#then to keep spiraling and spiraling because it keeps surprising you in the middle of your dash | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ilguna · 5 months

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☼ whisper of the beast (Finnick Odair) ☼

summary; on your own, you try to find your boyfriend in the arena. instead, you run across something much, much worse.

warnings; swearing, death, weapon usage, ehhh gore, blood mention.

wc; 2.5k

prompt; 11. "Just keep breathing. In and out. You're doing great."

—

There is something seriously horrifying going on with this arena, and each time you think you get close to figuring it out—it changes.

The only consistent factor in each of your theories is the jungle, and that’s because it’s the root of the fear. When you travel through the greenery for long periods of time, a creeping feeling grows on you, one that you can’t shake unless you make your way back to the beach.

Which is far from safe, itself. Especially since there are nine other tributes alive here, roaming around, hunting for lone victors. For it only being the second day of the Games, it’s remarkable that so many are dead, already. With six of them dying today, alone.

It makes you think that you’re being overly paranoid, because you’re out here by yourself. It’s a completely new experience to you. The first time around, during your Games, the Career alliance lasted up until the very last second. You never had to keep an eye out for yourself, because you had others with you that were doing the same thing.

You were under the impression that you’d be doing that for these Games, too, but nothing has gone according to plan. You and Finnick had a long discussion the night of the interviews on what to expect regarding corralling Katniss and Peeta into the alliance. Neither of you thought it would be easy. Worst case scenario, you’d grab one and he’d get the other, and the two of you would meet up somewhere in the middle.

The Gamemakers really must have it out for you this year, determined to keep you and Finnick apart. That’s why they decided to put you on the opposite side of the Cornucopia, keeping you from seeing Finnick. While also putting Brutus in your water wedge, to ensure that you wouldn’t be able to reach him.

By the time you fought off Brutus and got to the Cornucopia, all three of them were gone. The only option you had left was to wait for Johanna and Blight, but with them still in the water and the Careers coming to take over, you had to leave. There wasn’t a choice in the matter.

Since, you’ve spent your time traveling through the jungle and taking the occasional rest on the beach, in the hopes that you’ll run across your boyfriend. The search was casual yesterday, as you were more worried about finding drinking water than the rebel alliance. Now that the numbers are spiraling, you know that the rescue plan is right around the corner.

You’re confident enough to say that they won’t do it today, but it’s got to be tomorrow or the day after. They won’t have Katniss and Peeta openly in danger like this for longer than they have to. You likely have less than forty-eight hours to find them, or else you’ll get trapped in here and taken by the Capitol.

You would say that you wish you had a general idea on which direction they went in yesterday, but it probably won’t make much of a difference. With the amount of people dying in these trees, you’re sure Finnick is directing them the opposite way, just in case.

It’s another reason why you can’t stand to be in the jungle for long periods of time. From what you’ve gathered, at least half of the tributes that have died today so far, have come from somewhere in the trees. It makes you think that something is out here, and it’s more than just a rogue tribute.

In fact, it would make more sense for it to be a mutt of some kind. In the last Quarter Quell, they were everywhere. There was not a single animal that a tribute could trust to be friendly. On top of that, there were aspects of the arena that took them by surprise.

It appeared to be the most breathtaking place imaginable. The Cornucopia was in the middle of a vibrantly green meadow, the sky a perfect blue, with fluffy white clouds. In the distance, there was a snow capped mountain, one that looked straight out of a picture book. On the other side, a healthy forest with plants you couldn’t name.

Of course, it was all too good to be true. The mountain was revealed to be a deadly volcano, the plants were poisonous, the water was infected with a disease, the insects stung and the flowers could kill when inhaled too closely. Everything that was placed in that arena was working against them.

Who’s to say it’s not the same for this one?

You pause next to a nearby tree to rest your feet, because they’re throbbing in your shoes. You lift one, stretching your thigh, feeling the immediate relief that comes with being off the foot. After a minute, you switch, but it doesn’t feel as good this time around.

When you reach up to run a hand through your hair to smooth it back, you find that your scalp is wet, soaked from sweating so much. It feels much hotter today than it was yesterday, like the Gamemakers are trying to boil you alive. It’s brutal enough being in here, do they really need to make it any worse?

You dip your head, eyes closed while you take a deep breath, sighing it out. You return to walking, paying attention to where you place your feet.

It might make more sense for you to go down to the beach and wait for Finnick, Katniss and Peeta to show up. The issue is that you’re not willing to take the risk of the Careers spotting you while you’re down there. The four of them could easily get you pinned down. You’ll be dead before you can call for help.

A branch rustling behind you makes your next step stutter. Your eyes widen, as you slowly look across the fern in front of you, to the left of your vision. With sensitive ears, you adjust the spear in your hand, turning your body halfway to look behind you, at the tree you were just standing at.

There’s nothing.

You take a minute to search the trees around you, backtracking to get a better look. Even if it’s just a critter, you want to know. If there’s living animals out here, that means there’s a water source—and you won’t have to depend on your sponsors to keep you hydrated.

There’s not a trace. At least, that’s what you think, until your eyes catch the hoof print in the mud. Your face contorts, you drop into a crouch to get closer, curious on what could’ve made a mark like this. As far as your knowledge on the jungle goes, there shouldn’t be anything that could leave this behind.

The goosebumps that crawl up your arms are involuntary, stomach dropping. The safety blanket that the jungle had been providing seconds ago, is gone now. There’s something in here with you, and it was smart enough to run when it made noise.

You raise your head, thinking about the best way to handle this situation, when your heart seizes in your chest.

What the fuck is that.

In one fluid movement, you jump to your feet, turning in the direction of the beach, and beginning to sprint down the slope. A screech cuts through the previously quiet air, piercing your ears enough to make you wince at the pitch.

And then you can hear it galloping behind you, hands and feet pounding against the spongy jungle ground. A scream rises in your throat, terrified to look behind you to see how fast this thing actually is.

You take the chance when you swing around a tree, stealing a glance over your shoulder.

Whatever it is, it’s demonic.

You’ve never seen anything like it. It’s coming at you on all fours, there’s hooves where its feet should be, with long and pointed nails on its fingers. Its fur is so black that you can’t make out where its eyes are, or if it has any skin exposed at all. It’s a beast straight out of one of your nightmares.

It isn’t fast by any means, but it’s not slow, either.

You can hear it tearing up a path behind you, trampling through the bushes, ripping bark off trees. As the path between the trees narrows, the jungle becomes more condensed. You hear less of it coming in contact with the ground, thumping replacing the noise.

Until it stops altogether.

Your instincts take over, jerking to the right, shoulder slamming into the tree. You watch in silence as the beast flies by where you were a second ago, claws out and ready to latch on. It comes into contact with the ground about ten feet away, head whipping unnaturally to see over its shoulder.

“No, no!” You let out, beginning to weave through the trees.

A snarl rips through its throat at the idea of you outsmarting it. It’s coming for you, and there’s nothing you can do besides run for your life and dodge it each time it tries to attack.

You play this game for what feels like an hour, but it can’t be more than twenty minutes. You make it half a mile down the slope, knowing that the beach can’t be that far away from where you are, when you realize that it’s gone. The monster that has been chasing you has given up.

You lean over your knees, mouth watering, throat beginning to close. As you gasp for air, your body tries to expel some of the heat by making you sweat, but all that’s doing is making you sick. You think you might throw up.

Right as you’ve come to terms with losing all the water and food in your body, spit falling from your mouth in long strings, a shadow on the ground grows larger. Your face twists, thinking that something must be falling, like a leaf.

It hits you, literally, flattening you against the ground, head hitting the dirt. It digs in, nails cutting through skin as it tears through your back and arms, shredding your jumpsuit. A scream leaves your lips, a white hot and blinding pain smothering you all at once.

Your hand tightens around the spear, cheek against Earth as the beast presses into your shoulders, keeping you from moving. Still, with the small amount of mobility you have, you swing the head of the spear up, toward yourself, narrowly missing your left shoulder.

It lodges into the beast, causing it to roar in pain. You shove the pole further back, hoping that it pushes into its body deeper. The weight on your shoulders disappears, you can hear it stumbling away.

In the window you have, you get back to your feet, ignoring the screaming pain your entire backside is in. You just need to make it to the beach, it’s not that far away, you’ve covered this distance in your sleep before. It’s harder to do, though, when every hard step you take makes you grit your teeth to keep from crying out.

The beast is catching up with you, recovering from its wound. It’s faster than you are, and it’s completely disregarding everything in its path. Nothing can slow it down. You can see the golden sand through the trees, you’re almost there.

A body jumps out from behind a bush, making you run into it. For a moment, you’re sure that it’s an exact replica of the monster behind you, but once you realize that you’re staring at another tribute jumpsuit, the panic subsides. But only for a second.

“Move!” You shriek, trying to get around him. He grabs the sides of your arms, holding you there.

You look up, finding that you’re standing face to face with the male tribute from Ten—someone who is not part of the rebel alliance, and doesn’t care whether or not you make it out alive. When you glance over your shoulder, you can see that the beast is getting closer. It’s not going to stop until it gets its hands on somebody.

And it won’t be you.

The only choice you have is to sacrifice him, so that’s exactly what you do. You jerk him around, switching places with him, forcing his back to the beast. His eyes widen, mouth opening to say something, when you pull back from him, lifting your leg to kick him in the chest.

The beast takes him gratefully, landing on his back. He stumbles forward, struggling under the weight of the beast. You watch in horror as its jaws unhinge, revealing razor sharp teeth. It throws its head back, before whipping forward, mouth securing around the tribute’s neck.

And with no resistance, he rips out a chunk of the flesh. A spray of blood hits you in the face, and it coats the jungle floor. You back away with wide eyes, watching as Ten’s legs can’t hold him up anymore, body collapsing in the dirt beneath the beast.

A cannon fires.

You turn, making the final push for the beach before it can come after you, too.

The moment your feet hit the sand, it begins to drag you down, keeping you from running as far away as your mind is screaming for you to go. You make it a few feet before landing on your hands and knees, sucking in sharp breaths and letting them out aggressively.

That was almost you. That could’ve been you.

You try to crawl, hands forming in fists in the sand, tears falling from your eyes.

“(Y/n)?” You hear. There’s a headache forming, black spots coming to eat away at the corners of your vision. “(Y/n), hey.”

A hand touching your lower back makes you swing a hand up to get them off. Your wrist is caught, eyes meeting Finnick’s, finding him worried.

“You’re okay, honey. I’m right here.” He pulls at your elbow to make you sit up on your knees.

You grab onto his shoulder, struggling to breathe, “It—it… The—”

Finnick takes your hand placing it against his chest. “Follow me.” He takes a deep breath, you try to follow, stuttering. He blows it out, you sob. “Come on, (Y/n). Just keep breathing. In and out.” You mimic his breaths, allowing them to even out. “You’re doing great.”

“Finnick.” You cry, head falling forward.

He cups your face with both hands, lifting your head. He’s only a couple inches away from you. “You’re safe with me, I’m not going to let anything happen to you.” He wipes your tears away with his thumbs. “Do you want to tell me what’s in there?”

You look away, eyes too intense to stare into. “A monster.”

this was part of my 3k celebration!!

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i-want-men-i-cant-have · 4 months

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✮ imagine kisaki dating you just to be closer to hina, your best friend. you knew her since you could remember and kisaki since cram school. you didn't have a real opinion on him and just thought he was the shy, studious type- nothing really special to write home about.

✮ but you were surprised when he confessed a little after hina started talking about a boy named takemichi and how he saved her. you don’t know why he confessed at all. you couldn't even think of a single reason. you never spoke; it was just you standing behind hina, waiting for her to finish complimenting him so you could go get popsicles at the park.

✮ the confession seemed fake- even something a little you could pick up on. it was like a robot, and not in the way he was confessing to himself in the mirror so many times; it was just dry. the confession had no heart to it. he wasn't even blushing and looking down, flickering his eye to you and the ground and spilling out, “i like like you!” it was just bland. so bland, in fact, you forgot every single word of it even while listening to it.

✮ but you were also young and thought a boyfriend would make you cooler, so you accepted it. also because you didn’t want to be left behind from hina and her ever-growing relationship with takemichi.

✮ when you asked him why he liked you a few weeks into the relationship, he said something about how you were like a plant and didn't get on his nerves. you didn't talk to him for a week after that.

✮ but when middle school started is when you were questioning the relationship. sure, it was weird to date someone and then move into middle school. the new personalities and new friend groups would naturally cause conflicts, but you were determined to keep on dating the guy. so determined it clouded your thoughts on the real underlying reason he even wanted to date you. you also didn't want to question if he liked you just to have a repeat of the plant comment.

✮ you were still friends with hina in middle school, going from a friend to a best friend if takemichi didn't already fit that role with a boyfriend. you were jealous of him, spending so much time with her after school. you didn’t know if that was the real reason or maybe jealous of their relationship. kisaki looked at you and spent time with you, yes, but it all seemed so artificial. like some alien trying to blend into the real world disguised as a cow with purple spots in a field of grass.

✮ it all changed, or spiraled when he met some guy, oniinii, osanii, osanai? he said you have your friends and he can have his, so you shouldn't judge, so you didn’t. you let him be. after all, relationships are built on trust and understanding.

✮ now the only time he wants to hang out is when you make an offside comment about how hina was going to be there or you were hanging out with hina. you thought it was just a way for him to be less awkward around you- a third person to brighten up the mood and keep the conversation from coming to an awkward pause. still, when you mentioned other names, he just hummed and continued to study for an upcoming test while you sat on his bed staring at the tv.

✮ after about a month of this, you were a little more than mad. you wanted to stay in the relationship for a reason you couldn’t pin down. you wanted to think it was because you liked him and his calming presence. you shoved down the feeling of being stubborn; a year plus relationship with someone wasn't a lot, but to you, it was. you’ve stuck with him for a year; he’s the first and only guy to confess to you. then you pushed down the feeling of not wanting to be alone, just having friends- nothing special like a boyfriend in sight.

✮ so you started shoving more and more dates in his face if one date a week was bombarding. you just wanted a simple lunch date with him on the weekend, drink something nice, and maybe eat a sweet with him and talk about your week.

✮ but he would slowly start to ditch it more and more as the weeks passed. the first and second week were the best because he actually showed up and stayed. you would carry the conversation, assuming he was awkward, but it was overall a nice time- calm and comfortable.

✮ but he would slowly slip farther and farther from your date plans. you didn’t want to question it the first few times he left as he said osanai needed him and you assumed he was just tutoring the poor guy. you didn't want to judge people based on their appearance, an appearance you had yet to see but from the sound of it he could be a delinquent. besides, kisaki was leaving money to pay for his and maybe your meal if you didn’t talk a lot. yet as the weeks passed, your thoughts of the tutoring switched to your boyfriend getting bullied by the gang member you only know the name of.

✮ kisaki did catch onto your worry and he told you not to worry. he had told you osanai was his friend. he had told you osanai needed some help with homework. he had told you him and osanai needed to finish a last-minute project. excuses, excuses and more excuses.

✮ now the only dates you even get are the spur-of-the-moment ones which you force him to go on. even then, he leaves early, leaving more and more cash on the table each time to cover the bill.

✮ and then came hanma. you remembered that man's name the first time you heard it. you hated the way he looked at you. he had this look as if to tell you he knew so much more than you. like he knew something you didn't. not to mention his laugh whenever you left the room. your room. they would talk and discuss whatever teenagers talk about in your room, food crumbs on your bed left by the new boy.

✮ your boyfriend and his new replacement for osanai even used kisaki's room. you know this from kisaki telling you randomly, as if to diffuse your anger after a long day. but then hanma said he liked the vibe of yours so they used it more. you had a feeling he was just making up excuses so he could get a mini maid, you.

✮ you were afraid of the new replacement of osanai. you don’t even think kisaki remembers him, which pisses you off more than you’d like to admit because he spent more time with him than you.

✮ hanma got under your skin in more ways than one. he never got mad at you, never even raising a hand to hit you. it was that look he gave you that made you hate him so much, not the amount of time he spent with your boyfriend.

✮ when you yelled at the tall boy for smoking in your room, he laughed and told you not to worry about it so much because he did it out the window. you were on the verge of shoving him out the window if he kept up being himself.

✮ but the reason you probably hated hanma so much was that you had more of a relationship with him than the boy you were in a relationship with.

✮ now, you remember those dates kisaki left you for with osanai? now he was leaving with hanma every time he apologized quicker and quicker. each time he left, he would leave a wad of cash greater and greater than the last. you didn’t want to question the money; it was his life after all. it also would mostly cover the tab and sometimes leave you some extra money. one of these times you had enough left over to buy him a present, and with your anniversary coming up, you wanted to buy him something- it was his money after all.

✮ you liked the present having thought about it for a while now. you had decided on a mini pig phone charm, remembering how they were one of the smartest animals in that one documentary you watched a few years ago. you also remembered he didn’t like dumb people, something he brought up when you asked what the amount of money the tip would be. it was the perfect anniversary gift! so perfect in fact you bought a matching one so you could even remember you had a boyfriend!

✮ and a week after your anniversary when you walked into your room, you saw hanma sitting on your bed, looking at his phone while something played in the background. that little pig charm was dangling from his phone, almost taunting you. even that stupid pig was giving you the pitting look hanma would always give you, only this time hanma had a smile on his face watching as your eyes followed the animal sway side to side. side to side on your boyfriends best friends phone.

✮ when you ran to the bathroom to call hina, kisaki was knocking on the door a few minutes after you burst out of your own room. he sounded so… dissatisfied. so unfazed. like he was forced to do it, but you knew better than to believe it was hanma who did it. could it be? your boyfriend was actually trying to care for you? did he actually appreciate all that time you spent trying to love and care for him? did he love your date ideas? did he love you?

✮ no.

“can you stop crying? it’s annoying and i can’t focus.”

✮ tetta kisaki must die.

you slam opened the door to his face, watching as he stumbled back into the wall, paying no attention to the prying eyes and ears of hanma from down the hall. “shut up! just shut up already! why is it the one time i need you to not talk you finally open your mouth?! you’re always so quiet around me! i’m the person you're supposed to open up around, and you don't! the one time you should say something- anything nice to cheer me up, you tell me I'm annoying!”

