front of me. Sam leans against the car next to me, his arms crossed as he too watches his brother, “Ah, my life was so simple. Just school, exams, papers on polycentric cultural norms…”

I look at him with an amused smile, “I have no idea what that last part is but it sounds fun!” That stops Dean in his tracks for just a half of a second, he points at us, “No it doesn’t. I saved him from a boring existence.”

“Yeah, occasionally I miss boring” Sam reasons. I nod enthusiastically, “Honestly, we have not had a normal day in like months. Kinda miss it.”

Dean brushes our light complaining off, “So this killer truck–”

“I miss conversations that didn’t start with ‘this killer truck’” Sam quips with a dramatic sigh. I failed to hold back my laughter, Dean laughs lightly and for a brief moment, things feel how they used to, “Well this Cyrus guy. Evil on a level that infected even his truck. When he died, the swamp became his tomb, and his spirit was dormant for 40 years.”

“So what woke it up?” Sam asks.

“The construction on his house. Or the destruction,” Dean points out.

“Right. Demolition or remodeling can awaken spirits, make them restless” Sam recalls. His brother hums a ‘yes’, nodding.

“Like that theater in Illinois, ya know?” Sam references, and I in fact had no idea what he was talking about. “And the guy that tore down the family homestead, Harold Todd, is the same guy that kept Cyrus’ murder quiet and unsolved,” Dean adds, bringing it back to the case at hand.

“So now his spirit is awakened and out for blood,” Sam acknowledges.

“Yeah, I guess. Who knows what ghosts are thinking anyway” Dean shrugs.

“Wait, does this mean we have to go swimming in that swamp?” I ask. I mean if we had to salt and burn the bones then we would need said bones which are in a swamp, how nice. Dean smiles at me, I know that look. “No” I warn, pointing at him like an animal that did something wrong. “You said it” he rationalizes.

“Noooo” I whine a pout on my lips, “Do I have to do it alone?”

His wicked smile deepens, “‘Course not, Sammy’s gonna be with you.”

Sam’s shoulders drop, “Man,” he sighs.

Suddenly a familiar figure approaches, her hands tucked into the back pocket of her jeans. Dean stands up straighter, “Hey.” She smiles sadly, “Hey. She’s asleep. Now what?”

“Well, you should stay put, look after her…and we’ll be back. Don’t leave the house,” Dean explains, looking at her in that way that hurts my heart. But she smiles, any worry melting off her face, “Don’t go getting all authoritative on me. I hate it.”

Dean glances back at us, Sam looks down grinning acting as if neither of us could hear the conversation. He turns back to Cassie mumbling something I can't quite make out but whatever it was must have been good because he slowly leans in to kiss her. I drop my head and gaze at the very interesting ground, trying my best to ignore the sound of their intensifying making out. A pang of jealousy, longing, and pain shoots through my chest. If the ground wanted to just open up and consume me now I wouldn’t complain, I’d even help it and just throw myself in it wouldn’t have to work very hard. Sam clears his throat, I look up but Dean just holds out a finger to wait as he brings Cassie even closer.

I drop my eyes again.

Loving someone never hurt so bad. Loving him never hurt so bad.

Was it wrong to love him? Was this always going to be my fate? To see him evermore with other girls, loving them more than he could ever love me.

“You two comin’ or what?” Dean asks. I look up once more and this time his lips aren’t on Cassie.

I tug on the chain again, making sure it's secure, my hands getting wet in the process. I wipe my icky hands off on my jeans as I back away, “Alright he’s good,” I call out to Sam who stands feet away from me, closer to the butt of the pickup Dean was driving. He gives a thumbs up to his brother who begins to move the car forward, the pickup moving slowly in the weight of the heavy truck and water pressure.

We had already gotten it up a lot, but it had gotten stuck on the side of the swamp so we had to readjust its hold to get it the rest of the way up.

The years in the water had diminished it. The old black truck was now more like a rust bucket, remains of the swamp water spilling out from the seams. “All right. A little more…little more,” Sam leads, “All right, stop.”

The engine shuts off and Dean heads to the Impala, he pulls it open rummaging through the various weapons. “Now I know what she sees in you” Sam declares with a snap of his finger, meaning he finally understood what that look in her eyes meant. “What?” Dean asks.

“Come on man, you can admit it. You’re still in love with her” Sam clarifies. I nod even though the implications hurt, “Plus it’s not like no one else knows. So the only person you’re hiding from is yourself.”

Dean looks up from the trunk, “Uhh, can we focus please.”

I purse my lips, “Yeah…focusing has never really been our strong suit…” A container of salt is pressed into my chest, “Hold that” Dean says swiftly.

His expression hardens, all jokes put to rest as he dishes out items, “Gas” he says first, handing the large container to his brother, “Flashlights,” he lists out next filling my empty hand with one.

“Ok, let’s get this done,” he quips, closing the trunk.

We trudge back over to the rusty truck, our flashlights leading our way across the grass. Dean places his hand on the handle and I must wonder how he isn’t grossed out by just the feeling of the flaked paint and rotting metal. He glances at us in a silent ‘you ready?’ We give a nod and he opens the door.

A decaying wet corpse falls out the door and onto the soft grass, a small gush of water following its lead. I leap back like a scared cat, clasping a hand to my mouth and nose the decomposition of the body as well as its marinating in swamp water left a putrid smell. One perhaps worse than anything I've ever smelt before which was saying something considering what I’ve hunted.

“All right let’s get to it,” Dean says. Sam pours the gasoline all over the body, careful not to get it close to us and I jump in with the salt, opening the little latchet to sprinkle the small white crystals over the open-mouthed corpse. The satisfying scratch and flick of a match sounds softly beside me in the quiet night followed by the drop of the matchstick on the body. In mere seconds the remains go up in flames, the warm glow of the fire reflecting on the truck just beside it. I hoped no one would come looking over here with the whirl of smoke twirling above us, the heat powerful enough for me to take another step back.

“Think that’ll do it?” Sam voices, staring down at the burning corpse. But his question is followed by the revving of an engine and two blinding lights pointed at us. Without looking in the direction I knew it was the ghost truck. “I guess not,” Dean quips.

“So burning the body had no effect on that thing?” the younger Winchester asks. “Sure it did. Now it’s really pissed,” Dean responds. I glare at him, “I don't know if this is the time for cool jokes.”

“But Cyrus’ ghost is gone, right Dean?” Sam asks, a hint of panic in his voice as the tuck stares us down. But his brother doesn't answer right away, instead, he starts to walk away, “Apparently not the part that’s fused with the truck.”

I go on my tip toes trying to peak into the truck, maybe we missed something like a severed piece of him that didn’t spill out but before I can vocalize this Sam is calling out to his brother, “Where are you going?” I turn around, catching up to the boys, “Goin’ for a little ride,” Dean answers as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “What?!” Sam and I exclaim in unison, “That’s a horrible idea!” I add. But he ignores our concern, “Gonna lead that thing away. That busted piece of crap, you gotta burn it.”

“How the hell are we supposed to burn a truck, Dean?” Sam asks, voice raising in volume. But being the determined man he is he shrugs, “I don’t know. Figure something out.” He rounds the car, opening the driver's door, “At least let one of us come with you, this is horribly dangerous,” I try to reason.

His eyes move up and down my face, before he settles on my eyes once more, “‘Exactly why you’re not comin’ with.” Before I can come up with a retort on how stubborn he is he settles himself into the car, closing the door behind him. I look to Sam for any support on this but he just stares at the car muttering, “Figure some–something–”

I rack my brain for ideas because Dean wasn’t going to listen and would rather be all hot and stubborn than be reasonable, “An explosion?” I suggest. Sam shakes his head, “No, that wouldn’t work. Parts would go everywhere and everything has to burn.”

I huff, frustrated, “I hate when you’re right.”

Dean reverses the Impala and takes off, the engine revering. As predictable as possible the ghost truck roars after him. I try to rack my brain for more ideas, even if we could suddenly light a truck on fire it would take too long for it to burn completely, “Sam, please tell me you got some idea rolling around in there.” He doesn't answer, lost in concentration with his bottom lip between his teeth.

