#Eb is going to push that man one day until he's looking down at his own grave going “Yeah I had that coming. I still won the argument tho.”
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Working on revisions and oh boy, why do both of these assholes always fight? Truly, it leaves me baffled how each time they sit down damn near a squall is going to happen if not they circle back for round two.
I swear its foreplay for them.
Problem is one can't fight himself out of a wet paper bag while the other knows how to kill quite well when the situation calls and could easily kill the other with a swipe. Isn't hard to guess which one.
#Eb is going to push that man one day until he's looking down at his own grave going “Yeah I had that coming. I still won the argument tho.”#oc francis osman#scrooge 2022#scroogeverse#scroogeposting
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This Halloween | Yandere SatoSugu
“Hi, gorgeous! Surprised to see me here?”
“Don’t cry, (Y/n). We were never going to kill you.”
The reveal that the small town’s biggest menace was your friends Satoru Gojo and Suguru Geto. To think that the golden boys of Jujutsu High who were dating two of the victims were hanging off one another in their bloodied costumes. Smiles wider than they’d ever been with their supposed partners, the reality sinking made the bile rise in your throat.
Thinking about your meditation you close your eyes. The smell of partygoers rotting all over the small beach house fills your nose. The sound of the back screen door bumping against the frame as the beach breeze goes in and out with the tide surging outside. The taste of pennies filled your mouth as you gnawed at the inside of your cheek. The twitch of your fingers awkwardly hovered in front of your chest as they flexed in and out. On top of your breathing didn’t calm you as much as it usually did.
“(Y/n) did you hear what I said?”
The voice of Suguru somehow made it past the warbled sound of absolute confusion that clouded your brain. The leather glove lightly held your left hand as he slowly came closer to you’re shivering state. Those brown eyes looking so deeply into your own, it felt wrong to look away.
“All you have to do is say we left early.”
You opened your mouth to ask but the growing sound of sirens stopped you. Gojo was the first to let out a curse, giggling about running away. He shook his raven-haired partner who hushed him with an amused smile, turning back to you.
“You can do that for me can’t you Dove?”
The duo left out the back. That screen door screeched as they ran through it; returning to bang against the frame angrily. Its aggressive banging triggered an all-new set of shivers to wrack your body, causing you to fall to the floor. Closing your eyes you try to level yourself again but the sound of your own heartbeat is deafening and the eyes of your best friend pleading with you.
It will haunt you forever.
The sight of Detective Choso brought an uncomfortable pit into your stomach. The man you’d met years ago in another city–your city, with his hair down and his eyes had bags like a masked vigilante.
“He’s out.”
The news didn’t scare you. Not as it should have. Many may find it strange to know you dreamt about serial killers on death row. But it warned you. Prepared you for the day you’d need to run as far as possible from anything you knew. On the anniversary of that day no less.
“What’s the plan?”
The detective pursed his lip and his eyes wandered. His feet, running the flat of his oxfords on the carpet of the entrance to your apartment. The silent scratch of the wool under his shoe irritated you almost as much as his request.
“We wanted to lure him out. Will you—”
He didn’t need to finish before the door was slammed in his face, pushing him back into the apartment hallway. Choso groaned to himself, the situation's futility ebbing at his already short patience. He calmly knocked on the door again.
A muffled, “Go away!”
He sighed, lightly banging his head on the rusted number of the apartment. With his ear so close to the door he could hear the receding footsteps and the mumbled curses directed at him. He looked down the hall making eye contact with the local department’s plant taking out the trash. He didn’t feel completely terrible leaving when there was a guard there, making a note to try again in 24 hours.
“I’ll be back.”
It was meant to be assuring but Choso worried it came off threatening as heard a defiant thump on the opposite side of the door. Resisting the urge to sigh again Choso turned tail, making his way to the elevator. Pulling out his phone he scrolled through his contacts, landing on the name: Idiot surrounded by blue hearts.
Holding the phone at his waist he timed the ringing until he heard said idiot singing out a ‘hello.’ Only then did he bring the phone to his ear and respond.
