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oh-no-its-bird · 3 months

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Fic where, in practicing to get edo tensei right, Orochimaru uses Izuna as a test subject and tries to substitute DNA to make it work, using Suigetsu's bc like it's extra flexible or whatever bc shape change

Edo tensei mermaid Izuna locked in a tube somewhere in Oro's lab,,

He's SO mad about it and has literally no information ab what's going on at all bc hes locked in a fucking tube !!

Bonus points if Orochimaru doesn't even specifically know who he is

They unearthed him w the rest of the founders on a whim but bc no one really requested him specifically, the body just kinda sat there and eventually got mixed in w the rest of the Uchiha corpses, till Orochimaru requests an Uchiha corpse and they shrug and send him over

He still has Madara's eyes too (left alone either by oversight / or bc they decided not to pull them before he got mixed in w the other bodies, who had by then already gotten scooped of their eyes so they assumed he'd already been harvested)

Ok but like. No one even tells him what happened/where he is/that madara made the village. Why would anyone?? The only one Izuna sees regularly is Orochimaru, and he doesn't know those facts would matter??

Izuna doesn't even know what Konoha IS, he isn't gonna recognize the name

From Izuna's perspective, he died in his bed and then BOOM. Tank time.

Orochimaru might tell him it's been some years since his death (thinking he died in the massacre) and even if Izuna doesn't believe him bc like, enemy, enemy territory, he sure as fuck probably won't be thinking "Ah yes it's been decades since my death and my brother went against my dying wishes to make that village"

Tho he might get nervous and start picking up those cues when he sees the tech

Oro mentions offhand that the Uchiha were all killed and Izuna immediatley assumes the Senju won the war and loses it

He'd figure it out eventually obviously (probably after being set free, most likley by Sasuke w Suigetsu) But he'd also probably keep that to himself, bc like, enemy territory n stuff

Mermaid shapeshifter Izuna terrorizes the shinobi world,, Sasuke doesn't know what he just unleashed.

Ok actually but like. Suigetsu's shape-shifting but bc Izuna has a fire chalra nature, make it liquid fire shape-shifting. Fuckin, fire mermaid Izuna. He has an awful time retaining his form and actually for the first chunk of time, him being in that tube is genuinley just for the best. He keeps turning into liquid fire with no real solid body and can't put himself back together for hours.

Izuna hears his brother is still alive and running Akatsuki and is so down to clown till he realizes THATS NOT HIS FUCKING BROTHER HOW DARE YOU USE HIS NAME

Anyways oh my god Izuna on team Taka,,

He and Sasuke would be SUCH a dynamic actually, they look alike so much?? Sasuke doesn't recognize him but he's clearly a close relation, so there's some mystery there. Sasuke is like super shaken by finding a member of his clan and Izuna, by that point aware that apparently the rest of his clan is dead, is sticking to him like GLUE. Sasuke is bitchy little brother coded and Izuna understands this is probably karma bc he is also bitchy little brother coded

They probably clash a lot, especially bc both are expecting to be in charge here, but ultimately I think they'd get along better than Sasuke does most people, and there's also that bonus vulnerability of like. Izuna is an older Uchiha boy who's trying to brother him (with a noticeably different brother-ing style to Itachi too) and Sasuke has been alone for so, so long.

Sasuke accidentally calls him nii-san then promptly has several break downs about it

Suigetsu and Izuna either get along ALARMINGLY well or they hate eachother. I think I wanna go with the first bc it sounds more fun. They couldn't talk to eachother in the tanks but they could still see eachother, so maybe they kind of developed some sort of code to communicate?

They are "cause problems on purpose" friends. They're also "wdym I can't kill him???" *looks of genuine confusion* buddies. They're giving Sasuke the biggest headache actually, someone stop them. If you leave them to "take care" of a problem, there will be carnage.

Also, like, Izuna literally has Suigetsu's DNA in him. That's a thing.

Mmm maybe some complex thoughts ab how Izuna has effectively become a bloodline thief against his will (the ULTIMATE taboo for shinobi from his era) and he's like, actually fucked up about it.

Running joke where they refer to each other as cousins, could be funny. They argue over who's the bastard child (it's Izuna obviously but he won't just take that title lying down)

Izuna is like, in his 20s, and Karin is around 16 or 17 at this time I think?? She definatley has a bit of a crush on him (which helps take the edge off Sasuke) but like, he's not acknowledging that beyond patting her on the head. She'll get over it eventually. (Sasuke hides behind Izuna when Karin is trying to flirt w him and Izuna absoloutley laughs at them both)

Izuna is actually really impressed w Karin's sensing abilities specifically. I think he'd be a bit on edge around her at first, bc Uzumaki -> Senju ally. But he'd quickly assume she's a deserter (he has no idea the Uzumaki are pretty much wiped out rip) and becomes cautiously chill after a minute or two (also when he first escapes, he REALLY doesn't have the luxury to pick and choose his allies. He's instantly attached to Sasuke and cautiously fond of Suigetsu, and Karin seems to have Sasuke's trust at least, so he'll keep an eye on it but otherwise trust Sasuke's judgment)

Izuna and Karin besties arc where they paint eachothers nails is a must. I love the take that Izuna is really into fashion n stuff and he and Karin should like, trade hair tips or smthn. Karin knows modern soap brands where as Izuna bought his soaps from clan vendors who no longer fucking exist, so like, it's definatley helpful.

Karin is the only one of them to have any real hint of where tf Izuna came from (tho even she doesn't have the full details) it'd be cool if she was the one to figure out more details ab his general mystery— maybe something about her chakra sensing gives her a hint as to how old he really is?? Or she finds the paper trail that hints towards the bodies being mixed up???? Idk but she deserves to have an "aha!" moment

Also Izuna's medical knowledge/standards are NOT up to modern and Karin is so mad about it, she's giving him hella lessons on first aid n shit and he's very, very interested in all this free medical knowledge

I know the least about Jugo so bear with me on this one pls— I think Izuna would find Jugo to be pretty fascinating as a person actually. He enjoys tentatively poking him with sticks, and comes to genuinley like him as a person (when he's calm) pretty quickly

Also cats love Izuna so he gets bonus points from Jugo bc of that, they can bond while petting Izuna's contracted cats or smthn idk

Yeah I really don't know much ab Jugo so that's all I have to offer sorry

Ok let's backtrack a bit, back to Orochimaru ->

Fun scene towards the very start of the fic, where Izuna still has no fucking clue what's going on, but recognizes Orochimaru as a member of the Orochi clan. He says as much, and Orochimaru has to pause.

No one's mentioned his clan to him in years. They haven't been relevant in Konoha since Orochimaru was born— even before that, they were barley relevant. Izuna should not know who they are.

(The only reason he does know is bc they had a neutral to positive relationship w the Uchiha back in the warring era, and Izuna had visited them once before)

Immediatley, Orochimaru is squinting at this guy. He's giving Danzo a ring asking who exactly he got sent over, but Danzo doesn't actually have anything to offer him??? The paperwork is a mess and there were a LOT of Uchiha. He's not registered as a shinobi tho.

Hmmmm.... ok.

Orochimaru is suddenly aware there's some kind of mystery here now, which is dangerous for Izuna. Izuna is, again, in enemy territory, and he's able to pick up on the fact that Orochimaru doesn't actually know who he is. This ofc means that HE sure as hell won't be telling him.

Maybe he bares his teeth and sarcastically says he's the second coming of Uchiha Madara (not even that big of a lie when u think ab it)

Pivoting time ->

Izuna is listed in the data books as like, being equally as talented as Madara and I think we should talk ab that more actually

I love Tobirama but he really did get him by surprise

Izuna just got cocky and taken by surprise!!

HE DIDNT EVEN GET COCKY HE JUST LOGICALLY DIDNT EXPECT TOBIRAMA TO FUCKING INVENT TELEPORTATION

Then he went down in the history books both in canon and out of it as the weakest of the 4, that's so tragic

Izuna gets mermaid edo tenseid and (once people know who he is) everyone is like "Ok well at least he's uhh. The weakest of the 4 right?? I mean tobirama killed him when they were like only 19/20 so we'll probably be fine???"

Then he just fucking bodies them all bc hes a nightmare actually AND on whatever special test trial edo tensei steroids they gave him

Izuna is fueled on rage and spite and he's full up on both

Imagine he gets the full story of everything that happened while he was dead too, like.

Ok so Madara goes against his EXPRESS dying wishes and makes his village. (what the fuck!!) Then backs out (yay!!) but in an awful way that effectively fucks over the entire clan for years to come (nii-san what the FUCK)

Then gets literally backstabbed by Hashirama (HE FUCKING TOLD YOU!!! WHAT DID HE FUCKING SAY!!!!!)

Then the Uchiha seem to thrive and like. Ok. He's still mad about it, but at least something... kind of nice came out of it.

THEN BOTH THE VILLAGE AND MADARA'S(?????) SCHEMES KILL THEIR ENTIRE CLAN

Izuna is SO mad at literally everyone, holy shit. The only one safe from his rage is Hikaku, god rest his poor, poor soul

Actually, I think it'd be funny if Izuna was like, indescribably extra awful mad at everyone— but then is like. Normal mad amounts at Tobirama, who was a bitch but at least didn't seem to carry on a personal fucking vendetta against the Uchiha like EVERYONE ELSE INCLUDING FUCKING MADARA FOR SOME GODDAMN REASON

Izuna is going like, "FUCK you, FUCK you, OH, EXTRA FUCK YOU—" then squints at Tobirama and goes "...fuck you." Then goes back to screaming

To be clear, Tobirama absolutely contributed to the end of the Uchiha, but like. A) it'd be funny, and B) at least his seemed slightly less on purpose than literally everyone else

There's also I think a difference of like. Izuna never expected Tobirama to suddenly turn around and be pro Uchiha

Where as everyone else (again, including his brother!!) Was like. A genuine betrayal

Tobirama fucking over the clan was never a surprise

He never pretended to be on their side (like Hashirama lowkey did)

Tobirama vs Izuna but it's them getting to relive their rivalry where as Izuna vs literally anyone else is emotionally charged as hell and filled with demented screaming

Leaving it there for now, I might actually try to write this one but who tf knows

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xxsunoosprincess · 7 months

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HOLY SHIT THE OT6 KINKS?? JAKE??? TICKLING??? PLEASE I NEED MORE OF THIS IM BEGGING - <3

For some reason I don’t think Jake is that well-versed in the kink world so everything he likes he figured out through his own experimentation. Tickle kink is no different me thinks…

(smut below the cut, minors DNI)

Jake has always been super clingy with you. He loves to cuddle and hold your hand and play wrestle so I think this kinda came naturally. Maybe one day you had to leave but he really didn’t want you to so he lays on top of you with his full body weight. He nuzzles himself into the crook of your neck as he whines out “please don’t leave, y/n.”. You can’t help but giggle because his breath on your skin tickles!! You tell him this, that your neck is really sensitive as you bat him away and it unleashes a beast in him. “Oh you mean here?” He whispers in your ear with a cheeky grin before blowing cool air at the side column of your neck. It has you shying away and squirming in his hold and he has to bite back a moan. It’s obvious he is affected by this though, you can feel the way he is filling out in his lounge shorts.

“I don’t have time to suck you off, I really have to be on time!” You lightly scold him when he grinds his half-hard dick against your thighs. It makes him whine about you being unfair, and when you laugh back “how am I being unfair, I didn’t even do anything” as you finally escape his hold, he turns bright red and shyly mumbles out some bullshit excuse. He honestly doesn’t know what about this specific interaction turned him on either. While he finds your irresistibly hot, he can’t help but think it has something to do with the fact that your giggles are still ringing in his ears.

About a thousand kisses later, you are finally out the door, and Jake is back in bed tugging on his hard cock and thinking about how precious you sounded when you laughed and how cute you looked squirming underneath him :(

It just progresses from there. You wonder why he has you in missionary so often, but it’s just so he has ample access to your body. He hands seems to be glued to your torso, his mouth to your neck. And god, he never stops running his mouth. “You like that baby? You like when I fuck you like this?” with each sentence punctuated by sharp thrusts. The feeling of his hands and the whispers into your ear and his thick cock leave you torn between lust and squeamish pleasure, ripping laughter out of your chest. God that’s what he wanted to hear. He cums impossibly hard, pulling out to paint your tummy with jizz. Uncharacteristic for a man that loves to cum inside, but it all makes sense when he leans down to lick his own finish off your skin. You squeal and laugh again, but he doesn’t stop until he is facing your cunt and his tongue is lapping at your clit. Makes you finish in his mouth, still tickling at your sides while you squirm.

a/n: tbh honest I don’t know much about this, so let me know if I missed the mark!! Last post for the night before I retire :3 reblogs are appreciated xx - princess

taglist : @sunoofairyofsass @cha0thicpisces (dm or fill out form to be added to taglist)

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harrypotterandthefandomaccount · 2 years

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brushing of noses

pairing: neville longbottom x fem!reader (use of she/her pronouns)

request: Hello! I'd love to order from you, Neville x female reader. Reader is Snape's goddaughter, reader's parents trust Snape a lot so they made him reader's godfather and he can watch her almost ALL the time at school. Reader and Neville become boyfriend and girlfriend (THEY LOVE EACH OTHER SO MUCH), you know, reader is extremely affectionate with Neville even in public, hugging him, wanting to kiss him every so often and although it's nice to have his bubble of love, it also gives Neville some fear since he feels Snape's murderous gaze on himself every time his girlfriend wants to express her love xD Snape would be like a jealous father and Neville the son-in-law afraid that Snape would poison him

warnings: yule ball is in fifth year instead of fourth, snape being snape

note: i've been WAITING for someone to send me a neville request, he deserves all the love in the world <3

your parents trusted your uncle severus a whole lot, and part of you believed most of that trust stemmed from the fact that he works at hogwarts and is able to keep a watchful eye on you.

they, as in your parents, have never denied your suspicions, but simply respond with, "uncle severus has shown how much he cares for you, and being a professor at your school is just a bonus."

oh, it was indeed a bonus. but at times it was as if you were suffocating.

you loved neville longbottom more than anything in the world, and him, you.

ever since that god-awful professor gilderoy lockhart had unleashed pixies into the classroom and strung neville high up into the air, questioning, "why me?" neville genuinely believed that he was never going to get a break. however, that changed once he heard the incantation, "wingardian leviosa!" and he felt his body being lifted until he hit the floor.

your second-year self had rushed over to him, asking if he was alright after the fiasco. he looked up at you, eyes wide in admiration while nodding his head, "t-thank you, y/n!"

you had smiled brightly, "of course neville! now, let's give those pixies a piece of our minds, yeah?"

from then on, you and neville were two peas in a pod. he knew of you and your family, yet was never one to judge too quickly. sure, your family had power in the wizarding world, but he never heard of any ties to you-know-who or even the malfoys. maybe you were good.

and that you were.

as time went on, well into your third year, neville had learned that you were genuinely the nicest, sweetest person he had ever known. he knew you like all of his plants, and had even named one of his mallowsweet leaves after you. you had patience for him, were willing to hear him talk about herbology or his parents, or how much gran upset him whenever she said that he would never live up to their family's expectations.

as your friendship evolved, you had eventually told neville of snape's relation to you in your third year, calling him "uncle sev" as neville looked at you as though you had three heads. you wanted neville to know that professor snape just wanted to look after you, and if snape was ever mean to him, you would talk to him.

by fourth year, it was evident that you and neville longbottom were best friends - and uncle severus was not a fan. his rude comments toward neville seemed to intensify and though he wanted to say something to you, he was not one to step into family business. he had never told you about what your uncle would say, but just the glares that he would get from snape if he were around you was enough to shut his mouth.

then, by merlin, on the train to hogwarts in the beginning of your fifth year, neville had asked you to be his girlfriend. while he was unbelievably nervous because he did not want to face snape's wrath, you held his hands in a hidden corridor of the express and he calmed almost immediately. your eyes had lit up and allowed neville to hold your face between his hands, your noses lightly brushing. you had considered that your first kiss.

neville loved you with his whole heart, but sometimes he thought that you actually wanted him killed by professor snape.

you loved showing neville attention, whether it be holding his hand when walking to class, kissing his cheek at breakfast, rubbing noses in the transfiguration courtyard, or, at this present moment, kissing under the starry night of the great hall during the yule ball.

neville had asked you weeks ago when you cuddled in his bed, poster curtains giving you both privacy as he gently ran his fingers over your back. your head was on his chest as his head laid atop of yours, pressing his lips into your hair ever so gently.