“are you… breaking up with me?”

“what else do you expect?! i can’t call you by your first name! i get you something for our anniversary and you give it to your best friend! you never spend any time with me! you only want to spend time with hina, who has a boyfriend! i mean seriously, what’s wrong with you? have you just liked her this whole time!?” and with hanma's annoying laugh, it was solidified. he never even liked you in the first place. hanma knew. osanai probably knew. everyone knew but you.

“i hope you and hanma have a great life together kisaki.” you finally try and relax, keeping a steady breath looking down on your ex-boyfriend. “now get out. now.”

#｡˚꩜.no gunsHCs #random brain thought from this weeks episode #oniinii osanai #angst #x reader #kisaki x reader #kisaki tetta #kisaki is a bitch like always #kisaki x you #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers #tokyo rev #tokyo rev x reader #hanma x reader if you squint

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littlespoonevan · 23 days

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If you are looking for prompts.... Eddie and Tommy realising they unintentionally excluded Buck ?

ohohoho this was fun to write but Sad also bc eddie is clearly thinking one thing and tommy is clearly thinking many things and buck is off in his loft thinking many, Many things but i hope you like it, friend 💛

Eddie hobbles over to his couch with Tommy’s help.

“There you go, man,” Tommy says as he gets Eddie situated on the cushion. “You need anything?”

“Nah, I’m good,” Eddie replies, waving a hand. “There’s beer in the fridge though; help yourself.”

Tommy doesn’t take him up on the offer, instead moving to sit on the coffee table next to where Eddie’s propped up his injured leg.

“So, uh, Buck can get pretty competitive?” He says it like a question, nodding to Eddie’s wrapped ankle as if in proof and it’s, well-

“No, actually,” Eddie says, and he feels…stuck between a long-ingrained need to defend Buck and confusion as to how they ended up here in the first place.

Because this isn’t like Buck. Because Buck usually spends his every waking minute actively trying to keep Eddie out of harm’s way. He sure as hell is never the cause. And Eddie knows he didn’t mean to, is the thing. But just calling it a simple accident doesn’t feel quite right either.

“I don’t-” he starts and then reconsiders what he’d planned to say. “Honestly, Buck’s been a little off this week so I think…”

He trails off. It feels weird talking about Buck with someone who isn’t close to them, who doesn’t just implicitly gets all the intricate mental gymnastics behind Buck’s every action.

Then again, Eddie’s not sure if anyone is actually as adept at figuring out how Buck gets from A to Z as he is.

“Is it because of me?” Tommy asks and he looks genuinely concerned.

Eddie replays every conversation he’s had with Buck this past week – every too bright smile Buck flashed him, every enthusiastic assertion that he thought it was great Eddie had a new friend – and then he, inexplicably, thinks about when he first joined the 118 and some things slot into place.

“I think he was maybe a little worried,” Eddie allows. “That I was replacing him with you.”

Tommy’s eyes do a slow, deliberate sweep of the living room and the multiple photo frames of him, Buck and Christopher on the mantel and the side table before he looks back to Eddie. “Is that even possible?”

Eddie shakes his head, letting out a laugh. “I mean, no. Obviously. But Buck just- sometimes he needs reminding how much he means to people.”

Guilt settles between his ribs then. He’s been too distracted this week, too excited about having someone he had so much in common with around to talk to. If he’d taken half a second to look a little closer he would’ve realised Buck was spiralling.

“I should’ve spoken to him,” he sighs. “Reassured him that we weren’t trying to exclude him.”

Tommy frowns. “You really think that’s how he felt? I thought you said he never wanted to play basketball when you asked?”

“I think it was more than just the basketball,” Eddie says, wincing – the memory of him asking Buck to babysit instead of coming to the bar with them feels particularly bad.

Tommy nods slowly, mind clearly working. He’s quiet for so long Eddie thinks about telling him not to worry about it, that he’ll deal with it, but then-

“Why don’t I go talk to him?” he suggests, confident and sure. “Clear the air? I don’t want him to think I’m trying to get in the middle of you two.”

It takes Eddie by surprise. There’s a strangely defensive part of him that wants to say he and Buck don’t need anyone to mend their fences for them but he shoves the thought aside and reminds himself that’s not what Tommy means. Buck had sought Tommy out too last week and they’d seemed to get along. Maybe Tommy wants to clear the air for his own sake.

So he says, “Yeah,” probably a few seconds too late and makes himself smile. “Normally I’d be the one driving to his house and forcing him to talk. But I guess I’m kind of out of commission right now.”

He nods at his foot and Tommy laughs, pushing himself up off the couch to stand. “Well, hey, I’ll be sure to pass on your regards.”

“Thanks,” Eddie snorts.

Tommy claps him on the shoulder as he rounds the couch. “Don’t forget to take those pain pills, man. I’ll let you know how things go with Evan.”

He calls the rest of his sentence over his shoulder as he heads for the door and Eddie manages a half-hearted, “Will do,” as he hears the click of the latch.

And he feels…how Buck has felt all week, probably. Confused and irritated and a little possessive. Like Tommy’s stealing his job. As if Eddie hadn’t just told him it was fine. As if Eddie could even make it over to Buck’s place right now. At least he managed to hold back the petty, “His name is Buck,” that had immediately rose up in his throat as soon as Tommy had called him Evan.

Shaking his head, he reaches for the paper bag with his prescription that Tommy had left on the coffee table.

He’ll talk to Buck tomorrow and everything will be fine.

#my fics #7x04 #911 related #eddie diaz #tommy kinard #buddie #or like buddie adjacent #also bucktommy adjacent #asks #anon

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beforeimdeceased · 8 months

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WELCOME TO THE PARTY — ABBY ANDERSON ༄₊🫧➳

tlou2 is based on the israeli occupation of palestine, how you can help

pairing: ex!abby x reader

synopsis: you try to escape the thoughts of your ex with a little partying and she shows up to ruin it all.

content: oral (r!receiving)

author’s note: thank u so much for 1.2k i love this little community we’ve got on here! you guys make me so happy i can’t thank you enough <3

“I can’t even enjoy this stupid fucking party, Oh my god!”

You were currently spiraling in a far corner of the bustling house. Drink in hand with a scowl on your face. You take a sip of the liquid, letting it slide down your throat and settle into your stomach. You were waiting for the buzz to kick in and ease your nerves.

You’d just seen Abby, your ex, prancing in with another girl on her arm. A very pretty and smiley girl who you’d never seen before. You were wondering how they’d met and what they’d talked about when Dina came over to snap you out of your thoughts.

“You’re not gonna let her ruin your fun, right?” She gently rubs your arm and you’re so touch starved the gesture nearly makes you cry. It’s been a week since you’d parted ways with the blonde, and the lack of her presence was weighing down on you. You’d missed her smile, her kind eyes, and the way she always knew how to make you laugh.

But she wasn’t perfect. Neither were you, you couldn’t be. Tension grew in the relationship. You went from wanting to be around each other all the time, to avoiding each other at all costs. If you saw her post that she was at the gym, you were making an illegal u-turn in the middle of the road to avoid seeing her. That wasn’t a relationship, and it had to end.

Funny how you were still avoiding her.

“Dina I can’t dance, I’m gonna be sick.” You hold your stomach, tugging against Dina’s grip on your arm. She looks at you empathetically, placing a kiss on the back of your hand. “Babe, Are you going to stop functioning properly because of her? Forever?”

Before you can respond, commotion ensues. Ellie can be heard cursing following the sound of glass breaking and a crash. “Okay, hold on. I’ve gotta stitch up my girlfriend.” She rolls her eyes before rushing into the direction of the noise. A crowd of people swallow her, keeping you from following her.

You decide you need to just wash your face off in the bathroom, and get your ass out there. Abby is just another girl that got away. She’s clearly moved on, so why can’t you? You weren’t going to let her sour your night. Plus, Dina was your ride and you had to wait for her to fix Ellie up.

You can’t get the bathroom downstairs open, and after asking about 7 intoxicated people you find safety in the basement. There everyone was either high, tripping, or both. More importantly, they were not paying attention to who was going into the bathroom in the far left corner.

It was big, which was unsurprising considering how large the basement and the house was itself. Incredibly clean and it looked like the perfect hideout spot. You decided you’d stay in there scrolling through your phone until Dina sent her usual “where r u?” text.

The familiar sound of the ping on your phone interrupts you mindlessly moving your thumb. Out of the corner of your eye you catch the first letter of the sender, and nearly throw your phone.

Abby ❌: Where’d you run off to?

Was that meant for you? Did you want to find out? You stare at the message letting your eyes unfocus. Biting your lip you ready yourself to respond, but you’re stopped by the three dots indicating she’s typing.

Abby ❌: You in the basement?

You wish the window in there was bigger, because it would’ve made escaping a lot easier. Instead of responding, you look for the easiest solution to your new found problem, which happened to be the door. You open it, and a presently surprised Abby is on the other end smiling at you.

“Oh, you opened it for me?” You walk back as she walks in and watch as she closes and locks the door. “You’re still so sweet.”

“Where’s your friend?” You ask, arms crossed. It was upsetting you that you were so jealous, but it made sense. The end of your relationship was rocky, but you’d still only broken up a week ago. The wound was fresh, and she was poking her fingers in it.

“I don’t know, probably making out with someone upstairs.”

Realization hits you and you’d never admit it but you felt relief. Abby can read you though, she knows you better than anyone. A wide smile spread on her stupid cocky face.

“Were you jealous?” She tilts her head a bit and it makes you bite the inside of your cheek. She’d always tilt her head while she was deep inside of you. Chuckle and ask “You like that?” As if you could even fucking answer with how hard she was fucking you. The memory sends a shiver through your entire body, and it delays your response. She takes note of that as well and your body language. Arms crossing and uncrossing while her eyes trailed up and down your body.

She was looking at you like she was struggling to contain herself. You could almost see her thoughts projected over her head. “I miss you. I miss fucking you.”

“Would it be wrong for me to be jealous?” You back up towards the sink, catching a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. Another memory of her with her hand over your mouth, pounding into you mercilessly, flooded your mind. She takes note of this before moving closer to you.

Her body is close enough that if you reached out, you would be touching her freckle speckled skin. You fear that if you don’t lean into her, you’ll tip over. That you’ll fall splat on the cold bathroom tile. That you’ll sink into the ground and disappear, if you don’t touch her right fucking now.

“I guess not.” She leans over towards you, and you think she’s moving in to wrap you in a hug, but she’s just pushing past to look in the mirror. She notices how your face falls at her movements, and turns to look at you.

“Someone has to be honest here. Want me to start?”

No was at the tip of your tongue before her lips crashed into yours. She cups your face and you almost don’t notice her backing you up against the sink. Your back hits the edge of it, causing it to arch and your head to lean back. Abby takes the opening, latching her lips onto your jaw and then your neck.

“I fucking hate you so much right now.” You close your eyes, body contradicting your words. You lean into her strong and firm arms. Pulling your body into hers. “I hate how I couldn’t go a week without you.” Is breathless and desperate as it leaves your tongue.

She’s on her knees now, positioned in between your legs. She struggles to remain composed enough to tease you. Lustrous desire causing her mouth to salivate. You help her get your pants off, kicking them to the side, before her fingers loop into the band of your underwear. “It wasn’t easy for me either.” She pulls them down in a frenzy. “I missed the way you moaned my name.”

She latches her tongue to your heat, swirling a harsh circle against your sensitive bud. You would’ve lost your balance if she wasn’t holding your legs open and up with her arms. fingers on the inner corners of your cunt, spreading you wide for her. There was no mercy, and no slowing down. Her mission was to make you see stars.

“Fuck.” Is all you can let out and she hums against you in agreement. The vibration sending a wave of pleasure straight to your core. You tangle your hands in her hair, grappling at it to keep her right where you needed her.

And she never fails to deliver. Tongue buried into your walls while her nose swipes against your clit. You bite back a moan which causes her to move her hand and squeeze your ass, pushing the sound out of you. It’s clear and melodic, music to her ears. If anyone happened to walk in she wouldn’t want to stop. She wanted to hear more from you. She needed to.

You can barely hold back your orgasm. With the way she has you spread completely open for her, entire face buried into you moaning against your cunt. You let the wave rush over you, eyes rolling back into your head as her name rolls off your tongue.

You shake a bit, overwhelmed from the high and her face still buried between your legs. Now is when you feel a bit disappointed in yourself. At how hard it was to stay away, how easy it was to give into her, and how you’re going to have to explain this to Dina.

Abby kisses up and down your inner legs, catching all of your juices on her tongue. It feels so good before you hear that damn ding from your phone once again. She reaches over to grab it out of your pants pocket and hand it to you. Speak of the devil.

Dina 💖: where r u?

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alwritey-aphrodite · 2 months

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❛ keep it. it looks better on you. ❜ tasm peter 👀👀👀

With summer right around the corner, you’ve stopped listening to news stations and weathermen and starting listening to your heart when it comes to the forecast for the day. In your mind, it will always be sunny and warm, and maybe the longer you continue to dress for that weather, the more the universe will get the hint and finally turn spring into summer after the everlasting winter you’d had.

“It’s supposed to get cold again today,” Peter warns when he sees your bare legs and arms as you meet him on the steps of your building, the crooked smile on his face enough to surpass the sun. Ever since you stopped listening to professionals, Peter’s taken it upon himself to be your own professional meteorologist, keeping you up to date on all forecasts. Most of the time, you humor him and grab a coat.

“I’ve decided it’s summer,” you say as you descend the last few concrete steps, making it clear that you don’t intend to go back up and change, even though you’re already a bit chilly with the breeze. Still, it’s too late in the year for you to keep bundling up every time you leave your house, so you’ll just grin and bear it and let Peter say ‘I told you so’ when the time comes.

That time comes much sooner than you’d like, the wind picking up and the sun hiding behind the clouds as you and Peter walk through the park near your building following lunch, too broke to pay to get in anywhere and too restless to go inside. You’ve got your arms wrapped around your middle, one on top of the other to keep you as warm as possible, and your teeth are so close to chattering you can barely focus on the story Peter’s telling you of his disastrous attempt to surprise May.

It all happens so fluidly, you don’t fully realize what’s happened until it’s over. Still in the middle of his story and tilting his head to look over at you every so often, Peter unzips his hoodie and shrugs it off before draping it over your shoulders, and your body responds before your brain can process and slides your arms into the sleeves. It’s long on you, perfect for Peter’s lanky frame, and the hem brushes against your bare thighs as you walk, but you’re so blessedly warm you can barely think of the implications.

Peter doesn’t seem bothered by the cold at all, hands stuffed in his pockets and his deceptively strong biceps on display in his t-shirt as he keeps telling his story like nothing out of the ordinary just happened. Your brain is still in a spiral, and you can’t focus on anything other than the fact that you’re wearing Peter’s hoodie, and it’s soft and warm and smells like him, and you have to stop yourself from tucking your nose in and inhaling.

The sun soon makes its return, glinting through the trees and illuminating Peter’s profile that you’re fully convinced he’s an angel, even though you’ve had your suspicions before. As the sun warms the air, you go to slip your arms back out of the hoodie and hand it back to Peter, but he’s already stopping you with gentle hands, pulling the sweatshirt back into place on your shoulders.

“Keep it, it looks better on you,” he tells you, accompanied by one of those signature Peter smiles that always makes your heart stop, and paired with what he just said you’re certain you’ll drop dead on the spot. He just tilts his head, still grinning, still framed by the sun like he’s emitting his own light, and then he just goes on walking, as if he doesn’t know the effect he has on you.

Luckily, your legs manage to work as your brain struggles to keep up, running into overdrive as it starts and sputters like an old car over what just happened. Peter keeps glancing over at you, like he expects something of you, but he continues with that innocent expression that leaves you baffled because he has to know the effect he has on you, with his gentle touches and soft smiles and beautiful voice. He slips his hands from his pockets, swinging them by his side as he walks and brushing against your knuckles, and now you're certain: Peter Parker will be the death of you.

#tasm peter parker #tasm!peter x reader #tasm!peter x you #peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #tasm!peter imagine #tasm fanfiction #the amazing spider man #peter parker fanfiction

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teddypickerry · 10 months

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A teen!dad jess. He has a best friend from New York (she can have a name or it can be Y/N, you can choose) (they are endgame, jess never had feelings for Rory but she has feelings for Jess, it won't go anywhere) Jess and his best friend have a kid, they co-parent (whether they are dating already or in the future is up to you) Jess gets sent to Stars Hallow, she ends up moving to stars Hallow to, to be close to Jess and so their kid can be with him too (she is emancipated, plus Jess knows she's coming because they keep in contact) if anyone reading this would like to turn this into an actual story, I'm totally down for reading it :) if you choose this request, I look forward to reading it. Thank you!!

↯ 𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐈 𝐆𝐎 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐆𝐎?

pairings — teen dad! jess mariano x y/n

warnings — none!! (unedited tho so…)

word count — 2.9k

a/n — i’m not the biggest fan of how this turned out (feels lowk out of character even tho i typically write jess best bc i am him), but i LOVEDDDD this plot. i plan on making a part two if that’s something you guys would want!! also dad! jess is my fav (as you guys know) so to have him be bowie’s dad??? FUCKING LOVEEE.