“The eggs secured and it’s staying in the next. How’s the snake?”
_____________________________________________________________
Gojo Satoru finished his lecture with a grand gesture as though he had finished giving a presentation. When in fact, he’d pressed play on the school’s TV the second his students got in their seats. Maybe in the back of his mind, he’d thought to make himself look better for the detective standing just outside the classroom. Even though they both knew it didn’t matter.
“I appreciate you waiting until the kids were outta the classroom. Wouldn’t want to explain to the parents why the police were in their school.”
The white-haired teacher spoke so cheerfully, that his familiarity with the detective might have seemed positive. The detective wasted no time calling their partners in; the stout one stood at the door while the taller one pulled at the blinds of the classroom. With the classroom darkened and the school slowly emptying the head detective decided to speak. Making a dramatic move of pulling a voice recorder out of his pocket he held it up as he asked his question.
“Where were you the night of October 7th?”
Gojo sat on his desk, kicking his feet as he mockingly thought hard. He pretended to put his fingers to his temple as though that would provide answers. The detective associates sneered at the childish display.
“Hm on the night of October let me see–”
The man trailed off as he reached over his desk, pulling a calendar out of a drawer. Flipping through it he animatedly pointed his index at the circled date on the calendar.
Smiling up at the detective Gojo exclaimed, “The anniversary of those horrible murders? Well, I was grieving over the victims by grading my kiddies homework.”
The detective snatched the calendar from him, letting his eyes glaze over the marked paper. Confirming the statement, he tossed the calendar back to him.
“Can anyone confirm this statement?”
Gojo let out a playful whine in annoyance as he dramatically flung back on his desk. The detective and their bodyguards all flinched at the large movement, hands hovering over the fire-arms tucked under their coats and at their belts..
“It’s always evidence with you guys, geez. I have it on the calendar, I never left my house you can ask my neighbors about that.”
“Your neighbors all live three kilometers away from you, That’s not an option.”
“So critical. If I personally broke out some poor inmate on death row do you really think I would have let you just walk into my space like this?”
The question had the detective hovering over their weapon again. Gauging the posture of the white-haired man who was only smirking in their direction with an unsetting nonchalance. The pause that ensued allowed the detectives to reluctantly let their hands drift from their weapons as the sound of multiple chattering students hurriedly approached the empty classroom. The door previously closed swung open to reveal Gojo’s most loyal student–a pink-haired teen leading the charge.
“Teacher! Did you see my post?”
With that smug persisting smirk on his face, Gojo turns his head feigning surprise.
“Unfortunately no. I was too busy talking with these old friends of mine. What’s up?”
“Dude! The police are totally raiding your place!”
The teen turned his phone around to reveal a short video of police and armored vehicles surrounding the luxurious Gojo estate. Plenty of onlookers also recorded the unnatural phenomenon for the typically small town. Granted the amount of paparazzi that constantly come in and out of the town to film anything they can on the Gojo head wasn’t all that rare, but the authorities looking so closely was. And like everything in this town, it was all anyone would talk about for months.
“Well, Detective Mahito am I under arrest?”
The long-haired detective sent a look to his partners and the curious teens absorbing the situation. Coming to a decision he openly hovered his hand over his weapon.
“You are not under arrest but for your safety, you need to come with us.”
Of course, there was a video preceding this of the beloved teacher being escorted into an unmarked vehicle and the students behind the camera being shooed away as it drove off. With all the interested eyes on this case, it almost felt impossible that anything would slip under the radar of millions of curious eyes.
_____________________________________________________________
(Y/n) remembered the way the couple went public with one another. After the tragedy that ensued at the annual Hallow’s Eve party, it was of minor shock that the two golden boys of the high school found solace in one another. Everyone chalked it up to the bonding of trauma after both lost their girlfriends.
“I just found that no one could relate like he can.”