"petal," he began, "i know this is probably a given, but would you like to go to the yule ball with me?"

you lifted your head, an adoring smile on your face as you lifted a hand to his cheek, "of course, handsome. i would love to."

neville blushed and pulled you closer, his free hand catching your cheek as you both leaned in, lips meeting in a soft kiss. with a rub of your noses as you both pulled away, you gave a soft laugh, "I'm going to blow your socks off, longbottom."

neville brushed some hair out of your eyes, "you do everyday, petal."

you were right, of course. your dress had simply blown neville away and he was rendered speechless when you had walked down the stairs. you met your boyfriend at the bottom of the staircase, "where are your socks?"

neville chuckled, dipping his head as he grabbed your hand, "off somewhere in the world, i suppose, dove. I'm not sure that I'm ready to show you off to the school, you uncle especially."

you blushed, brushing your nose with his, "I'm only focused on you, nev. plus, my uncle can shove it tonight. now c'mon, i wanna dance with you."

the ball was spectacular, and it was an experience to be within a huge group of students dancing together as music played beautifully in the background. however, through the night, a slow dance was needed, and though neville hadn't seen your uncle severus yet, he was still nervous to put his hands on your waist.

you had looked up at him, settling his nerves immediately. with a small smile, you wrapped both arms around his neck, "just me and you, handsome."

he grasped onto your waist, breathing a bit steadier, "just us, petal." neville leaned down, capturing your lips in a kiss as you sighed, relaxing into him. he had that effect on you, calming you and just allowing you to feel him.

he pulled away, admiration clear in his eyes, "i love you, flower. with all my being."

tears found themselves at your waterline as you smiled at him, holding his cheek in your hand, "and i love you, nev. more than you could ever know."

soon enough, the song ended and you had excused yourself to the bathroom, kissing neville's cheek before you left. he watched you go from one of the pillars, eyes following your figure as far as he could just to see you.

that was until one professor severus snape stepped into his view.

neville let out a yelp, taking a step back and meeting the cold stone of the pillar. severus towered over him and his eyes were the most unkind he had ever seen.

"pr-professor snape, didn't see you there! enjoying the ball?" neville asked, voice full of nerves as he prepared himself for his untimely death.

snape almost growled at neville as he whimpered, "don't play coy with me, longbottom. who do you think you are, kissing my goddaughter like that? did you poison her with amortentia? I'll have you found out, longbottom, and torture you until you are deemed worthy of mercy."

neville stopped shaking, his fear turning into...anger? he furrowed his brows, "amortentia, sir? you really think i would do that to someone as, as beautiful, as kind, as loving as y/n? no, sir, respectfully, you have it all wrong."

snape glared, "watch your words, longbottom."

"no, sir - i think you better watch yours," neville began, "i love your goddaughter, and i am doing everything in my power to keep her safe, to protect her from this world, and she has shown me what it is like to love so strongly, that it hurts. she is my world, professor snape, and while i am deathly afraid of you, she is worth it. so, in the words of my girlfriend, shove it."

both men hadn't realized it, but you were back from the bathroom, directly behind your uncle as neville had confessed everything to snape. your breath hitched, and snape turned around, eyes meeting yours as a smile appeared on your face. snape glanced at neville, the tiniest hint of a smirk on his face, before he turned and kissed your forehead. then, he was off.

you immediately pranced onto neville, kissing him with all the love you could muster. your heart was full, as was his, and neville couldn't stop his heart from beating so fast. neville pulled away, letting you breathe as you laid your hands on his chest.

you played with the buttons on his suit, "he wasn't too mean, was he?"

neville shook his head, "nothing i couldn't handle, flower. all for you."

with a small nod, you looked at neville, "just give him time, you'll grow on him. with the way you put him in his place, seems like you've already proven yourself. not that you need to, nev, uncle sev is just-"

neville rubbed his nose with yours, "i know what you meant, petal. i just hope i didn't overstep and he poisons me tomorrow morning."

you giggled, "oh, my love. you did exactly what he wanted you to do."

neville cupped your cheek, "you're my world, petal. you know that?"

with a smile, you leaned into his hand, "and you're mine, nev. forever and always."

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deathpressmonogatari · 1 month

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I had this massive rant last night but I'm just so unhappy with Shadow of The Erdtree. You can feel so much got cut or butchered for the final product and it hurts. The dlc is beautiful, the journey and locations are magical, it's such a good experience. But the story is so flat, so weak.

The lore is interesting. Everything we learn about Marika gives us so much. We know about her, why she did the things they did. Her people. Why she reacted to her omen children the way we did. We learn about the fingers and the absence of the greater will and how that has led to our twisted world, with Metyr reaching out to the nothingness. And that's where it ends.

I've been very critical of Miquella's handling in the dlc, I don't like how someone so important is relegated to like 4 voice lines and zero reason as to why we want to oppose him and join his order; like in his cut ending. He deserves way more screentime and integration into our journey.

Messmer I love, but he doesn't get to do anything? He's a boss, he's the firstborn, and he unleashed his mother's fury on the hornsent. And you kill him and that's that. How does he feel about his siblings? He interacted with Miquella, because how else does Miquella get to Enir-Ilim? He needs Messmer to give him access. Why did they cut that dialouge. I assumed Miquella told him about the shattering. How does Messmer feel about his mother's choice? Her imprisonment? How does he feel about Radahn, clearly positive since he lets all that shit happen. But Messmer deserved more and to say more words

Romina not getting any dialouge in the final cut is bad enough. But no cutscene?? She's clearly very important and she doesn't give us anything. It's so annoying, she is the boss that stands between us and the sealing tree and she's treatrd like fodder and not someone who is clearly VERY important to the story and likely Malenia.

I love St. Trina but it felt like she was forgotten, her lines were so interesting but her quest doesn't progress anything? She talks to us and gives us her view on what Miquella's doing which is great but god I think she deserved more

I've put a shit ton of time into DLCs for DS1, DS3 & BB and I will die on the hill that they were all done better than SoTE. It felt like they wanted to be vague for the sake of being vague to the point of it being less of a mystery to solve and more of a "oh, okay. Guess that's that." If this is meant to be the final content drop for ER (I hope not) then I really don't know what it was meant to achieve. I suppose it did educate us on Marika and the GW and then that's it.

I've seen a lot of takes that we should accept the story they gave us and it's entitled to want something different, but I feel if you're someone, like myself, who puts hours and hours of time into these games and you're used to really good stories and lore being told only for the next big dlc to basically fumble that for our epic Radahn moment is not great. And I am within my right to criticise that, as is anyone else. And if you're a massive fan of the story good for you, I'm not telling you you're wrong. This is MY opinion.

Also we should've had a Messmer consort ending ;)

#elden ring #miquella the unalloyed #shadow of the erdtree #miquella #miquella deserves better #messmer the impaler #romina saint of the bud #this dlc should have been better #it got gutted and we can tell #let us marry messmer #i hope we get more and better elden ring content

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watchyourbuck · 10 months

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Hi there! :)

For the writing prompts:

“W-who did this to you?”

Buck shouldn’t have shown up at Eddie’s door like this. Not today, not like this. But he has nowhere else to go.

His hand trembles before reaching forward, knocking once, maybe twice. It definitely slides down the wood after, and he has to support himself on the concrete wall to avoid hitting the floor.

Behind it, he can hear Eddie’s steps. He’s talking to someone on the phone, but it seems shallow. He thinks he’s about to hang up.

“Eddie-,” he tries to call, but his voice is faint and undetermined.

Please.

Please open the door.

Then it opens.

The scene in front of him is out of a horror movie. “Buck?” Eddie says, eyes wide, heart in his throat. His phone hits the tiles, a click ringing in his ear.

The man is showered in red. Blood that he can only assume is his going down his body and staining his clothes. He blinks. His lip is busted. Oh, dear god. His knuckles are- his wrist is broken.

“Help,” Buck says, and this is the day Eddie thanks his military training, because he’s able to catch Buck in his arms before he passes out.

It’s possibly hours later that he wakes up. He’s laying down on something, either a couch or a bed, and his head is heavy with pain. He tries lifting his arms but something is pinning him down. “E-Eddie,” he calls, unaware the subject of his need is sitting right in front of him.

“Who was it?”

His eyes adjust at the speed of slugs, and he has to force himself to sit up. He blinks until the world makes sense. “Eddie?”

There’s tears. Salty, whimsy, slow tears going down Eddie’s face, but he’s never looked less sad. Buck gulps. Eddie’s angry.

“Who did this to you?” he asks, breathing heavily. He’s sitting on a chair, legs spread and elbows on his knees. He’s covering his mouth with his fists, observing down Buck’s body.

He hesitates. “Eddie-,”

“Buck, for the love of god, who did this to you?”

This is his fault. After everything Eddie said, after all the things he warned him about. This is his fault.

He tries to move his wrists. One’s broken for sure, the other feels… twisted. He sighs, wondering if maybe he’s in less pain now that his receptors are going wild, focusing on too many alarms at once. “I-,” he starts, cutting himself off.

Eddie wastes no time. He rises from the chair and sinks back down, kneeling in front of Buck and grabbing his face with both hands.

Buck realizes he doesn’t know how to treat him now that he’s so incredibly… unglued.

“Tell me,” he pleads, but it’s an order. He knows him too well. This is the last lock before he unleashes a monster he hasn’t seen in years. “Tell me before I find out myself.”

Buck breathes, glancing down at Eddie’s lips. It’s only a moment he allows himself glory before spilling his guts with truth.

This is his fault.

“I told my dad about you.”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Consider this my Wip Wednesday!

I’m very tempted to write a second part to this where Eddie confronts the Buckley parents. What does the crowd think? I’ll read u!!💗

tagged by @jamespearce9-1-1 @daffi-990 @hippolotamus @malewifediaz @wildlife4life @eddiebabygirldiaz @callmenewbie @jeeyuns & @thewolvesof1998 (haven’t been able to get to some of your works yet! but I will tonight, thank you!!💗✨)

also tagging @spagheddiediaz @housewifebuck @lover-of-mine @fortheloveofbuddie @evanbegins @smilingbuckley @giddyupbuck @cowboydiazes @try-set-me-on-fire @your-catfish-friend @honestlydarkprincess @honestlyeddie @disasterbuckdiaz @buckleyobsessed @mattsire @loserdiaz @wikiangela 🤍

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thedevilspearl · 1 year

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Ooh! If you’re still doing the kink game, who is most likely to have a hypnosis/mind control kink? Who would control and who would want to be controlled?

mind control/hypnosis

warnings: barbatos gets a little dark and hints of manipulation but nothing extreme. no kinkshaming! minors do not interact!

solomon would love to use you as his guinea pig, with your consent of course. he’s casted a number of spells on you. some of the outcomes were questionable and caused a lot of chaos but most of the time, his spells worked perfectly. he is a skilled sorcerer after all. but even as a sorcerer with all the power he has, there’s one thing he's never been granted and that is control.

so when you offer to test out the mind control spell for him, he is delighted! and it works wonderfully. both of you are so happy with the results that you try it a few more times and he can’t help but let his mind wonder when you’re under his control. he wonders if you would feel him touching you, if you would remember the words he confessed.

of course, he would never make a move on you while hypnotised until after you gave him permission to do so, but turning you into a mindless, malleable doll turns him on more than he’d like to admit.

barbatos on the other hand, is a little more sadistic with this kink. i always see barb as a dark and twisted man so forewarning, this may get a little dark. he’s a powerful demon, bound only by the prince himself. if he was a free demon, he could destroy the world if that was what pleased him.

but sadly, it isn’t often that he can express his inherent, demonic desire to dominate and destroy. i said he could destroy the world if he wanted to, but what if you were his world? what if you were the single, most perfect thing he has laid his eyes upon? the entirety of your existence becomes an obsession to him, and he wants nothing more than to destroy your mind.

he starts slow, secretly getting off when thinking about the small, sly comments that will eventually lead you astray. he leaves a trail of crumbs that will undoubtedly drag you to him. the web of forged niceties enraptures you to the point where you would do anything and everything if he asked it of you. and when he finally has you where you want him, he will unleash his full power. you’re under his control completely, hypnotised by his lies and sick smile.

lucifer was always riveted when you used your pact to order him, so using a spell or hypnosis to fully control his mind has his heart racing. his mind submitting and his cock hardening faster than ever before. sometimes he remembers every single thing you did to him, and made him do. other times, he won’t remember a thing and will wake up knowing nothing other than the fact that you used him to satisfy yourself in every way. he eventually sees the appeal in it and suggests that he be the one to control you this time. and he is oh–so–cruel.

he treats you like a pet, something that is meant to comfort him. he’ll be at his desk doing paperwork and you’ll be under the desk, slowly sucking on his cock for hours. every now and then, he’ll stroke your hair and your cheek, growing impossibly harder every time he looks into your mindless eyes. “you’re such a good pet for me. suck slowly, angel.” and oh god, sometimes he’ll flaunt you on his arm around the devildom while hypnotised. “act perfect now, my love. so many people are going to see you today.”

he loves seeing how perfect you are even when he isn’t telling you what to do. but what he loves even more is snapping his fingers and breaking the spell, causing you to wake up and realise how needy you are from all the things he made you do. but no worries, he can fix that right away.