My phone suddenly rings in my pocket, I pull it out swiftly seeing Dean’s name glowing. I flip it open bringing it to my ear, “You okay?” I say immediately. “Uh…yeah,” He says but I remain not convinced, “what are we doing?”

I look at Sam, panicking slightly, “Um, Sam what are we doing?”

He pulls out his phone, “You gotta give me a minute.” He presses his phone to his ear, “He says to give him a minute, I think he’s callin’ someone.”

“I don’t have a minute!” He half yells. “Dude, I don't know!” I panic, “Just…just don’t die, okay?”

“Trying here sweetheart.” I look back at Sam who has stepped away, I give him a hand motion of ‘please hurry up.’ He nods, coming closer to feed me info, “Ask him where he is.” I pull my phone away from my ear putting him on speaker instead, “Okay, Dean where the hell are you?”

“In the middle of nowhere with a killer truck on my ass!” he exclaims, “It’s like it knows I put the torch to Cyrus.”

“Listen to me, this is important” Sam orders, calmly, “I have to know exactly where you are.” Seemingly taking his advice he goes quiet for a beat, “Decatur Road, about two miles off the highway.”

“Ok. Headed East?” Sam follows up.

“Yes!”

A rattle and a bang followed by skitting noise sounds from the phone followed by cursing, “You son of a bitch!”

“Sam!” I yell, begging him to hurry up. “Ok, uhhh, turn right! Up ahead, turn right.” Again the line falls silent, “You make the turn?” Sam questions softly. My heart beats faster with each silent moment that passes. “Yeah, I made the turn!” Dean yells, “You need to move this thing along a little faster.”

“All right, you see a road up ahead?” Sam asks.

“No!... Wait. No, yes, I see it.”

“Ok turn left.”

“Wha..?” Dean half says before he goes quiet again the only sound coming from the line being more screeching and shuffled movement. “All right, now what? He finally responds.

“You need to go seven-tenths of a mile and then stop,” Sam explains. I looked at him strangely, noticing he wasn’t on the phone anymore, but what the hell was he talking about? “Stop?” Dean voices.

“Exactly seven-tenths Dean” Sam repeats.

“God, I hope you know what you’re talking about,” I tell the man beside me. “Me too” he mumbles over the sound of his brother repeating the words ‘seven-tenths.’ I look at him my mouth agape, “You wha–”

“Dean, you still there?” He cuts me off, focusing on his brother again. “Yeah,” Dean responds.

“What’s happening over there?” I ask, not knowing was killing me. “It’s just staring at me,” he answers carefully, “what do I do?”

“Just what you’re doing, bringing it to you,” Sam replies.

“Wha–” Dean began before cutting himself off, the line going quiet for the umpteenth time, “Come on. Come on,” he mumbled quietly but just loud enough for the phone to pick it up. My heart thumps in my chest, anticipation and fear running through my veins as well as something else from those two stupid words–something had to be wrong with me to find that hot now of all times.

The line is silent, for one beat, then another, then another…I grip my phone tighter, “Dean? Dean, are you there? ‘You okay?”

“Where’d it go?” he responds with a mix of shock and confusion. “Dean, you’re where the church was,” Sam explains. “What church!” he freaks.

“The place Cyrus burned down. Murdered all those kids,” Sam clarifies.

“There’s not a whole lot left,” Dean responds.

“Church ground is hallowed ground, whether the church is still there or not. Evil spirits cross over hallowed ground, and sometimes they’re destroyed, so I figured, maybe, that would get rid of it,” Sam explains. I hit his arm, “That was a hunch?!”

Dean adds in with the lecturing, “Maybe? Maybe!! What if you were wrong?!”

“Huh,” Sam hums, “Honestly, that thought hadn’t occurred to me.”

I glare at him sharply, hitting his arm again as I say, “You’re too sassy for your own good.” He laughs, a boyish grin on his face.

I wait in the back, Sam in the driver seat for Dean to say his goodbyes. I liked the back seat, more now than ever because being in the front would mean being able to see out the side mirror and watch Dean kiss the woman he loves and say a goodbye I was sure he didn’t want.

Life was being really unfair and uncool.

I bury my nose in my new book, it would be better to just escape into this world than have to deal with my feelings here in the real world. My feelings in the real world were not fun, they were depressing and hurt…a lot. But no amount of ink on paper formed into beautifully crafted words could fill the gaping hole in my heart, still, I tried as there was nothing else to do.

What is worse is knowing there will never be a chance for me to be loved by him, at least not in the way I do, because there will always be a place in his heart for her. He’ll think of her all the time, dream about her, and perhaps see her in the breeze. His heart belongs to her, and possibly always has.

I needed to accept that. The sooner I did the quicker the pain would go away. I couldn't go on believing I had a chance I needed to huff the flame out now.

No more hope. No more love. We’re friends, always have been, and always will be. That will have to be enough. I couldn’t love him anymore, not if it meant feeling this much pain. I wouldn’t accept his touches anymore for they gave me more hope than I’d like to admit.

No. I was wrong.

Worse of all is knowing that I can’t just stop loving him. Let it be the Gods' fault or the stars or whatever it is I’m meant to believe in but my heart has long been his and always will be. I could never love someone the way I love him, I wasn’t capable of that. Let it be that our love was written in the star's constellations that it was undecided by me or him for my love had to transcend the binds of that nonsense.

I loved him and he did not love me and maybe it was that which I had to accept because to stop loving him would mean to stop my heart from beating. Though even then I suspect not even the afterlife could keep me from my eternal love. And maybe that was pathetic or stupid, especially since he did not care for me in such a way, but it was the truth and no one has ever claimed truth to be a beautiful thing.

I’m brought back to reality with a bump. When did we leave and start driving? I look out the window, we had already made it to the highway…I look at the boys, but both seem fine. Ok then.

“I like her,” Sam says, and suddenly I wish to be lost back in the state I was in moments ago. I would love not to hear or be a part of this conversation. “Yeah,” Dean replies, seemingly just to get his brother to stop.

“You meet someone like her, doesn’t it make you wonder if it’s worth it? Putting everything else on hold, doing what we do?” Sam asks innocently perhaps trying to get him to understand what he had felt with his girlfriend. But something flickers in his face and suddenly he’s making eye contact with me in the rearview mirror, his eyes written in apology as if it just hit him now what all of this was doing to me. It was that puppy dog look.

I smile sadly at him, giving him a curt nod in a silent ‘it’s okay.’ His gaze flickers back to the road.

Dean leans forward pulling sunglasses from the glove box, he puts them on carefully ignoring his brothers' initial question, “Why don’t you wake me up when it’s my turn to drive?” He slouches down in his seat with a sigh. I shake my head, roll my eyes, and go back to my book.

We were leaving Missouri and all would be well, or as well as they could be.

108 notes · View notes

icysnails · 4 months

Note

The Blade's Daughter story was so good ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ Can I request a continuation, either directly or years after the incident, where reader meets and befriends Yanqing? No romance, just two tired kids ranting about their respective father figures.

A New Friend.

A/n: Hello!! Thank you so much, I’m so happy you liked it! (>v<) I decided to do bullet points for this one- I hope you enjoy, and I hope you have a wonderful day!

Warnings: reader is a teen/around yanqing's age, mentions of anxiety/grief, mentions of family struggles/arguments, takes place directly after the Blade fic

Word count: 1.3k

Genre: fluff, a tiny bit of angst

Pairing: Yanqing x gn!reader (PLATONIC)

After fleeing the Stellaron Hunters’ ship, you began your old travel routines and quickly got transportation to a separate planet. You found a train that would take you directly off your current planet, which was a relief. But you were an anxious, fidgety mess for the entire ride, so much so that one of the other passengers in your car stopped by to ensure you were alright. You quickly nodded and looked back down at your lap, feeling too stressed out to try and make small talk. All that had happened over the last few months was playing again and again in your head, and you found yourself having second thoughts. Had you really made the right decision? Would you ever see your old family again? But even more, you wondered, were they ever really family to you in the first place?