You heard the reasoning in passing, always around the surrounding crowds curious about the latest scoop on the survivors of the Hallow’s Eve tragedy. No doubt some of them will have turned around to tell the outlets interested in the story as well while others would theorize about the identity of the masked killer.
“Maybe it was them!”
“Yeah, what a defense! ‘I don’t talk anymore after what I’ve seen!’ As if!”
The nauseating feeling would eventually go away but the pressure was suffocating then. Haunting your mind with their echoed speculations and the image of your dead friends. What’s worse was the killers so happily parading their sorrowed expressions along the halls. Accepting the gift baskets and surface-level condolences without an ounce of suspicion. The feeling of your hair raising along your skin when one of them mocked their sympathy towards you.
“Don’t be so hard on them, they’ve seen things no one should have to see.”
The constant threat of tears was a reoccurring pain, as you replayed the events of that party. It was never to be soothed by the couple who’d spend their free time pestering you. Often leaving quickly thereafter to repeat their sick game.
“Just keep quiet, Dove. We were here the whole time after all.”
“Yup, and to prove it we’ll take a picture. Don’t tell anyone okay?”
You couldn’t bare listening to them any longer.
______________________________________________________________
Conveniently the press that did have your new contact information weren’t as insistent as before. Quietly asking for a comment on the criminal notoriously associated with Hallow’s Eve murders. After all the rumored victim of the killer was recently detained, surely as the witness that convicted the killer to death row you’d have something to say. You kept quiet. Deleting emails and hanging up phone calls from unidentified numbers, solely focused on getting to your plane on time.
“I’m so sorry but all commercial planes have been grounded for the foreseeable future.”
Like glass breaking at the perfectly angled rock, you started to crack.
“What. Do. You. Mean?”
This poor employee didn’t deserve your wrath but she also wasn’t betting on this plane to save her life. She’d nervously stutter and stumble over her words as she denied every out or once of compensation to make this any better.
“There may be some private planes but those are in incredibly high demand–”
“I’ll go! I don’t care how much just tell me where!”
She seemed reluctant to say but she still told you. Maybe it was because she felt bad, seeing someone so desperate to get away or maybe it was because you were inches from her face. Either way, you were on the tarmac within the hour, along with a few others desperate enough to pay privately. Only to be crestfallen when you arrived at the staircase to enter the plane; letting the other exasperated passengers pass by your still form.
“May I help you with your bags?”
An attendant, with a shining smile and neatly pressed uniform with the plane’s company proudly pressed right above his heart. Greeting you with nothing but an offer to help; you cursed the involuntary reaction to vomit.
“Are all…the private planes available…from this private airline?”
You tried to keep the tremor in your voice to a minimum as you nervously wrung your hands around the handles of your bag.
The attendant—none the wiser—smiled and gestured to the other planes lining up the tarmac with rows of people.
“Yes, they are. Gojo Airlines is offering a discount during these trying times–”
He kept talking but you weren’t listening. Turning around to leave, ignoring the airport security and the attendants who were preparing to let you onto the plane. It meant nothing to you for the beating of your heart and your panicked breathing is all you can hear. When you finally waved down a taxi, you quickly dialed a familiar number.
“He knows.”
______________________________________________________________
Detective Jogo looked nervously at the contact of his partner miles away. Since the week that their missing subject committed the grand massacre, he was infamous for. Because of the nature of the parties involved, he was strictly instructed to not call unless absolutely necessary considering they suspected their phones were compromised.
“You eat yet?”
The question came with a warm bagel and a cup of coffee. Held over his seated form by the burly officer Hanami; coming from the breakroom on the other side of the station. For the first two weeks, it was just following the heir around. But with the inmate scheduled for death row at large and another anniversary coming up, it was decided they’d move the heir into one of their holding cells. Of course, it was lavished with furniture and decorations all chosen by the illustrious Gojo Satoru. He did whine when they demanded to inspect and bug his phone and laptop but the station was taking no chances when it came to this specific case.
The rumors were enough too.
“Have you checked on him within the last few hours?”