BEING SENT TO STARS HOLLOW was worse than one would imagine. especially for jess mariano, a kid who'd been taken from his hometown and placed in a small apartment above a diner with an uncle he hardly knows. this would be enough to drive one mad, one could presume. but to make matters worse, he was leaving behind his son.

the moment liz danes found out her sixteen year old son had gotten a girl pregnant, she freaked out. as any mother would do. but liz wasn't just any mother, she was (to put it lightly) a whack-job. so she spiraled when she figured this one out. what happened when liz danes spiraled you may ask? who was there for her? her sane big brother, luke.

the practical idea seemed to be sending jess to the quaint down of stars hollow. a place where liz grew up, where she knew luke would keep an eye on him. where she also knew he couldn't cause any havoc. and his world wouldn't become corrupt like hers, being a teen parent.

the months of the pregnancy was difficult to be away. y/n was just a girl he'd met at a party, he was sick and tired of his mother's new boyfriend's hurtful words. y/n was going through something similar and they decided they'd lean on one another one night. until three weeks later when she called jess asking him to coffee, and surprising him with something much more. y/n was scared, as any pregnant sixteen year old would be. being without jess didn't help her case.

the teenage boy didn't let the separation get to them however. his nights sneaking out were spent at a phone booth in the middle of town, talking to y/n about everything and anything. his breaks at the diner were calling to ask about doctors appointments. sure, she had just been a girl he'd met at a party. but the emotional bond of a baby knitted the two together. they were scared kids, they had no one but one another. so they became much more than kids who once went to a party. they were friends.

when y/n went into labor, jess ran out of school like his life depended on it. hoping into his car and speeding back to new york. luckily making it so he could see his son born just in time. his first time meeting his son was only his fourth time seeing y/n. the fourth of many, many visits. stars hollow became less and less entertaining to him as time went on. especially after coming back almost two weeks after his son was born. the pranks, the stealing, the teasing around with this girl rory... it wasn't anything to him. he missed his son, he missed the woman who had his son. jess mariano wanted to be with his family. because for the first time in his life, he had a family. someone loved him, and he loved someone.

"1984 is the most overrated 'classic' book i've ever read," rory gilmore smiled at jess with a teasing look. now, almost a year after his son's birth, jess mariano was nearing eighteen. his adolescence was coming to an end (although it did when the stick turned pink). the toying around was still very much in his nature. hence the conversation with the good girl in a pink sweater.

"nu uh, it's a classic. you can't just hate on 1984," jess counters while standing behind the diner's countertop. the diner was slow, despite it being around the early afternoon and a sunday. which is why two teenagers were sharing false opinions like it was bible. he didn't like her — he was sure of that. ever since bowie mariano was born (guess who named him), jess's feelings had become aware. the love he felt for his son was prominent in his everyday life. unlike anything he'd ever felt before. it was hard for him to even imagine ever having feelings for someone. not when being a dad was his number one priority.

"you're just saying that," rory laughed at his words once more. her late night talks with her mother about jess seeming to not be recalled. the ones where lorelai stressed to rory what jess was going through as a teen parent, something she knew all too well. especially being away from his kid. in her eyes, he was a christopher who'd left his rory. lorelai didn't exactly want her daughter involved with that. but it was hard to resist when he kept giving rory that james dean look. matched with the leather jacket and the book references.

"when are you going to see bowie?" lorelai asked the teenage boy, attempting to remind her daughter of his priorities. jess didn't see this as a question with ulterior motives. he knew lorelai had a deep understanding of him, whether she'd like to admit it or not. "soon, hopefully."

"is y/n liking her new place?" luke questions genuinely from lorelai's side, being reminded of jess's child's mother who he'd grown fond of. "it's kinda hard to like a place where you're crashing on your friend's sofa bed." jess scoffs, being reminded of his friend's condition. when y/n had first gotten pregnant, jess was aware of the darkness in her home. especially when she freaked out to him one night. the first time they opened up to one another. she was too scared to tell her dad about the baby, knowing he'd hurt her.

less than two years later, y/n was emancipated. working a part-time job in the city. where her friends helped watch bowie when necessary. along with (hesitantly) liz, whenever jess made sure she was sober and had an okay boyfriend. it was a lonely life: just like jess's.

"that poor girl," lorelai commented with a sympathetic look making jess's stomach twist. he hated thinking about the living conditions of his family, he hated thinking of being apart from them. but when he did, he couldn't stop. which is why that night, when luke came upstairs to the apartment after closing, jess stopped him to have a serious conversation. "can i talk to you?"

luke searched his nephew's face for sincerity once he heard those words. curious if this was gonna be a 'steely dan sucks' conversation or an actual serious one. a rare option for the teenage boy. "yeah, what's up?"

there was a deep expression anguished on jess's face as he sat at the table. he was clearly unsure how to put his words, which was prominent in his eyes. "i... i can't be away from bowie anymore. i can't let y/n live in that shithole. they're my responsibility."

luke heard his nephew's words clearly. he agreed with every word, a sigh erupting when he processed the stress his teenage nephew was experiencing over this. "where are you going with this, jess?" the diner owner questioned with a calm tone. he still wanted the best for his nephew. he still wanted him to finish high school and start a worthy life. one he didn't want to be started by running off to new york and working to provide for his family. "i need to be with them one way or another. i can't be away from bowie, i can't do that to my kid. i can't be my dad."

"you're not, kid. you're nothing like jimmy, i'm telling you that right now. you would do anything to be with bowie and that proves you're better than him," luke explained before letting out a sigh and nodding his head. "you're a good guy, jess."

a conversation continued throughout the night until the two finally came to a conclusion. or at least luke did. taking matters into his own hands, he picked up the phone once his nephew hit the pillow. a hushed tone rushing into verses of explanations until it all made sense.

the next morning, jess mariano woke up like any other day. not too long after he woke up he went down to the diner to get started on work. his thanksgiving break had begun, so his monday would be spent annotating a new book for his son in between rush hours. it was when two familiar faces entered the diner that he hardly glanced up, noticing the gilmores immediately. "hey jess, how's it going?"

"well, i'm not bleeding or anything so..." jess shrugged towards the woman while he scribbled in a final note for an older bowie. rory kept her eyes on him while luke handed the two mugs of coffee. he had something in his head, especially when he kept glancing out the window every few seconds. "that's good," lorelai nodded before turning to luke.

"what are you reading now? more jane austen?" rory teased while eyeing the boy and taking a sip of her warm coffee. his eyes didn't dare look up from her while he shut the book, "uh huh." he nodded with a thin lipped smile. rory noticed the children's book in his hands and grinned, "didn't know you were that behind. that makes sense with your book taste though."

"this is bowie's, i'm just writing some stuff in the margins for him for when he learns to read," jess shrugged without noticing the sudden change in demeanor when he mentioned his son. the baby had never been to stars hollow. jess also rarely brought up his son to anyone, especially stars hollow-ers. miss patty and babette already whispered about the rebellion enough as it was. he didn't need to add to it by opening up to people who didn't care about him. "oh... that's sweet," rory forced a smile before sinking down into her seat. she felt shorter.

jess picked up the coffee to begin to refill a few cups throughout the diner. his stance was interrupted once the diner phone began to ring, luke noticed this quickly. it wasn't long before he grabbed the coffee from jess's hand and hardly offered to do refills for him instead. jess knew luke was up to something but hesitantly took the phone call, "luke's."

"nice greeting," a voice echoed on the other side making jess's infamous smirk spread across his face. y/n. "well, i thought i'd ask you to marry me. but i was worried our meat supplier was on the other line," jess teased into the phone while his hand went in his pocket. he subconsciously turned around so his back was to the rest of the diner. wanting to be alone with y/n, as if that was possible through this.

"thought so," y/n hummed with an obvious smile. "hey, bowie's missing his dad."

"is bowie's mom also missing bowie's dad?" jess asked with his typical teasing tone towards his friend. "bowie's mom may be. but she doesn't exactly want to give him the satisfaction of that. bowie's dad is very cocky," y/n says through the phone while luke spots something through the window and smiles.

the sound of the bell was a familiar one. reminding the people in the diner that someone had arrived. jess was so used to it now that he didn't bat an eye typically, but this time he glanced around his shoulder for a moment. his eyes glancing back at the figure stood infront of the door. jess's brown eyes locked on them for a second as he dropped the wired phone and bolted past the counter to them.

stood before his eyes was y/n and bowie. the eleven month old was in her arms with a pacifier between his lips. y/n wore a smile while she placed her phone in her pocket with a free hand. she was engulfed in jess's scent immediately as he threw the two into his arms. cigarettes, cheap cologne, and coffee erupting comfortably into her. "hey, watch out i have a baby."

jess ignored her words, but lightened his grip on her while taking bowie out of her arms to hold him. "bowie, hey..." his voice trailed off as he held onto his son. he was interrupted with emotion by being with his son once again. because as much as fatherhood was something he never wished upon himself, ever desired whatsoever, it had turned into the best thing that ever happened to him.

"hi kid," luke greeted the teenage girl while walking over to give her a side hug. he turned his attention towards jess who was hugging his baby with a grin he hadn't seen in awhile. "i thought about our talk last night, jess. you were right."

jess glanced over at his uncle before looking back at y/n with a smile. which shocked even him, because a smile was not something he'd done while being in stars hollow. "so..." luke's voice trailed off while he gave the floor to y/n. who took it and looked at jess, "i think bowie needs to be with his dad... and his mom."

the group shared a few looks, mixed with confusion and happiness. "i asked lorelai for a favor, y/n and bowie are gonna stay at the inn for a few weeks. until you guys can figure out a place." luke started with a nod. "you're gonna be eighteen in a few months, you're gonna graduate in a few months. i want you to do that, jess. so, i brought you some courage... as cheesy as that sounds."

jess looked between the two for a moment before sharing a nod with his uncle, as if a thank you in their own language.

"hey, i'm lorelai. it's nice to meet you i've heard so much about you. we seem to have a lot in common," lorelai interjected as she walked over and introduced herself to y/n. y/n knew her fair share of scoop of the town. her daily phone calls to jess were hardly just baby talk. she'd spent a lot of them telling him to go out with lorelai's daughter, who seemed good for him. but every-time... something was holding him back. "yeah you too, i'm y/n. thank you for everything, by the way. you really didn't have to let me."

"c'mon we're moms, we help eachother out. we can be like desperate housewives. but with no men," lorelai smiled while giving y/n's hand a squeeze. "oh! this is my bowie, rory."

"hey," y/n greeted with an awkward wave towards the other teenage girl who still seemed in shock by the situation. she forced a smile and waved, "hey."

the dispute was a lot more awkward than y/n could have hoped. but a sense of envy had taken over the both of them as they reflected on past or current relations with jess. an awkwardness that washed away quickly when y/n’s eyes locked back on jess and her son. a favorite sight of hers.

“c’mon,” jess nodded towards y/n while she took the baby out of his arms. he grabbed her bag and placed a free hand on her back, mumbling goodbyes before exiting the diner with his two. the three took the scenic tour towards the inn. bowie cracking a million smiles at the tons of birds in sight. the two teenagers reciprocating the action with shared giggles at the baby’s happiness.

the moment they entered the room, jess sat down with bowie to let y/n unpack a little bit. while the two caught up on unspoken things. “so… that was rory,” y/n says suggestively while unpacking her toiletries in the bathroom. jess was sprawled out on the bed with bowie in his arms, playing superman. he turned to her once she erupted from the bathroom and took a seat beside him. “that was rory.”

“she’s pretty,” y/n nodded with a small smile. in an attempt to be polite about jess’s possible love interest, yet he seemed hardly interested when bowie was around. “i guess,” jess shrugged before holding bowie back up in his arms. “have you asked her out yet?”

“i’m not too focused on that,” jess answered while clearly wanting the conversation to be done. y/n only smiled at the sight of the baby, gently rubbing his back. jess’s eyes locked onto her once more. watching her look at bowie with all the love made his eyes gleam. the way her smile spread with love, only made his heart beat faster happily. “thanks.”

y/n glanced over to him at his word, furrowing her eyebrows gently while she looked into his eyes. “for what?”

“for being here, i guess.” he mumbles while turning back to face bowie and bring him closer to him, the baby resting his head on jess’s chest. y/n smiled at the sight while leaning into the pillow, happily watching the two. “of course.”

so, the two laid back into the bed. smiling at the sight of their baby falling into a comforting sleep. followed by y/n minutes later, at a moment of peace. finally having someone she trusted with her baby so she could peacefully have a break. jess shut his eyes to the sound of the light breaths of both his favorite people. never having felt something so perfect once again in his life.

#teddypickerry #gilmore girls #jess mariano x reader #lorelai gilmore #jess mariano #rory gilmore #jess mariano x y/n #luke danes #dad jessmariano #dad jess mariano series #teen dad jess mariano #jess mariano x fem reader

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ghostbeam · 8 months

Text

charcoal artist!dabi x reader, first meeting, takes place before the other drabbles, he is a bit of a creep, his feelings sort of boarder on obsession, dabi is taller than you, suggestive language at the very end but it’s barely anything

He’s staring at you.

Eye’s flickering in between you and the spiral sketchbook in his lap. Concentrated, eyebrows furrowed, hand flying furiously across the page. You aren’t sure how you hadn’t noticed him before with his dark hair sticking in all different directions, black boots heavy on the grass, sapphire eyes piercing, lost in you, in the page. No one’s ever looked at you like this, you think.

You’re trying to be discreet, looking back down at your book when you see his eyes rise from the page. You’re not retaining a single bit of information as you’re suddenly focused on what he might think of you, how much of you he’s noticed, if you’re sitting weird, if your face looks wrong while reading. You think he’s cute, pretty, almost delicate, all eyelashes.

You turn the page, not having read the previous one, and then look back up at him. Except this time, your eyes meet. Your breath hitches. It’s a little bit electrifying, paralyzed by his stare like you’re the one who got caught instead of the other way around.

Dabi feels his jaw fall open slightly at the sight of you, staring straight at him. Had you seen him? Did you know? He watches you close your book, not even checking to mark your place. You stand up, still looking at him. Dabi feels his heart drop to his stomach. You’ll call him a creep. You’ll run away.

“Can I see?” He doesn’t know how he hadn’t noticed you getting closer. You’re all he can focus on, but you’ve surprised him. Can I see? Dabi thinks about the first time he saw you, right under that same tree, some text book bigger than his body sat in your lap. He felt the breath knocked out of him like some lovesick sap, not like himself. He didn’t even know you, but god, he wished for you. He did, like some idiot standing in the middle of the walkway closing his eyes and wishing on nothing, wishing on, well, you.

Standing in front of him now, he sees now more than he ever has before that you’re every piece of art he’s ever loved all wrapped up in one. One portrait of you would be enough to satisfy him for a life time.

Only that’s not true, because he hasn’t been able to stop drawing you. It’s not enough, to sit across from you and capture your likeness in strokes of black charcoal. Over and over and over again, your cheeks, and your hair, and your lips in a pout, and your eyebrows all pinched. He can’t get enough. It’s almost miserable, except it’s heaven.

And now here you are, standing over him and looking at him expectantly. Part of him wants to hide it away, keep it for himself, but that’s not fair because it’s you. It really belongs to you, should be yours, but Dabi is nothing if not a little possessive.

Standing this close to him, you can see all of him, the pink puckered skin that spreads over him in various spots, the bit of black around his fingertips, the sun shining in his eyes. God, his eyes are blue. Could that color ever be mixed, replicated, brushed onto a canvas and still make you feel the way looking into his eyes right now does? You don’t think it could, and you don’t see the point in asking the man who works with charcoal before you.

“It’s me, right? You’ve been, um, looking over there, so I thought…” You speak, suddenly afraid that it wasn’t you he was focused on. The thought of him being lost in the scenery on the campus behind you suddenly makes more sense than him paying so much attention to you, but there’s no mistaking that his eyes were on you the last time you looked up.

“It’s you.” He manages to speak, suddenly very conscious of the rasp in his own voice. “You—I’ve seen you sitting there. Couldn’t help myself I guess.”

It’s one way to explain it, definitely less creepy than the fact that he saw you and felt like he might die unless he could put you to paper.

You hold your hand out, a little impatient, more out of excitement and a little nervousness than anything else. He stands up, and your struck with the fact that he’s much taller than you. He places the sketchpad in your hand, and you force yourself to look away from his face.

You fill the page, almost every blank space filled with your face in different expressions and your body sat in different positions. He had to have been sitting there for much longer than you though to have been able to draw all of these. It’s all you, but it’s him, this piece of him that he’s allowing you to look at, take a peak inside. You want to see more. You want all of him. You want to take and take and take, and not because he has you trapped in his pages, but because it’s not enough to know him through just these strokes and smudges. Even if he lets you keep this, you’ll look at it every day, this piece of his soul, and wish it was the real thing.

It’s the same way he’s felt about you for the past couple of days.

“Do you have more?” You ask him, a little breathless.

“Of you?” He asks, but he thinks that it was probably stupid of him to say. He feels exposed, but by his own words and the way you look at both the page and him like your seeing him in a way no one ever has before.

“Anything.” You shake your head. “All of it. I want to see it all, you—you’re very talented.”

You clear your throat awkwardly, the excitement, the desperation beginning to feel embarrassing. The stunned look on his face makes you feel self conscious, and maybe you should just walk away or leave him alone.

But he wants to show you everything.

He writes his address across your palm with a pen he’s pulled from his back pocket. He has classes during the day on Mondays and Wednesdays, but he tells you that you can come by any other time. It’s strange, you think, for him to give you his address instead of his number. It feels fast, and stupid, to meet him at his place without knowing anything but his name. (Dabi. A name that feels like it was meant to fall from your lips, and he would agree).

But he’s ripped out the page, placed it in your palms, and told you he’ll see you later, like he’s always known you. It’s not enough, to look at your face made from his hands in lines across a page. You want to feel them on you, over your skin, grabbing and taking, your want and his. With a piece of his heart in your hands, you decide that no matter how stupid, or fast, or intense it might be, you’ll go to him.

#dabi x reader #bnha x reader #LISTEN. I’m obsessed with him #he’s so weird giving u his adress instead of his number #nowhere near by yo la tengo plays in his head when he sees u it’s fine #GOD!#ghost.drabble #ghost.writes #finished this tonight am queing it for the morning idk man hiiiiii

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duskandcobalt · 3 months

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Stargirl: Part Four

Following her last vision, Elain and Azriel navigate the surprise revelation and the frenzy that comes along with it.

...

Well, well, well... my smutty little darling that was only ever supposed to be one part comes to an end. This last part was intended to be just a little dirty short thing but somehow it turned into a 6k word monster soooo???? idk i had fun writing this, I hope you have fun reading it and I'm so thrilled I could get this out just in time for the last day of @sjmromanceweek 💕💗💞

this can be read as a stand alone but if you'd like to see how elain's sexy little visions came to be, you can find the first part of stargirl here as well as all the other parts in my masterlist xx

18+ please, gratuitous smut and a little bit of breeding kink as a valentine's day treat 💌👀♥️

ENJOY XX

Read on AO3

Elain runs a trembling hand down the front of her dress as she takes a deep breath.