You hadn’t gotten any news about the Stellaron Hunters, and no signs of them searching for you either. Maybe this was it. Maybe they truly wanted you gone. You sighed and suffered in silence, the rumbling of the train you were on making the pang of grief in your stomach far worse. However, you were headed for the Xianzhou Luofu, a planet that was generally regarded as peaceful. Perhaps staying there for a while would calm your nerves. A relaxed schedule might be a nice change of pace, as well as a perfect way to plan your next moves. And, there would be a ton of new food for you to try- not a bad way to close off a horrifically stressful week.

Once the train had stopped, you grabbed your few belongings and trudged onto the platform. Using your expertise in navigation, you deciphered a tourist map on a nearby wall and made your way to the closest hotel you could find. You practically ran to your room once you paid for it, falling asleep on the bed almost immediately upon arrival. Unfortunately, your mind couldn’t rest even as sleep overtook you. Nightmares plagued your unconscious mind, shaking you awake no more than an hour after you had dozed off.

It all seemed hopeless, and all you wanted to do was cry. But you couldn’t do that either. You were too exhausted to tap into your own emotions, but too distraught to sleep. So, you concluded that there was only one thing left to do- eat.

Soon enough, you found yourself at a nearby food stall, gulping down a few Berrypheasant skewers. Once you had finished, you went back to order a tea, but you realized that you didn’t have enough credits. You knew you had grown rusty when it came to traveling and budgeting, but you didn’t think you’d need to start taking commissions again so soon. However, before you could turn away from the stall, a blonde boy dressed in intricate blue and white robes handed you a bottle of the tea you wanted. Your eyes widened in confusion, and you tried to protest, but it was no use. The boy beat you to it entirely.

You offered him a seat at your table as thanks, stating that you could absolutely pay him back in a day or so. He just smiled softly and refused payment, but accepted the seat you offered him.

You learned that his name was Yanqing, the prodigal swordsman who was training under Jing Yuan, the general for the entire planet. Your mouth fell open at his confession, apologies spilling from your mouth for treating him so casually, causing Yanqing to shake his head sheepishly and deny your apologies. He was only the General’s student after all. He had no greater status, and all he really wanted to do was learn and fight.

Though you weren’t inclined to get attached to anyone anytime soon, you had to admit that he seemed kind, while still being honest and a little blunt. He was around your age as well, which was a plus. It was rare that you ran into anyone your age who was this composed and kind. You sort of admired him for that, even having just met him.

As you spoke, you revealed more about yourself to him. You mentioned that you had a hard time with family, even going as far as telling him a vague description of what had just taken place between you and Blade. It was out of character for you, but you were just so overwhelmed. This was the one time anyone had stopped to listen to you, and everything that had taken place just ended up rushing out. You never mentioned Blade’s true identity though- you didn’t want to get yourself into more trouble, and for some reason, you didn’t want to harm the Stellaron Hunters.

Yanqing’s gaze softened as you spoke. His situation wasn’t exactly the same, but he knew what it felt like to fight with family members. The closest family he had was Jing Yuan, who had been like a father to him ever since he was little. But the fact that the General was technically his boss complicated things quite a bit. Jing Yuan got protective over him often and was irritably calm most of the time. Yanqing wanted to learn, but Jing Yuan tried to keep him out of trouble as much as possible. As a young swordsman, Yanqing often felt inadequate or useless when idle, which led to him getting upset with the General for keeping him out of harm’s way. He wanted to be just like his father figure, to be of use to him. But the General wanted him to stay safe, even if he knew that was an impossible wish. It was inevitable, and the only way for Yanqing to grow and improve his skills.

You smiled for the first time that night, your own pleasant memories of Blade misting over your mind. Blade used to treat you that way too, in his typical discrete fashion. You used to look up to him so deeply and worked as hard as possible for his approval. Your situation practically mirrored Yanqing’s, save for a few circumstantial differences. Blade treated you like his own kin before everything fell apart. As closed off and brooding as he was, he still took care of you for a while. He still acted like he wanted to protect you. He was a crucial part of your life, and even if you hated him now, you couldn’t deny that he helped you grow into the person you were in the present.

Golden memories drifted from your lips in response to Yanqing’s bittersweet words, each syllable painting pictures of happier times. Times when you would train alongside Blade, or when you and the Stellaron Hunters would gather and go out to do something fun together. An unfamiliar light returned to your eyes as you spoke, and Yanqing found himself smiling as well. Though your old family went unnamed in the conversation, he could immediately tell how much they meant to you. Despite just meeting you, he couldn’t help but feel happy that you had such memories to look back on, even if it all ended in tragedy. He continued to listen attentively to you, sharing his own stories in between. Turns out both Blade and Jing Yuan were just as serious when it came to protecting their family, almost comically so, which made for some interesting stories.

But it was over now. None of it was real in the end. The light seemed to die in your eyes as you trailed off, your chest tensing up in anguish. Yanqing smiled sympathetically, letting the atmosphere fall awkwardly silent for a moment. But only a few minutes passed before a sudden chime came from Yanqing’s phone, breaking the heavy atmosphere that had fallen over you two. Yanqing’s wilted expression changed into one of frantic determination as he read over the text he got. He stood up and rambled apologetically, stating that he had to go because the General needed his help.

However, before he rushed off to go help with his duties, he scribbled his number on the receipt for your tea, along with a little note.

Number: (xxx) xxx - xxxx

Please reach out soon!! I’m sorry to cut things short- I’m not always occupied, so please don’t hesitate to call me if you're in need of a companion. I enjoyed speaking with you, and I really want to hear more about your travels! Good night!

- Yanqing

#honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #fluff #yanqing x reader #yanqing #honkai star rail #x reader #honkai star rail x reader fluff #hsr x reader fluff #yanqing x reader fluff #reader insert

243 notes · View notes

taintedtort · 1 year

Text

prompt ✧ calling them a petname for the first time

characters ✧ aether, wanderer, childe, albedo, kazuha, xiao

warnings ✧ gn!reader, none!

a/n ✧ i should definitely expand the characters i write for, but i don’t feel like it

AETHER

✧ does a double take

when the sweet nickname rolled off your tongue, he barely noticed, but then your words echoed in his head. might ask you to repeat yourself because he was too focused on the name. he blushed a little before doing whatever it was you had asked, deciding not to mention it in fear you’d take it the wrong way. he prayed to the archons you’d call him it again.

"huh? what’d you say?“

WANDERER

✧ makes a face

when he heard you call him a lovey nickname, he turned to you with a sour face. he honestly wasn’t trying to be rude, it just confused him as to why you suddenly called him that. he knew it was a couple thing— and well you two were a couple so it wasn’t strange, but he realized that a bit too late. when you saw his face you apologized and repeated yourself, but used his name instead. he felt bad, he didn’t even mind the lovey nickname. decided to just use one back to you, hoping you could read his mind and know he didn’t mean anything by his expression.

"of course, dear."

CHILDE

✧ teases you

a sly smile instantly spread across his face when you called him the petname. starts ending every sentence with the same name you used, causing you to roll your eyes and refuse to call him that ever again. makes fun of you every chance he gets after that, even if it’s been months since the exchange. after teasing you for so long, he sort of adapted the petname and now unironically calls you it.

"what’d you call me?"

ALBEDO

✧ unfazed

completely ignored it, probably didn’t even notice till you called him by it multiple times. his mind is always occupied with something so sometimes he doesn’t register certain things you say, and thus the petname was filtered out. once you get comfortable and start regularly calling him that, he gets used to it. he questioned you one night, the pair of you equally as groggy from the long day, and he was curious.

"when did you start calling me that?"

KAZUHA

✧ calls you one back

his reaction was immediate and natural. when you requested something from him and sweetly called him a lovey nickname, he responded just as sweet. you both started regularly calling each other petnames after that. sometimes the crew teases him, but he doesn’t mind at all. tells you all the time how much he loves when you call him a cringy name of endearment.

"i adore when you call me that."

XIAO

✧ is confused

sort of pauses and looks at you with a furrowed brow. you would’ve taken it the wrong way if he didn’t instantly start questioning what it meant. he knew about the names couples call each other, but he wasn’t sure if they each had different meanings or something. you had to explain it to him, but it payed off because then he started calling you petnames. you had a feeling he was testing them all out because he called you a bunch of different ones for a while before settling on one. he probably asked your opinion during this time as well.