Hanami tilted her head looking at the one-way glass of the blue-eyed witness pacing casually in the fortified room. From the glimpses that Jogo got from his chair across the room, their witness was unusually chipper. The days they spent guarding him throughout the day were incredibly boring; temporarily leaving his job as a teacher to gallivant around a hotel of his choosing didn’t make it better. Throughout those weeks Gojo had subjected the team to an aggravating amount of chatter—none of it helpful or even worth repeating. Detective Mahito was plenty great at keeping up but Jogo and Hanami opted for alternating earplugs. Even with the earplugs in he could pick out the strong hints of annoyance bubbling underneath his wide smile and piercing gaze.
The change unnerved him. Especially with the rumors circulating around this specific witness.
“Didn’t want to besides I’m watching from the camera.”
Blunt and unforgiving Jogo wouldn’t expect anything more from the officer. It didn’t put him at ease.
“Where’s Mahito? Still investigating that place?”
If it was possible Hanami’s apathetic expression tightened, her brows knitting at the thought.
“Yes. Last he called all the evidence had been scrubbed and all we can hope now is that they forgot something we could use.”
Jogo sucked his teeth in shared annoyance. The rumor he was dreading was more like an undisclosed fact. The true masterminds behind the Halloween Massacre were both Gojo Satoru and the death row inmate Suguru Geto. The files say the Gojo family lawyer fought hard for the heir; effectively blaming it all on Suguru Geto. With prints, hair, witness testimony, and photographic evidence all on the heir they were able to plead for coercion by malicious manipulation. Getting their heir off and painting his partner in crime to be a greater threat than he. The whole fiasco of the jewel of the Gojo clan being involved made the whole case a living nightmare, that their superior Choso Kamo rose to fame with. By finally encouraging the only witness with viable evidence to testify Suguru Geto was sentenced to death row. And through expert lawyers mysteriously hired, he remained waiting for years.
Choso, before he left to guard the witness, believed it wasn’t just an escape attempt but a chance for the killers to tie everything up. Destroy the evidence, stop the search for the death row inmate, exact revenge on all who participated in the case, and reunite with their loved ones by the end of Halloween.
Of course, it was their best detective leaving to protect the witness who was in the most danger. Leaving his underlings—Mahito and Jogo to keep them on the pulse of the case and their eyes on the man believed to get off scot-free.
If it weren’t for him knowing Choso cared so much for this specific witness; he would have thought he was leaving them the rough side of this mission. He knew the hardened detective could be a compassionate man–a hard thing to retain in this line of work.
Jogo huffed taking a sip of his coffee,” I hope he’s having a better time than we.”
Hanami made a grunt of agreement before returning to the hall to stare at the monitors she had been for the past couple of days. He would have offered to switch if he didn’t think he thought this pit in his stomach could be resolved.
The 40-year-old detective stood from his seat. Careful to nurse the leg he’d fractured from two cases ago. He took his uneaten bagel, noting it retained some of its heat. He headed to the holding cell. Sending a look to the guard at his station, a buzzer rang and the door unlocked. With the final swipe of his keycard, he let himself into the semi-messy room. The culprit was sitting on his bed, a smile still on his smug little face.
“Hungry?”
Those cerulean eyes weren’t on him the second he came in, instead looking at the clock left graciously in the upper corner of the room. Nor did they flicker when Jogo asked his question. The disrespect made the Detective’s eyebrows twitch as he kept his hand holding the bagel.��
“I’m not going to eat your leftovers, old man.”
“Not good enough for you!? Not up to your snobby standards,” was what Jogo wanted to say but he didn’t need to get kicked off this case for suspected bias. It didn’t help that the man still wasn’t looking at him, laughing to himself as though Jogo told the funniest joke.
“Have you eaten anything today?”
Jogo was trying. He really was.
“Nope, but I’ll eat later today.”
Jogo loosened up,” Have any idea what you want?”
The Gojo heir’s smile didn’t compare to the smirk he had on before. His smile practically reached his ears and those haunting eyes staring right through Jogo, “All of your livers.”