She’s wearing a beautiful ivory gown made of delicate lace that’s almost sheer. Only heavy clusters of floral embroidery cover her from the top of the bodice down to the middle of her thighs where it tapers off before picking up again to form a stunning train that trails dramatically behind her. The dress has long sleeves, also covered in embroidery, but her shoulders and decolletage are left bare - an intentional design choice that she and her seamstress had made with a certain someone in mind.

A veil is ever so carefully placed into the crown of Elain’s intricately woven hair by the practiced hands of the twins when a soft knock sounds from the bedroom door, interrupting the mindless chatter she’d been exchanging with Nuala and Cerridwen.

She catches sight of the male in the reflection of her mirror. His tall, lean frame occupies almost the entire doorway. He’s dressed in an immaculately tailored suit and a small dusk coloured rose is pinned to the lapel of his jacket. His violet eyes soften as they meet hers and the very corners of his lips turn up into a fond smile.

“He’s not going to know what to do with himself when he sees you.” Rhysand says quietly. “You make for a beautiful bride, Elain.”

Elain ducks her head in thanks. The warmth of a blush creeps up her neck and blooms across her cheeks as the nerves that she’s been trying to keep at bay all morning finally settle low in her stomach at her brother-in-law’s sincere compliment and at the reminder of the male waiting for her in the garden.

She couldn’t believe that this was actually happening. Couldn’t believe that she was about to walk down the aisle to her mate.

…

It had been two years since she’d had that vision that had hinted at a truth she hadn’t been prepared to receive. A vision that had shown her this day - a mating ceremony to a dark haired Shadowsinger instead of the son of Autumn as the Cauldron had once suggested.

That single vision had come out of nowhere and thrown her entire life into a spiral.

She’d never forget sitting up in his bed, turning towards him and whispering those words that had turned their entire world upside down.

You’re my mate.

Azriel had only stared at her, still as a statue, as she fumbled over her words in a desperate attempt to explain to him exactly what she’d seen.

The offering of cake. A black ribbon binding her wrist to his.

He’d broken down moments later after finally finding his voice and asking her a few carefully curated questions to understand exactly what she’d seen. He’d clutched her tight to his chest as tears trickled from his eyes and into her hair. She’d never seen him like that before but she understood immediately that the overwhelming feeling that coursed through him was relief.

Relief from the knowledge that he hadn’t been forgotten by the Mother or the Cauldron. From knowing that he hadn’t been deemed unworthy of a mate because of all the blood he’d drawn over the centuries.

They’d gone to Feyre first, clumsily explaining what Elain had seen only to realise they would also need to confess to already having been spending time together. They told Rhys next and though it was perhaps naive of them, neither she nor Azriel had expected that the High Lord would react so poorly to the news.

For all the times that Elain had wished she could be with Azriel without needing to hide from the others, opening themselves up to the wrath of Rhysand for daring to mess with intercourt politics had resulted in a world of pain. He’d torn into Azriel for even thinking of pursuing a mated female, let alone a female mated to an Autumn Court male. For daring to bed her while her mate slept in the same house.

At the time, it had seemed that no matter how many times Elain tried to make it clear that the bond in question wasn’t even a real bond - that she had pursued Azriel just as much as he’d pursued her, that they’d never risked sleeping together when Lucien was in residence - her pleas fell on deaf ears. Rhys had stormed out of his office without sparing her a glance, only giving a stern warning to Azriel to stay the hell away from her.

They hadn’t stayed away from each other, of course. They’d simply resumed what they’d already been doing - sneaking in and out of each other’s rooms in the dead of night and only barely avoiding each other during the days.

There had been countless tears and numerous arguments. An entire war had almost been waged over their claim that the Cauldron had been wrong. Iit had taken almost an entire year of working with various High Lords, priestesses, and other contacts and associates of Rhysand to confirm that something had indeed gone wrong when Elain was submerged in the Cauldron - that a spell had been cast in an attempt to hide her bond to Azriel and guide her in another direction.

It had been confusing and messy and terrible for everyone involved but they had somehow come out on the other end, still together and still hopelessly in love. Now, there was a brand new element to their relationship. A bright, glowing tether that connected their bodies, their souls - already so tangible despite the fact that neither of them had formally accepted the bond.

Azriel, usually so reserved and attention avoidant, had surprised her when he insisted on even having a ceremony. She’d had to talk him out of going down the same path as Nesta and Cassian and after going back and forth too many times to count, Elain had eventually relented and they’d compromised on having the small garden ceremony that had come to her in that vision.

The title of mates had never meant much to her. She’d have chosen him a million times over where there’d been a predetermined connection between them or not. But she knew how much it meant to Azriel, knew that he considered the bond to be a blessing unlike any other.

It was why she attempted to look past the, quite frankly, insane behavior he’d been exhibiting over the past few months. Azriel had turned into something reminiscent of the girls that Elain had grown up with. The ones that became obsessive over their nuptials the second a ring was placed on their finger.

Just because she’d given in to his desire to have a ceremony, it didn’t mean that she hadn’t enjoyed torturing him from time to time when he was difficult about place settings or flowers.

“Never should’ve told you about that stupid vision,” Elain would taunt him, if only to feel the delicious trickle of arousal slither down her spine at the way his shoulders would stiffen and the promise of punishment would spark in his eyes.

Not that he’d ever actually deliver on that promise.

It was the one true point of contention between them. The stubborn male was intent on not formally accepting the bond before the ceremony and would hardly touch her, let alone fuck her, for fear of accidentally solidifying the bond between them before they could have it blessed by a priestess. And though she tried, there was no amount of teasing and taunting she could do that would get him to break.

He even went as far as to refuse food made by her whether she handed it directly to him or not.

It was ridiculous. He was ridiculous.

Azriel had made up for some of it though, meeting her halfway by insisting on incorporating certain aspects of a human wedding - starting with a proposal that had come as a complete surprise a few weeks before they’d broken the curse.

They’d been in the garden one evening, Azriel more quiet than usual as he studied her from over the brim of a chipped tea cup that appeared like a dollhouse toy in the grasp of his large hands. She’d only looked up from her notebook when he gently lifted her feet from his lap and shifted until he was on his knees in the grass beside her.

He had said her name so softly, his eyes gleaming with an unfamiliar quality that they’d later identified as nervousness when they laughed together in bed later, recounting the moment while Elain lifted her hand above their faces until the low fae lights caught the surface of the sparkling sapphire that newly graced her ring finger.

…

That sapphire gleams brighter than ever on her finger as Rhysand steps towards her and offers her his arm.

“Ready?”

He’d come to them after they’d announced their intention to have a ceremony and asked if he could walk Elain down the aisle - a sign of peace and a way of offering them his blessing. Something that she knew meant the world to Azriel after the tense year he and Rhys had had.

“Ready.” Elain swallows, slipping her arm through the crook of his elbow.

Apart from Rhys walking her down the aisle, most of what she’d seen in that vision remains the same. A harp plays as Rhys leads her out to the garden. Bright blooms of flowers are arranged on either side of a makeshift aisle. The sun shines and the Sidra glitters behind them. Nesta and Feyre smile brightly, tears gathering in the corner of their eyes. Cassian gives her a bright smile before clasping the broad shoulder of the handsome male standing next to him.

Elain’s breath catches in her chest when Azriel turns and his eyes land on her. She tries to keep from crying but there’s little she can do to stop the tears from falling when Azriel gives her a smile unlike anything she’d ever seen before, his own eyes shining with tears and admiration for his bride.

The sight of Azriel in his leathers was something Elain often dreamed of when she lay in bed at night, but it only takes one slow pass of her eyes over his body before she realises that the only thing better than Azriel in his leathers, is Azriel in a suit.

The suit is perfectly cut to his body and is befitting of a royal prince - the sash draped across his body, the medallions pinned to his chest - she realises that in a way, he really is dressed the part of a high ranking member of the Night Court and something about seeing him proudly dressed like this for her, makes her heart swell.

It feels like an eternity before she stands in front of him, before Rhys kisses her cheek and gives Azriel a hug. Before Azriel’s wonderfully familiar hands clasp around hers.

“Beautiful.” He gives her fingers a gentle squeeze as his eyes roam over her dress - the delicate lace that frames her exposed neck and shoulders. The embroidery that conceals the part of her that only he would ever see. He doesn’t bother to conceal his satisfied hum of approval as his gaze tracks back up the length of her body to her face.

The priestess takes over then, welcoming all their guests and guiding them through a short ceremony that culminates in an exchange of vows that leaves both of them with happy smiles and tear streaked faces.

They exchange rings after their vows - an homage to Elain’s human heritage but also something she’d quietly insisted on because the possessive part of her wanted him to have a physical marker that made it clear that he was taken to any female or male that dared to set their eyes on him.

Before she knows it, Nyx is teetering over to them, a small plate that holds one cinnamon bun haphazardly cradled in his small, chubby hands.

It’s the final point of difference from her vision - a small change she’d intentionally made to incorporate Azriel’s favourite of her homemade treats into their day. A nod to the day this had all started that only the two of them would understand.

She bends down and kisses Nyx on the forehead, gingerly taking the bun in her fingers before standing and bringing it to Azriel’s lips.

“Eat.” Elain murmurs.

Azriel’s lips close around the soft bun, teeth sinking into the sweet pastry. He swallows and Elain swears she feels the bond between them intensify. Unlike the uncomfortable pull she’d felt once upon a time, this is different. This time it’s desire and admiration and pure love that she feels when it tightens around her ribs.

By the way Azriel is looking at her, she knows he feels the same.

The ribbon is the next and final part of the ceremony. Feyre and Nesta both step forward to wrap a length of black satin around the couple’s wrists - sheepish looks on both of her sister’s faces. Rhysand and Cassian take over from their mates- tightening the ribbon and tying it into a firm bow.

“Remember, Az,” Cassian's eyes shine with mischief. “This stays on until you make her come hard enough to cause an avalanche on Ramiel.”

“Cassian!” Nesta groans, pinching the bridge of her nose, at the same exact time Feyre clasps her hands tight over Nyx’s ears even as she and Rhysand fail to stifle their laugh.

…

They don’t last long after the ceremony. It’s only a couple of turns around the small dancefloor and a few congratulatory conversations before the pull between them becomes too much to bear and Azriel bends down, his lips brushing over the delicate point of her ear as he quietly asks if she’s ready to leave.

He laughs at the eagerness with which Elain responds but she can’t bring herself to be embarrassed - not when she’d felt the absence of his touch so thoroughly for over a month now.

She needed to be alone with him. Needed to get away before the desire got the best of them and put them at risk of doing something obscenely stupid like consummating their bond in the middle of this garden, in front of everyone they held close to their hearts.

After a very quick goodbye to their amused guests, Azriel whisks Elain into his arms and flies directly to the townhouse that Rhys had gifted them as a mating present, grumbling that they may as well have it seeing as they’d already spent the last year or two desecrating every part of it.

No words are exchanged as Azriel lands, still cradling Elain in his arms as he wanders up the path and opens the door, carrying her over the threshold once more.

It was funny really, when she looks back at how far they’d come since that very first time Azriel had flown her here, to this place they could now call home.

She’d been a shell of herself back then, clutching to her human life with a desperation that had almost broken her completely. Despite it all, she’d felt a split second moment of reprieve from the intensity of her grief when Azriel, little more than a stranger to her at the time, carried her over the threshold and set her down with such care before he led her out to the one place he somehow knew she might find some sense of normalcy.

She’d felt it then - upon seeing the kindness in his eyes and feeling the gentleness of his touch - the tiniest inkling of hope that maybe one day she could find happiness in this new place, in this new life.

Sure enough, that little drop of hope had been warranted because just a few years later, Elain is the happiest she’s ever been.

The signs had all been there from the start.

That single strand of hair that had snagged right over his heart should’ve told her all she needed to know.

He carries her upstairs, toeing open the door to the bedroom that once belonged solely to her and Elain’s jaw drops as Azriel finally sets her down and she peels her eyes away from his perfect face to take in the room.

She knew that Feyre and Mor had come by earlier to decorate but she didn’t expect all of this. Her usual lilac linens have been replaced by billowing white sheets. There’s blush coloured rose petals strewn across the bed that match the roses that had framed the aisle and candles were scattered around the room, casting the bed in romantic, flickering golden light.

Azriel’s free arm winds around her waist from behind and his lips follow the path of her shoulder up her neck as he pulls her back towards him. Elain tilts her head up to meet him halfway and his mouth travels along her jaw until his lips hover centimeters from hers.

She feels like every bit of her skin is on fire. She could never imagine that the level of her desire for Azriel would surpass what she felt for him in the past but she was sorely mistaken because what she feels in this moment makes her think that if he didn’t do something to quell the ache thrumming between her legs, she might just die.

“Azriel.” She breathes his name, turning towards him fully and breaking the silence that had settled comfortably between them.

“Elain.” He answers. His fingers press into the plush flesh of her hip, the very tips of them venturing low - teasing at the curve of her backside.

“My mate.” Elain says quietly, raising her hand to cup his face. Her thumb drags along his sharp cheekbone.

“My mate.” He repeats. The word is almost unfamiliar on his lips, like he still can’t quite believe the term is his to use. Azriel brings his lips to hers and her entire body is overcome with a desperate need. “My wife.”

Elain can’t help but whimper as her body curves into his by its own volition. She melts into his searing kiss.

“My husband.”

Azriel lets out a soft moan at that and a slight shift of his stance allows her to feel him hard against her hip.

Elain is suddenly nervous as she pulls away to look up at Azriel. She doesn’t understand why she’s suddenly shy, standing in front of him like an innocent, blushing bride even though they both knew that ship had sailed long ago. He stares back at her, candle light catching the flecks of green in his eyes.

She recognises the wonder there as he takes in the sight of her. It’s a perfect mirror to her own emotions. To the disbelief that they’d actually made it to this moment against all odds.

“Not sure how we’re supposed to consummate anything with our wrists bound together.” Elain frowns, her voice shaking slightly. “I won’t be able to get you out of this suit.”

“I think it’s more of a symbolic thing.” Azriel smiles, kissing her once more to ease her nerves. His fingers slip from her waist to their wrists, deftly plucking at the knot of black satin until it comes loose and their hands are freed. He sets the ribbon down and fixes her with a look that sends a shiver down her spine.

He motions for her to turn and then his hands are in her hair, gently removing pins until her hair falls in a gentle, albeit slightly messy, golden wave down her back. He gathers it to the side and more kisses are placed to the sensitive place where her neck meets her shoulder.

Azriel’s fingers find the buttons that run down the back of her dress and he begins to undo them slowly. Elain knows that he’s doing it on purpose. That even on this special day, he wouldn’t dream of missing the opportunity to have her beg.

But Elain, for once, won’t let him win. She somehow finds the will power to hold still as he undoes her dress and drags it down her arms and over her torso until it falls to the floor and she’s left standing in front of him in nothing except for the very expensive scrap of ivory lace that covers her sex and the shiny rings on her finger.

She reaches for his suit jacket and helps him maneuver out of it and then she steps around to his back to undo the buttons of his shirt around his wings. And maybe, just maybe, during the process of ridding him of his shirt, she lets her knuckles smooth over a part of the delicate membrane that has him gritting out her name in warning.

Elain grins, moving back around to his front to reach for the buttons of his fine pants - slowly undoing them as he kicks off his shoes just in time for her to slide his trousers and undershorts down his legs.

She can’t help the way her eyes linger on the proud length of him. On the small bead of moisture gathered at the tip that gleams in the glow of the candles, practically calling for her to put her lips on him. She’s so distracted that she barely even registers Azriel reaching back for the ribbon he’d placed on the desk a few minutes ago.

“I can think of better uses for this ribbon.” Azriel’s eyes flick up to meet hers as he smooths out the ribbon and dangles it from his fingertips.

“I can think of something even better.” Elain plucks the ribbon from his hands and backs him towards the bed with a single finger against his chest until he’s laying down. His eyes shimmer with amusement as she motions for him to put his hands above his head but he silently follows her instructions.

She kneels next to him, leans down and tries so very hard to ignore the sweet press of his lips to her sternum as her fingers make quick work of wrapping the ribbon around both of his wrists before securing the remaining length to the wooden posts of her headboard.

“You have the rest of our lives to touch me whenever and however you’d like. Let’s see how long you can last before you’re begging to touch your wife.”

She moves to settle herself on his lap but he stops her with a slight shift of his knees that sends her sliding further up his torso.

“On my tongue first.”

Elain bites down on her lower lip, her core already tightening in anticipation as she shifts further up and carefully places a knee above each of his shoulders, mindful of his wings.

“Look at you.” Azriel’s eyes are fixed on the damp lace covering her center. On the gleam of arousal that covers her inner thighs. “Such a mess already and I haven’t even begun.”

“So much talking.” Elain grumbles, her face flooding with heat at just how wet she was for him when all he’d done was take her dress off.

“Make me stop.” Azriel challenges. She huffs but slowly lowers her hips until the defined tip of his nose brushes over her, dragging her soaked underwear over her clit in a delicious slide of friction.

It’s far from the first time he’s had her like this but it is the first time he hasn’t been able to use his hands. It’s in this moment that Elain realises just how much she relies on him to guide her down to his face. To pull her hips closer and closer, to help her rock against him as she rides him. With his hands restrained, it all falls back on her to gain the confidence to use him like this.

“Sit.” The single word is laced with pure demand and she can sense that Azriel’s patience is slipping. His need to get his mouth on her overruling any of the previous gentleness he’d shown her this evening.

She does as she’s told and her hands fly out to grasp for purchase on her headboard at the first pass of Azriel’s mouth over the lace that covers her. He doesn’t give her a moment to catch her breath before he uses his teeth to tug the lace to the side as best as he can and then his tongue is on her, eagerly tasting her, consuming her with long, effortless strokes.