"which one do you prefer?"

#reader insert #genshin fanfic #genshin x reader #x reader #fanfic #gender netural #gn reader #scaramouche x reader #xiao x reader #kazuha x reader #childe x reader #albedo x reader #wanderer x reader #taintedtort

1K notes · View notes

webslingingslasher · 8 months

Note

since trouble doesn't know peter is spidey do you think she sometimes is amazed/confused as hell by his super strength? like he sometimes forgets himself and idk does something that requires unbelievable strength and trouble's like..... that's not normal

yes. peter’s gotten good at acting like a normal human, and since he pushes spidey to the back, his powers aren’t as strong as they normally are, but he’s still a fucking hero.

like, one time he came over to help trouble rearrange her dorm room and she’s doing her best to keep up but when he, quite literally, picks her desk up with two hands on either side, and turns around with no sign of struggle with a ‘where you want this one, trouble?’

she’s like a guppy, staring at him in shock, not that she thought he was weak, but she didn’t know he was that strong.

and peter realizes where he messed up so he pretends to weaken his stance, ‘c’mon, trouble, it’s getting heavy.’ and that snaps her from her trance and points against the opposite wall and stares at him until he slowly sets it down.

‘you’re very strong.’

peter’s quick to avoid eye contact, ‘nah, not really. you should see tarrent move shit around, he puts me to shame.’

———

peter’s kicking his feet and squirming around on his bed.

‘stop it! you’re being a menace!’

her fingers won’t stop digging underneath his armpits, a jolt each time she tickles him.

‘i told you i’m not ticklish!’

‘liar, liar!’ he tries to roll over, but she’s stationary on his lap.

‘c’mon, trouble! quit it!’

a vicious giggle, ‘make me!’

she thought she had him pinned down, she didn’t. peter just let her think she did. her hands scramble to grab his, thinking if she went flying away it would help.

her back hit the bed, peter had tossed her to the side with one hand. he shifted to lay over her, holding her in place with one hand on her tummy.

her squirm made peter smile, ‘made you.’

she fought against his hold, she really did. it felt like sleep paralysis, she used all her might but she couldn’t even get her neck off the bed.

pushing at peters hand she felt a little too trapped, kicking her feet and trying to roll to her side. he had her locked in.

she wasn’t having fun anymore, ‘peter, stop!’ he thought she was, can he not feel her fighting?

‘nuh uh, you’re just gonna attack me again.’

she feels hot, ‘you’re too strong, get off!’ he rolls his eyes, ‘you can’t sweeten me up, trouble. i know your games.’

she wheezes, ‘peter, please let go.’

she gasps for air the second he removes his hand, she didn’t realize how hard he was crushing her until he moved away.

peter throws her shirt up, his eyes dancing over the skin making sure she isn’t bruised.

‘are you hurt?’

‘no, you were just… when did you get so strong?’

peter’s heart is racing, ‘i didn’t- i’m not. maybe you were tired from tormenting me?’

‘you immobilized me without even trying.’

‘i tried plenty, you’re a fighter.’

‘okay, but like…’ she squeezes at his biceps, ‘have you been working out more?’

‘if you want me more squishy just tell me.’

her eyes narrow, ‘you’re deflecting. if it’s steroids you can’t hide it from me, cause your dick is gonna shrivel up.’

‘do you really think i could shove a needle into my own arm? i’d die.’

‘deflecting!’

peter’s panicking, it’s his fault, he got too into you he forgot about holding back. he’s got to charm his way out of it.

‘is it wrong to wanna look good for my baby?’

his name came out in a squeal, she went hiding into his touch.

‘petey! stop!'

#frat!peter drabbles

236 notes · View notes

writing-positivelyexisting · 1 year

Text

Giving The Bad Batch Nicknames

The Bad Batch/Reader. Headcanons. | writing-positivelyexisting🫧

Hunter

“Hunter-bear”

The obscurity of ‘bear’ throws him off and he’s definitely going to ask why you said it.

“It rhymes, it’s fitting, and it’s cute. Better than ‘babe’, yeah?”

Despite not knowing where that nickname came from, Hunter eventually grows to love it. It’s so endearing to him that you came up with a nickname just for him.

The little name had grown on him so much that one time you didn’t say it, you just said his name, his heart sank and his eyes looked at you with so much concern and guilt. He thought he had wronged you in some way and didn’t think twice to make it up to you.

Flowers, a night out on the town, a cute dinner, a full body massage, anything you even LOOKED AT with interest he bought for you.

When you asked why the sudden flash of romance, he said, “You didn’t say ‘bear’ after my name and I thought you were upset with me. You always call me ‘Hunter-bear’.” He had the saddest puppy eyes and little frown you seriously thought he would shed a tear or two.

You got a good laugh in that day, realizing this nickname really stuck with him. You explained that you weren’t mad and it was an accident. “But, I might keep making the same mistake if this is what it gets me,” you joked.

Echo

“Echo-bird”

The funny look you got from the man almost took the breath out of you. He seemed so confused and a little annoyed, asking why ‘bird’ was necessary.

“Your name is Echo and some birds are known to repeat back phrases and words. It’s fitting,” you laughed softly.

Echo rolled his eyes and huffed. He thought he was through with the echo-jokes. “Oh great.”Then again … it reminded him of his old team.

The first few times you said it, Echo would look at you with a stern gaze. Kind of like when a mother looks at her child, silently saying “watch it”. However, the more you called him Echo-bird the more he felt his body relax.

Your nickname had become one of the most precious things to him. You always seemed to know when to use it, too. When the mission was stressful, causing his mind to cloud with doubt you’d say his nickname in such a calm, sweet, and soft whisper. Your hands would always touch him when you said it, getting his full attention.

More often, now, each time you’d call him by his nickname he would hug you so close to him. It always put a smile on your face when he’d bury his in your hair or in the little nook of your neck.

What you couldn’t see when he did that is the biggest smile with tears threatening to fall behind his lashes. While it hurt to remember his old squad, it felt so much better to know they never really went away.

Wrecker

“Dear”

It’s simple. It’s sweet. And he absolutely loves it.

Wrecker doesn’t question it. He was all smiles and laughs when you first said it.

He picked you up in a hug, telling you to use that all the time. And you did.

“Wrecker, dear, can you help me for a second?”

“My dear, could you grab that for me?”

It fills the guy with so many butterflies and completely melts his heart. Anytime you called him “dear” he would stop what he was doing to help you.

When you can, you kiss his cheek and say “Thank you, dear.” This is the one that gets you lucky.

“Come here, you!” It would be a very short chase full of laughs and squeals.

Sometimes the other guys will joke around, mimicking your voice and calling him by his nickname when you’re not around just to see him lose his cool for a little. (Even Tech would chime in with a logical jest sometimes).

You only caught them poking fun once and it was the last time you heard the jokes.

“You boys better watch yourselves. Just because you don’t have someone to make you feel all warm and good inside doesn’t mean you gotta poke fun at the one who does.”

Wrecker stood behind you, arms crossed, with the biggest “what she said” look on his face.

The men looked everywhere but you two in shame, muttering apologies.

Tech

“Boyfriend” / “Husband”

This man is IN LOVE with the title.

You said it first when you introduced him to a friend. “This is my boyfriend/husband, Tech.”

It sent a tingle through his body and scratched an itch he didn’t even realize he had. It cracked a smile on his lips and it stayed for the whole day.

He requested that you called him by his title regularly and he would call you by your title, too. It made you giggle but of course you agreed with Tech, who wouldn’t?

“Oh, boyfriend/husband!” “Yes, girlfriend/wife?”

“Boyfriend/Husband, what do you think about this for the Marauder?” “Absolutely brilliant, girlfriend/wife.”

Being called boyfriend/husband made this man feel so important and loved. It was definitely an ego boost for him, but you didn’t mind it.

When you two were alone, doing whatever or nothing, you would touch his face so lovingly and say, “My handsome boyfriend/husband.”