#♡ pearl’s entertainment #obey me x reader #obey me #obey me solomon #obey me solomon x reader #obey me barbatos x reader #obey me barbatos #obey me lucifer smut #obey me lucifer #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me smut #obey me headcanons

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cutecurly-hair · 8 months

Text

Hearts Unleashed (Part 5)

Pairing: Nick Nelson x Black!fem!reader

Warning: Fluff, Smut, Body Shaming

Words: 5,738

The weekend flew by, and before I knew it, Monday had arrived with its usual speed. I found myself back in the same classroom, at the same place and time, but something felt a little different. Nick and I had been texting non-stop over the weekend. It was just casual conversation, nothing special, but for some reason, it made me inexplicably happy.

I noticed a bunch of curly black hair in front of me. Charlie and I hadn't talked since that day. I sent him a bunch of texts, but he didn't reply. I checked with Ellie and Tao, and they hadn't heard from him either. It wasn't just me he was avoiding; it seemed like he was avoiding everyone.

Interrupting my thoughts, Nick said, "This is Nellie," showing me a picture of his dog, and she was the cutest thing in the world.

"Oh, my god, she's so cute! I've always wanted to have a pet, but ever since our cat died when I was little, we just never got a new one," I said, a tinge of sadness in my voice.

Nick's brows furrowed in concern, a cute little habit that I couldn't help but notice when he was puzzled or concerned about something. "You know, maybe you should come round to my house and meet her. Plus, my mom has been bugging me to invite you over" he suggested. I couldn't contain the smile that spread across my face, I don't know if it was because of Nick's mom has been asking about me or Nick inviting me to his house.

"Are you free on Saturday?" he asked hopefully, his brown eyes searching mine.

"Yeah, I think so," I replied, feeling a flutter in my stomach.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ +

"Charlie! Charlie! Wait up!" I yelled across the bustling school hallway, dodging through students those rugby drills are finally proving some use.

Finally catching up to him, I took a moment to catch my breath. "What happened with you? I've been calling and texting you. I was even this close to coming to your house to make sure you were alive," I said, demonstrating the minuscule gap between my thumb and forefinger to prove my point.

Charlie turned to me, his face a mix of surprise and sheepishness. "Sorry, I've been dealing with some stuff, and I needed a bit of space. Didn't mean to worry you."

I crossed my arms, trying to hide my concern behind a facade of annoyance. "A simple 'I need space' text would have sufficed, you know."

He scratched his head, a nervous grin appearing on his face. "Yeah, I know. I'll keep you in the loop next time. Promise."

As we walked, the tension melted away, and our usual banter resumed. Charlie might not be telling me everything, but our friendship stayed solid, thankfully.

"Ugh, I've got a ton to catch you up on," I exclaimed, pulling him into a tight hug. His laughter filled the air. "Do I detect some juicy gossip?" he teased, a cheeky grin spreading across his face. Even though I haven't talked with him for a couple of days, I still couldn't help but miss him. I had every right to be mad, but I knew deep down Charlie was keeping something from me, but it was within his right to tell me when he is ready.

"Oh, you have no idea," I replied, joining in the laughter.

"You look fine, sweetheart," my mother remarked as she emerged from the archway. She must have noticed my tenth attempt at fixing my hair and the frustrated sigh that accompanied it. Admittedly, I may or may not have put on a little makeup. Sensing my mom's curious gaze, I decided to address it before she could.

"I'm going to a friend's house. I'll be back around 5," I informed her, trying to keep it casual.

"Are you heading over to Charlie's?"

I hesitated for a moment, then replied, "Um, no, his name is Nick," hoping my response would slip past without her catching the name. My mother, sensing something, walked over to me and handed me my coat and gloves, well aware of my tendency to get cold easily. I was honestly not made for cold weather.

"Is this a boy from school? You know how I feel about you going to somebody's house," she probed, hinting at her concerns. I knew I had to choose my words carefully to navigate this conversation if I wanted to be allowed to leave the house.

"He's my classmate in English. I want him to look over my paper that's due next week," I lied, maintaining a calm tone and hoping she wouldn't see through the deception.

"You've never needed help with your papers before. You're really good at writing," she remarked, clearly skeptical of my story.

"This paper is 50% of my grade. I have to do well on it," I asserted, emphasizing the importance of the assignment and knowing that grades were a language my mother understood well. Having dealt with her expectations back home, I knew I had to convince her to let me go.

She looked pleasantly surprised. "Yes, you're right. Grades are important. I'm surprised I didn't have to remind you," she smiled, genuinely pleased to see me showing concern for my academic performance. Seizing the moment, I quickly put on my coat and gloves, ready to head out the door.

"Come back in time for dinner!" she yelled as I walked away. I gave a quick nod to show I heard and hurried off before she could ask more questions.

My hands were practically freezing, despite the gloves doing a lousy job of keeping the cold out. I stubbornly kept them on, pulled my coat tighter, and power-walked down the street. The bone-chilling London winter seemed to pierce right through me, making me pick up the pace even more.

I stood there for a moment, torn between knocking and ringing the doorbell. My indecisiveness was playing its usual tricks on me. But before I could finally decide, the door swung open. There was Nick, giving me a gentle smile.

"Hey," he greeted. It was kinda unexpected to see him so chill and casual, a side of him I hadn't really seen beyond the school environment.

"Hey," I smiled back, deciding to ditch my gloves that weren't doing much to fight off the cold anyway.

Nick made a gesture towards a delightful chocolate and white mix Border Collie. "Uh... this is Nellie."

"Hey, Nellie. You're so adorable," Reaching down to pet the dog behind its ears. The warmth of Nellie's fur against my hand brought an unexpected comfort, making the chilly weather outside seem momentarily forgotten.

"Did you do something with your hair?" he asked, his eyes locked onto my puff ponytail that had consumed a good chunk of my morning. Lately, I'd been experimenting with new hairstyles, breaking away from my usual braids.

I immediately reached up to touch my hair, a hint of worry crossing my face. "Wait, is it bad?"

He shook his head without hesitation, offering a reassuring grin. "No, you look… it looks great." His compliment made me feel like the effort I put into styling my hair that morning was totally worth it.

"Okay, you better come in before Nellie thinks we're going for a walk," he said, his eyes lingering on mine for a moment longer than necessary.

"Okay"

Walking into his house, I couldn't help but notice how incredibly homey it was. The place just radiated coziness, making it clear that it wasn't just a house; it was a warm and welcoming home. Definitely nothing compared to mine, my house was just cold and empty still filled with boxes. I noticed a few portraits on the wall, nowhere really of his dad. Which I have nothing to brag since my parents have been divorce.

He led me upstairs to his bedroom, which I couldn't help but feel uneasy, like it was way to personal...like I shouldn't be here. But as soon as I saw his room it was very clean...? Definitely not what I was expecting.

Nick saw the look on my face "What? What's wrong?" he asked looking around confused. I couldn't help but chuckle, breaking a smile "It's so clean in here...it's weird," But overall, it suits him with the rugby poster littered all over the walls with a cute little light hanging over his bed. There it was again, that small hint of vanilla, smoke and a mix of musk but the musk was a lot stronger.

Dramatically, he placed his hand over his chest, gasping, "Are you seriously thinking that I am weird because I know how to clean,"

"I just never expected something like this," I said, gesturing to the room. Walking around, I noticed a few books on the shelf. "Especially for a rugby player. I mean, aren't you guys supposed to be dirty, by default?" I picked a book off the shelf, the title reading "Le Petit Prince (French Edition)."

A French Novel?

Sensing my curiosity, Nick blushed, swiftly taking the book from my hand and putting it back on the shelf. "My dad gifted it to me, but I barely read it," he admitted, a touch of embarrassment in his expression.

Sensenig that his dad was a sour subject I decided to drop it. Still observing his room, noticing the little trinkets of action figure and posters, until my eyes landing on the little snacks on the TV stand plus Mario Kart next to the Nintendo, excitement bubbled up within me as I took in the familiar sight.

"You have Mario Kart!" I exclaimed, my eyes lighting up at the sight of the game. Memories of playing it flooded back.

Nick's eyes beamed. "You like Mario Kart? Do you know how to play?" he asked, a playful smile on his face.

I nodded. "Me and my Dad used to play all the time when I was little. I still do, just never really picked it back up," I said, shrugging.

"Do you want to play?" he asked, holding the Nintendo playfully.

I smiled. "You don't even have to ask."

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ +

"Come on, Come on I'm in the lead! Can you just let me win" Nick yelled, he was particularly begging at the point.

"It doesn't matter cause you're not going to win," I smirked. He's literally the King of Rugby and practically wins at everything. This is one thing I'm really good at, so I am definitely not going to let him win.

"Can you let me win one time? You've won five or six games."

"I am literary going easy one you,"

"No!" he groaned at the screen when he saw my Princess Peach cross the finish line. I couldn't help but laugh at his reaction.

"You need more practice, Nick. Maybe I can give you some tips," I teased, reveling in the playful banter. It was one area where I knew I could outshine the rugby star.

He pouted, "I don't need tips. I just need a fair chance." The adorable pout he sported was enough to make anyone's heart melt.

"I think this is just Karma kicking you in the ass; you can't be good at everything," I said sarcastically, while grabbing a little popcorn.

He nodded in agreement, "No, you're exactly right. You're just good at everything," he admitted.

"No, I'm not," I chuckled. But there was something in the way he looked at me, and it's been happening a lot lately. I can't quite figure out why he has this knack for making me feel this way. It's as if a single glance from him is all it takes to turn me into a bundle of nerves.

"You are. You're a proper little nerd. And you don't even know it."

"I am not!" I protested, playfully nudging him.

"Let's see. You're good at video games. Literally all school subjects, but especially math's. Amazing at photography. Befriending dogs, and you are good a sports manager. Like I have never seen our gear so clean before-"

"Shut up!" I interrupted in a playful groan, feeling warm flush spread across my cheeks. Covering his mouth, while pushing him onto the bed. It seems this was the only way of shutting him up.

"You know it's true," he mumbled from beneath my hand, a blush coloring his cheeks. "Get off me. Seriously, get off," he added with a laugh, the room filled with our shared laughter.

The laughter quickly faded, leaving a lingering warmth between us. I don’t understand this feeling, I have never felt this way before. Our eyes were saying one thing, but our bodies were saying another. In that stillness, I became aware of the soft sound of snow falling outside.

"Oh, my god" I was star-stuck looking out the window.

His eyes followed mine, and as he turned to the window, a quiet gasp escaped his lips.

"It's snowing."

We just look at each other we didn't have to say anything, we jumped up from the bed, rushing down the stairs putting our coats on. The air was charged with anticipation, I was on the brink of witnessing snow for the very first time in my fifteen years. Nick handing me a hoodie in the process.

I shook my head refusing the offer, but he only shoved it back in my face,

"You were freezing when I first saw you this morning," he chuckled, a mischievous glint in his eyes. But he wasn't taking no for an answer.

I couldn't help but laugh, realizing he had a point. Gratefully accepting the hoodie, I slipped it on, feeling the warmth envelop me trying to ignore his overwhelming scent.

"It's a bit big," you said, glancing at the blue fabric draping down to my knees.

"It looks good on you," he said breathlessly, he was looking directly at me. Two compliments in one day, that was definitely something.

It was absolutely beautiful outside, the cold didn't bother me as much as before, it may or may not have something to do with the hoodie I was wearing.

Nick wasted no time sticking his tongue out to catch the tiny snowflakes. His cheeks had a rosy flush, and there was something about the way the light hit his hair, making it look a bit browner. He looked marvelous.

Caught staring, I locked eyes with him, and there was a fleeting smile on his face. Before I could fully process it, he playfully threw a whole snowball at me, leaving me in disbelief. I hurriedly made a makeshift snowball. It instantly became a snowball fight.

For a moment, just a moment everything seemed perfect, the way he laughed when Nellie was eating the snow. To when he brushed the snow off my hair. The way he took pictures of me when I made snow angles. When he laid beside me all I did was listen to him talk any and everything.

It was just perfect.

I couldn't shake the knot in my stomach, and suddenly, those stolen glances and shared moments held a new weight. When he looks at me, it's like he's seeing something beyond the surface. There's this intensity in his gaze, and I can't help but admire the way he looks at me. The way his eyes light up when he smiles, the little expressions that make him uniquely him. The realization hit me -

I have a crush on Nick Nelson

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ +

"Are you even listening to what I'm saying?" Ellie snapped her fingers in front of my face, trying to grab my attention. My eyes, however, were glued to the three little bubbles dancing across my screen, eagerly awaiting Nick's response.

Ellie couldn't resist taking a peek at my screen, and a knowing smirk crept onto her face as she shook her head. "Oh, I see what's got you all distracted now."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm listening," I mumbled, tearing my eyes away from the screen to meet Ellie's amused gaze.

She chuckled, leaning back in her chair. "Nick, huh? The mystery guy who's got you glued to your phone?"

Blushing, I tried to downplay it. "We're just chatting, you know, about random stuff."

"Random stuff, right," Ellie teased, wiggling her eyebrows. "I've seen that look before. You've got the 'crush glow' all over your face."

Rolling my eyes, I shrugged. "Oh, come on. It's not like that. We're just friends."

Eyebrow raised; Ellie smirked. "Friends who text 24/7, interesting definition of friendship."

I sighed, realizing she saw through my attempt at nonchalance. "Okay, fine. Maybe there's a tiny crush. But seriously, don't make it a big deal."

Glancing out the window, I spotted Nick chatting with a pretty girl that I always seen around school. They were standing so close, and her laughter reached my ears even through the closed window. My heart sank as I watched them share a moment. She was effortlessly charming and ever so pretty, and the way Nick's eyes lit up in response made my stomach churn. It felt like they were in their own bubble, leaving me on the outside looking in.

Ellie looked at me and she frowned and nudged me gently. "Y/N, what's going on? You look like you've just seen a ghost."

I forced a weak smile, attempting to mask the turmoil inside. "Oh, nothing. Just caught up in my thoughts, you know?"

But Ellie wasn't buying it. She followed my gaze, her eyes narrowing as she took in the scene outside. "Oh...that's Imogen. That's one of Nick's close friends,"

"Oh, really?" I tried to sound casual, but I could feel a knot forming in my stomach. "Just a friend, huh?"

Ellie shot me a knowing look, her eyebrows raised. "Y/N, are you getting jealous?"

"What? No!" I protested a bit too quickly, my cheeks heating up. "I mean, why would I be jealous? We're just friends, like I said."

Ellie chuckled, clearly amused by my reaction. "Sure, just friends. a friend who you have a crush on."

I rolled my eyes, attempting to change the subject. "Let's focus on something else. What were you saying before about our plans for the weekend?"

Ellie raised an eyebrow, clearly not letting me off the hook that easily. "Smooth transition, but we'll get back to this later. Anyway, I was thinking we could do a little movie night at Tao's. We can bring some snacks, binge-watch our favorite films, and just unwind."