“I’ve missed this.” He groans against her skin. His tongue dips inside her. “ I’ve missed you.”

She doesn’t have the words to admonish him. To tell him that he could’ve had her this whole time if only he hadn’t been so stubborn. But a month without having him like this has taken its toll and Elain finds that she’s utterly incapable of forming any words or sounds that aren’t a simple keening moan as she rolls her hips and chases the sensation quickly building low and intense in her stomach. Her thighs tremble, her fingers clench around the wooden posts of her bedframe and before she knows it, the wave of pleasure crests and she slumps forward - the already precarious rhythm of her hips falters as she comes hard and fast on his tongue.

Azriel’s mouth doesn’t stop working her until she pulls off of him completely but even then, she isn’t granted a single moment of reprieve besides a couple seconds to catch her breath.

He calls in his shadows and icy, invisible hands are firm around her waist, guiding her back down to where she’d started. Her hands find his cock as his shadows stay with her, slipping in between her legs and over her breasts in feather light caresses that have her aching for more despite just having come mere seconds ago.

Elain raises her eyes to look up at Azriel as she lowers her mouth to his cock. At the first slide of her tongue over his head, a particularly daring shadow slips inside her. The feeling of it is one she knows well, so similar to Azriel’s own fingers.

Elain pulls off of him for a second, glaring up at him. The menacing look she’d been going for is cut short when she gasps as the shadow still inside her presses hard against her upper wall.

“You said,” Azriel starts, eyes squeezing shut when she takes him in her mouth again. “You said I couldn’t touch you. You never said my shadows couldn’t.”

“Not fair.” Elain mumbles around the length of him, unwilling to stop the movement of her lips and tongue. She only takes him deeper, relishing in the way his hips lift to push himself further down her throat.

“Did you think I’d forgotten?” More of his shadows are in her hair now, tugging at her roots with delicious pressure. “All those times you’ve taunted me this past month? Did you think I would forget?”

She gives him a subtle shake of her head, hollowing her cheeks around him all the while.

She’d been praying that he wouldn’t forget, that he’d catalogue all those moments until he could finally deliver on that promise of punishment she’d seen gleaming in his eyes each time she’d deliberately taunt him with her words or actions.

“Touch me.” She doesn’t know how the tables have turned so quickly. How in a split second, she’s pulled off of him and has relinquished all control to him - begging him to touch her instead of the other way around as she’d initially planned. “Azriel, please.”

His shadows aren’t enough and too much time has passed. They’ve put it off too long and the thread between them has grown too taut. She wants his hands. His fingers. She wants him inside her.

Elain blinks and Azriel’s hands are free. She blinks again and she’s on her back in the exact spot he had just been. His hazel eyes burn into hers as his hands - those glorious, beautiful scarred hands - smooth over every inch of her body that’s within their reach.

“Please.” She begs again, unsure as to what she’s even asking for. All she knows is that there’s greater forces at play and her wants and desires are careening dangerously out of control.

“Okay.” Azriel nods and suddenly it’s clear as day to her that he’s experiencing the exact same thing on the other side of the bond glowing between them. There’s a new sense of urgency to his words. To his actions. His calloused thumbs drag over her nipples. “Okay, my love.”

He moves a hand inbetween her legs and pushes her thighs further apart and then she feels him, hot and heavy against her sex. He drags his cock over her twice, coating himself in the arousal he’s pulled from her. A moment later he’s inside her and Elains swears it’s the best thing she’s ever felt in her entire life.

“It feels…” She can’t finish her sentence. She’s too overcome by a wave of emotions so intense that it wracks through her body. That thread between them that had seemed so tangible for the past month had suddenly solidified into something else entirely. She could feel it in her blood. In each and every nerve. Could feel him. Each of her emotions - all the joy and the pleasure and the relief - it was all amplified. Doubled. Because she could feel his twin emotions on the other side of this new connection.

It had snapped. The bond had finally snapped into place once and for all.

Elain laughs, high and bright, and full of disbelief because each time she had thought that what she felt for him couldn’t possibly be topped, she had been proven wrong.

“I know.” Azriel sweeps back the hair clinging to her sweat slick forehead and keeps his eyes on hers.

“It just…” Elain gasps, fingernails clawing at his back in a desperate attempt to get even closer to him. To feel even more of him.

“I know.” Azriel repeats, lowering his mouth to hers in an all consuming kiss that renders her utterly useless. “I felt it, too.”

Azriel continues to whisper sweet nothings into her skin as he takes her, his hips meeting hers as he delivers long smooth strokes that have her crying his name.

“Want you to come with me, okay?” He says gently, waiting until her eyes focus on his and she nods that she had in fact heard him before he bends one of her knees to her chest and picks up his pace.

The new position has tears forming in the corner of her eyes from the sheer bliss that courses through her. It’s a feeling that’s only heightened when he brings a hand in between their bodies to thumb at her clit.

“I meant every word.” Azriel murmurs, his forehead pressed tight to hers. “You’re my sun, Elain.”

The smooth movement of his hips stutters and she knows he’s close.

I spent the first part of my life shrouded in darkness with only shadows for company. I thought I’d learnt what it was to live in the light of day again but I didn’t truly know what it meant to feel the warmth of the sun until you looked at me for the first time.

The beautiful words Azriel had said to her earlier in the garden echo in her head and she can’t stop the sob that escapes her at the reminder of the vows they’d made. At the promises they’d sworn - the declarations to love and to cherish each other for the rest of their long, immortal lives.

“I love you.” Her hands land on either side of his face and she holds him to her, kissing him deeply as he spills inside her. Her muscles contract around him, an endless pulsing sensation that makes her ears ring and her eyes go blurry.

He says it back to her - three words chanted over and over again in combination with her name as he fills her.

Her blood pounds through her veins and her heart feels like it’s going to explode out of her chest. No amount of reading and research into mating bonds would have prepared her for the magnanimity of what she felt in this moment.

It isn’t until Azriel pulls out of her and kneels in between her legs that her eyes focus and she regains any sense of who or where she is. He gently pries her legs further apart and his eyes darken at the sight in front of him. She watches as he takes two of his fingers and collects the come smeared on her thighs. It coats his fingers and the sight of a small bit of it sliding off the knuckle of his middle finger and landing over the gold band on his ring finger is so beautifully filthy that it has her holding back a moan.

“Back where it belongs.” Azriel says the words with a satisfied, purely male smirk and Elain’s breath hitches as he slides his fingers back in her, fucking his spend back inside her. She shivers at the sensation of cold metal grazing her skin.

“Sometimes when I see you like this - your pretty cunt so wet and swollen, so full of my come that it drips out…” He pauses for a second, eyes fixated on the easy slip of his fingers in and out of her. “I wonder why I still take the tonic every morning.”

Elain summons the energy to prop herself up on her elbows so she can look at him. She’s shocked at his admission, at all that it entails.

“If you want me to call you daddy, Azriel, all you had to do was ask.”

It’s a weak attempt at humour, a pathetic attempt to buy her some time as she tries to figure out what to say.

Azriel’s head tips back and he laughs in that way that makes her heart ache with love for him.

“I’m serious, Elain.” He gives her a soft smile, his fingers still moving within her. “If you want that with me, I… I’d be honoured.”

“I need,” she gasps when his fingers curl inside her, pressing against the spot he knows will get her where he wants her to be. “To think.”

“Okay.” He agrees. “Whenever you’re ready. If you’re ever ready.”

“After this…” Elain’s back arches off the bed and her legs threaten to close but Azriel holds her open for him with his other hand.

“After the frenzy.” He completes her thought for her and watches, completely enamored as her head tilts back and her slender fingers frantically clutch at the sweat soaked sheets.

“With a clear head.” She barely manages to get out the words. “We’ll talk about it.”

She’d need a clear head to discuss that particular subject because right now, with how unbelievably aroused she was at the idea of his fingers pushing his come back inside her - back where it belongs - she’d do just about anything he asked of her.

Azriel only leans forward, crowding her body with his as he once again sends her falling over the edge. Her moans are swallowed eagerly by his mouth.

“Always take me so well.” He praises her. “So beautiful each and every time you come for me.”

When she finally settles, utterly spent against the mattress, Azriel moves to pull back but Elain clambers to keep him with her and she finds herself startled by her own automatic reaction to him moving even a fraction of an inch away. She buries her face in his neck, drawing in the scent of him - that cedar scent that is now completely intertwined with notes of jasmine and honey- and the depth of her desire terrifies her.

Elain can’t fathom that there will be a time where she won’t need to feel the weight of him on top of her. Couldn’t imagine that there’d be a second of the foreseeable future in which she wouldn’t need to feel the warmth of his skin under the tips of her fingers. The possessive quality that already lived deep within her bones had grown into a whole new monster because even though she’s been told over and over again that it’s the males who get territorial once a mating bond has been accepted, the way in which she needs to have Azriel all to herself makes her feel confident that she could rip someone to shreds if they looked at him for even a second too long.

“I never want to leave this bed.” Elain sighs, fingers slipping down the expanse of his back as she arches upward, her breasts pressing against his chest. She’s delighted when the shift of her body allows her to feel him hard against her stomach again because despite her sore muscles and the tiredness seeping into her bones, she’s somehow immediately ready for him. Desperate to have him inside her once more.

“Too bad.” Azriel’s lips skate up the column of her throat until his lips are right over her ear. “Because I intend to fuck you on every single surface in this house.”

He sinks into her again and Elain is convinced once and for all that this frenzy might never end.

#elriel #elriel fic #sjmromanceweek2024 #elain x azriel #elain archeron #azriel #so very nervous for this to go out bc i've been putting off finishing this for far far far too long #my writing #acotar fanfiction

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linddzz · 3 months

Text

Here an assortment of Facts About Morpheus in the Red Flags AU. Where I'm starting to lean more towards the version where they meet and are already into each other before the ""Fake Date"" Incident:

-Jessamy is the raven he took care of when he found her injured outside of his townhome. He now has a room with a window he often keeps open for her to fly into whenever she feels like it. I don't know how legal any of this is in London but tbh it doesn't matter because he also does not know what the laws are and doesn't care.

- His townhome is very dark maximalist in decor, which tends to surprise people at first. There are houseplants and little statues all over, and the walls are hidden behind millions of bookshelves. There is an art studio room and books scattered everywhere. Very recently, hypothetical visitors would notice a lot of child locks and child proofed areas that have a bit of a panicked "I bought every safety thing in the store bc I have no idea wtf I'm doing" energy to them.

- He has a therapist. Yes, the Morpheus that Hob meets is the upgraded version who is actually working on himself already. This is what the improved personal growth version of Morpheus is like.

Anyway, said therapist is Gilbert F. Greene. Because Morpheus going head to head with an unstoppable force of old timey adorable optimism who will also not take his shit is delightful. Dr. Greene insists on going by first names and Morpheus always makes "Gilbert" sound like a slur in retaliation. Some conversations I imagine include:

"Good morning Gilbert, you will never guess who had what you might call a """relapse into self destructive behaviors"""" last night."

"I am very sorry to hear that my dear boy. Let me say though, that I am so very proud of you for calling me! That is a phenomenal step for you and it's wonderful that you are being proactive in your recovery."

"Don't patronize me Gilbert. I will hang up."

(this ended up being super long so I'm just gonna spare y'all's dash. Warning for some lightly touched on mentions of drug use and self destructive behavior.)

- Him getting a therapist was part of the requirements for gaining visitation rights and then weekend custody once a month with Orpheus. The therapy is actually helping, and he's bitter about that.

- His given name is actually Dream, he goes by his middle name. All the Endless siblings have awful names. Desire goes by Adonai because who calls a fucking child Desire???

When Hob meets the rest of the family, Destiny goes "it's good to see you again, Dream" and Hob begins turning to Morpheus like "lmao who tf is named Dream" only to find Morpheus glaring daggers at his brother.

- The Endless parents are rarely around. Some of the siblings still live in the manor and they all use it for family dinners, but it's common for their parents to be off travelling for years at a time.

- Morpheus is an author and a painter who has a bajillion pen names to go with each genre he writes in, so it's hard to figure out exactly how much he's written. Even before becoming a father though, his face and full name is mostly associated with children's fantasy stories that he illustrates himself, and his Art vs Artist vibe is very Miyazaki.

Him and Calliope collaborated on a series of illustrated poetic translations of ancient epics. Their divorce was exactly as messy as one might imagine the divorce between two passionate artist types might be.

- His downward spiral of self destruction started before the divorce but oh boy did it nosedive during and after.

- When she got pregnant after divorce proceedings had started, there was a moment where they were both meeting with lawyers and one asked something along the lines of if this meant they would try for reconciliation and staying together. Calliope said "no" immediately.

It's not like Morpheus exactly thought they would get back together, but the speed and firmness of that hard "no" had his head screaming with white noise and some badly thought out self medication for months, which ended up being why Calliope got full custody and he is just now able to get more involved with the now two year old Orpheus.

- His rebound with Thessaly was also messy. She was just in it for a fun fling and he was... Morpheus. He found out he got dumped when she informed him she was already in the process of moving back to Greece, and Johanna said he needed to be banned from any more beautiful Greek expats from that day forth.

- No one can figure out what the deal is with him and Lucienne. The simple explanation is they're queerplatonic soul mates. Lucienne's wife Gault thinks they're a bit codependent (not an inaccurate assessment), but is more civil with him since the day she yelled at him to go get an actual therapist instead of constantly putting his shit on Lucienne, and he actually did. (It is unclear if this or Calliope demanding therapy for him to get visitation with Orpheus was his wake up call catalyst, but probably a bit of both.)

- Lucienne was originally a personal assistant. She now works as his editor since she seems to be the only person who can keep track of all the shit he's written. She is also the only person who can get away with critiquing his works in progress without sending him into a fit where he might burn all his manuscripts.

- When Morpheus started mentioning this Gadling guy a lot, Lucienne paid a visit to the pub. Not to do anything so crude as to threaten a man's life if he breaks her sensitive friend's heart. What could she do anyway? No no. She's just here to smile with zero trace of humor and ask some questions while looking him up and down through her spectacles. Hob will later describe this as one of the most pants shitting moments of his life, and he felt like he got transformed back into a primary school kid who talked slightly too loudly in the library.

- Morpheus went through a slutty phase during and shortly after University that was less of a healthy and fun exploration of his sexuality and libido, and a bit more "I will take anyone who will have me in any way they will want me and I know that if nothing else, I'm pretty."

- Him and Johanna used to have a game seeing who could get more free drinks in one night. This had to be put to an end when it turned into the catalyst for at least three screaming fights between them.

Fight subjects were

Quality vs Quantity. Morpheus insists his ability to get people to buy him a single glass of wine that costs £50 beats Johanna's cheap beers. Johanna disagreed. loudly.

Is it cheating when Morpheus ran to the bathroom to smudge on some eyeliner and then stole Johanna's lip gloss? Is it further cheating when Johanna realized that his main method of getting drinks was "act like Adonai"? Accusations that he would ever act like his horrid annoying younger sibling sent Morpheus into an absolute tantrum.

Competitiveness DID overcome sibling rivalry enough for Morpheus to go to Adonai for makeover assistance. This backfired because it made Morpheus hot to the point of intimidating, and Johanna won that night.

- After Hob starts flirting with him, Morpheus goes suspiciously into a Romantic, Pre-Raphaelite inspired art era featuring lots of noble knights with dark sunlit hair. A lot of them seem to be lured in by dark haired fae entities all La Belle Sans Merci style. It's disgustingly obvious.

-Therapy has made him juuuuust self aware enough to know that he MAYBE tends to go a bit hard and fast with romance. This makes him a little more cautious with Hob than he usually would be, and he's doing a bit of "Hob is so nice and sweet and interested but I'm gonna mess it up :(((" pining. Everyone around him is fucking sick of it. He is not self aware enough to realize he's still going super hard and fast, but this time he's doing it while sighing sadly and drawing Hob in his sketchbook all the fucking time.

#red flags au #human au #Dreamling #gonna make my pinned masterpost to organize shit later today djdjdksk

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64yrsold · 6 months

Text

“Do you like it?” I smirked, fingers finding the hem of my dress. I twisted the silky fabric until it wrinkled, watching his eyes roll over me.

“What do you think?” He grinned, dragging a thumb over his bottom lip. I blushed, waiting for his greedy eyes to meet mine. They stayed downcast, travelling along the edge of my thigh.

I fixed the thin strap over my shoulder, “Is it too much?”

“What’s too much?” His brows pulled together, a thoughtful crease adorning his forehead.

I sighed, gesturing vaguely.

He shook his head, confused.

“Like,” I groaned, covering my cleavage with my palm. He smirked, shadowing my hand with his. His touch felt new, his warmth brighter, the smell of smoke on his fingertips louder.

“Should I tell you to change?” He kissed my cheek, stilling my breath. “Is that what you want, baby?”

I just laughed quietly, feeling my heart throw itself against my ribs.

“You look pretty,” he murmured, finding a novel spot below my ear to kiss, “You look hot, very hot.” His voice was sultry smoke on my skin. Breathing it in made me feel numb, drunk and euphoric.

“Mhm,” I whispered, the sound catching in my throat and slipping into a moan.

“Should we stay home?” He smiled, letting his hand drag to the small of my back. He followed my spine, pressing my body to his. “I’d rather stay home.”

“I wanted to make you wait,” I settled my hands on his chest, pulling off his tie, “Watch you squirm through dinner.”

He gasped, “You’d do that to me?” He hummed, nosing my jawbone. He tutted against my neck.

“Maybe,” I squeaked, my confidence evaporating against his lips.

“You wouldn’t,” he murmured, biting sweetly at my jaw. “You’re less patient than me, darling.”

“That’s—“ I sighed as he pressed his lips to my neck, struggling to swallow with my heart in my throat. “That’s a lie.”

“Really?” He pulled away, grinning down at me. My heart ached at the curls collapsing down his forehead, which now brushed against his eyebrows. Maybe half an inch longer since the last time I’d seen him.