Tech would lean into your touch with the softest of smiles, mimicking your actions. “My beautiful girlfriend/wife.”

Crosshair

“Darling”

A classical nickname. Sleek and dark. It suited him well.

It sent a dangerous shiver down his back when you first said it. Crosshair was quick to whip back around to you, a stern pointer finger in your face.

“Don’t say that.”

You swallowed, feeling maybe he didn’t enjoy being called that but you searched his eyes and found skittish curiosity.

It just wasn’t his normal, but you got him to accept it. Through rigorous perseverance of calling him “darling”.

“Crosshair, darling, could you come here?”

“Stop cleaning your rifle and come to bed, darling.”

The nickname soon became a beaconing and Crosshair would come to your side and assist you with whatever you needed.

At some point, he started using it for you as well. It was always subtle, too. Never using a loud voice, always sounding like a grumble.

“Focus, darling.”

“Here you go, darling.”

And of course, once he was comfortable with it, he started using it as a form of teasing in the bedroom.

I had this thought while on a road trip this past weekend and it’s probably the cutest thing I’ll ever write.

#clone force 99 #tbb echo #tbb hunter #tbb tech #tbb wrecker #the bad batch #fluff #bad batch headcanons #nicknames #star wars #tbb crosshair #the bad batch x reader #tbb hunter x reader #tbb echo x reader #tbb wrecker x reader #tbb tech x reader #tbb crosshair x reader

772 notes · View notes

hana-no-seiiki · 1 year

Text

CHAINSAW & HAPPINESS

PILL 3 - GREAT GENESIS / GENESIS DEI

YANDERE! CSM! VARIOUS x STOIC! READER

“Check it out. These are my kids.”

“Oh yeah? Check out my kids.”

“That’s just Denji and Power . . .”

“Exactly.”

CAUTIONS: Spoilers for the Manga. Yandere Themes. Chainsawman Themes. Religious Themes. God uses he/him pronouns.

INGREDIENTS: You reminisce about the past and think about what lies ahead in your future. Denji gets his ass almost eaten by Batman- I mean a Bat Devil. Power.

FORMULATION: horridly unedited

[previous dose] [pillbox] [next dose]

You’ve hated humanity since the moment of your conception.

One might argue it was baked into your existence as a devil, simply etched into your heart the moment you popped out of hell, but you couldn’t agree with that notion at all.

It was just how persistent they were with survival and self-preservation that whatever your peers do to oppress them, torture their very souls, devour their physical being, they still manage to cling unto hope.

They were like cockroaches, ones with wings and the unending urge to fly towards your face like if they ever stopped they’d die.

Humans don’t hate cockroaches when they’re born, just like how you don’t hate humans when you were created. You merely saw them as pests you’d rather have gone. At least, that’s what you thought.

It was when you met Makima that you realized it wasn’t hatred you were feeling. It was envy.

You were envious of how they managed to find the grit to move forward. Of how they’re able to shake off tragedies and get stronger.

Unlike you, who had stayed stagnant for as long as you’ve remembered. Too scared to ever go out of line and potentially lose everything you already had.

As the God Devil, you were both one of the strongest and the weakest devils there existed.

Many feared your name, sure. But people found God equally, if not moreso, a comfort through trying times. God was their salvation, no matter how invisible, or inactive he was in their battles. Humanity continued to pray in his name, your name.

But slowly, but surely, faith began to disappear. And your powers began to grow.

You never believed in Makima’s goals. Nor do you believed in her feelings towards you to be genuine. You fully know that she’s using you for her desire; a family and most importantly the eradication of everything bad in this world. Her jealousy was probably based on the fact that she saw you more as a possession, a precious tool than a real partner.

You see, much like the Chainsaw Devil’s ability to erase concepts from this world, you also had a few unique abilities of your own. The ability to remember everything in the course of humanity’s life on Earth. Even the parts the “Hero of Hell” removed and bring it back to existence. Your head was akin to an infinite book, you nicknamed ‘The Bible’.

Where the Chainsaw Devil was the definition of chaos and destruction, you represented peace and life.

And you loathed that. Despised how different you were from other devils. Detested the thought that you were anything but an avatar of fear.

In any case, amalgams were one of the examples of things you’ve partly brought back to the world. It’s original name seemingly inaccessible even to your hands. Though it was mostly done as an excuse for you to use your powers whenever, you had a feeling Makima thought of Denji and Pochita when asking you to revive those mongrels. Or may be not. Makima was confusing and mysterious that way.

You didn’t pry much into her plans. Only ever preparing yourself for the shitstorms her actions cause and brave through it.

But now curiosity ate at you like leech. Why was she allowing Denji so close to you like that? Was it truly because she wants to play him like a fiddle?

Why did the thought of her hurting him hurt you so badly?

“You’re going to break it.”

Angel poked your nose. His touch, with how rare he gave out, almost broke your seemingly invincible composure.

“The weapon. Don’t. It’s such a hassle to make one.”

“My apologies.” You said, as you crushed the sword Angel made within your hands. Expression devoid from your features.

The latter sighed, you were as insufferable as ever.

“Could you stop being so polite and rigid? It’s gross.”

“You know I can’t use casual language in front of them. To the committee, you’re a demon and I’m . . . ” You were about to say ‘one of them’ but you couldn’t shake the sense of otherness you’d feel whenever you were with your colleagues. It wasn’t as if they viewed you as an outcast per se, just that they seemed so nervous all the time. Which led to you avoiding contact especially during battle. You weren’t oblivious to how humans viewed and often worshipped you, you just didn’t know the extent your powers affected them. Especially those who have known you for quite a while.

And so Makima helped by pairing you with beings who are usually unaffected by your aura. At least, on the surface.

“Still. I’d prefer if you went back to how you were before.”

You knew Angel before you even met Makima, as what the two of you represented were both closely related. Despite that, your relationship remained symbiotic at most. Angel’s weapons worked best when wielded by you, and you were capable of taking away his memories and ‘sins’ thus making the number of voices in his head less burdensome. None of you made an effort to go beyond that.

Your Bible ability allowed you to remember everything even beyond your current incarnation.

But Angel knew that while you will remember him if you ever died, the emotions attached to said memories will surely disappear.

He’ll remain that, just a memory. He was content with that. In fact, that’s why Makima trusted him enough with you.

“Charismatic? Proud? A perfect example of what it is to be a devil?”

“An asshat.” Angel munched on the human blood sausage you prepared him. Well, the sausage Makima forced you to make as to fulfill your ‘wifely’ duties, that you gave to Angel since you disliked the taste of it. “But a predictable one.” His androgynous voice came out muffled as he basically scarfed down the piece of meat

“It’s fine to admit that you’re a masochist, Angel.”

“If I’m a masochist—“ He squeezed on the barbecue stick holding the sausage, about to give you the rebuttal of the century (or so he thinks) until your husband unfortunately arrived to the scene.

Oh right! Did I mention you and Angel were atop a massive pile of human and devil corpses? I didn’t? Huh, my bad. Kinda hard remembering to say that stuff when the stench is awfully, well, awful.

“I’m sorry to cut your reunion short, but your new team requires your supervision.” Makima’s signature calm and collected voice slices viciously between your conversation. You can sense the underlying malice from a mile away at this point.

“You want me to stalk your hero from the shadows again.”

Makima didn’t reply, but her usual eerie smile said a thousand words. She didn’t like you getting too close to humans. Sure, it was fine for them to cling unto hope that you’ll ever notice them, it was fun seeing the light disappearing from their eyes as they find out such a thing will never happen. But you indulging your supposed dogs with more than a glance killed her.

In other words, if she was like that with humans, she was the worst — absolutely abhorred — you making conversation with another one of your kind.

To her, humans will never be threats. Devils on the other hand . . .

Well, she supposes even they don’t stand a chance. But she preferred knowing that even without her powers, you were all hers.

She trusted Angel, sure, but she’ll never like seeing her wife with someone else.

“Well then, underling. I will see you soon.”

“I hope not.” Angel blew a strand of hair off his face. He’s had enough of your presence already. Too much and he’ll build up an appetite for it.