"Yeah, that sounds great," I replied, trying to shake off the uneasy feeling. "Movies and snacks sound like the perfect distraction."

As we continued discussing our weekend plans, my mind kept drifting back to Nick and Imogen. I couldn't help but wonder if there was something more between them. Were they just friends, or was there a deeper connection? The uncertainty gnawed at me, and I found myself absentmindedly scrolling through our previous texts.

The guys were practicing for an upcoming match, and I was just here cleaning the Rugby they have already gotten so dirty after a couple of throws. Occasionally, Nick would glance over in my direction, offering a reassuring smile or a quick wave.

"I can't believe they have cleaning rugby balls. Doing the dirty work while we get all the glory?" Charlie teased, nudging me with his elbow.

I chuckled, playfully swatting at him. "Someone's got to keep these in top-notch condition. Can't have you all playing with muddy balls, can we?"

Charlie raised an eyebrow. "Speaking of action, I noticed I haven't been seeing you lately. Any particular reason?"

I hesitated for a moment, debating how much to reveal. Finally, I decided to open up to Charlie, knowing he'd always knows what to do. "Well, I've been meaning to talk to you about that. You know, get some 'guy advice.'"

"I think I am the worse person to give 'guy advice'. especially now" Charlie looked down the ground.

Noticing the sadness in his eyes, I joked around with him "Oh come on, Charlie, don't be so hard on yourself. You're my go-to guy for advice, whether you like it or not."

He managed a small grin, "Alright, shoot. What do you need from my services this time?"

I sighed, glancing back at Nick on the field, his focused demeanor contrasting with the playful banter of the other players. "It's just... things have been different lately. We've been hanging out more, texting, you know, normal friend stuff. But I can't help but feel there's something more."

Charlie looked worried as soon as I brought up Nick's name, "Of course this is about Nick Nelson,"

I nodded, "Yeah, it is. I mean, we're friends, but there are these moments, these looks, and it makes me wonder if there's something more. And then today- I don't know... it just hit me differently."

Charlie glanced around to ensure no one was eavesdropping before he spoke. "Look, I don't want to be the bearer of bad news, but there's something I think you should know."

My heart sank a little, and I furrowed my brows in concern. "What is it, Charlie? You're making me nervous."

He took a deep breath before continuing "Okay so Tao told me to tell you that-

"Wait why couldn't Tao just tell me himself?"

Charlie looked a little uneasy "Because Tao is Tao"

Great he still doesn't like me.

I shook my head, urging Charlie to continue. "Tell me what Tao said."

He took a deep breath before continuing, "Tao found out from a friend who is also friends with Nick, and he said that Nick is single. But he is super interested in this girl that was originally from the all-girls school."

I swallowed the lead in my throat "What girl,"

Charlie sighed looking out onto the field "Her name's Tara Jones,"

My heart sank as Charlie dropped the bomb about Nick's interest in Tara Jones. Her name replayed in my mind like an annoying song on repeat. I couldn't shake off the blame creeping in why did I let myself get attached? Was I just too naive, thinking there could be more between us?

Nick's wave from the field added salt to the wound. I managed a feeble smile and a wave back, but inside, it felt like a whirlwind of emotions. Watching him, I questioned every shared laugh and conversation we had. Were they all just leading up to this moment where he'd be drawn to someone else?

The game raged on in the background, but my world stood still in that painful moment of realization. The cheers from the crowd turned into distant echoes, drowned out by the pounding of my heart, echoing the rhythm of disappointment.

How can I be so stupid.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ +

She was so beautiful, and I could see why Nick might be into her. Browsing through her social media, her confidence and elegance just stood out. It's something I feel like I lack. Her dark skin had this warm, rich tone that glowed in every photo. The more I looked, the more I found myself comparing. It made me question if I could ever match up to someone like her in Nick's eyes. The more I scrolled, the more I felt like an outsider peeking into a world that seemed so different from mine.

"See, I told you," Tao said, peering over my shoulder. Charlie shot him an annoyed look.

"Tao, come on, give it a rest. This doesn't necessarily mean anything," Charlie snapped.

"Like hell it doesn't," Tao retorted. I deeply sighed; their bickering wasn't making the situation any better. Isaac looked at me with a hint of concern.

"We don't even know if she actually likes Nick back," Isaac chimed in, attempting to offer some comfort.

Charlie scoffed, "I'm the one stuck seeing them in class every day, and trust me, it's nauseating. Believe me, he's into you," he added, shooting me a look.

Tao, fixing his gaze on Isaac, cautioned, "I've warned you about fueling romantic fantasies that just won't happen. Life isn't a romance novel, you know." ignoring Charlie reassurance.

"But I want to believe in romance." Isaac wined still looking hopeful. Our heads turned to the door when Ellie came in, Isaac immediately jumped at the chance "Ellie! So, there's this girl at school who Nick's got a crush on?"

"We've heard from multiple sources" Tao cut in, but Isaac completed ignored him "We don't know if they're a thing. Can you talk to her? Since she is in your year"

Isaac's hopeful gaze shifted to Ellie, who raised an eyebrow at his enthusiasm. "Whoa, slow down. First, spill the tea. Who's this mystery girl Nick's into?" Ellie said, playing dumb while glancing at me to check if it was Imogen we were talking about. I just quietly shook my head no

Tao chimed in, "Her name's Tara Jones. She was originally from the all-girls school."

Ellie crossed her arms, processing the information definitely wasn't expecting that. "Tara Jones? She's a sweetheart, I don't know Tara that well. I can just go up to her and ask who she fancies. And I'm, too busy being the cool, mysterious new girl, who everyone wants to hang out with."

Isaac quickly jumped back into the conversation, seizing the opportunity. "We just want to know if there's something going on between her and Nick. You know, for Y/N's peace of mind."

"I'm fine. It's honestly fine. I'm just being an idiot and overthinking things," This whole thing has been stressing me out, more than I realize. It's probably best if I cut my losses now before I get more attached.

Ellie gave me a sympathetic glance rolling her eyes while she sighed "Well, I can try to find out, but no promises, only if I get a chance I'll ask her,"

I flashed her a thankful smile, and Isaac promptly leaped into Ellie's arms. Sometimes, I forget how much of a hopeless romantic he is. Charlie joined in, gesturing for me to join them. Gratefully, I embraced the warmth of the hug. I realized I wouldn't know where I'd be without them.

Tao sat there, glaring, watching the scene.

The next school day rolled around, and I made a quick stop at the boys' locker room to check on inventory, making sure to steer clear of any awkward encounters, especially with Nick Nelson. Luckily, I managed to avoid any unexpected run-ins. However, as I strolled to my next class, it hit me that I'd be sharing a class with him soon. The knot in my stomach tightened, and a sense of unease settled in, a reminder of the events from the day before.

Waving at Charlie as I eased into my seat, a jumble of nerves hit me hard. Concentrating seemed like an impossible task, with my thoughts entirely hijacked by the looming encounter with Nick. What in the world was I even going to say to him, if I mustered the courage to say anything at all? The classroom blurred as my mind grappled with racing thoughts.

"Y/N?" he said, staring right at me with worried eyes.

Finally returning back to earth, I mumbled, "What?"

"You just spaced out," he observed.

Not knowing what to say, I managed a simple "Oh," fiddling with my blue pen, which oddly seemed to help with my nerves. Nick, sensing the habit, scooted closer to me. I swear I could feel his body warmth.

"What's up?" he said, looking directly at me. "I can tell when something's on your mind," he added in a hush, leaning even more closely.

Gosh, I hate the way he makes me feel. The way I act around him is ridiculous. I hate that every time he gets close, my heart races, every touch, every feeling. I hate all of it!

Why does he make me feel this way?

"Do you...Do you want to come to my house later?" I blurted out, causing for Charlie to peek over at me with panic eyes screaming What the hell are you doing!

He looked surprised, but all he can do is smile.

Mom is not going to be here until super late, so I can have the house all to myself. I cleaned from top to bottom of house, throwing all the boxes away and tightening up everything was squared away.

Hearing a knock at the door, it was him standing at my door smiling from ear to ear.

"Hey"

Opening the door for him, "Hey,"

"So, how does this work?" he asked hesitantly, glancing around the room as if unsure of what to capture with my old Canon. The way he held the camera was so awkward, it brought a smile to my face.

Figuring it was a fair trade after all the rugby lessons, I decided to teach Nick a thing or two about photography.

"You can take a picture of anything you like, really. It could be something beautiful, something that grabs your attention, or simply anything that intrigues you," I explained, observing him furrow his brows while peering through the viewfinder.

"Anything?" he asked, seeking confirmation.

I nodded, a spark of enthusiasm lighting up my eyes. "Exactly! That's the beauty of it. Photography allows you to freeze a moment in time, to capture something you love, like, or find amusing. It's incredible how a single image can encapsulate so much emotion, tell a story, or even memories."

Nick listened attentively, his curiosity evident. I continued, "You see, every photo has a story behind it. It's a way of preserving feelings, experiences, and moments that might otherwise fade away. You get to share your perspective with others through the lens, allowing them to see the world through your eyes."

As I spoke, I could see Nick growing more intrigued, absorbing the idea of photography beyond just pressing a button. "Give it a try," I encouraged, "Capture something that stands out to you, something you'd want to remember."

Right as I looked back at Nick, I noticed that fuck, he was looking directly at me. His eyes looked into mine and there it was again, that knot in my stomach. I didn't know what to do, I had completely froze. His eyes seemed different though-

Feeling a buzz in my pocket, I checked my phone. It was a message from my mom, letting me know she wouldn't be home until midnight and that there was lasagna in the fridge. A sigh of relief escaped my lips, knowing I wouldn't have to explain having a boy in my room when she returned.

Hearing a click, I turned to Nick, curious about what had caught his attention through the lens of my camera. "What did you take a picture of?" I asked.

"Just something that I thought was beautiful," Nick replied with a soft smile, his eyes lingering on mine. Raising my eyebrows confused but also curious. He didn't say anything at all, other than putting the camera down.

"Want to watch a movie?" he suggested,

"Already one step ahead of you," I grinned, pulling out one of my favorite Marvel movies.

We settled into the living room couch, time passes by, and my eyelids begin to grow heavy. Waking up to see the credits rolling I quickly sat up. I completely sleep through the whole entire movie.

Looking out the window, it was dark outside, looking at Nick he seemed to be tensed.

"I feel asleep, didn't I?" I chuckled.

Nick's lips curved into a gentle smile, "Yeah, you did. Must have been a comfortable couch."

I stretched my arms, attempting to shake off the drowsiness. "Sorry about that. I guess I needed the nap."

Nick shrugged, "No problem. You looked peaceful."

We sat quietly, the feel of the movie night still in the air. Even with the unexpected nap, the evening felt calm.

"I should probably head home," Nick said, glancing at the time. "It's getting late."

As he stood up, I walked him to the door. Opening it without caring about the cold air seeping in, the night possessed a certain calmness, and the air held a subtle tension, like the moment before something shifts.

"Thanks for inviting me over," Nick said, and for a moment, our eyes met in a way that spoke volumes, yet said nothing at all.

"I wish that you didn't have to go," I admitted, feeling the weight of the night settling in.

"I wish I didn't either," Nick confessed, a hint of reluctance in his voice.

"You look so cuddly like that," he added, his gaze lingering on my knitted sweater.

My eyes softened, and a playful grin tugged at the corners of my lips. "You think so?"

He nodded, smiling back at me. "Yeah, like a giant teddy bear."

I chuckled, feeling a warmth spreading through me that had nothing to do with the sweater. "Well, I guess I'll take that as a compliment."

Nick's cheeks turned a shade of pink, and he scratched the back of his head, a sheepish grin on his face "It's meant to be one," he replied, and we stood there for a moment, the unspoken words hanging in the air.

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. "Well, if I didn't have early morning practice, I might consider staying longer."

I felt a subtle warmth spreading through me. The casual banter, the shared laughter it all felt so easy and right. Yet, there was an unspoken tension, a magnetic pull that lingered between us.

"I guess I'll see you around," Nick said, but he didn't make a move to the open door; it looked like he wanted to say something else he just couldn't find the words.

As he stepped closer, the air between us seemed to shift, and before I knew it, he pulled me into a gentle hug.

Vanilla. Smoke. and Musk

I slowly wrapped my arms around, wanting to not let go, but he quickly pulled away, backing towards the door.

"Um… catch you on Monday," he mumbled, clearing his throat, his gaze fixed anywhere but on me. He melted into the night, leaving me standing there, gaping at the door, with a whirlwind of thoughts spinning through my mind.

Charlie casually peeked around the side of the door, and from the look on his face, it was clear he caught the whole thing.

"Still questioning if he's into you?" Charlie asked, shooting me a knowing look.

Part 6 Link Here: https://www.tumblr.com/cutecurly-hair/759302465187414016/hearts-unleashed-part-6

#nick nelson x y/n #nick nelson x reader #nick nelson x fem!reader #nick nelson x blackreader #nick nelson fanfic #kit connor #heartstopper #charlie spring #black!fem!reader #black reader #heartstopper netflix #heartstopper fandom #heartstopper fanfic

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silvantransthranduiltrash · 6 months

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Entirely mu AU and self indulgent:

Noldo elf: so how did the silvans and avari stay out of the war with morgoth.

Legolas: hm? Oh, we brokered a truce.

Noldo: so? We did too, that didn’t stop him.

Legolas: yeah, but, unlike you, we actually had ✨power✨ backing us up that forced him to back off untill further notice.

Legolas: also, our diplomats made it very clear that if he didn’t comply, he would not like the outcome. Very agressive, 10/10.

Noldo: ok, well, how did it go, because Maedhros didn’t even get to morgoth, he was ambushed.

Legolas: weeelllll-

*flashback to beginning of the first age*

The silvan ambassadors *shows up at morgoth’s throne room without notice* we’re here make sure you don’t do something stupid like declare war on our people.

Morgoth, amused: oh, and how are you going to do that? For that matter, what’s stopping me from killing you here and now.

Ambassadors: what’s stopping you is the fact that, if we do not come back within the next hour to where we have to check in, the silvans will assume that you killed us and thus has made a declerarion of war. If it is assumed you have declaired war on the silvans, the long standing alliance between all the avari and silvan nations, pertaining to the terrorism and violance commited by a member of the ainur, will go into affect, and all our international grievances will be put on hold untill we’ve dealt with you-

Morgoth:

Ambassadors: to put this into context: not only will you have attracted the attention and wrath of the silvans, elves who are masters of espionage and assassination and magically above average and a people who’s known for their warrior culture which has amassed over a total of 4000 years with a fully stocked and experienced army, but you will also have the might of the Arctic Empire, who’s succesfully taken over the world, the Okrean kingdom, who’s become completely independent from all things magic, the Agtep Nation, ruled by an elleth known as the God of War, the Bali’tsa Empire, home to the largest army of all the avari nations, the Qitian Empire, who produce some of the deadliest weapons known to this realm, and the Fawneli Tribes, who have the strongest elves in existence, bearing down on you like a rabid dog. And unlike the Noldo and the Sinda you so love to bully, each one of these Nations have a full 4000 years of military history that they will not hesitate to unleash on you like a dam that finally broke. Mind you, that’s before we even take into considerarion the many other smaller elven societies who won’t hesitate to join the slaughter, hell, even the Edireths have thrown their hat in the ring, and they’re particularly known for eating ainur for breakfast. Literally.