“I’m an expert at waiting,” I mumbled, feeling a bit too earnest. He picked up on the thickness of my voice, splaying his hand against the middle of my back and hooking his chin over my shoulder. He held me tightly, and I swayed with each wash of his breath. “I’m alright.”

“Sure,” he whispered, fingertips tracing the outlines of my shoulder blades.

“I just missed you,” I said, voice muffled with my face buried against his chest. “And I don’t want to go out.”

“Perfect,” he laughed, squeezing his arms around me before pulling back. “Because I have a surprise for you.”

“Do you?” I smiled, watching his eyes come alight at my excitement. He nodded, pursing his lips to hide a grin. I imagined I could wait a thousand winters to see the sun against that smile.

“Close your eyes,” he instructed, and threw me over his shoulder, his hand gripping my thigh. I shrieked as he carried me to the bedroom, keeping my eyes squeezed shut. “I’m putting you down, darling, don’t fall.”

My feet hit the hardwood floor, and I giggled stupidly as he steadied me.

“One second,” he shouted as I listened to his frantic footsteps. I was tempted to peek as I heard the sound of his lighter, but stayed still, my arms crossed in front of me. “Okay, open them.”

I opened my eyes to find our bedroom aglow, candles lining the room. I blinked, finding him outstretched on the bed, surrounded by rose petals. I covered my face with my hands, shaking as I muffled my laughter.

“You don’t like it?” He laughed, both of us spiralling into fits, spurred on by the other’s giggles.

“I love it, love it,” I gasped between laughs, “So, so, sexy.”

He hopped off the bed, wrapping his arms around my waist, “Just trying to remind you of all the good times we’ve had in here.”

“Oh, I didn’t forget,” I grinned, smothering my smile with my palm.

“Come on, baby. Take that dress off.”

“All it takes is a couple rose petals, you think?” I tilted my head to the side, watching him nod enthusiastically. He caught my wrist, sitting on the edge of the bed. He pulled me onto his lap, letting me push him flat against the sheets.

“Rose petals and me,” he tugged on the strap of my dress, “The thought of me inside you.”

Heat crawled up my neck, “Bold of you.”

“I just wanted to see you blush,” his face softened, “Beautiful, every inch of you. Let me see you, please.”

I rolled my eyes, blowing out the candles beside the bed. I reached for the zipper of my dress as he frowned.

“Not fair, baby. It’s too dark now,” he pouted, grabbing my hips.

“Too bad,” I shrugged, and unzipped the dress, pulling it over my head, “Should I put it back on?”

He grinned, flipping us over. His hand pressed into the mattress beside my head, and I dotted his wrist with kisses.

“No, thank you,” he whispered, pressing our lips together and finally bringing me home.

#yes i’m doing fine regarding yesterday’s setlist thank you #matty healy #the 1975 #the 1975 fanfic #matty healy fanfiction #matty the 1975 #matty x reader #matty healy x reader #64matty #matty healy oneshot

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bones4thecats · 5 months

Note

I please ask for an alternate scenario to Poseidon Thor and Beelzebub and Loki but how would they react to their Maids just leaving kianna on the ground bleeding from blood loss unaware of her being the gods lover and thinking she was an intruder and just waiting for her to die just for the god to come back after a long day of trying to look for her just to find her

Body barely clinging to life due to the injuries and blood loss and the floor being practically covered in her blood

And finding out the maids did

A/N: Part 1 is down below this. This was a very neat request, and I hope it was alright, since my ideas kinda flatlined in the middle of writing! Now, enjoy~~

Part 1

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

🔱 He had sent to many people out to look for you, even fellow Gods joined the search, he even joined whenever he was free too

🔱 He pushed work behind everything just so he could go looking for you

🔱 When he had arrived home, he expected to come back to the average empty halls, the only actions coming between the silence and water sloshing outside being the workers doing their jobs

🔱 But when he saw your familiar form laying on the ground, blood surrounding you, he froze and summoned his trident

🔱 He ran up to you, picked you up and moved like the lightning that Zeus had to the infirmary for you to get healed

🔱 Once he found out that the maids had just decided to leave you because they thought you were in intruder, he got madder than ever

🔱 Poseidon and demanded them to go to the dungeon he had in the castle to await a proper trial for their lives

🔱 But, in the meanwhile, he would focus on your health, making sure you were fully alright before making sure those, leeches, were properly punished

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

🌩️ Thor knew how to keep his personal life away from the public, as his dead-pan appearance would through people way off

🌩️ So he wasn’t surprised that they didn’t know, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t mad, he still was

🌩️ He had found you bleeding on the ground in your bedroom, and needless to say, he leaped into action

🌩️ His arms wrapped around you as he took you to the infirmary

🌩️ When he had heard from one of the guards that the maids were whispering about finding a possible intruder and leaving them to die, he launched himself at them

🌩️ Nobody could withstand his might, especially when mad

🌩️ So, when they were found outside dead the next day, everybody knew, and everybody turned a blind eye

🌩️ Thor looked over you constantly, from the start till the time you woke up

🌩️ While he was still mad about you leaving without telling him why, he could put it past him for now

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

🪰 He knew you left, but he wasn’t sure when you’d return, so he was sent into a spiral of hell

🪰 Beelzebub’s alert went off when he felt movement, excessive movement through the lab’s halls, so he looked up from his depressed state and his eyes widened

🪰 Your small frame was laying on the ground bleeding excessively, and he got up and started to run after you

🪰 He watched as the maids whispered about you being an intruder and them leaving you to die

🪰 They were gonna pay for that later, but for now, you were his main focus

🪰 Beelzebub picked you up and took you to his lab to heal you up, he was quite talented in healing and creating

🪰 But unlike with the experiments in those scenarios, he touched you with the urge to help you, not tear you apart or cause you pain

🪰 Once you were fully healed, you smiled up at him and thanked him while he made sure your relationship would be well-known, so this wouldn’t happen again

🪰 Now, where the f-?!

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

🐍 Loki was not happy that you left, I mean, you may not return! Who knows what he’ll do without you?!

🐍 The newest maids of the main Norse Pantheon family had looked at you, believed you were a invader and told the rest of the maids, ones that had been there far longer

🐍 They recognized you as Loki’s S/O, and they helped get you to the infirmary

🐍 When he heard from one of Odin’s birds that you were found and taken into recovery due to your wounds, he sprinted as a cheetah to your room

🐍 Thor and Odin had to hold him back so he wouldn’t re-open your surgery wounds, and he was super close to turning into a large dog to cuddle with you

🐍 Thankfully, he noticed how truthful his uncle and cousin looked and he calmed down

🐍 When you woke, he immediately started asking where the hell you were, while cuddling, of course!

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sorrowsofsilence · 2 months

Text

Burning Out • VII

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x Fem!Reader

I was lost, but now I'm found Under the lights and in the sounds So let us sing and sing it loud That we're not perfect, but we're proud of who we are.

Noah Sebastian is lost. His crime-filled lifestyle is anything but perfect; but everything changes once he meets you.

Words: 4.6k

Warnings: 18+, explicit language, violence, guns, car crash

Authors note: Chapter Seven - Redwine: eeeeeee, sorry this one isn't as long as most of them! It's very action packed and I felt like it was already a lot to digest tbh lol. I do hope you enjoy tho! Song is Redwine by unprocesses (10/10 recommend listening, especially at the end hehe) (I stayed up till 2am writing this which is very bad because I really should sleep but yolo!)

THIS IS A FANFICTION USING REAL PEOPLE IN A FICTIONAL SITUATION! I AM NOT IMPLYING THESE PEOPLE WOULD DO THE THINGS IN THE STORY OR ACT THE WAY THEY DO IN THE STORY IN REAL LIFE! IT IS FICTION! IT IS JUST FOR FUN! <3

Tags: @crimson-calligraphyx @lma1986 @spicywhenspeaking @sammyjoeee @shilohrosechicken @princessmarshmallowx @laurpartyprogram @cookiesupplier @nojoyontheburn @lacktoesandtoddlerant @veronicaphoenix @er3nslovergirl @cncohshit @thescarlettvvitch @scrumptiousfestivalpost @melcchs @flowery-mess @mentallynot-here @judging-from-afar @darkmxgician @badomensls

Noah jumped on the floor as his hair whipped around, feeling the intro and the crowd cheered, before he gripped the mic stand, preparing to sing.

“Mine immaculate dream Made breath and skin, I've been waiting for you Signed, with a home tattoo Happy birthday to you was created for you.”

I bobbed my head, proud as guests began singing along. It wasn’t until Noah’s voice became deeper and raspier with the chorus that I smiled wider, heart hammering as he sang, watching me periodically from the stand.

“Who do you need? Who do you love When you come undone? Who do you need? Who do you love When you come undone?”

The evening went on as the boys covered various songs, before getting ready to perform their last song for the night.

“Thank you guys so much for jamming along!” Noah yelled before sipping his water bottle, “It’s about to get heavy, so I want to see you mother fuckers headbang!”

The crowd cheered as Noah introduced Glass Houses, and the song began.

I banged my head with the music as their hair flew in spirals, pulling out my phone to record them.

As I opened my phone I saw a text message from an unknown number. Clicking on it my stomach immediately dropped as my limbs warmed with complete terror.

Los Angeles, hey? It’s about time we booked a vacation anyway. See you soon, my volto x

+++++

U̧̢̼̹͓͇̮͈͕̰͑͗ͭ̂̐̓̾̇̑̀̑̌̅̈͟͢͞Ń̷̙͎͍̘͈̰̫̫̭̼͇̻̱͈̝̇͐̌ͧͥ̅͑̏̈̐̉ͫ͝͡͠K̷̴̷̸͇̤̝̥͓̤̖̣̇̏ͭ̇̇̍ͨ͞_̸̸̨̡͎̭̄NͨO̅͆WͨŅ̷̢̮̣̰͚̝̮ͫ̑̾ͤ͌̉̀ͧͪͅͅ

The square room was grim and damp, the cracked cement floor and torn wooden walls uninviting.

It was a place rarely used, but necessary in times such as these. It had been almost a year since it held a visitor, but the chair chained to the ground in the middle of the room remained untouched, ready for its guest.

I nodded at the men who trailed behind me, dropping the duffle bag of items to the ground.

Stale air hung heavily and I smiled, the waves from the water outside echoing along the corridor.

The perfect place to keep a body.

+̴̡̧̹̿̊̇̀̾̽̉̈́̾̓̚͘+̶̧̻̰̣̳͉̈́̐͛̏̐͆+̷̝̻̗͖̞̗̟̬̉͆́̓͒̀̐̽̐̚͘͝+̸̨̡̡͓͚̱̲̻͚̭̙̩̤̐ͅ+̷̨͈̗̾͒̑͝

NOAH

After our performance finished the five of us left, packing ourselves and the equipment into the van.

Jolly, Ruffilo and Folio were extremely giddy, excitement radiating off of them. At first, I felt this way too, the adrenaline rushing through me from how well it went, and how receptive our audience was. We even had a few people take photos with us, something that surprised me.

But these feelings were short-lived once I noticed Y/N’s behaviour: anxious and detached.

Y/N barely looked at any of us after the show, and she silently waited in the car, eyes glued to her phone.

I waited to ask until we were on the road towards home, her body placed between me and Ruffilo in the middle row of the van. Nicholas noticed her off demeanour as well, his eyes flicking between me and her, nodding his head towards her as he silently cued me to ask what was wrong.

My eyes furrowed at him as I shook my head back, nodding at him to ask her. They’ve gotten close, he might as well do it.

Nicholas rolled his eyes as he shrugged his shoulders, nodding at me once more.

“What are you two doing?” Y/N sighed quietly, looking up from her phone and turning her head between the two of us.

“Uh,” I laughed awkwardly, scratching the back of my head, “well we are both a little worried about you,” I admitted.

Y/N stared at me intensely, chewing on her lip in contemplation. Her face scrunched as conflict arose on her features before she handed me her phone. The screen was bright against the midnight darkness that cascaded around the vehicle. I looked down at the message displayed on the screen, my chest pounding as I read the words.

“Do you know who sent this?” I asked as my eyes widened in worry.

“Sent what?” Nicholas leaned over Y/N, attempting to read the screen. I don’t know if Y/N told the boys what she told me; so I closed the phone, handing it back to her.

She opened the phone again before passing it to Nicholas, and his own face contorted before staring at Y/N, “Volto?”

Y/N sighed again, knowing she would have to repeat everything she told me earlier, “I have a lot to explain to you guys… but for now, I’m not sure who sent the message.”

“Well it has to be someone who knows about the mask,” I suggested before turning my attention to Jolly who groaned in annoyance, staring out the rearview mirror while he clutched the steering wheel.

“God damn asshole, riding my ass.”

Folio looked out the side mirror, matching Jolly’s tone, “What a dick.”

I ignored them, eyeing Y/N, “Do you think it’s one of the Fidelio guys?”

“One of the twins, probably,” She watched back carefully, her eyes becoming distant as she became quiet, “And if it is, I’m fucked.”

I shook my head, my hand trailing down to hold onto her thigh gently, “I will let nothing happen to you.” I squeezed my fingers reassuringly, “I’ll keep you safe.”

She gave me a warm smile as her arm began to shake from the anxiety.

“Can this guy seriously fuck off?” Jolly now growled angrily through gritted teeth, tapping the brakes firmly as a warning which sent our bodies forward from the momentum.

“Dude don’t break-check them,” Nick warned from the passenger seat, holding onto the dashboard, “They’ll hit the gear in the trunk if they smash into us.”

Y/N and Nicholas turned to look out the back window, glaring at the car that rode almost against our bumper. I peeked from the side mirror, watching the headlight’s blind reflection shine against us.

Jolly revved the engine, accelerating against the gas pedal to speed up in an attempt to get away. The car behind followed suit, pulling up to us once again.

I scoffed, leaning forward to look at the speedometer, “Jesus Christ. You’re going the speed limit, right?”

“Of course I am Idiot. I don’t know what this fucker’s problem is,” Jolly’s grip tightened on the wheel as he kept looking back.

“Just make a right,” Nicholas stated as he continued watching behind, “let them pass us; I don’t want anyone getting hurt. We can turn back after.”

Jolly groaned in frustration as he signalled in agreeance, turning at the next light. As we did, the car behind followed suit and we watched in confusion.

“Uh hello?” Jolly yelled, shaking his head. He took another right, and the car followed us down the street once again.

“Are they…following us?” I squinted at the mirror again intensely, eying the lights.

“Jolly,” Y/N said, her breath hitching, “Take another right…”

He agreed, and the car still followed.

“One more,” Her voice was quiet now, her hand slipping into mine. Y/N entwined our fingers nervously, her palms clammy. My heart twitched in awe that she wanted to hold my hand.

“If the car turns with us,” she said restlessly, “They’re following us… because then we will be on the same road as before.”

My leg bounced as I watched this unfold, Nicholas and I peering at each other as we turned right. I sucked in an anticipated breath as there were no lights following for a moment; but then the same car turned the corner, speeding up to us.

“Shit,” Jolly pushed the gas pedal, sending the car forward. Y/N turned to look at me with worry, and I couldn’t help but match her expression. I held her hand firmly, my other gripping the handle that hung from the roof.

“Do you think-” Y/N’s voice wavered as she clung to me, “It’s them?”

Nicholas watched, confused, “Who? What is going on?”

“Jolly, step on it,” Nick yelled.

“Actually I was thinking of pulling over and chatting- Of course I’m fucking stepping on it!” Jolly mumbled in miffed anger, turning again.

The street light up ahead flashed yellow and the van rumbled beneath as Jolly floored it to make the light in time. The chase intensified as he navigated through the chaos of the city. Y/N squeezed my hand nervously and leaned into my side.

“We need to get out of town- who knows what’ll happen if we have to stop at a red light,” Nicholas huffed, turning back and forth between us and the car.

“Well, I ain’t stopping at a red light regardless,” Jolly turned the vehicle again, our bodies swaying with the velocity, “but hold on.”

It was a race down the vacant streets as we hastily sped past various buildings. They became a blur, before completely disappearing once we reached the outskirts of the city.

“Folio,” I grabbed the back of his seat, pulling my face next to his, “Are the extra masks and guns still in the glovebox?”

Nick opened the glovebox and Y/N’s pills spilled out, rolling onto the floor. I frowned for a brief moment before watching Nick reach for the fabric that lay inside. He passed each of us a mask, except Y/N, before handing me the gun.

I pulled out the clip, checking that I had enough rounds. Clicking it back in, I slipped the black mask over my face, Nicholas and Nick following.

I peered at Y/N through the holes of the mask, her eyes widening with fear.

“What’s the plan?” Nick asked from the front, rummaging underneath the seat for a moment before pulling out another gun. He passed it to Nicholas, who slid it into his waistband.

I watched the car’s erratic movements as it swayed with us, mimicking our every twist and turn.

“Pull off the road and confront them?” Nicholas suggested, and I snickered, rolling down the window.

“Time to play a game,” I muttered, unbuckling my seatbelt.

“Noah-” Y/N gripped my wrist, holding me, “What are you doing?”

I pulled away from her grip, “Warning shots. Maybe get a tire or two.”

I turned my body so I was facing the back, before pulling my head out of the window. The wind whipped past the back of my body forcefully as the car drove hastily along the road, my arm wobbling through the instability of the speed. My other hand remained holding onto the handle inside, attempting to ground myself, to avoid falling out of the moving car.

I held up the gun, pointing it toward the car that trailed behind tauntingly. Without hesitating I pulled the trigger, my finger grazing the metal as it fired. My wrist moved subtly with the kickback and I watched the bullet bounce off the pavement before I shot another, now hitting the hood of the car. The metal twanged in response, small sparks flying.

The vehicle swerved, attempting to avoid my shots as I fired a few more. The drivers slowed down for a second before speeding up, ignoring my threat.

I snarled at their resilience, firing another shot that then flew into the left headlight, burning it out. The car sped up again, this time pulling up right into the bumper.

They were going to try and hit us off the road.

“Fuck,” I muttered angrily, slipping back inside the car. I clicked my seatbelt into place, checking Y/N’s and making sure it was secure.

“So clearly they’re not backing off!” Nick screamed through the sound of the engine, and Jolly yelled at him.