“So . . . Sea Cucumber Devil, huh?” You started. Your silent appearance startled Denji and caused him to almost fall off the rooftop, if it weren’t for you catching him by the wrist in time.

Yeah, you weren’t really good at starting conversations.

“[Y-[Y-[Y/N]—! I mean —“ Denji stared at the connected skin. It had only just been a day, and he was already back to acting like hormonal teen who’d never been touched around you.

“C’mere.” You pulled him towards your form. His face landed on your chest, turning awfully red. After making sure he wasn’t falling anymore, you propped his legs over your left arm and carried him bridal style.

You landed on the ground following a single jump. Your heels (courtesy of Makima’s thinly veiled threats) clicking loudly.

You looked at Denji and smiled.

Then dropped him on the massive purple disarray.

“G-god . . ?” The girl, with peach-blonde hair and horns known as ‘Power’ from the info debriefed to you, halted her maniacal laughter. Her mouth opened up in shock and a little bit of horror? Could she sense you were . . . no she couldn’t. Makima wouldn’t allow a newbie to know.

“Close enough.” You shrugged. You had to discuss this with your spouse later. Spotting a bench behind Power, you made your way past her. A cool chill crawled up her spine, who were you? You felt like that devil but at the same time you were nothing like them at all. Not to mention you weren’t as stuck up as she remembered. . .

Nah, they wouldn’t help humans. You were probably a phony of some sort.

“So, what happened?” You sat down, holding off the cringe on your face that threatened to show from unhygienic everything is. Maybe Aki’s ways were rubbing off on you.

They began blaming eachother, clearly not aware that you were there for the latter half of your journey and only gave them an opportunity to explain themselves rather than point fingers.

“You know I can’t stop Makima if she so chooses to punish you two, right?”

“Please don’t tell her!”

“Yeah, this won’t happen again. We promise!”

“I have a feeling it will.” You sighed.

“If I’m correct . . .” You stood up from the bench, and gave your behind a few pats to relieve it of dust and whatever filthy things people have put there. You looked to Power, narrowing your eyes at the way she flinched away, “Your reason for being cooperative with humans is because you want your cat back.”

“And you, aside from being paired with me, want a chance to touch someone’s breasts, am I wrong?” You turned to Denji.

“No, you aren—“

“You were not given permission to speak, dog.” You glared at him. Though your expressions softened the moment he almost whimpered at your harsh words.

Not knowing that was him preventing a moan of pleasure.

“Why don’t we make a contract per se, right now?Denji, you get to touch Power’s boobs as long as you’re able to procure her Meowy.” You grabbed his hands, hovered it over your chest for a couple of moments, and observed his face. He was absolutely drooling.

You retracted your hold and swiveled your head to Power’s direction, taking laid-back, slow steps.

“And, if you two come back in one piece and with no casualities. I’ll join your next mission and prevent this . . . “ You bent your torso to the side in order to look past the pair and unto the purple sludge and multitude of organs on the street. “Mishap from reaching Ms. Makima’s ears. Is it a deal?”

“Deal!” Power nodded repeatedly, fist clenched in excitement. A stark contrast to her almost aloof personality with Denji.

“Good.” You flicked your finger, and in just a moment, every part of the Sea Cucumber Devil’s corpse disappeared. “Try not to disappoint. Makima has big plans for the two of you.”

Denji and Power left, not before gawking at your unintentional show of prowess.

“They’re gone. You meeting with those prunes again?” Speak of the devil and she shall come. You rotated your body to see what’s behind you, unsurprisingly spotting Makima.

“You jealous?”

“I am. Very.”

“You were listening in on us?”

“I just want to know what my husband is up to. Can’t I miss you?”

“You can.” Makima stepped in front of you, leaning close to your face to take a kiss. However, you covered the lower half of her face before she could get too close.

The two of you hear a car arrive not long after, with an Aki Hayakawa inside of it, “Ms. Makima. Mx. [Y/N].”

He escorted you and Makima to her destination and then brought you to a cafe to order some drinks.

You looked around for any pests, and checked if background noise’s volume was loud enough to drown out your voices before you began, “You’re wondering why too, aren’t you?”

“You . . . are surprisingly sharp when it comes to some things [Y/N].”

“I’m not quite adept at recognizing sentiment or intention. That doesn’t mean I’m completely unaware.”

You ordered black coffee and a few desserts and continued, “Whatever she’s planning. I don’t know. But I do know it wouldn’t be great for anyone in the division.”

You stared at the sweet confectionery’s as the workers were stressing out beyond the display, “My powers only extend up to the past. The infinite future ahead is anyone’s guess.”

Aki sighed, even you weren’t aware of what Makima was thinking.

“How did you become. . . “

“Become an amalgam?”

“. . .I’m sorry for the disrespect.”

“I don’t remember.” You finally answered. Your words barely registered above a whisper. But Aki has and will always hear it better than any other sound.

He guessed your memory of your merging was probably given away in a contract and is a sensitive subject.

The two of you return to the car in silence, waiting for Makima’s return.

Once she was back in, and you’ve given her the coffee and food, Aki started up the vehicle and began heading back to HQ.

The silence between the three of you was killing him so he decided to take a shot in the dark and ask Makima of her intentions. Surprisingly, she took the bait, somewhat.

“All Devils were born with names. The scarier the name is, the more powerful it is.” She commenced her speech.

“Take coffee for example, it doesn’t really have a scary image. If there was a coffee devil out there it must be weak.” She drew her eyes to the shaky state of the beverage and made no effort to cover the cup. Then she looked outside the window, to the cars and city scenery, “A car on the other hand, it gives you the image of being run over. That might be a stronger one.”

“Denji can turn into the chainsaw devil. I just think it’s pretty interesting.” And he could potentially erase anything she deemed unnecessary, which was infinitely more than interesting.

“He’s interesting, but he’s of no use to us. Everyone in the division has a goal or faith. He has neither of those. He’s not cut out for this. Not to mention he thinks he can befriend devils.” Aki bit his lip. Denji was nothing in comparison to the rest of the Public Safety sector. He had no experience, no sense of duty, was a slob and pervert.

And yet the stars of the workplace put their trust on him on just a whim, a flight of fancy. “He’s just a kid.”

“We shouldn’t judge a caterpillar when it hasn’t finished chrysalis, or an egg that has yet to hatch.” Taking Aki’s focus on the road as an opportunity, Makima slid her hand atop yours,“The kid. One day he’ll be a man. And he’ll be your junior to use. Yours to throw at the devils that destroyed your life.”

“Give him enough time with devils.” Her visage faced yours, and she smiled.

It terrified you.

“He’ll learn to hate them. Like every human should.”

You looked away, choosing to fill your mind with something else by checking in on Denji. Your eyes widened at the state he found himself in with just a few hours outside your supervision, “Turn on the radio.”

Aki doesn’t even think before his hands reached out to follow your command.

“Bat Devil spotted fighting with a Chainsaw Devil down at . . . “

“Hayakawa. Prepare your team to dispatch the Bat Devil immediately.” Makima downed the coffee in her hand while you basically inhaled your food.

“Understood.”

A/N: First part of my surgery is finished! Might be a week or so for the next ;u; i am in pain

Chainsaw and Happiness Taglist: @saharei @kaedescrush @epsi9099 @aradia-melinoe @sleepwillow @rolo-at-midnight @acuriousmoon @moonnotsonaa @just-some-stars @justarandomweeblol @cyn9 @that-one-simp

(please make sure you’re taggable if you reply to be added)

I’m going home after my family celebrates Ramadan and Eid so slow updates until then I’m so sorry

CHAINSAW & HAPPINESS TAGLIST: @saharei @kaedescrush @epsi9099 @aradia-melinoe @sleepwillow @nordithus @rolo-at-midnight @acuriousmoon @moonnotsonaa @just-some-stars @cyn9 @justarandomweeblol @that-one-simp @somebodyrandom-613

CHAINSAW & HAPPINESS TAGLIST:

Extra Notes: I’ll delete this in case I find better moments to showcase it in the story but to explain [Y/N]’s Bible ability more in depth, you’re basically able to know everything if it has been explicitly stated (Denji’s boob touching desires) or if it can extracted from an event that happened in a being’s life(Power’s relationship with Meowy and subsequent loss of the feline). To counteract how OP this can be, you aren’t able to read minds and are pretty dense + can’t view the future + it has to be activated rather have it on as a passive. In short, you don’t know how obsessed the sector is of you since most of them know of this ability, are pretty careful about how they act in case you decide to probe their past, and you aren’t a creep (i hope). In other words, abilities’s extent is as far as a reader of history knows not the author.