Ambassadors: so what will it be? Time is ticking, and you’re almost out.

Morgoth: fuckin- fine. But i won’t lay off forever.

Ambassadors: oh we know. And we’ll be preparing our armies for when that time comes. I suggest you do the same.

*back in the present*

Legolas: yeah, let’s just say they really went in there with a “fuck all” attitude.

#my au #not cannon #hc that the silvan ambassador was Thranduil #listen if the noldo and the sinda could go apeshit in the first age; then so could the silvans/avari #lord of the rings #lotr #lotr elves #the hobbit #silmarillion #silvans #avari #morgoth #4 silvan sibs au #house of edireth #morgoth did not fuck around and find out #incorrect tolkien quotes #legolas

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shitpostdevil · 5 months

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Am I Allowed to Cry?

(((SatoSugu one shot)))

Drowning in the Blue Nile

He sent me "Downtown Lights"

I hadn't heard it in a while

My boredom's bone-deep

This cage was once just fine

Am I allowed to cry?

‘Why didn’t you chase him?’

The words echo in my mind,

haunting me as I stare

at the bare wall of my dorm room

where photos used to stay.

It was my responsibility as a jujutsu sorcerer

to stop exactly what Suguru caused.

His smile was so soft.

He knew I wasn’t going to understand

and he didn’t even try to convince me.

He was always like that this last summer.

Something in him changed after Amanai died.

I’m pretty sure he had thought I was dead too

from the look on his face

when I walked into that room holding her corpse.

I knew I had changed.

Being on the brink of death will do that to a person.

I grip my bedsheets,

gritting my teeth at the tears

that burned their way out of my eyes

against my protest.

All I remember after that is screaming

until I heard Shoko’s voice.

“Give him space,

get out of here!

Gojo, hey, Gojo-”

I dream of cracking locks

Throwing my life to the wolves or the ocean rocks

Crashing into him tonight, he's a paradox

I'm seeing visions, am I bad?

Or mad? Or wise?

Do we still talk?

It would be unwise to indulge the answer to that.

How they haven’t found me out yet?

I have no idea.

They must trust their golden boy enough

to not assume that he would be

in the bed of a criminal after long missions,

dressing my wounds,

always stretching out the time.

He explained himself.

Adopted two little girls-

I can’t blame him for doing what he did,

but I would never say that out loud.

This world is… horrible.

We know that better than anyone I suppose.

What if he's written "mine" on my upper thigh only in my mind?

One slip and falling back into the hedge maze

Oh, what a way to die

I keep recalling things we never did

Messy top lip kiss, how I long for our trysts

Without ever touching his skin

How can I be guilty as sin?

Staring at my phone screen,

my scrolling through pointless pictures

paused by his text;

When are you coming over next?

Simple, but he always did get straight to the point.

My finger absent-mindedly twirls

around the black cat phone charm that he got for me-

something I had claimed I’d won in a random gacha pull,

but I knew the truth and that’s all that mattered.

Part of me needed him with me,

even if I couldn’t admit it.

I want to drop everything and run to him

every

damn

time.

Soon. I text back,

locking my phone and letting my arm drop,

painted fingertips grazing over sheets

he will never see again.

I keep these longings locked

In lowercase, inside a vault

Someone told me there's no such thing as bad thoughts

Only your actions talk

“How long are you going to do this, Gojo?”

Shoko quizzes me,

her face holds a touch of disapproval

but not disappointment.

I just look at her.

Does she really expect me to give an answer for that?

Until the day I die.

I want to say.

Want to scream.

I can’t even give an actual answer

because all that would give is

confirmation that I still see the ‘traitor’.

She knows.

She has to.

She… saw how badly it broke me-

feelings I never want to unleash again.

“What are you talking about?”

I finally ask,

eyes begging her to drop it through sunglasses.

She just pulls out her cigarette box silently,

flipping the top open

and holding it in my direction, offering.

I take one.

These fatal fantasies giving way to labored breath

Taking all of me, we've already done it in my head

If it's make-believe

Why does it feel like a vow we'll both uphold somehow?

“S-Satoru~”

His liquor soaked breath stutters in the dark

as I work my art on him,

messy kisses to the insides of his thighs,

leaving marks that will only be known to us.

His hands are tangled in my hair loosely,

tightening every moment he feels good.

He refuses to be quiet,

but I couldn’t complain.

“A God amongst men,

and you’re begging for me.”

I state breathlessly,

smirking up at him.

He just hums in pure amusement.

“You always were so cocky~”

he chides,

hips bucking when my lips find his leaking head.

“You were saying?” I ask.

“Mm-mmm~” he says as he pushes my mouth onto his cock.

I can’t help but give him what he wants.

What if he's written "mine" on my upper thigh only in my mind?

One slip and falling back into the hedge maze

Oh, what a way to die

My bedsheets are ablaze, I've screamed his name

Building up like waves crashing over my grave

Without ever touching his skin

How can I be guilty as sin?

Shoko notices the hickey I tried my hardest to cover

almost immediately.

Deny.

“The girl I was with wasn’t really as careful as I asked her to be.”

I bluffed, laughing.

Her eyes questioned deeper,

but not her voice.

What if I roll the stone away?

They're gonna crucify me anyway

What if the way you hold me is actually what's holy?

If long-suffering propriety is what they want from me

They don't know how you've haunted me so stunningly

I choose you and me religiously

“You know this can’t last forever Satoru.” He says.

I clench my jaw.

Of course I know that.

Why did he feel the need to bring this up again?

His hands are so gently painting my fingernails black.

It was his way of being intimate without having to admit it.

I secretly loved having any trace of him on me that I could get.

I don’t want to respond to him,

I just want to stay here,

at this moment.

Forever.

I never wanted him to stop holding my hands so preciously.

What if he's written "mine" on my upper thigh only in my mind?

One slip and falling back into the hedge maze

Oh, what a way to die

I keep recalling things we never did

Messy top lip kiss, how I long for our trysts

Without ever touching his skin

How can I be guilty as sin?

“At least curse at me a little at the very end.”

His smile is still so soft even with blood everywhere.

I just fall to my knees,

eyes filled with traumas no one should have to see.

“If I had noticed…

If I saw how badly it destroyed you…

would it have changed anything?”

I’m speaking before I can think it through.

“Perhaps…” He coughs, breathing sharp,

“But then again… probably not.”

The tears are falling before I can stop them.

“I’m so sorry.”

I can't get my voice above a whisper.

“It’s not your fault, my one and only.”

My one and only…

He sent me "Downtown Lights"

I hadn't heard it in a while

“Satoru.”

The voice of a ghost speaks from behind me and I falter,

if only for a moment.

Suguru…?

I turn.

I’m trapped again,

but this time it’s real.

Is it really so bad to die if it’s at his hands?

Horror written all over my face-

that’s his body, but that isn’t him.

Am I allowed to cry?

My soul knows otherwise…

#~#satosugu #fanfiction #JJK SPOILERS #JUJUTSU KAISEN SPOILERS #am I allowed to cry?#geto #geto suguru #suguru geto #gojo #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #found art on pinterest! if you want credit or want it removed please alert me!!!#I made the banner at the bottom #im so sick guys i fuckin forgot some of the formatting and the 18+ warning 😵‍💫

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naughtybg3confessions · 4 months

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I'm finally doing a Shadowheart romance run, and oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my GOD, she's so cute. I've always really liked her and thought she was adorable, but now??? I'm like... seeing a teasing, playful, but also incredibly sweet angle of her that I've not seen in previous runs. She's like both the cutest, sweetest, most affectionate girl in the world, AND a bit of a little shit, and I just. Guys, I've fallen. I've fallen BAD.

I want her and my Tav to have sweet, giggly, tender, missionary-with-the-lights-off sex that neither of them has had before, and I also want her to unleash her mean streak on him, keep dangling exactly what he wants in front of his nose only to snatch it away over and over again, and be his playful, wicked, gentle torturess. I want her to bind his hands, sit on his lap, not let him touch her or move (and stop every time he would), and ride him torturously slow until he's damn near begging and sobbing with need for her.

He may not have known he had a kink for it until now, but the moment she whispers "good boy; now come" in his ear, that man IS going to come with the force of a tidal wave, and he won't even mind if she teases him about it. (It'll take a moment for his ego to return, and when it does, oh, she's going DOWN. Figuratively, because it's actually him going down, under the guise of "helping clean her up" of his own spend, but he's not coming back up until she's come on his tongue at least twice.)

#dirty confessions #shadowheart

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targayrenss · 1 year

Text

Green Skin (II) -Daemon Targaryen

pairing:Daemon Targaryen × Targaryen Oc

Content:Incest, Age-Gap,Angst

•••

Rhaenyra was leaving King's Landing, Alys hadn't stopped crying since she heard the news.

Rhaenyra and her children were her only company lately, Aegon was busy drinking all day, Helaena was obsessed with a new bug in her collection and didn't leave her chambers, Aemond is always studying, and Daren isn't even on landing! King !.

"Why does mother have to go? I don't want Nyra to leave.

Alicent braided her daughter's hair while he comforted her.

—rhaenyra decided, your father and I can't do anything, my love

for a moment only sobs were heard until they faded away.

Do you think I'll be a good mother?

The question took Alice by surprise.

"Why do you ask that, Alyss?"

—I don't know, I think that being a mother is something horribly beautiful, I would like to have many children, it would be nice to braid many hairs

oh poor alys, if she only knew—yeah, that would be nice.

The news of the death of laena velaryon, and the fire where harwin strong nearly died came at the same time.

alys never got the chance to meet laena, but hearing that the poor woman died because she couldn't bring her baby into her world made him want to die with her.

She couldn't stop thinking about how horrible her death was, having to ask your dragon to burn you because the son you expected so much will never come out of you.

poor vhagar, alys vowed never to do such a thing to her dragon, abraxas.

Dressed in a dress similar to her mother's, she was standing next to her father, she knew that even having her next to her he would never pay attention to her.

At the end of the ceremony, she decided to look for rhaenyra.

"Nyra! I'm sorry for your loss and that of your uncle." The sisters hugged each other.

"Thank you, sweet child." Rhaenyra eyed the dress her half-sister was wearing with disgust.

"Could you help me look for Luke? I can't find him." Alys nodded and went looking for her nephew.

It was getting dark and she still hadn't found Luke, when she got to the beach she could see a figure dressed completely in black, with short silver hair, her uncle, her daemon.

"Uncle! I should go back to the castle, it's almost night." The man turned to see her and smiled.

"Alysanne, right?" the redhead nodded.

—I'm very sorry for your loss uncle, I hope the gods take care of laena

Daemon shifted his gaze to the young woman's chest, a star necklace at her neckline.

"Do you want to walk with me, niece?"

Alysanne wanted to refuse, she had to go back to the castle but the look that her uncle gave her made her accept.

Alys didn't know when, how, or why, but she had her uncle on top of her, inside of her.

listening to how her uncle moaned her name, alys had never heard a man moan, she thought that wonderful noise was a gift from the gods.

Daemon kissed her with such passion, he caressed her hair lovingly.

"I'll take you away, I'll make you my wife and you'll have my children." Her words moved her but at the same time scared her.

What would her mother think? She has just lost her maiden to her father's brother, a man who has two daughters close to her age.

when they were getting dressed a gentleman came looking for them.

Alys ran in looking for her younger brother with daemon trailing behind her.

“Aemond!” Alys knelt down to her level, “who did this to you?

Her screams were unleashed once more, Alys felt someone grab her tightly by her wrist.

"Where were you? Your brother lost an eye and you weren't here!" Alicent's voice was heard throughout the room, causing everyone to look at the princess and then at the rogue prince.

I couldn't sleep so I went for a walk on the beach.

Apparently Rhaenyra had given the same excuse when she entered with Sir Harwin Strong.

When Alicent lunged at Rhaenyra with a dagger in her hand, Daemon saw the perfect opportunity and took Alys by the hand, they ran off.

Running away from everything, from everyone.

#Daemon targaryen x oc #daemon targaryen x targaryen oc #Daemon targaryen x reader #targaryen oc #hotd fanfic #house of the dragon

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ackerfics · 1 year

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i carry your heart with me (i carry it with my heart): gojo satoru

— i fear no fate (for you are my fate, my sweet)

gojo satoru x reader

notes: first time writing for jjk and it's for our pretty boy !! based on that one b-99 scene between jake and amy

being on the same year level with gojo satoru means having to put up with the spontaneity of his man-child tendencies. while it is true that he is the pinnacle of the entirety of the jujutsu society from his first wail to the world --- a god amongst mortals; tipping the equilibrium with his very existence, there are moments embroidered in between his rambunctious nature that makes him almost human. key word being almost. such as betting on the most random missions to prove a point like regular teenagers.

"am i going to regret this bet, suguru?" you ask the person yaga assigned to be your pair in capturing the rest of the 2nd-grade curses loitering around the area, with the possibility of a 1st-grade intermingling with them, which puts the entire chase into a total of nine curses. you two are in one of the more desolated areas of tokyo, having split up from the usual group of four your school boasted since the start of first year.

before starting the circle of exorcism your group is about to unleash on these curses, satoru used this opportunity to dangle a proposition between you two, a tradition before embarking on a mission.

it goes this way this time: if he exorcised more curses than you, you're going to do anything he wants (nothing sexual, but judging from the grin on his face, you nearly shivered). he emphasized his words with those black sunglasses of his reflecting your astounded face. you instantly felt the world cave, because your life is on the line. why would you ever date such a person who has no regard to safety and is always known to be obnoxious to the point that you wished you were never a jujutsu sorcerer in the first place? however, if you win this round (which you never won since the first time you two started this whole charade), he's going to be a bit more honest with you. for other people, your condition is as simple as letting impulsivity carry on their choices; but for satoru, it's a moment of weakness. you were left stunned when you saw the tiniest budge of hesitation flicker on his face, almost as if he knew what you meant in your conditions, but just as quickly as you saw it, it vanished. so, he wears false confidence like a second skin and accepts the bet with a handshake, partnering up with shoko instead of suguru. he said something along the lines that you need all the help you can get and that because he's so good, he's going to give suguru to you to at least even out the two parties. what an asshole. he doesn't even give you a chance to utter a rebuttal because he vanished in thin air with shoko waving and pumping her fist at you.