“No shit!”

With a surge of determination, Jolly gripped the steering wheel tightly and pushed down on the accelerator one last time, determined to escape the chaos unfolding behind us. My heart hammered as I watched Jolly push the van to its limits, and the race against time and fate left Y/N uneasy beside me.

“I can’t go fast enough in this piece of shit they’re gonna hit us,” Jolly blared, knuckles whitening, “Hold on!”

Jolly slowed in an attempt to brace for impact, and the car behind us rammed into our bumper, the screeching of tires filling the air as our vehicle swerved to the side. The world seemed to slow as our bodies swung, our van colliding with the car of the unknown. I reached for Y/N, our fingers barely able to entwine as my lungs collapsed, my breath escaping me in complete shock.

The air was thick with the smell of burnt rubber and gasoline, my mind in a haze. Our van spun into the cement barricade that bordered the highway and the impact sent debris flying in all directions, the shockwave of the collision reverberating within my body. Glass from the windows shattered around us, spraying like glitter in the moonlight as the impact jolted the five of us forward. Time was still as the turmoil unfolded in a split second, leaving a trail of destruction in its wake.

As my head throbbed and ears rang, the faint taste of blood lingered on my tongue. Dust and debris filled the air as whiplash consumed me, and I peered at Y/N whose body hung folded over the middle seat.

“Y/N-” I coughed, choking on the lack of oxygen that fought to fill my lungs. I reached for her, my knuckles torn from the glass. The world began to fade away as I pushed myself toward her, gripping her body.

“Y/N,” I yelled, and she groaned, her head flopping towards me. A trail of crimson trickled from her forehead, dirt coating her features. She coughed and sucked in a shaky breath, before her E/C eyes opened, landing on me.

“Noah,” She whispered, barely audible as she blinked slowly, coming to. Adrenaline coursed through my veins, and the shock of the situation hit like a ton of bricks as I remembered the situation seconds prior. Whoever hit us was surely going to get to us any second.

I pulled away from Y/N’s grip slowly, leaning down as my head spun, searching for the gun.

“Ruffles-” Y/N turned to him with worry, moving slowly as she placed a hand on both sides of his face, checking the cuts that dug into his skin.

Nicholas moaned in pain as he responded, and my eyes followed his gaze towards Jolly and Folio. Both airbags had exploded, their heads lying against the white canvas that was gradually beginning to deflate. Were they alive?

My heart raced as I gripped the gun lying on the floor, before attempting to push myself between the seats, a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach, “Nick? Jolly?”

“What the fuck,” Nick murmured in pain and I sighed in relief once I heard his voice, before poking Jolly. He let out a loud grunt.

The van was in complete shambles, and I struggled to free myself from the twisted metal and broken glass that surrounded us. I kicked open the backseat door and crawled out of the car, my hands landing on the cool asphalt. The dimly lit surroundings cast eerie shadows, adding to the disorientation and vulnerability as I stood up, scoping out the scene.

The car that followed us was barely smashed on the other side of the road; both front doors opened once I was in view. A gunshot flew past my ear, ricocheting off the cement.

“Shit, shit, shit,” I muttered under my breath, ducking behind the wreckage of the van. I peered into the vehicle as Y/N rubbed her eyes, “They’re firing at us!”

Nick pushed the door open, his body rolling onto the ground, groaning, “The gun,” He swayed, pulling himself up, searching the car with a hand, “Ruffilo! Give me the gun!”

More shots were fired from behind and I covered my head, looking back at Y/N who hid in Nicholas’ chest, completely afraid. He gripped her tightly, protecting her head as he threw the gun to Folio, who cocked it, placing his back against the torn metal.

Jolly yelled at Nick to move as he crawled from the driver’s seat to the passengers, sliding out, and hiding behind the debris, “We need to form a plan!”

“There’s no time,” I growled, closing my eyes as my breath heaved from my chest, anticipating the worst as the shots got closer and closer, bouncing between the road and the metal of the car.

I got down on the ground, my knees rubbing against the rock as I peeked around what was left of the bumper. Amongst the dust from the collision two figures appeared from the smoke, their black suits slick and barely untouched- comical.

My eyes squinted in recognition as I looked at their heads, the slick silver sheen glinting from the moonlight. The muzzle was long, and the ears appeared sharp and pointy, followed by a set of painted black features.

Fox masks covered their identity, the two walking in sync towards us.

The article. The Twins.

“Noah-” Jolly hunched over, his breathing erratic as his tattered long hair peeked from beneath the mask he now slid over his face, “Who is it?”

My mind skimmed to a conclusion as I scooted back, “They’re here for Y/N. We need to get her away from here, or at least distract them till she can run.”

“N0,” Y/N pulled herself from Nicholas, tears streaming down her face. She peered out the broken window, a hand climbing to her mouth as she held it there in fear once she saw them, “You guys need to run. They want me, I don’t need you getting hurt.”

I shook my head, cocking the gun, “I told you I would protect you. I will not go back on my word.”

“No, you don’t understand,” She almost screamed in dread, “That has to be Kiean and Kade. They used to tell me if shit hit the fan, they’d turn to the fox masks.”

“What does that mean?” I shook my head in confusion, looking at them once again before turning my attention to Y/N.

“They twisted an old Indigenous legend of the fox twins,” She said, watching them as she spoke, “instead of the twins growing as heroes from their demise, they strive for revenge.”

I pulled at the fabric that covered my face, readjusting it before standing up. I dropped the loaded gun next to my foot, before revealing myself from behind the car.

“Noah!” She yelled, but I continued walking out, holding my hands up.

The one on the right pointed the gun at me, my throat aching from the adrenaline as I heaved nervously.

“Where is she,” His voice was muffled from the mask, deep and antagonizing as he held the threat menacingly.

I shook my head, hands held up high in surrender, “Who the hell are you talking about?”

“You think I’m stupid?” The man scoffed, turning his head to look at his companion before back at me.

“You assholes were following us. I don’t know who you’re talking about and what you want.” my demeanour was cold, and overly calm considering the circumstances. I was a ticking time bomb, ready to lunge at any second.

A deep laugh erupted behind the same mask, “I will shoot you. Get her out here.”

I scoffed, lowering my hands, “Look, we don’t have anything you want. So, I think we’re done here.”

The gun pointed toward me clicked, and I swallowed harshly, staring at the barrel.

“Y/N,” The man said, her name foreign and vile as it trailed from his mouth. He knew she was there.

I dared not to look at the car behind me, but I noticed a figure move from my peripheral. No Y/N, don’t.

“Again,” I laughed, mocking them with stupidity, “There’s only four of us- and this Y/N person isn’t one-”

The man then took quick steps forward with the gun, and before I knew it Y/N shouted, exposing herself as she stood in front of me, guarding my chest.

“NO!”

Fuck.

The fox tilted his head as the gun was now placed in front of Y/N’s forehead, her shoulders heaving with her erratic breaths. Her arms were out protectively toward the men as she placed herself between death and remorse; the other gun from the car within her grasp. My stomach swirled with unease and liability.

Seconds felt like minutes as we stood there; but finally, his weapon lowered, arm slowly resting against his side. His free hand reached underneath the bottom of the plastic that covered his head, peeling off the layer of false anonymity.

Dull green eyes met mine, the repulsion behind them dissolving me from the inside out. His gaze was almost feral as his lip turned into a snarl at my presence; he didn’t dare look away as he spoke.

“This?” he scoffed, appalled, “You moved on to this piece of shit?”

The wavy head of dirty blonde hair that sat on his head was paired with a straight upturned nose, slight facial hair, and a nose ring. He was the definition of a pretty-white boy surfer, and my eyes narrowed.

“Fucking whore.” He spit as he then stared at Y/N, his jaw clenching. The muscles in his neck tightened as he watched her viciously.

“Kade,” The next voice warned, and I peered at the twin who stood behind him. As he took his mask off I swore I heard Y/N gasp ever so lightly, the gun in her grasp lowering slightly.

This man looked almost identical to the one looming over us; except his hair was to his shoulders, the top tied back into a small bun. His eyes seemed softer- gentler. The emerald gaze was more vibrant as he stared at her; until he met mine.

“Please,” Y/N’s voice wavered, “Let him go. Take me, but let him go.”

“Why?” Kade laughed, tapping the gun against his thigh, “you care about him?”

Kade stepped forward, and Y/N stepped back, pushing into my torso.

“Hmm?” He taunted.

“I- you don’t need to do anything irrational,” She held up her hands. She was afraid.

“This your new toy?” The blonde’s words began digging into her, but his eyes remained on me.

She hiccuped, holding her hands up in front of her face in defence as he got closer to us.

“You’re fucking him now?” He roared.

“K-Kiean,” She stuttered, almost in a plea toward the other twin.

Kiean.

As I went to move in front of her, the back of Kade’s hand swung into Y/N’s head, the handle of the gun cutting the skin above her lip. She clutched her face as she stumbled backward, falling onto the asphalt. The gun slid across the road.

Anger rose from my chest instantly, “Don’t you fucking touch her,” My voice dripped with venom, and without thinking I held my arm up, sending a forceful blow into the side of Kade’s neck.

As if a bomb went off, he lunged for me, my back sliding onto the cement as he fell on top of me, “I want to see your pathetic face,” He screamed, his anger ripping from his throat as he began punching my chest, clawing at the fabric that covered me.

The air I had left was dispersing from my lungs as I began rolling with him, punching him back.

“Noah!” Y/N screamed as she scrambled to her feet, running toward me; but the other twin grabbed her, caging her in his arms. She thrashed aggressively, attempting to free herself.

I heard the shuffling of footsteps from the side and Jolly appeared, throwing himself into Kade’s body. Nick was right behind, picking me up as Nicholas ran toward Y/N and Kiean.

A gunshot ripped through the air and everybody froze, my ears ringing with anticipation.

Time slowed once again as I looked up at Y/N.

Kiean held Y/N firmly, the gun pointed at her head. Tears of terror began brimming her eyes as she grabbed at the suit covering his arm.

I exhaled quickly as I watched Y/N; the fear in her eyes radiating back at me- hopeless. I shook my head, licking my lips in panic; I needed her. It took everything in me not to run toward her as the gun pressed vehemently into her skull.

“Don’t move,” Kiean said, slowly backing towards the car. Kade quickly got his feet, scurrying away from Jolly and following his copy. Kade grabbed the gun that Y/N had dropped, pointing it toward the four of us.

“Noah-” Y/N cried, her body convulsing in her captor’s arms as he dragged her closer to the car.

Her lips trembled as she screamed her last word before Kiean put her in the car, “Run.”

Kade began to fire at us and we ducked, running back to the smashed van for shelter as bullets flew past us. My heartbeat pounded in my ears as adrenaline washed through me once again. I wanted to yell, I wanted to cry. I wanted to run to Y/N, and I wanted to tell her it would all be okay.

But I couldn’t- she was gone.

And I was a coward.

A useless fucking coward.

The gunshots ceased as the engine revved, doors slamming as the sound of wheels spinning out filled the midnight scene. The car began racing down the road, taking Y/N with them.

My saving grace.

Our heavy breathing was all I could hear as I squeezed my eyes shut, an angry scream crawling from my lungs. I threw my mask to the grounds.

+++++

The leaves crunched beneath my feet as I waded, tears brimming my eyes. I placed the white flower on top of the stone, sighing as I sniffed and sat down. The dying grass was wet beneath my legs, but I didn’t care.

“It’s been a while,” I whispered, lowering my head towards my deaf listeners. The breeze swirled through my hair, my brunette locks swaying gently with each gust. I zipped up my black jacket, placing my hands into the pockets.

“I met a nice girl,” I laughed ever so softly, her image filling my mind. I closed them once the memory of two nights ago crashed through her smile, blurring the good and bad.

“And I already fucked up,” I wiped my nose as my throat tightened, “I tainted her.”

The wind whistled between the graves as if responding.

I picked at the grass for a moment, playing nervously with the strands I pulled from the dirt, “she’s gone. I don’t know how to find her.”

My vision blurred as silent tears fell, and my head bowed again.

“I miss you, mom.” I used my sleeve to dry my cheeks, “and you, dad.”

The three of us sat in silence, the trees above the cemetery singing with the autumn air. I spoke to them for a few more minutes. I tried to make it quick, knowing that if I stayed longer I wouldn't be able to leave.

“I hope you get to meet her someday,” I murmured as I stood, dusting off my pants.

“I’d like to hear about this girl.”

My stomach dropped as I whipped around in alarm, my heart thumping rapidly once I met his silver completion.

+++++

Soon, I’ll kill my final piece of evidence… and soon, I’ll have control of Fidelio.

+̴̡̧̹̿̊̇̀̾̽̉̈́̾̓̚͘+̶̧̻̰̣̳͉̈́̐͛̏̐͆+̷̝̻̗͖̞̗̟̬̉͆́̓͒̀̐̽̐̚͘͝+̸̨̡̡͓͚̱̲̻͚̭̙̩̤̐ͅ+̷̨͈̗̾͒̑͝

We couldn’t save our lives but we’re here Drunk and fucked up so in love what we once had Now it’s over, one last time here On the streets but they lead nowhere Time and time again we were not thankful for our gifts Things we took for granted like a sweet kiss on your lips We could have been at the start of our days but it ends Stories have been told You’re so pretty when you’re drunk In a world like that

Chapter 8

#bad omens #noah sebastian #bad omens cult #bad omens band #noah sebastian davis #burning out fanfic #nick folio #nicholas ruffilo #nick ruffilo #sorrows of silence #burning out #crime #crime fanfic

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miniwheat77 · 1 year

Text

Dark. (Ghost x Reader.)

!CW! NSFW, Smut, p in v sex, implications of somnophilia, non-con, stalking, yandere behavior, read at your own risk, MINORS DNI!!!!

(Summary): No matter how close he is to you, it’s never enough.

*Not proofread*

His dark eyes always watched you from afar. Maybe more than he should. More than anyone realized. When you'd tag along with him on missions, he watched you like a hawk and was always checking up on you, making sure you were okay. Obviously, as guarded as he was, he did it indirectly. He didn't speak much, he was more of an observer.

He seen almost everything. He knew what foods you liked, and what you favored versus just tolerated for the job. Those few foods you absolutely hated and under no circumstances would you eat it. He knew all about your extensive nightly routine, skincare, haircare, and all. Soap always interrupted your routine which usually resulted in you threatening the poor lad, but it was entertaining and always left Soap walking off snickering like some kid. Maybe he shouldn't know that, maybe he had snuck into the women's barracks a couple times. Maybe he's seen your body, but who's keeping count right? He’d never admit to anything. No harm no foul.

Ghost actually quite admired how much you cared for yourself, and he knew why. Countless hours of research, hacking, taking your phone in the middle of the night. He knew everything there was to know about you. What schools you went to, who your parents and siblings were, who you hated in school, who your friends were. He didn't know it then, he knows who all of your ex-boyfriends were. But he knows you pay so much money and put so much effort into your skincare because you were relentlessly bullied for having acne. He doesn't see it, to this day he doesn't think he could even point out one blemish on your face, or maybe he thought that was just him being so in love with you that he doesn't see any imperfections.

He's gotten up close looks. He might have a couple pairs of your panties from missions he's gone alongside you on over the years. Maybe he'd slipped something in your drink a time or two to help you to bed, maybe he'd help you into your pajamas after you'd passed out, and yeah. Maybe he looked and touched a little more than he should. You were just so beautiful, he couldn't help it. It started to get worse. He'd bring vials of any medication he could get his hands on. He often compared himself to the creepy villain in 'The Resident.' Injecting those syringes of medication into your toes so that you'll stay asleep, so that the pinch won’t wake you. He'd admire you, sometimes he'd touch you. Your Captain always worried that you were so tired, but you still functioned nonetheless. He felt guilty for taking advantage of you in your unconscious state, but he just couldn’t help himself. You were so beautiful. So stunning to him, you were made for him. Only him.

Ghost often wondered, how far was he willing to take this? Could he imagine making innocent people disappear? Because there was no way he was going to allow you to have any guy friends or boyfriends. No way, he’d stop that every time. Ghost even went as far as moving near you. So than, he’d still be near you even when you weren’t on a mission together. Sometimes you’d invite him out for drinks and he always agreed.

His fingertips danced over your stomach, he didn’t see it, but in your groggy state, you knew who it was, who was touching you.

When you woke up the next morning all of your questions had been answered. The sore feeling in your toes, being groggy, KNOWING someone was in your room but never being able to catch them in the act. Finding out it’s Ghost sends you spiraling. You wondered why he was doing this, but the way his lustful eyes stared down at you, you knew why.

You’re sitting on the rooftop, Ghost was taking over for your watch this time. It was no surprise that he shows up early. He’s quiet, regretful eyes as he avoids your gaze. He feels remorse for doing what he’s doing. And he doesn’t even know he’s been caught yet. You pretend like nothing happened. You want to say something to him, tell him you’ve caught him. But you don’t. You continue on with your night.

A couple hours later when his watch was done, you pass him in the hallway, on your way to the showers. You walk into the women’s locker room, laying down your clothes and pulling off your dirty uniform. You fold them up, placing them down on the bench. The moment you stepped into the shower, you could feel eyes burning into you. That’s when you first notice it.

The tiny peep hole bored into the tile. You swallow hard. Maybe you could play his game.

You take your time lathering up your body. Washing yourself off. You quickly finishing washing your entire body and face, hair following. You bite your lip, hand sliding between your legs. Your fingers started to dance over your opening, and maybe your moans were a little louder than they intended to be. But you went with it, moaning as you slipped your fingers into yourself. You’re sure those watchful eyes are connected to a hand. Touching himself. Eyes screwed shut, stroking himself.

“I know you’re watching me.”

His eyes snap open and he freezes. Was it his mind playing tricks on him? He stares through the hole again. You’ve slowed and your eyes are fixed onto the wall he’s stood behind. “I left the door unlocked. I know you’re there.” You breath. “You can come in, I won’t bite.” You whimper.

You don’t hear anything, and for a moment you don’t think he’ll go for it. But you hear the door open.

He closes it behind himself, locking it. Walking in.