(Also you just aren’t allowed to peer into Makima’s history. We don’t poke sleeping bears, especially if they have the power to control you.)

Chainsaw and Happiness Taglist: @saharei @kaedescrush @epsi9099 @aradia-melinoe @sleepwillow @nordithus @rolo-at-midnight @acuriousmoon @moonnotsonaa @just-some-stars @cyn9 @justarandomweeblol @that-one-simp @somebodyrandom-613 @cupidlot

White names couldn’t be tagged + added a few who just commented if that’s fine?

Thanks for reading!

867 notes · View notes

fairy-writes · 1 year

Note

Hello there 👋

I was wondering if you could write a one-shot for Uta?? Something fluffy w/ a shy/sweet human!reader 😊

Thanks in advance! 💜

DON’T YOU DARE (MAKE ME FALL IN LOVE WITH YOU)

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!

__________________________________________________________________________

Fandom(s): Tokyo Ghoul

Pairing(s): Uta x Gender Neutral!Human!Reader

Genre(s)/Tag(s):

Notes: Songfic with the song “Don’t You Dare (Make Me Fall in Love with You) by Kaden MacKay

__________________________________________________________________________

When Uta first realized he was in love with you, admittedly, he panicked a little.

You were a human. He was a ghoul. It wasn’t a relationship that was supposed to work.

He couldn’t be in love. That was just absurd. He had more exciting things on his plate than love.

Don't you dare make me fall in love with you

Don't you dare enchant me with those eyes

If I fell through your skies,

There's no way you would catch me

There's a tear in my heart,

But your patch wouldn't match me

Uta first met you when he was at Anteiku, and you happened to walk in. It was busy. Most, if not all, of the tables were full, and when you began to approach, he got an idea of what was happening.

“Can I sit here? Everywhere else is full.” You ask shyly, and he gets the feeling that you’re nervous. Which is understandable with his appearance. He was used to it.

He nods once, and your expression relaxes as you sit down. The tenseness of your shoulders eases, and you pull out a sketchbook and flip to a new page as Touka brings over your drink. You smile at her and whisper a “thank you.”

You sketch in silence until he feels the need to have a conversation. It’s more of a whim, really, the urge to get to know a human to learn if they’re all like the CCG and Doves.

“What are you drawing?” He asks, and you jump. But you turn around and show him nonetheless, and he’s blown away.

It’s rough, with stray lines in some places, but it’s a perfect picture of himself, reclining in the chair and his coffee in hand.

You even got the lettering of his tattoo around his neck right.

The longer he stares, the more fidgety you become.

“Sorry, I can get rid of it if you want. I know it might be rude to draw other people without permission—”

“No, no, it’s beautiful. Thank you for choosing me as a model.” He finds himself saying, and his cold heart flutters when you beam.

You end up gifting him the picture, and after you exchange names, you leave.

He finds your number hastily scrawled at the bottom of the drawing.

Being near you still adds to the size of my sighs,

There's still seismic events at hellos and goodbyes,

And I still need reminders of why it's unwise

To stare

So don't you dare

The longer he thinks about it, the more he likes the idea of you becoming friends. You’re shy, but you’re sweet and a brilliant artist. You would be entertaining, at least.

But he’s likely never to meet you again, so that idea snuffs out like a candle. So he doesn’t text you.

At least until you walk into his shop.

You are admiring one of his masks on display when he enters the room from the back. He had heard the door jingle but wanted to finish some of the final stitching of the current mask he was working on. It was for the new half-ghoul Kaneki Ken. But that was beside the point.

What were you doing here?

Don't you dare make me fall in love with you

Don't you dare do something so cliché

Just get out of my daydreams,

You're an unwelcome guest

And stop making me miss you

'Cause you leaving's for the best

You look up as he comes in, and confusion brightens your eyes.

“Uta?” You ask, and he nods,

“That’s me. Welcome to HySy ArtMask Studio.” He says, more out of habit than anything. You offer him a smile, and he finds his heart trembling at the sight.

What was wrong with him?

“I heard there was a mask studio that could offer a lot of inspiration. I didn’t know you owned it.” You comment as you cradle your sketchbook against your chest. Your pencil is stuck behind your ear, and you’re dressed in a thick knit sweater and trousers. Your boots scuff against the floor.

He finds himself gesturing to the masks.

“Make yourself at home.” He says, genuinely meaning it.

'Cause I just couldn't stand having you as my crutch

You're a simmering stovetop I was tempted to touch

If you ever return, it'll burn me too much

To bear

So don't you dare

After the initial text, you are really the only one keeping up the conversation. Sure, Uta replies, but he keeps a certain amount of distance between you two. Mainly for your safety.

But for whatever reason, you keep coming back.

Your presence becomes a regular in his shop. You come every Friday, right after your university classes. Even though you are his age, if not a year younger, you say you are working toward your bachelor’s degree in—you guessed it—art.

You say you want to open your own shop and sell your artwork.

Much like him.

And I know it's all so shallow, but a shallow cut still stings

And before my heart becomes Amelia's heir, I need to clip its wings

So don't you dare keep mocking me with those

Thousand little things that I adore

Let me ignore you, don't let me care

He tries to ignore you the closer you two become.

For your safety.

At least, that’s what he tells himself.

And don't you dare leave me still in love with you

Nothing's fair when love is war

And I just can't endure any more of the fight

When the casualties rise with my heart rate each night

At first, Uta thinks he’s dying. Of course, that would explain why you always make his heart race and his blood run hot.

That would explain why you’re always on his mind.

Right?

Though I know I'm to blame for the glances I'd steal,

For the time I kept spending pretending it's real

And now that it's ending, I still have more feelings to spare

But don't you dare

It takes a talking to from Yomo for him to realize what’s going on.

Don't you dare

When Uta first realized he was in love with you, admittedly, he panicked a little.

But he doesn’t hate the idea.

#tokyo ghoul #tokyo ghoul x reader #tokyo ghoul uta #tokyo ghoul uta x reader #tokyo ghoul re #tg uta #tg uta x reader #tg #uta x reader #uta x you #uta tokyo ghoul #uta tokyo ghoul x reader #fairy writes

655 notes · View notes

ell0ra-br3kk3r-writes · 1 year

Text

The Phoenix and the Crow

pairing: (future)kaz brekker x fem!reader

genre: neutural

el's thoughts: this is part three in the series and... yeah haha this picks up at the very start of s2 ep1 so here you go! thank you for all the love on the last two parts! comments and reblogs are much appreciated :)

masterlist

“Home sweet home,” Jesper spoke as he walked beside Y/N whose nose was wrinkled between her eyes as she took in the dirty streets of the Barrel. “Straight off the boat from Ravka and no one was waiting to kill us as soon as we arrived. That’s a good sign. I might go off to celebrate.”

“If you do, you must show me around-”

“No.” Kaz’s voice was stern but not loud over the voices of the people around them. “No celebrating, we have stops to make.”

Inej followed him a bit more earnestly, “Where first? Tante Heleen?”

“We get the Crow Club.”

Y/N furrowed her eyebrows as she tried to keep up with the conversation based on the quick rundown Inej and Jesper gave her on the boat. Crow Club. The gambling den was owned by Per Haskel but run by Kaz. Tante Heleen. The woman who owned the Menagerie and held captive girls like her new Suli friend. Just hearing the name made chills run down the inferni’s spine.

Once the club came into view the trio stopped abruptly causing Y/N to run into Jesper’s back, muttering apologies as she moved to stand by his side staring ahead in confusion.

“Where’s our sign?”

“It’s been replaced.”

“The Kaelish Prince?”