"well," suguru draws out the word.

you throw him a look. "oh, come on, i know that tone --- i'm going to lose my monthly allowance, right? i know he's going to ask me to buy anything sweet he can find on our next mission."

suguru hums with that smile of his, never dimming, never fading, and always warm to the touch. he takes out one hand from his pocket and pats you on the crown of your head. "i'm with you on this one."

you look up at him. "what?"

"i want to see satoru stop all this dancing around he's been doing with you. i mean, the rest of us are even confused if he really does hold feelings for you or not. i think it will do him some good for once in his life."

you look down on the gravel, your hair doing its job covering your features.

ever since you introduced yourself to the other first years in the tokyo branch of jujutsu high, satoru has always sparked this inexplicable interest surrounding you. you like to think it's because of your upbringing, being from one of the more noble jujutsu families who bears the technique of forming contracts with curses, very much like how suguru goes about his technique. the difference between you and suguru lies in the fact that most of the curses your family has made a contract with are special grade, embodiments of the japanese folklore rather than the regular blobs and flies; and that everything is consensual between the sorcerer and the curse. so, stepping inside the room housing three other teenagers like yourself, the flare of your cursed energy captures their attention, one of which possessing the legendary six eyes, having sparkled like no other the moment he placed them on your figure. this rather random fascination of you he had since day one morphed into something that of courting, as yaga once called it (quite so done with it actually), since the boy started calling all the most absurd adjectives and phrases and attached them to your name. beautiful, pretty, heavenly, utterly graceful, stealer of my heart, owner of my attention ... darling, honey, kikufuku, mochi ... anything exhausting really. everything was so abrupt and out-of-the-blue that you had no time dwelling on when this all started.

you now want it to stop.

it doesn't do well because it's blurring all the lines you've drawn between you and your classmates. you don't even have the time to think about the number of times a passerby remarks how wonderful of a couple you two look (any elderly people really) and gojo would boast that yes, my girlfriend is so beautiful and i am lucky enough to have her, ma'am; we started dating last year; it was love at first sight --- you just want to punch him.

then comes the unexpected, lingering touches he brushes against your skin; a pinky finger intertwined with yours, his hand lightly hovering at the small of your back, his knuckles caressing your face and remarking how you look nice for the day, an invading hand tucking a stray bundle of hair behind your ear, nearing his face so that you can whisper something to his ear without any difficulty, and anything that sets your heart ablaze. not to mention he looks at you with something indescribable; eyes reflecting you and only you and sunglasses sliding from the bridge of his nose. it's all softness, no rough edges like how he is with suguru or shoko, and he treats you as such. he once mentioned you are his haven, the only person he doesn't mind turning his infinity off for and the only person to touch him without having the need to let him know.

"i think it won't be good for him if he tells you how he really feel," suguru's voice takes you away from contemplation. "at most, you would benefit from it as well." you turn to him and he wraps an arm around you for good measure. "i want my friends to find solace in our bleak part of the world. and hey, if you two do get together, i will be so proud!"

"yeah, right."

"i would!"

your two groups are tied.

the last curse is right at the end of the intersecting alleyway and what sets your blood pumping is the figure of gojo running from the opposite entrance, shoko cheering for him at the back. great, he managed to convince shoko that his conditions are worth supporting. you grit your teeth and you push forward with more speed that you ever did in a physical activity. god, you're definitely going to feel the repercussions of pushing yourself too hard after this.

feeling the taut connection of your contracted curse, you summon her, "amanozako, go."

the image of a beastly woman slithered from within you, hungry to satisfy her cravings of lesser curses. you watch with narrowed eyes as gojo laughs, teleporting himself closer to the last curse you four have on the list.

then, the most bizarre thing happens.

you somehow reach the curse first than him, leading to your contracted curse to swallow the target in one swoop. she disappears from view and you can only see him --- standing there with a huge grin on his face, the sky of his eyes shining brighter than a beacon.

you blink, breath shuddering from all the running. "w-why--?"

gojo shrugs. "you have it first."

"but you're faster."

he glances behind shoko, who knowingly nods her head. his eyes flicker back at you. "i like you."

all air seems to escape you. everything is silent and all you can hear is the thudding rhythm of your heartbeat. you're pretty sure you look like an imbecile with your mouth open in shock but with the way gojo stares at you from over his sunglasses, one will think he's staring at the most pulchritudinous being he has ever laid his eyes on --- the first blossoming of spring in april. because even with the others lingering in the background, gojo has his six eyes focused on you. you can't even manage to utter a word when he repeats those three goddamn words that will haunt your daydreams.

"i like you, [name]. i'm willing to lose against you if that's what it takes to say my feelings. figured this is the better route compared to the cowardly one i wanted."

"thank me, you idiot!"

"ignore her," gojo casually says after hearing shoko's words, his steps taking him closer to you with his hands snug inside the pockets of his slacks. once he stops in front of you, he takes one of his hands from his pants and brushes the back of his knuckles over your cheek. butterflies seem to bloom on the areas where he leaves behind his wordless declarations. "so, what do you say, sweetheart? wanna give this a shot?"

#— rory's passages 🌼#jjk x reader #jjk gojo #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujustsu kaisen x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #jjk x you

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definatelymrhyde · 3 months

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Worse than I had thought lore dump because I’ve been holding it in way too long

THE CHARACTERS

JEKYLL

Jekyll is meant to be a little crazy, or at least very eccentric. Think like he’s TGS Jekyll, but slightly crazier and much less good at masking his true emotions. He was disgusted at Edward when he first created him, and as much as he hates to admit it, he and Edward are verrrrrry similar. I’m not sure if I’ve ever mentioned it yet, but Edwards' mannerisms and ways of movement and facial expressions are just exaggerated versions of all of Jekylls. Why, they’re literally the same person, just not. Confused? Yeah, me too. He tries to be polite with Edward and stuff but he just isn’t very good at it. This backfires later on.

EDWARD

Edward is weirdly chill at the start of the fic, and also a little socially awkward. But this is kind of just because at the point we’re at right now, he’s been an existing being for what, like eight to fourteen days or something?? He’s Jekyll but intensified, and if we’re going with the theme of masking, he just.. doesn’t mask anything about himself. He also actively spoils books for people which is kind of funny. Don’t get me wrong, he isn’t JUST an eccentric bad boy or whatever. He’s a terrible person. He’s all of Jekylls (or what Jekyll himself considers to be) bad traits personified. Edward is openly mean, VERY spiteful and just generally a not nice person to be around. He doesn’t like people lying to him, he knows by Chapter gen that Jekyll doesn’t like him and trust me, it’s MUCH more than what you see at the end of that last chapter (as of posting this at least). He gets MUCH worse, and the whole situation with him and Jekyll is much WORSE THAN YOU THOUGHT. (BAD-UM SSSSS PUN INTENDED. HA.)

UTTERSON

He’s concerned for his friend, Jekyll. And you know what? He’s probably the least insane and most reasonable one here. I would trust him with my life honestly. He’s responsible, kind, and generally a good person if a little bit nosy when it comes to other peoples situations. But he has good reasons. JEKYLL TRIED TO FRAME IT LIKE UTTERSON BETRAYED HIM BY OPENING THE LETTER. UTTERSON DID NOT DONT LET JEKYLL GET TO YOU UTTERSON IS A WONDERFUL PERSON.

THE MURDERER

You know, I’ve never actually done much but describe the way these guys look. But they DO have cannon designs and some pretty intense lore I’m not revealing yet because spoilers. We don’t like spoilers here.

Yes that was plural. The plural part was intentional. You’ll see.

THE MORALS

All actions have consequences: This isn’t just Jekyll creating oh super evil Edward, it’s his constant mistreatment of his already ‘evil’ or ‘distasteful’ alter ego. Jekylls first thought upon seeing Edward was essentially ‘oh fuck oh god what have I done what have I created what have I unleashed upon this world.’ Followed by pure disgust and shame about what he’s created, or rather what he’s done to himself. Of course, Edwards reaction upon digging through their memories (which is never shown, but mentioned in I THINK chapter ten?) is to be spiteful and live up to what Jekyll thinks he is.

Yes, everything CAN get worse: It’s in the name. Worse than I had thought. TGS Jekyll (Henry), upon looking at a situation almost identical to his from an outside perspective realizes that maybe his situation is worse than he plays it off to be. It’s a BAD situation for both Henry AND Hyde.

Sometimes, being TOO similar can make some people hate one another: Hyde and Edward do not like eachother. They’re too similar but also too different at the same time and it’s jarring to both of them.

And here’s the big one, Masking: Essentially Jekyll masks and put on a facade (haha get it? GET IT??) of being a nice perfect person, and isn’t very good at it and Edward goes “fuck it we ball.”

THE UNIVERSE

This is a biggie to explain. So essentially, yes, it’s a musical, but it’s not THE musical. The songs do not appear in the same order as they do in the original show, instead they appear in whatever context I say fits. The music part works as follows: The music and underscoring (music that plays during a scene or in interludes with dialogue) is an integral part of the universe. Ingrained in everyone’s minds, the motifs they need to know, what means danger, what means it’s time to sing, they know it all. And the singing? It’s just a thing that happens there. It’s a way to push along stories and life and stuff.

The story basis of the universe itself is different. It’s like a mix of the original book, the musical and TGS in a way. I’m not even 100% sure how to explain it myself. But I CAN provide some fun facts about it!!

-Jekyll does not date and is not engaged to Lisa/Emma Carew, and he’s never romantically involved with Lucy either. Because I didn’t want to write romance.

-I’m not sure if I’ll ever mention it, but it IS a cannon fact that Lisa/Emma and Lucy are girlfriends because I’m the creator of the Musical Mixup universe and I do what I want i guess

-Utterson and Jekyll have been friends since probably just before, or since the start of university! They’re very close, and there was even a deleted Edward dialogue saying “I mean, we get along better than them, still not as good as you and Utterson, though.” That was deleted because my editor, Ash, mentioned that it sounded like a dirty joke and I hadn’t intended for it to sound like that.

Aaaand that’s about as much as I can say without there being spoilers for any stuff in chapters I haven't posted yet. If that made zero sense then I apologize, feel free to ask me questions and stuff! I don’t bite, I promise!!

The end!! (For now, probably at least)

#the glass scientists #jekyll and hyde #edward hyde #henry jekyll #tgs hyde #tgs jekyll #oc #worse off than i thought tgs #ao3 fanfic #definatelymrhyde talks about random things

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dancingtotuyo · 10 months

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Kryptonite | Dave York x Reader | One Shot

Rating: EXPLICIT/Mature

Summary: Running into Dave York changes your life and unleashes a new part of yourself.

Inspired by Kryptonite by 3 Doors Down

Tags: dark!Dave York, infidelity, Germany, song fic

Warnings: infidelity, violence and descriptions of violence, death (not Dave or reader), descriptions of blood, murder, self defense, explicit smut (p in v), oral sex (both m & f receiving), heavy groping, choking, smacking/hitting in a sexual manner, knife play, power dynamics, use of “daddy” in a sexual manner (minimal), consensual sex, possible dub con, cream pie

Notes: I wrote this one for the LOML @janaispunk for Christmas 🫶, though you won’t find it filled with Christmas festivities! Huge shout out to @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin for listening to my ideas, reading through it, and being an overall huge encourager!

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PAY EXTRA ATTENTION TO WARNINGS ON THIS ONE

Words: 7160

THIS STORY CONTAINS EXPLICIT CONTENT AND DARK THEMES. IT IS NOT INTENDED FOR THOSE UNDER 18 YEARS OF AGE. MINORS PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT

“I took a walk around the world to ease my troubled mind.”

Dave York isn’t a bad guy. If one were to give him a chance, he would explain how he’s actually one of the good guys. He’s simply standing up for those who have been wronged by the fucked up system that abandoned the ones who do the dirty work. It’s all conjecture. How he rationalizes it all away. How he lets himself sleep at night, and go home to his wife and beautiful daughters. He does this for them. He isn’t a bad guy.

Yet, even he starts to see through his bullshit. He won’t admit it, but it’s getting harder to sleep at night. Tonight is one of those nights. That’s how he finds himself wandering the streets of a German city he can’t remember the name of.

The air is just verging on chilly, the breeze whipping at his typically well-kempt hair. He usually keeps to the shadows when he’s managing his side business, worried about being picked up on a camera, but it’s late now. He keeps out of the street lights, the stars shielded by the light pollution.

He inhales deeply. This time tomorrow he’ll be on a flight back to the States and slide into bed next to his wife. He’ll wake up, make lunch for the girls, and take them to school. The perfect all-American family. Dave loves them. His girls are his world. He is doing this for them. Every smile and giggle makes this all worth it. Alice and Molly deserve the world. Sometimes, he wonders if his wife knows. Carol hasn’t said anything, but sometimes he catches her just staring at him. Logic says she just loves him. How many times early on in their life together had he done the same thing? How long has it been since he looked at her with that awe?

If he’s honest, Dave doesn’t give his marriage much thought anymore. It’s something that’s just there like two planets orbiting each other but never intersecting. It’s something that’s just part of the persona of Dave York. The version of him his friends and family know. He is starting to wonder if that man still exists. He’s found himself feeling freer during his “work trips” than he does at home.

If it weren’t for his girls…

Dave can’t finish the thought as he collides with a woman in a blue dress and billowing feather boas wrapped around her neck. You.

“Oh shit!” Dave’s hands shoot out, steadying your form, one on each shoulder.

You let out a soft snort quickly covering it with a giggle. “Oh my god.” You try to sober but fail before another giggle takes over. You buzz with the carefree energy of someone a couple drinks into the evening but not wasted.

Any words forming in Dave’s head die there. Your eyes sparkle with mischief. Your smile leaves him stunned. He’s seen his fair share of women even as a married man, but never crossed the boundary of infidelity. Dave doesn’t label what is about to happen as infidelity because right now he isn’t Dave York from Arlington, Virginia, father to two and husband. Right now, he’s Dave York private gun for hire, or Patrick Smith born in Pennsylvania if you looked at his passport.

“I’m sorry,” you say. Dave’s hands don’t move from your shoulders. “I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

Dave flashes a smile, the same one he used to pick up Carol years ago, but she’s the furthest thing from his mind right now. “I should be more aware of my surroundings. Especially with such a beautiful woman about.”

Your cheeks flush with heat. He has a sneaking suspicion that it’s not from the alcohol in your system. Dave has never been above sweet-talking to get his way during his time with the agency. “You’re American.”

“Unfortunately, yes.” Dave winks. You laugh. Dave swears he could listen to that sound every day if given the chance. “But are you with anyone? It’s late. I wouldn’t want anything to happen to you out here all alone.”

You tilt your head to the side, life glowing in your eyes. Whether you’re always like this or it’s all alcohol-induced, Dave doesn’t know, but he wants to find out. He needs to know.

“And I’m supposed to trust you, Mr. America.”