His mask is intimidating. He towers over you, a mountain of a man. He closes the gap between the both of you, face only centimeters from you. “I know what you’re doing to me.” His eyes flare out. “Drugging me while I’m asleep. Touching me.” You breath. His posture goes rigid, and he jumps back as you reach a hand out.

“It’s okay.” You reach for his hand that’s laying limp at his side. You grasp it, raising it up, pulling his fingers apart and laying it over your breast. He closes his eyes tightly. “You didn’t have to wait until I was asleep. You could’ve just told me, come right in.” He gives your breast a squeeze, barely being able to contain himself. “You’re starved for it, hm?” You smile. You lean into him, lips brushing over his mask slightly. He grasps a tight hold of your throat, pushing you back into a row of lockers. They rattle as your back meets with them, a gasp leaving your lips. “So fucking beautiful.” He lifts his mask up to the bridge of his nose. He smashes his lips to yours, teeth knocking into yours as he kisses you fervently. He tears his gloves off, jacket following quickly. The rest of his uniform comes next until he’s only got on a pair of jeans and his mask. He’s attacking your neck with kisses and you’re moaning out. “Ghost..” his name rolls off of your tongue and his pupils flare out again. He quickly picks you up by your thighs with ease, lifting you up and walking with you back into the shower you had left running. He lays you down onto the cold tile, the warm water keeping the both of you warm as he makes his first move.

He soaks his jeans, tearing them off and struggling a bit as he does, but when he gets them off, he lines himself up with your entrance. “So sexy..” he growls. He attacks your nipples with his tongue, sucking at them until they’re sensitive, causing you to raise your hips into him. “Ghost- please.”

“Simon. Call me Simon.” He pants. His mask is soaked and water drips off of it. His lips and nose are still exposed and he’s panting, like a wild animal. He pushes the tip of his cock into your hole and he’s huge. He starts stretching you straight away, a moan leaving your lips as he slides into you. You tilt your head forward, watching his massive cock slide into you, moaning out. “Like that? Huh?” He pushes his hand against your throat, pinning you down onto the floor. “Like watching my cock slide into you? Hm?”

A strangled “yes” leaves your lips and he groans out. “I’ve been waiting so long for this. So long to be inside of this sweet pussy.” He growls.

It’s filthy. Luckily the shower running conceals the lewd squelching sounds of your wet pussy, the way his skin slaps up against yours, your moans. It’s something you’d hear in pornography. Your body is soaked and the water is still warm, he’s fucking himself into you at a fast pace, splitting you open with his cock. At the pace he’s going, you’re not sure how much you’ll be able to take. “S-Simon-“ you gasp, pushing his hips back. He almost cried at the thought of you stopping him. “Relax, m’not going anywhere. You can take your time with me.” You’re breathing hard and he’s panting above you. “Sorry- I just. You’re so beautiful. I’ve wanted this for so long.” He’s still rolling his hips into you. You nod your head. “Relax, you don’t have to be rough for it to feel good.” You wrap your arms under the bends of your legs, spreading your legs wider, opening yourself up to him. His eyes widen slightly, he’s completely taken back by the fact that you actually want him. He tries to be gentle but he still fucks himself into you quickly, chasing after that high. He’s hitting deeper inside of you, leaving you crying out. You’re close to your first high already, but he’s made it clear this won’t be your last.

“Such a good girl, mine. All mine.” He growls, leaning down to attack your neck with his lips. Sucking marks into your skin. “S-Simon.” You whimper. “Gonna cum!” You gasp. “Cum for me baby. Give yourself to me.” He breathes. He props himself up onto his hands, keeping a steady pace to ride out your high. He tears a cry out of your lips as you cum hard around him. The throbbing coming from you leaves him moaning out. “Fucking hell. Can feel you throbbing around me.” He bites his lip, eyes screwed shut. He grasps his soaked mask, pulling it off and throwing it to the side. You look up at him, lifting yourself up to rest on your elbows. “Kiss me. Please.” You whimper. So he does. He’s handsome, you expected him to be obviously, the massive frame, deep voice. You knew he was hot. Wouldn’t take a genius to tell. “You-you’re really- Ah- handsome Simon!” You gasp, “and you’re fucking beautiful.” He’s distracted, the force of his thrusts have your tits bouncing, hair moving each time his hips meet with yours. He’s admiring your body, there isn’t an inch of it he doesn’t want. He wants you, all of you. He wants to fill you full, claim you as his. He’d kill for you, die for you. He can feel you tightening on him once more, and he knows your second high is approaching. He’s close too, that knot in his stomach is getting harder to ignore. “Simon!” You whimper. “I know baby. I know. It’s going to be too much but you have to let it. Gonna fill you up okay?” He breathes. He’s focused, the steadiness of his hips getting hard to control as he gets closer, he’s sloppy. He’s rolling his hips into yours, panting.

A cry leaves your lips and clutch hard at the air, skin turning a shade of red from being overwhelmed. White clouds your vision and you nearly pass out. Maybe it’s the warmth of the water, or the second mind blowing orgasm. Simon has a death grip on your hips, surely there will be bruises there when you wake up the following morning. “Fuck- fuck. Going to fill you baby. Gonna fill this tight pussy with my cum.” He growls. “Mine. This is my pussy, mine to fuck. It belongs to me.” A sob leaves your throat from the overstimulation. “Yes, it’s all yours. All yours Simon.” You’re crying. He tilts his head back, cock twitching hard and throbbing as he hits his high, cum filling up your insides, coating your walls with his seed. “Fuck!” He growls. His hips come to a halt and he’s still panting, reaching up to turn the water off as the both of you come down from your highs. “Shit.” He sighs. He draws his hips back from you and you moan as he does.

You stand up, gasping as you feel him dripping back out of you into your thighs. His eyes widen and he feels himself hardening again. His cum is sliding down between your thighs. “So fucking sexy.” He palms himself. “You gotta do me a favor sweet pea.” He breathes. “Hm?”

“Need you to go into my room and get me clothes.”

“I shouldn’t. I should leave you here for being a pervert.” You giggle to yourself. He smirks. “You’d regret that.”

“Why?”

“Because. I’ll tie your up and play with your clit for hours. Edge you and than overstimulate you. Is that something you want?” He asks. You shake your head. “Good girl. Now help me out please?” You nod your head, a smile on your lips as you begin sliding your clothes on.

Once the both of you are dressed, your mission in getting him his clothes without being seen was accomplished, he’s laying in your bed as you finish your skincare routine. “Why do ya even need all that ah?” He asks, already knowing the answer. “Skin looks perfect.”

“My skin looks perfect BECAUSE I do all of this. And if you must know.” You pause, “it’s because I was bullied in school about having acne.” He nods his head. “I’m sure 18 year old me would’ve fucked 18 year old you.” He smirks. You roll your eyes. “No more sneaking into my room when I’m asleep. If you want to see me naked just knock or wake me up.” He nods his head. “M’sorry.. you’re just so beautiful.” He sighs. He knows he’s a freak for what he did, he regrets it. You make your way over to him, straddling his hips. “Simon. I don’t mind.”

You can’t tell him, ‘I like it because it shows you’re interested in me.’ But you want to. “I forgive you. Just wake me up when you want me.” You laugh. He nods his head. “Want you now..” he sighs. “So take me.” You smirk, pulling your shirt off.

#call of duty mw2 #soap mw2 #cod mw2 #ghost mw2 #captain john price #price mw2 #alejandro mw2 #captain price #johnny soap mactavish #mw2 smut

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bookyeom · 8 months

Note

hi leslie!!!!!!! there were so many good prompts it was hard to narrow it down, but i finally decided on:

vernon + “you’re important too”

hope you have a great week and a fun time writing!! 💜✨

Hi Savv!!! Thank you so much for this. (Fun fact: my birthday was this past Sunday and I may or may not have based this slightly in truth. Birthdays are hard.)

Thank u for submitting!!!! xx

A/N: If you read and enjoy this, please reblog and/or send a comment! I'd love to know what you think.

Pairing: Vernon x Reader Word Count: 2.2k Warnings: kissing, sad reader

Today is your birthday.

Today is your birthday, and there’s a room full of all the people you care about celebrating you, with the perfect decorations and a stunning cake and flowers and balloons and the perfectly curated playlist.

It’s your birthday, and everything has gone right, so nothing should logically be able to explain why you’re sitting on the floor of your room, your back against the bed, tears streaming silently down your cheeks.

The simplest explanation is this: you’re tired.

You’re tired of doing everything for everyone else and feeling like your energy is never matched. Why is it always you who remembers the little things? Why is it always you who plans the best parties and surprises, who knows what your closest friends like? Why is it always you who will go the extra mile without being asked?

You’d planned out your whole birthday on your own. You’d picked out the decorations, made the playlist, done it all because none of your friends had offered to do it for you. They love you, you know that, but why didn’t anyone take over? Would they have planned something for you if you’d left it alone? You don’t know, and you think the not knowing is what has you currently sitting on your bedroom floor. One minute you’d been in the kitchen, looking at how cute the cake was that you’d picked out; the next, you could feel yourself spiralling, and you couldn’t even say exactly why.

You’re tired, and you feel selfish for needing a minute to feel bad for yourself in the middle of your own party. You feel silly for crying, silly for not knowing what it was that set you off, silly for needing to hide away for a little bit.

You pride yourself on being a fairly level-headed individual. You can be dramatic at the best of times, of course, but you always try your best to keep your cool. You never want to cause a scene around the people you care about, or make anyone feel bad, especially about something as trivial as your emotions. The only thing that always throws a wrench in your plans to play it cool is that you will cry involuntarily at the most inopportune moments, no matter how much you try to avoid it.

That said, you’ve gotten a lot better at hiding your mini breakdowns lately – gotten better at sneaking away into bathrooms and side rooms to be alone before the tears start to fall, better at convincing everyone that nothing is amiss when you return. This time, even in the middle of your own party, you’d made it to your room without alerting anyone, and you’d thought no one was any the wiser.

You thought. You thought you’d gotten better at hiding your emotional spirals. You thought no one noticed when you were gone. You should have known that Vernon doesn’t count.

Vernon — your boyfriend of only a few months, and already one of the best things that's ever happened to you. Your wonderful and patient and funny and kind boyfriend. He’s a little clueless sometimes, but you don’t mind – you’ve always been a good communicator, and he’s always been a good listener. You promise to tell him when you’re upset, and he promises to ask if he’s unsure. That’s the rule.

Which you may or may not have definitely broken in the last month.

You hadn’t told him anything about how upset you were while planning your own birthday party. You had brushed off his offers to help, telling him you had it all under control, which was true – the party planning part, at least. What you don’t have any control over is feeling sad that none of your friends had offered to plan your day for you, but Vernon can’t fix that, so why should you have told him? He’s a chill guy, letting you take the reins because you had said you wanted to, oblivious to your inner turmoil. It isn’t his fault that he doesn’t know how you’re feeling – it’s your fault for not telling him — and you figure it doesn’t matter, anyway. You’re the one being silly about it all, and you didn’t feel the need for him to be dragged into it.

So you hadn’t told him anything.

Which is why saying you’re surprised to hear him knocking on your bedroom door only minutes after you disappeared from your own festivities would be an understatement.

“Hey.” His quiet voice, followed by the sound of your bedroom door clicking shut, has another fresh round of tears rolling down your cheeks. You squeeze your eyes shut, like that will somehow make the tears invisible to him, not opening them even as you feel him take a seat next to you. You really don’t want him to see you like this, but there’s no choice now. You’re grateful that he doesn’t comment, simply taking your hand and bringing it into his lap, thumb gently brushing against the back of it as he waits for you to calm down.

“Sorry,” you finally manage to whisper.

“Apology rejected.”

You feel the corners of your mouth tilt up at the phrase you both use when the other makes an unnecessary apology, even when they’ve done nothing wrong. It’s a joke between the two of you that serves as a reminder that you’re safe with each other. That you're safe with him.

It’s quiet for another few moments before he speaks again. “A birthday party doesn’t really work if the one being celebrated isn’t there, you know.”

You frown, wiping at your cheek with your free hand, finally meeting his eyes for the first time in a while. “Sorry,” you say again.

Your boyfriend gives you a stern look but doesn’t comment this time, a hand reaching across to brush off any remaining tears from your face. “You were so excited for today. Did something happen?”

You bite your lip with a shrug, looking down and away from him again. “Nothing really happened. I just got overwhelmed, I guess.”

“Sensory overload?”

“No,” you say softly. “Just… feelings.”

“I can see that,” he smiles gently, his tone soft with just the perfect amount of teasing, and you’re grateful for him yet again as he lets you process. You rest your head on his shoulder, and he just sits with you in silence, nothing but the sound of your breathing and the muted boom boom boom of Britney Spears in the background. Vernon squeezes your hand once, twice, before standing up and pulling you up and onto your bed. He lies down and brings you with him, moving onto his side to see you better, and you lie on your stomach, your arms folded so you can rest your head.

“I don’t want to sound selfish, or make you feel bad, or make anyone feel bad, or…” You trail off, feeling the tears start to well up again, and before you know it you’re crying once more. You feel absolutely ridiculous, not even sure how to explain how you’re feeling to yourself, let alone to someone else. “I don’t want to tell you because I don’t want you to think I’m ungrateful.”

“Hey,” Vernon says softly. “What’s our rule? You need to tell me these things or I won’t know.” He pauses, fingers tracing the softest of circles up and down your spine “And I want to know.”

You feel a rush of guilt. You know you should have told him, that he would have helped, that he would have understood, or at least tried to. So why didn’t you?

“I just feel silly,” you admit, tears still flowing freely. “I just…” You sniffle, and Vernon watches you quietly, shifting so that his position mimics yours, his head moving to rest on his own arms. “I just wish that people did for me what I do for them. I wish that my friends knew what I wanted and did it without being told. I wish I didn’t feel like I had to plan my own party or I wouldn’t get one at all. I know that all sounds selfish, I know it does, but I just wish that I didn’t have to ask for someone to know exactly what I want!”

As soon as you finish talking, you’re immediately being pulled into a sturdy, warm chest. Your boyfriend wraps his arms entirely around you, pulling you in as tight as you can go. You have a fleeting thought amidst the tears that you’re so incredibly lucky to get this side of him – the warm, comforting, soft side. Everyone who meets him loves him – he’s shy, but witty, and he’s polite and thoughtful and a joy to be around, and though he doesn’t often approach people first, he has no trouble making friends — but not everyone gets to be wrapped up in his arms like this.

“First of all,” he murmurs as he pulls back just a little, enough to let your heads rest on the pillow as he looks at you. “You’re not selfish – you’re maybe the least selfish person I know.”

You sigh, but don’t offer a rebuttal, and a hand lifts to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear. You try to push down the guilt you feel for complaining at all, leaning into the feeling of Vernon’s fingers gently threading through your hair.

“You do so much for everyone around you all the time, it’s only fair for you to expect that in return,” he continues. “But the truth is that you’re not always going to get it back in the same way, even from the people who love you the most. That doesn’t mean we don’t love you in different ways. Think about when that girl at work gives you all of the red Skittles, or when you get a text with a song rec from Jihoon. Or When Seokmin buys you three bags of chips because he knows you like at least one of them but can’t remember which one.” Vernon beams when you crack a smile at that. “How many of your friends helped you decorate? How many of them did exactly what you asked them to do because they know you love to plan and wanted to help you make your vision come true? That’s love, too, isn’t it?”

You nod. You know he’s right. It’s quiet for a moment as you let his words sink in, your fingers idly playing with the chain around his neck.

“What about how you keep a list of my favourite snacks and our anniversary date in a note on your phone so you don't forget them?” You watch as his cheeks flush crimson as soon as the words leave your mouth, and you hold back a smile at his reaction.

“You know about that?” He sounds mortified, turning his face to bury it in the pillow. You can’t help but giggle now, your hand lifting to gently run through the hair at the nape of his neck.

“Mhm. Saw it when you were pulling up your grocery list the other day.”

“Well then, yeah,” he admits begrudgingly, turning his face to look at you again. You teasingly pull at his earlobe before your fingers softly trace his jaw. “That counts.”

“As love?” It’s out of your mouth before you can stop it, your hand freezing against his cheek, but Vernon barely bats an eyelash.

“Yeah.”

You stare at one another for a moment, the air around you suddenly tense. You can barely hear the music anymore as he looks at you. He doesn’t seem phased by your comment at all, and you vow to bring it up later – but you’ll leave it for now.

“Okay,” you whisper in affirmation, and he smiles.

“Okay.”

You kiss him first. It’s soft, a quick press of your mouth to his, but it has your toes curling regardless. And before you can pull away completely, his hand finds your waist and he pulls you back in, mouth moving slowly against yours as he kisses you senseless.

You’re startled when he pulls away suddenly, eyebrows raised almost to the sky, and you blink back at him in surprise. “What?”

“You distracted me!”

You let out a snort. “Sorry.”

“I’ll accept that rightful apology,” he says, and you roll your eyes as he continues. “What I was saying before you attacked me was,” he dives right back in as though there had been no ‘I-may-have-admitted-I-love-you’ or make-out interludes, “that you’re important, too.” He waits for it to settle, lets you sit for a minute in the discomfort, knowing how hard those words are for you to accept.

“Okay,” you say quietly, and he smiles.

“You can ask for help when you need it, or you can do it all by yourself, whatever you want. You just have to ask. So many of us would have planned a party for you if we knew that’s what you wanted,” he tells you. “What you want matters. It’s just that sometimes, you need to tell other people what that is. We’re not all A+ mind-readers like you.” He’s grinning now at his own jab, and you pout.

“I’m not a mind-reader,” you protest. “I’m an empath. It’s different!”

Vernon is beaming, and you know he’s pleased that he’s distracted you from being sad. “How about using some of that empathy to come back to the awesome party you planned so I don’t have to talk to your friends alone?”

Tagging some loves @wqnwoos @dejavernon @tae-bebe @savventeen

#vernon x reader #chs x reader #chs fic #chs fluff #vernon fluff #seventeen x reader #seventeen x you #vernon x you #seventeen fluff #my writing

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