“What kind of name is that?” Y/N rolled her eyes at Kaz’s harsh glare, “Sorry.”

“Dime Lions.” Kaz’s shoulders grew tenser with each passing second as the other’s caught up to his realization. “Pekka Rollins owns the Crow Club?” Inej finally spoke, her eyes wide as she looked back at the club in front of them. “Where does that leave us? Are you saying we have no home?” Jesper’s voice was slightly deeper than normal as Y/N assumed the shock of the situation took over his own body.

Kaz ignored Jesper’s complaints about his clothing and told them to split up. Y/N stood frozen for a second before the tallest of the group grabbed her hand and pulled her after him, but they didn’t make it far. Whistles were heard behind them, “Oi! You three!” Four men stood there dressed in officer uniforms, two of which held guns pointed at the other four.

“Kaz Brekker. Jesper Fahey. And Inej Ghafa.”

Y/N stepped out from behind the sharpshooter causing the officer to look at her with slight confusion. “And you are?” She tilted her head slightly, “Y/N.” He rolled his eyes in irritation after waiting a moment for her to continue, “Last name?”

“Sorry, it’s classified.”

“Are you with them?”

“Yes.” “No.”

Y/N shot Kaz a glare, “Yes, I’m with them.”

“Is there a problem?” Kaz continued and held his tone as if he was talking business.

“For you there is. You three are wanted for murder.” His eyes trained back to Y/N, “Along with you now, for the association.”

Jesper sighed, “What? We just got back.” As he spoke his hands lowered slightly, and the officer with a gun shoved it forward making him raise his hands up again.

“Now hand over those shooters. And you, the cane. And you spy-”

Y/N only then realized Inej had gone missing. The officers looked around franticly for the well-known Wraith, muttering their surprise and concern. Jesper just shrugged and smiled, “Yeah she does that.”

“Well… Two’s enough for now. Come on.” He pointed at the officer behind him, “You check her for any weapons.”

Y/N rolled her eyes as she was patted down briefly in search of any weapon on her. The guard called back, “No weapons, Sir.” She smiled sarcastically and clenched her fist when she felt a spark escape her finger.

“Then bring her along. Quickly!”

The shuffling of feet and the guard's voices filled the room as Y/N tried to pull away from their tight grips. “Let go of me.” She grunted when they shoved her down into a chair. She looked around the beautiful room lit by warm candlelight.

“What’s all this, then?”

“Someone paid good kruge to get a moment alone with you.”

The heavy wooden doors swung open and an old man with graying hair and a mustache walked in with his own personal guards behind him. “Criminals.”

Kaz looked down and let out a heavy sigh, “Dreesen.”

Dreesen quickly paid the officers off and told them to leave. Kaz and the older man went back and forth on the topic of the new-found sun summoner with Jesper chiming in every so often. Y/N paid no mind to the conversation and instead continued to look around the room, taking into mind the bodyguards that stood around them. She looked over them all except one. She recognized him within seconds and felt her heartbeat speed up. Sturmhond. The celebrity privateer of Ravka. Only a handful of people knew his true identity and since being so close to the red-headed tailor who gave the prince his other face, Y/N knew that Nikolai Lantsov stood in the corner of the room.

“It wasn’t your money, Dreesen.” Kaz’s voice caught her attention. “You were brought in as an intermediary. Someone to hire the likes of us. This operation wasn’t yours.” He looked over to the guard with an emerald pinned to his sleeve, “It was yours, wasn’t it?”

Y/N watched Kaz beside her with wide eyes. How did he figure it out?

Dreesen stuttered out objections before Sturmhond walked forward. “Oh yes yes. Totally convincing. Thank you, Dreesen, but I’ll take it from here.”

A moment of silence settled in the room before he turned to the older man and leaned closer, “That was me politely telling you to get out.” He nodded to the door, “So go on.”

The gray-haired man scoffed and nodded to his guards to follow him out. The wooden doors closed behind him.

“Well, this is much easier.” Sturmhond took off his hat and placed it on a table behind him. “Tell me, what gave it away?”

“You dress too well for a bodyguard. And you were hanging on every word like it was your money on the table. You wanted to hear our story, but we don’t know you.” Kaz turned his head toward Jesper, just slightly. “We know him.”

The strawberry-blonde walked forward, astonishment painted on his face as he listened to the criminal speak.

“So you kept up the charade until now. My question is… Who are you?”

“What? You don’t know me? Maybe in profile.” He turned to give them a proper view of his right profile making Y/N struggle to hide her laugh. Jesper and Kaz shared a look of confusion. “Still no? Very well. The name’s Sturmhond.”

“Oh, I’ve heard of you,” Jesper said in amazement.

“Yeah, I sure hope so.” He leaned on a table and placed his hand on his waist.

“He’s a very rich pirate.” The gunslinger explained.

“A privateer, actually. It’s an important distinction.”

Kaz grew frustrated, “The question remains, why is the Sun Summoner so important to a privateer?”

“You may not be aware, but half the world is looking for her. Or even just confirmation of death.” Sturmhond pulled out a folded piece of parchment, “And the reward’s gone up. Twenty million to hand her over to Fjerda. Turns out they weren’t particularly pleased with Kirigan and the Sun summoner’s plans to weaponize the Fold.”

Jesper laughed, “Alina never had such…” Kaz glared at him and he cleared his throat. “You were saying.”

“You’re on first-name terms,” Sturmhond said with amusement in his tone. “Where is she now?”

Jesper groaned, “We don’t know where Alina is. She’s gone.”

A scoff left the privateer’s throat. “Escaped?” He trained his eyes back on Kaz, glancing down at his cuffed wrists. “I know you’ve gotten out of those cuffs. If I had more time, I’d insist you tell me how.”

Kaz watched him in suspicion as he dropped his metal cuffs to the floor.

“My intel informs me the Sun Summoner was wearing this,” He pulled out the diamond and blue gem necklace from a rucksack that sat on a table. “When she entered the fold. It’s part of the Queen’s collection. A well-known piece, the fabled garnets of Ivets. So, either she used this to pay you off to keep quiet about where she was going, or you found her bloody corpse and stole it off her neck like vultures.”

Kaz’s eyebrows furrowed and Y/N could see the wheels turning in his mind again. ‘Kaz wasn’t the only mastermind in the world…’ She thought to herself, ‘But he was still probably the best.’

“How dare you? How even-” Jesper cut himself off in utter offense. “We are not vultures, we are crows.” Sturmhond chuckled as the Zemmini continued. “And that makes more sense with context.” Kaz looked down in what Y/N made out to be embarrassment. Jesper looked around, “My point is, we’re not grave robbers.”

“Which means it was a payoff. So you know where she went. Now if you tell me, I’ll give you twenty seconds alone here before the Stadwatch comes back in.”

Jesper chuckled in disbelief, “You can’t bribe us.”

“Leave the necklace. Give us twenty seconds and I’ll tell you.”

“Kaz?” Confusion overtook Jesper’s facial expression.

Sturmhond scoffed in amusement, “The bribe she paid you to keep quiet about her next move, in exchange for her next move. I like it. Still, there is the mess of having to fence Royal jewels.” He pulled out a large stack of kruge from his coat pocket.

“Kaz.” Jesper’s tone was a warning.

The two in the bargain ignored him. “You stepped off the Edam tonight. Was she with you then? Is she in town somewhere?”

Kaz looked down in quick thought before he spoke, “She stayed on the ship to Novyi Zem.”

Sturmhond hummed with a smile while Jesper shook his head in disappointment. “Good luck. Gentleman.” He nodded to the inferni whose hands were still cuffed, “Y/N. Always a pleasure to see you again.” She rolled her eyes, “The same here, pirate.”

~*~*~*~

tagging: @rachelcarroll1819 @xcharlottemikaelsonx @khaleesihavilliard @simrah1012 @foulkryptonitepeanut @astridyoo15 @queenofshinigamis @peakyispunk @jahayla-parker @maliciousbrekker @writingmysanity

#kaz brekker #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker x you #kaz brekker x y/n #six of crows #six of crows x reader #six of crows imagines #shadow and bone #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone imagines #ellora.writes

319 notes · View notes