He chuckles, looking up at the sky for a moment before bringing his gaze back to you. He can’t stop taking you in. You feel like a breath of fresh air in his stifling life. He smiles, the first time he’s felt fully himself in possibly years. “My name is Dave.”

You glance between his hand and his face, sussing out if he is trustworthy. He seems so, comes across as genuine. He’s a bit older than you, but handsome nonetheless with big brown eyes and the sincerity of a well-raised child.

You inhale deeply, choosing to be a little wreckless for once and jump head first into something. What’s the worst that could happen? You take his hand.

“I watched the world float to the dark side of the moon.”

It’s probably a stupid choice, but Dave gives you his number. His real number. He doesn't have enough time to see you again before he leaves Germany and he isn’t ready to let this go yet. He escorts you safely to your apartment, chatting idly over the 10-minute walk and the 30 minutes you spend on the front stoop. As he goes to leave, you stand on tiptoes, pressing your lips against his. In return, he pushes you against the front door, hands roaming up your sternum. You giggle at him like a smitten schoolgirl and hand him your phone.

Dave has a second number. He could’ve given you that one. He probably should have, but he wants easier access. He risks it. Dave is not a careless man, but he leans into the easiness of it in the moment. He kisses you again before leaving, much more chastely this time. He promises to see you next time he’s in town. He tells you he does business in Germany often. It won’t be long.

His veins buzzed with electricity the whole walk back to his apartment, his body alive in a way that feels almost supernatural. As he crosses the threshold, his phone pings with a text from an unknown number. Dave knows who it is before he looks at the text.

Over the next two weeks, Dave finds himself instantly reaching for his phone with each ping. The time difference is a pain in the ass but sometimes works in Dave’s favor. Like when Carol is sound asleep and you’re wide awake across the sea.

When the call comes through from a contact that they’re ready to move in on a target in Germany, Dave almost jumps up in celebration. He’s never hit the tarmac with his bags packed so fast. He tacks on a couple extra days to visit you.

Those extra days can’t come soon enough. He always prides himself on his ability to compartmentalize. He can tune out the rest of the world, get a job done with the precision of the assassin he is, and return to life as if nothing happened, but this time, he finds himself rushing through the process, eager to get to the finish line, eager to get to you.

However, when the night of the hit comes, he slips right into Dave York The Killer, cold, heartless, robotic. The crew is smaller this trip, the target not as high profile, but still a big payout. He forces himself to stay steady, forces himself not to speed through his progressions. The team doesn’t notice a difference in him. He takes that as a good sign. The target is asleep, alone, thank god.

Dave slides the knife into the victim’s chest. He’s lying if he says he doesn’t find a particular beauty in it. The firm pressure, the slice of the knife, the crimson blood. It’s always a rush, the planning, the practice, the kill, and Dave enjoys it all. This particular hit sends an extra rush of pleasure through his veins.

He takes the train to get to you, fighting the urge to show up on your doorstep in the wee hours of the morning. Dave York is not a patient man, but he somehow manages, pacing his hotel room still as he buzzes with the high of the night’s hit and the excitement of seeing you in the morning. You recommended meeting at a small cafe, but as Dave lays awake with the sun peeking through the curtains, he decides to surprise you at the apartment.

Dave has to force himself not to rush, which seems to be becoming a theme with him. He makes himself a cup of coffee in the hotel room and sits down drinking every drop until he can’t stand to wait any longer, leaving his hotel 30 minutes before he needs to.

Dave could’ve taken time to enjoy the city in daylight. He spends so much of his time in these destinations under the cover of darkness, missing the beauty, but he doesn't. He wants to believe he keeps to his training, keeping an eye out for someone following him and staying out of the view of cameras, but the truth is, he’s completely unaware of it all. His sole purpose is to get to you.

When your apartment building comes into view, he finally slows, aware of how early he is. Hell, he’s supposed to meet you there.

One of your curtains is open, giving him a faraway view into your apartment. Dave has fully accepted that he’s verging into creep territory, but he doesn’t care. It’s been two weeks since he’s laid eyes on you. That’s two weeks too long for him.

He holds his breath, waiting in anticipation for a glimpse of you, patience dwindling within a few minutes of waiting. The anticipation grows into anxiety. Did he come to the wrong building? That’s impossible. Dave never forgets places, even if he did, he would never forget yours. Are you home? Did you forget? He studies the window searching for any evidence of life. Has something happened to you? Oh god, has someone connected the two of you? Figured out his whole facade? He has half a mind to break down the door and go in guns blazing.

His phone pings. It’s the only thing that could break his concentration. Your name pops up, granting him instant relief.

See you in 20?

He smiles, glancing back up toward the window. You are okay. Everything is okay because Dave is a smart man. He knows how to cover his tracks, and you are a sacred treasure he wants to keep all to himself. He will hide you away, protect you from it all.

He catches the subtle flutter of the curtains. The world around him becomes nonexistent as his full attention is pulled toward the window. She moves into view, head whipping around as you search for a specific item. He smiles, all of the anxiety leaving his body.

Instead of responding via text, he hits the call button. The dial tone plays against his ear. She moves out of view, no doubt searching for her cell.

“Hello?”

A smile overtakes his face. Dave can’t remember the last time one did so effortlessly. “Look out your window, Darling.”

His voice sits low in his chest, sending shivers through your body. You pull back the curtain. Dave waves down below. “Are you stalking me now?”

“It’s not stalking if you showed me where you live.”

You bite back your smile, heat gathering in your cheeks. “We were supposed to meet there.”

“I couldn’t wait.”

“Give me two minutes.” You say and the line goes dead.

Dave watches you zip away from the window. The swinging of the curtains is the only indication you were ever there. His chest tightens as he waits. Dave York considers himself a patient man, but he checks his watch for the 5th time in two minutes.

Then your door swings open. You come barreling toward him, a smile plastered to your face. It’s contagious as Dave chuckles, spinning you around like an episode of The Bachelor. His lips are warm against your cheek. “I’ve missed you, darling.”

A shiver runs down your spine as your feet plant on the ground. Dave’s warm brown eyes meet yours. “How can you miss someone you’ve hardly seen?”

“How can someone not miss you?” He laughs, fingers weaving with yours.

“You lie, Dave.”

“I could never lie to you.” He winks.

Dave holds your hand all the way to the cafe. He pays for your meal. He’s engaging, charming, making conversation, desperate to know everything he can about you. You’ve never felt such intention from another person.

After the cafe, you walk through town, hand in hand in broad daylight. The conversation continues to flow as naturally as a river. Dave is captivated. There’s no other word for it. He wants you. He never wants to leave. He thinks he may need you for survival.

You steer your steps toward your apartment. There’s a time and a place for subtlety. Today is not that. Dave picks up on it, catching the dilation of your pupils, feeling the shift between you.

But when you make it to the door, Dave plays the gentleman, asking when he can see you again. You cut him off with a kiss, tongue quickly delving into his mouth. His large hands plant solidly on your hips. You pull him inside. Dave remains respectful, but commanding. You eagerly submit to him. He stays the night.

“After all I knew it had to be something to do with you.”

Dave is losing it. One might argue that’s a bad thing. He’s not so sure as his mind is overrun with flashes of you. He’s quick to check his phone each time it dings. He knows better than to assign you a specific tone, but he wants to, even knows which one he would choose.

His team is building quite the reputation in the gun for hire business. They’re turning down jobs, having to play the cautious game of balancing their time between murder and families. They can’t arouse suspicions. They take turns staying stateside, sending in different crews depending on the job and need. Dave accepts every job within a quick train ride of you. He goes on each one. Sometimes it’s just him. Those are the easiest. He doesn’t even need to tell the team. It makes it easy to slip in, add more red to his ledger, and run to you with his hands dripping, metaphorically of course.

He can never stay more than the weekend, usually no more than a night, but you take every moment. He’s a drug you crave, an addiction you can’t kick. In fact, you don’t want to. It doesn’t matter if you never get more than a stolen night here and there, you’ll take whatever you can get running your hands over his toned muscles, tracing the scars littered over his body, some new and red, some old and faded.

It gives him an air of danger that sends a rush through you each time, like there’s darkness embedded in each scar and it seeps into you. The feeling should unnerve you. It doesn’t.

You want to ask, but you bite your tongue. They seem almost glaring compared to the person you know. Dave is sweet and gentle. The most violence you’ve seen in him is the intense fly hunt you went on last weekend as it buzzed intently around the two of you on the couch. You wonder about the stories behind each nonetheless. He’ll tell you when he’s ready.

He leaves again. He always does with the promise of returning soon. He can’t give you a date. He never can. His phone rings as he walks out the door. You catch the flash of a couple on his screen and a woman’s name drops from his lips. He doesn’t know you see it. Carol.

“But still your secrets I will keep”

You’re drenched. Sweat gathers across your naked skin. Dave thrusts into your dripping pussy, cock soaked in your juices. Your moans marry together, echoing off the walls of your apartment at 2 o'clock on a Thursday afternoon.

You called out of work when he appeared on your doorstep without a warning. He seemed broody, crashing his lips onto yours with more force than you were used to, setting your body ablaze in a new way.

Dave’s hips snap into yours with greater force than usual, his grip a little tighter, but it doesn’t hurt. Not how you expect it to. You like it, this rough side, the way his large hand pins both your arms to the mattress. “You’re taking me so good, Darling. Like a good little girl.”

His words strike a chord within you. Your walls tighten around him. You’re close. You know it. He knows it. His fingers run through your sopping folds, flicking at your clit with skill and precision. Your back arches. You feel like you need to crawl out of your skin. “I’m almost there.”

“I know, baby.” He keeps pace, pushing you closer and closer.

The invisible line snaps as waves of pleasure roll over your body. Dave keeps going, so close to his own release. He’s relentless, prolonging your own orgasm.

“I want to finish inside you. Fill you up like a dirty little whore.” Your cunt clenches around him. You’re not sure why his words affect you the way they do, but you love it. He moans. “Please, Darling.”

“Yes,” You hiss, feeling as if your orgasm has started over. “Please, fill me up.”

“Fuck!” Dave thrusts into you. Once. Twice. And then he buries himself into you, filling you with every drop he has.

Once the high settles to a mild thrum and you’ve cleaned up, you sit on the bed, fresh sheets below you, watching Dave as he gathers his things off your dresser. The sex was different this time, good, mind altering.

Dave has yet to put a shirt on. There’s a scar along his back that disappears beneath the waistband on his jeans. You’ve seen it before. You know all his scars, and you’re gathering his secrets too.

“I hope that wasn’t too much,” Dave says, back still turned to you. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he turns to you, with worried eyes. You saw a piece of him today that no one has seen before. Of that, you have no doubt.

“No, I liked it.” A small smirk quirks your lips. “I wouldn’t be opposed to trying some new things.” Heat pools in your belly again. That same darkness flashes in Dave’s eyes. You want to pull it out and learn it.

He chuckles. “I’ll keep that in mind for later.”

He pulls on his shirt, turning his phone back on. Your heart drops, popping the bubble. “You can’t stay.”

Dave sighs. You catch the guilt hanging off of him. “I’m sorry, Darling.”

“It’s okay…”

Dave bites his lip. “I’ll make it up to you. I promise. I-”

“I know you’re married.” It rolls off your lips without a second thought. You’re not sure where it comes from.

Dave’s face pales, tongue going dry as sandpaper. “Darling-”

“And I don’t care.”

The color fills his face again as he steps over to you. “How do you know?”

You shrug, laying back on the bed. “She called you when you were leaving last time. I did my research, Dave York.”

Dave isn’t sure what to think. In his line of work, it’s scary to know you found him on the internet. It’s a safety issue. If something ever happened to Molly and Alice… but he’s trusted you with much more than anyone else.

“You mean it? You don’t care?” He searches your eyes for any doubt, but finds none.

“You’re the one traveling across the ocean to see me. I also think you’re not just ‘working for the government’.”

There’s a deep growl low in his throat. He oozes evil like your favorite book to movie villain, sending shivers through your body. He cups your neck, using force to pull your lips to his. It’s hot and needy like he didn’t just spend the afternoon buried inside of you. His tongue shoves its way into your mouth, fighting with yours. He grabs your ass kneading it in his palms.

Then, he pulls away, voice gravely in your ear. “One of these days I’m going to tell you every single evil thing I’ve done, and you’re going to like it.”

You gasp, toes curling. He keeps eye contact with you, searching for any sign that you might reject him for it. You don’t ask. You don’t scoff. You believe him. You’ve seen the slivers of evil before, felt them. You’re beginning to wonder if they’ve seeped into you too.

Then he’s gone, disappearing like a ghost.

“I picked you up and put you back on solid ground.”

Adrenaline pumps through your veins. Your heart pounds in your ear. You can’t tell much in the dark, except there’s a man in your apartment, clad in black, and it’s not Dave.

You clutch the kitchen knife to your chest, thankful for Dave’s obsession with keeping things sharp. His boots are steady on your hardwood floors, leaving you to wonder if you’re safe huddled in the corner, or if you should sneak up behind him. Dave taught you to attack only if you are sure you can land a debilitating blow by surprise. You’re not a trained fighter. You’re not an assassin. You’re pretty sure Dave is.

Then, you see your chance. A small opportunity where you know you’ll be hidden in the darkness, not exposed by the open window. You know which floor boards to avoid.

You expect it to go by in a blur, but your mind feels clear. The exposed point on his neck calls to you like a beacon. The artery. He’ll bleed out before he knows what’s happening. Dave’s voice echoes in your head.

Your knife sinks into his neck, slicing skin and tissue like it’s softened butter. You pull the knife out, it drips with crimson blood. He tumbles forward, your lamp shattering into a million tiny pieces as he falls forward.

“You bitch!” He manages to his feet, blood spurting out of his neck. He tries to cover it with his hand, but he’s already losing color in his face. He stumbles toward you. You easily step out of his path, sinking the knife into his chest cavity. It’s more difficult, but you know when you hit his lung.

You watch him fall to the floor, air wheezing from him like a punctured balloon as he coughs and sputters. He’s trying to speak, but can’t. You cock your head to the side, watching it happen, watching the life drain from his eyes, listening to his final breaths. You did that. You took down a man bigger than yourself with two quick blows, without hesitation.

You can feel the thick, red blood dripping off your fingers, soaking into your clothes.Your chest heaves. The knife clatters to the floor. You turn your hands over. You should want this off of you, scratching at the skin to remove it. Instead, you just stare in awe.

Dave appears, heart racing as he takes in the scene. He was gone for only a few hours. A quick job in a neighboring town. “Darling?”

You don’t respond, still inspecting your coated hands. He puts a hand on your shoulder, desperate to know that you’re okay. You jump, eyes blow wide.

“What happened?”

“I don't know. I woke up and he was here… I just- I did what you taught me.”

Your eyes focus on him. He’s in weird clothes- tactical gear. He probably killed someone tonight too.

“Are you okay?”