“What?!”
The suspect wasn’t speaking anymore and Jogo’s phone was ringing.
Jogo had a decision to make. Answer the call or make sure he just heard what he did.
“You should answer that. He might never call again.”
Despite his better judgment, Jogo pulls out his phone, seeing the name of his fellow detective and the goofy photo they took on his phone. Another look at the white-haired man and he answered the call. Immediately his ears were assaulted with the sounds of wood crackling; the unnatural sound made his mind piece together what was happening.
“I-it’s a trap!” the tearful voice of Mahito rings the loudest. Jogo almost doesn’t want to speak as if that would make what he heard go away. “G-get out–”
The sound of something large falling and the frantic screaming from either the detective or some other poor soul being abruptly cut off. Punctuated by the phone call ending.
Jogo couldn’t take it anymore throwing his phone aside to reel his fist back to punch the chuckling man in the face. Prepared to fight against the guards that would be arriving any second he aimed with urgency. He was certain he’d have time to get in one. One good hit to the face of the man responsible for the chance that his partner might be dead.
“Did you really think I’d just let that happen? That’s cute.”
Jogo’s fist was easily captured by Gojo’s hand, a careless gesture strong enough to keep the shaking fist static and far from its intended target. Unnerved by that restraint the detective launched his other fist only for it to receive the same treatment. Pushing with all his might Jogo–in the split seconds of any fight—found himself at an impasse. Figuring if both his fists were being thwarted he’d go to the next best thing–his legs. Cursing the ache he’d have later he aimed to kick the heir in the gut.
“But not that cute.”
The quip was a warning barely processed as Gojo caught the man off-guard, releasing his fists to latch onto the outstretched leg. Gripping the ankle of the old man swung the body of the detective into the one-way glass. It crackled under his weight bursting with shards of glass as the stout man rolled past the curious guard’s post.
Jogo didn’t feel like he could get up but he did watching the blue-eyed man let himself out of the holding cell, a stolen I.D. being twirled in his hands. He didn’t need the guard to let him out, outright kicking the metal door until it flew off its hinges. Of course, the guards in the room moved with a taser and baton in hand.
“You guys are so dramatic! How about you go out begging then maybe I won’t make you suffer.”
The guards didn’t bother responding to the one with the baton going first. Swinging from above any normal man could barely manage to dodge but Gojo was by no means normal. He easily sidestepped the baton using the downward stroke of the officer to grab at his neck. At speeds, Jogo couldn’t comprehend the officer’s head was facing the opposite direction. Even worse they weren’t dead their eyes darting around as they tried to scream—making a gargled plea instead. The one with the taser barely had time to fire, missing the dodging assailant who easily grabbed the coils beaming with electricity to pull the gun from the guard's shaking hands. Defeated with a hand slicing toward their exposed neck also making the man gurgle as he fell to the floor.
“Now what was it we were talking about?”
The question was directed to Jogo and the pain paralyzed him to the floor. Helplessly watching as Gojo slowly walked closer. The old man’s eyes darted nervously around searching for anything to use. His thoughts raged with an all-manner of possibilities running through his mind there was one tool bound to stop the incredibly durable heir. His gun. Jogo took great care to not let this realization be made. Planning to only reveal this when he needed which would be soon, judging by the way Gojo was cracking his knuckles.
“About how this was all planned by you?”
Jogo was stalling but it didn’t seem Gojo was listening. The heir tapped his foot impatiently against the floor as he looked annoyed at the aching detective.
“Are you done because otherwise, I’m just going to end–”
In a large flash of blue, the heir stood back just barely dodging the hurling form of Hanami. Using her natural height against him she aimed a violent punch into the ground, cracking the concrete the heir was standing over just a moment before sidestepping. Jogo felt his heart lift, who greater to fight alongside than Hanami—the human tank with punches as strong as steel. Surely now they had a chance.
Jogo pulled out his gun aiming at the dodging heir. Waiting for just the right moment to pull the trigger and finally end the menace that got to run free.
“This really was fun but I’m tired of this place.” The declaration sounded petulant like a child,” and I’m tired of you.”
Almost in annunciation a pale hand shot through the chest of Officer Hanami–the human tank stopping her assault to look down at the hand pulling out of her. Before Gojo’s bloodied hand could leave a spray of her blood dousing her face and eyes. Fear-filled eyes watched his partner struggle as a waterfall of viscous carnage poured out of her baffled mouth.
Through the tears growing in his eyes, Jogo fired his gun.
Over a year spent in the police academy and being a rookie in the small town. To a supervisor to a junior detective who humbled himself to learn the young genius detective. More than certain his aim was true, he collapsed into himself. The weight of both his partners, his friends dead when just hours ago they were as lively as ever.
Thankful that the beast responsible was gone.
“Glad you came I was just about ready to clean up myself.”
The monster he thought he’d defeated was standing above him casually calling out to another down the hall. Whoever this was holding a disembodied arm and was casually walking in the halls surrounded by bloody remains of the investigative team.
As frightening as it was to revel in the new threat having gotten past security and was brutal enough to be carrying the limbs of his coworkers. But it didn’t take away from the horror of realizing his gun never did go off. Instead, his gun was squished with the bloodied hands of Gojo Satrou, who sent one last disgusted look in his direction before dropping the disfigured gun in his lap.
“I told you, I had it under control.”
“Whatever you say ‘kuna.”
“Don’t call me that. Now go on get to your ‘date.’”
If Gojo had taken the talons he called fingers and torn out Jogo’s heart it would have been better than recognizing the pink-haired, tattooed man, covered in blood. To think he’d have the privilege to die near the detective-turned-mercenary Ryomen Sukuna. Face ashen and succumbing to his fate, he wistfully watches the white-haired man skip over the carnage of the force. Without so much of a glance, the Gojo Satoru had taken everything from him in a matter of minutes.
The only thing he did have left was doomed to be gone soon.
“You ready to fight to your death?”
An idol asking a question worthy of someone who wasn’t likely paralyzed by merely being thrown through a window and failing to shoot the man responsible for the destruction of an effort to maintain justice no matter who the suspect is. There was only one thing he could say as Sukuna awaited his answer.
“Yes. More than ready.”
______________________________________________________________
Today was the day you’d broken your silence all those years ago. Once again traveling with the detective to the far reaches of a rural town far away within the safe confines of a car. It didn’t soothe you in the slightest. From the airport incident, the unnerving shiftiness within your stomach hadn’t settled not like it did when Suguru was finally shipped off to prison and not like when Gojo was sent to a foreign exchange school. It wasn’t over.
“How are you doing?”
The question was worthless but you hadn’t said anything since Choso dignified the plan. A lot was unspoken between you but talking was still necessary.
“Like throwing up. How’s your brother?”
The immediate question was not just a deflection, it was the easiest way to distract the detective. Choso was a proud older brother who at any topic that reminded him of his little brother ensued in long rambles about said brother. It’s a perfect soundtrack to drown your thoughts and avoid playing therapist with the detective you’re effectively running away with.
“Since you asked—”
Seeing the tired straight-faced detective finally begin to smile as he proceeded to rant. It’s a nice change to the gloom you both permeate. You figured you’d help stave it off for a while with some light chatter.
“---and his little friends all look up to him like the natural-born leader he is!”
“He’s in high school now right?”
“He is. He’s actually….” Choso trails off as his smile falls,” he’s actually going to Jujutsu High.”
The name of the familiar school renews the tense atmosphere and with terrifying speed, the synapses of your brain begin to fire off. Suddenly you can guess why Choso insisted the plant stay behind or how he refused the undercover police escort. Or why instead of awkwardly attempting to cheer you up he keeps his tired eyes on the road ahead.
“So the safe house was a lie.”