Your eyes snap back down to your hands. Are you okay? You don’t remember getting hit or knocked over, just the steel blade sinking into flesh over and over and over.

“Darling, look at me!” His hand wraps around your neck and your back hits the wall.

Your eyes snap to him. Your heavy breaths mingle together in the deafening silence that coats your apartment. His eyes are dark. Darker than you ever remember seeing them. You think, maybe, there’s a hint of cruelty floating in them.

“You’re okay.” His eyes scan over you to assure himself as well. He reminds himself that blood is not yours.

Your eyes drift back toward the body. The body that used to house a person with a life and family and-

“Look at me.” Dave’s voice is commanding, forcing obedience. The other side of him is coming out. This is not the Dave you know. It’s the one you’ve caught glimpses of. The one he told you about. This Dave is a monster. A monster you should run from.

“You did nothing wrong. He would’ve killed you.” His hand presses into your neck again. “You did the right thing.”

You thought this moment would break you, losing your Dave, but this Dave is yours too. You thought the monster would scare you. It’s everything you’ve ever stood against, but you want the monster.

A thrill shoots through you, unlocking a deep urge. The world should be blurry, hazing like the TV shows when someone experiences a trauma, but it’s buzzing around you instead. Your senses feel heightened.

Dave says your name. You look up at him. Time stands still. He knows you know. It’s a question of if you will accept it. You shouldn’t. You’re too good for him. He shouldn’t tarnish you, but he catches that look. It’s everything he feels after a kill. The adrenaline rush, the buzz of life through your veins. Maybe he didn’t tarnish you. Maybe he unlocked something in you. Your bloodied hands tangle in his thick hair as he surges forward lips colliding with yours.

This is wrong, so wrong. Another man’s blood is literally on your hands as they tangle in Dave’s hair. You should be disgusted with yourself. This is wicked. You’ve run from the wickedness your entire life. Now you feel like you should have embraced it. He bites your lip, so hard there’s a metallic taste in your mouth. It only spurs you on. A familiar ache grows in your core. Your teeth nash against his, meeting each of his tortuous movements.

His hand squeezes your neck just enough to make your head go dizzy. You should hate this. You should despise this, but your cunt clenches again. “You like that don’t you?”

He loosens his hold, the blood rushing back quickly. It’s a new rush, crashing over the edges of your heightened senses. You feel as if every nerve ending in your body is on fire and you never want it to stop.

His rough voice presses to your ear as he caresses your exposed neck reminding you how fragile your own life is. “The little slut likes when I get rough.”

You whimper at his words, your underwear growing wetter with each passing second. His knee presses between your thigh, granting some tension to your aching core. You move your hips against it. “Not so fast, Darling.” He tightens his grip on your neck, pressing you further against the wall. “You think just because you killed him you’re in charge now?”

Another whimper falls from your lips. An involuntary tear seascapes the corner of your eyes, beginning its descent. Dave’s eyes flicker to it, head cocking to the side. His eyes look different- wild verging on insane. You should be scared, but it’s still Dave. You trust him. Then his tongue is against your cheek, wiping it away with a long, slow swipe. Your nipples pearl under your thin nightshirt.

He whispers in your ear. “I'm in charge. Do you understand?”

You nod.

“Good.”

He produces a knife out of thin air. It’s one you’ve seen before. He’s sharpened it at your kitchen counter. He brushes the tip along your collarbone. Your eyes track its every movement. It’s not enough to cut you, but enough that you can feel how sharp it is. Your heart thuds harder, but your hips move against his knee of their own accord.

He clicks his tongue, forcing the knife down in a single swift movement. You cry out, expecting to feel pain, only to find your chest exposed and your nightshirt torn down the middle. He hand gropes your breast, squeezing it like a stress ball. A gasp falls from your lips as his finger runs over your nipple.

“Let’s get you cleaned up.”

By your neck, he leads you in front of him to the bathroom. He kicks the door shut, pressing you against it. He produces the knife again, running it through your pajama shorts. The scraps fall to the floor, leaving you in the delicate lace pair of underwear you wore in anticipation of Dave’s arrival.

His tongue clicks appreciatively. The tip of the knife traces over the lace. You whimper, eyes falling closed. He falls to his knees.

“So pretty.” Dave presses his mouth to your clothes cunt. He works his tongue over the thin fabric, pulling it between his teeth. It’s just enough to tease and not enough to provide relief.

“Dave.” It comes out so hoarse you don’t recognize your own voice.

He grins up at you, pulling the knife through your underwear with a rehearsed flick of his wrist. They join your shorts on the floor. You’re bared to him while Dave is fully clothed.

You catch the blood in his hair, splattered on his clothes. It’s drying on your skin now. You know you should be repulsed by it, but the thought of what you did still makes you buzz to life.

“Stay right there.” He eases to his feet. “I mean it. Don’t move.”

He turns on the shower, pushing the hot water all the way. As steam starts to fill the room, Dave removes his clothing item by item. He’s not making a show of it per se, but he is commanding, concise. He pulls another knife from his belt and sets it on the counter. Your breath catches and he makes eye contact. A whisper of a smirk plays on his lips. “Standing so still for me, darling.” You squeeze your legs together, feeling the familiar squelching between your vaginal lips.

You eye the knife a moment longer, biting your lip. Something about it calls out your name. You’re not sure if you should grab it and find the nearest person to plunge it into or if you want Dave to use it with you, on you.

Dave catches the glimmer in your eyes as you eye it. A newfound excitement tugs in his belly. A whole new world is opening before him. One where he doesn’t have to hide all this shit from you, one where you might enjoy it too. You’re not shutting down after killing that man, his body cooling on your living room floor. You liked it. He likes it.

He kicks off his boots and socks. His pants follow. Your eyes travel over his body. The scars make sense now. You still don’t know what Dave does, but you know it’s bad. There’s a small band across his ankle that houses another knife. You should hate him for all of this, kick him to the curb. Instead, your cunt is soaking, and you’re not sure you’ve ever wanted him more.

He chuckles as you eye the knife on his ankle. It’s the only thing he wears other than his briefs now. His dick bulges, usually pulling your attention, put you can’t pull your eyes away from the knife.

Pulling off his underwear, Dave comes back over to you, pressing his body against yours. His teeth scrape over the veins of your neck and he bites down on your earlobe as his hand tangles in your hair.

You release a soft yell. You barely recognize the man in front of you, but it doesn’t matter.

He grips your thigh, hiking it over his hip, running his dick through your sopping cunt.

“You like my knives, Darling?”

You nod as pleasure plays like a movie across your body.

He gips your chin, forcing you to look at him. “Use your words.”

“Yes.” It barely comes out.

His brows raise in amusement. “Would you like me to use them?”

“You won’t hurt me.” You say it as a statement.

Flashes of his softer side show before he clamps them down. “I won’t hurt you.”

“Yes.” It’s almost a yell.

Without hesitation, he grabs the knife off the vanity, pressing it to your neck. “On your knees.”

You obey coming face to face with his hard cock. The knife stays against your delicate flesh.

“You know what to do, baby.”

Again, you obey, taking it into your mouth. The knife is cool against your neck, the only reminder it’s still there. You don’t know how it never pierces your flesh either by dumb luck or expert skill.

Dave’s hips thrust forward, almost triggering your gag reflex. Tears fall from your eyes. Curses sputter from Dave’s lips as he uses your mouth. “Such a good girl for me, aren’t you?”

You breathe from your nose, forcing yourself to nod.

“Shit!” Dave curses, pulling out of your mouth. “I’m going to paint that pretty pussy of yours.”

Your cunt clenches as a small moan tumbles from your lips. He chuckles, hand closing around your neck once more as he ushers you into the shower.

The water is hot, burning against your skin as if it might melt your skin off. Dave holds you under the water. Your breath catches as your body screams out. The water beneath you runs red as the blood washes from your skin.

Your back hits the cool tile wall granting relief from the scalding water. He lathers soap over the parts of your body still stained red, fingers occasionally brushing under your breasts, tweaking nipples.

“You’re so beautiful, darling. Even covered in blood.”

You whimper again, senses overloaded from the trauma, the rush, the teasing. “Dave, please.”

“Please what? You have to use your words, Doll.”

Your walls constrict again, desperate to be around something. Your arms and legs are heavy with need. He’s never used that term with you before. It should be degrading. It is, but it sets another wave of pleasure. You wonder if it’s possible to orgasm virtually untouched. If it is, you’re close.

“Fuck me.”

His tongue clicks as he floats around yours, almost taunting you. He grabs your boob, hard enough it should hurt. It does a little, but pleasure overrides the pain.

“Ask nicely, Doll.”

His finger trails over your collarbone traveling between your breasts and down across your hip. Your thighs squeeze. His palm slips around as he grabs the back of your thigh, kneading it.

“I said.” His words come out like a punch. Concise. Almost sharp. “Ask. Nicely.” He pushes your thigh over his waist, forcing your supportive leg to your tiptoes.

You feel his cock near your entrance, brushing your pussy lips. You moan, hips bucking. He pushes against your neck, running your head into the tiles behind you. “You little slut. You think you can just take it.”

You gasp. “Please.”

“What do you want?”

“I want your cock inside me, Daddy.” It tumbles out of your lips before your brain catches up.

He thrusts his cock into you, sheathing himself fully, hitting the deepest parts of you. Then he’s gone, making you feel empty but only for a second until he enters you again. His hand squeezes tighter around your neck. You come for air as he continuously splits you apart thrust by thrust, pulling out almost fully each time.

Your moans are loud, drowned out by the steaming shower. Tears gather in the corners of your eyes. Dave pays you little mind, shows little care as he continues with a brutality you’ve never encountered, a brutality that only makes you soak his cock. He doesn’t slow. You don’t want him to. He never touches your clit, but you're propelling forward, chasing that high in a way you never have.

The pitch of your voice steps up. The spasm starts in your stomach traveling down to your core as you flutter around Dave’s cock. Your supporting leg shakes. Still, he never eases up, working you through your orgasm.

It hits you like a punch to the gut, a scream piercing the air. Your scream. Dave doesn’t stop. He doesn’t stutter. He keeps pace, chasing his own release.

With each thrust, you yell. You hear the squelching of your sopping cunt against his dick over the roar of the shower. His continuous movements extend your release until he finally buries himself inside you, coating your pussy with his cum. “Such a perfect little doll for me.”

You let out a final whimper as he pulls around, dropping your leg. Your knees buckle. You barely keep yourself upright, legs tingling and shaking.

Dave kisses your cheek. The softness causes a sense of whiplash. He glances over your body, making sure the blood is cleared from your skin and hair. He rinses the blood from his hair as your brain slowly returns to the world. You expect to be exhausted, and you are, but there’s still that low buzz deep within your body.

You killed a man. You took a life. You should feel bad. There’s a fucking body in your living room, but all you can think about is the rush. You liked it. Watching Dave, you wonder if he feels the same way. There’s no doubt to you that he’s taken lives before. You wonder if he knows how many.

The water stops. Dave dries you off with the soft bath towel. He helps you into his soft white t-shirt and tucks you into bed.

“I need to make a call.” He kisses your head and shuts himself in your bathroom. You hear him on the phone, but his words are muffled by the door.

You lay on your back, sheets cool against your hot skin. Staring at the ceiling, you can still feel the blood dripping from your hands, hear the piercing of the knife. You heart rate picks up. What would it be like to do that again? Would you feel the same rush of adrenaline? Would it feel better?

Dave comes out, tossing his cell on the nightstand and sliding under the covers. His hand covers yours.

“What about…?”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s taken care of.”

You don’t ask. He probably knows people. His fingers drift over your cheeks and jaw. They skim lower, following the same path down your neck as your arteries. They feel cool against your skin, drawing patterns where you anticipate bruises tomorrow.

“Did I hurt you?”

He’s almost back to the Dave you know, soft and kind, but you still catch the edges of his dark side. He’s more of a blend now. You think you might be getting the real, true Dave now.

“No,” you shake your head. There was pain. You’ll be sore tomorrow, sport a few scrapes and bruises, but it doesn’t feel like he hurt you.

Dave kisses your forehead, fingers tracing your collarbone now. A question forms in your head, gnawing at the corners of your brain.

“Dave?”

“Hmmm?” He sees distracted, entranced as he follows his hand over your skin, skimming the tops of your breasts. Your nipples tighten making you curl your toes with a familiar tug of desire. How are you ready to go again after that?

“What if I liked it?”

His eyebrow quirks. “The sex?” he pinches your hardened nipple making you gasp.

“All of it?”

His palm stops. The pitch of his voice deepens. “All of it?”

You bite your lip, nodding.

“Use your words, Doll.” He cups your breath, teasing your nipple more. His breath is hot in your ear. “Tell me what you like.”

“I-” Can you really say this out loud? Will it blacken your soul? Or is it already charred and damned.

“Tell me.” He smacks your chest like a parent might smack their child’s hand away from an electrical outlet.

Your pussy clenches as you squeeze your legs together. He smacks your other breast in the same manner. You gasp, practically yelling out your answer. “Killing him.”

The air stands still. For a second, you expect a look of disgust to cross Dave’s face. Instead, a smirk grows. “You liked that?”

You nod, not able to say anything else. Dave climbs on top of you, kicking away the covers. He pushes his hand up your sternum, kneading your breast before running it back down. He repeats the motion, rotating between the two. Moans grow in your chest. He bites your earlobe.

“Did you like the way the knife slid into him?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, Daddy,” Dave growls in your ear.

“Yes, Daddy,” you repeat between moans. Your sopping hole drips onto the sheets below you. Dave’s motions steadily grow in intensity.

“Did my doll like the way her body felt alive? Like you absorbed that bastard's energy.”

Tears drop from your eyes. You want him again. You need him again. “Yes, Daddy.”

“Does my doll want to do it again?”

“Yes, Daddy.” You practically scream. You should be ashamed of the answer. You should be ashamed that there isn’t an ounce of hesitation in your being.

“Fuck,” Dave says, shoving your legs apart. He pushes his cock inside you again. “Don’t worry, darling. I’ll make sure you will.”

Dave moves inside you. It’s not as violent, not as torturous as earlier, but it’s just as satisfying. The promise of more ignites a fire inside of you.

Dave takes you to the brink, pushing you until you pass out from exhaustion, spent, used, and sated.

“I’ll keep you by my side with my superhuman might.”

When you wake up the next morning, the body is gone. The lamp you broke is replaced and a new area rug is delicately placed in your apartment. Not a speck or splatter of blood can be found anywhere. Dave stands in the kitchen gray sweatpants hanging low on his hips. He cooks eggs on the stovetop and a steaming cup of coffee sits on the counter.

You wrap your arms around him. He hums. His skin is warm beneath your cheek, heart beating against your palm. “I like the rug.”

“Me too.”

“Kryptonite”

#dave york #dave york x reader #dave york x you #dave york x female reader #dark!dave york #dark!fic #pedro pascal #the equalizer 2

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