Choso visibly grimaced, “Not entirely. I wouldn’t give you to them if I wasn’t sure you’d be safe.”
“Them!?”
He dared to look at you out of the corner of his eye.
“I know what they’re after and they’re not going to hurt you.”
You rolled your eyes, “You trusted the serial killers who promised they weren’t going to hurt me?! Gee, what a smart detective you are, let’s blindly trust the guys who have a death wish for me!”
Choso had the nerve to look offended at that. You didn’t bother holding back your glare, anxious to hear the reasoning behind this betrayal. His hands tightening against the wheel told you there was some turmoil—as if that would resolve the bubbling fury that had you debating about taking the wheel and driving you both off the road.
“My partners went back to the place, searching for evidence.” He spared a look towards you as if confirming you’d shrink in on yourself at the mention of that Halloween Night. “It was rigged to explode after they found some evidence. My other partners that were meant to guard him….”
His tired eyes were blinking in a futile effort to hold back tears. Thankfully he had the decent to pull over before clasping his hands over his tired face. With only the light sniveling filling the car, you were forced to remember that night. The fire. The blood. It was all too much. You reached for the handle of the door, pulling at it to get into the open fields Choso pulled in. Only to find the door would not give.
“(Y/n), their funerals will be closed caskets and the cause of death will be chalked to some accident that explains the state of the bodies.”
He was trying to look at you, to get you to look at him. The droplets clouding your vision and the frantic breathing you were trying to regulate weren’t helping. Recognizing your struggling he grasped your hands, holding them the way he did when you first fought to retell the tale that imprisoned one of the most infamous killers to exist. Rubbing his rough thumbs over your knuckles in comforting circles encouraging you to slowly inhale and exhale.
“They did that to the ones they wanted dead for years. They told me, the last thing they wanted to do was harm a hair on your head.”
The tears were running as Choso pulled you into a hug, listening to you blubber about it being a lie.
“I think if they wanted you dead they would have done so by now.”
His assessment was crude but the truth. Deep down underneath the fear and noxious feeling of encountering those two again, there was still disbelief. A part of you that always denied that the friends you’d seen reveal themselves to you would ever think about reducing you to one of their many victims. Perhaps for your sanity, you’ll have to trust in the friends you know. The friends that confided in such a secret all that time ago.
“So your brother…anyone else?”
He knew what you meant and as he lit a cigarette; he answered with a puff.
“The whole town. Practically wiped out the entire workforce with the stunt they pulled.”
He inhaled with a wince, taking in another painful huff. He hated smoking.
“If they did do anything the whole town would be completely at their mercy…”
Reaching into his coat pocket, you pulled out a cigarette for yourself swiping his lighter to enjoy your cancer stick. Both of you fill the inside of the car with your despair, smoking your anxieties into something smaller. Hopefully weaker.
“Well if it’s for your brother and the whole town then I guess it’s a worthy sacrifice.”
Both of you joylessly laughed, taking long pained drags of the sticks—all the while licking at the tears that escaped your blinking eyes. A couple more puffs of smoke were had before Choso pulled back onto the road.
For whatever reason things were lighter as if that would take away to the possibly dangerous future you’d be subjected to.
“When you can, you should take Itadori to see the city. That’ll really change his life.”
“Any places you recommend?”
“Do you want a list?”
It was nice to fill the space with something positive—a rare activity you two partook in after the court case. It was nice to do it one last time.
The drive wasn’t much longer, eventually pulling up to a small neatly painted house with no car in sight, if it weren’t for Choso’s intel you’d have been none the wiser.
As he put the car in park, he looked at you. As sincerely as he’s always done despite visible tiredness in his face. His arm wrapped around yours with a hesitant hand.
“If you really don’t want to do this you don’t have to. You can punch me and we can say you ran off into those cornfields we passed by earlier.”
Mustering a smile as you leaned your head against his chest, “I’ll be fine Choso. Say ‘hi’ to Yuji for me.”
He helped you get your bags, knocking in a specific tune on the door. The door opened and an old woman revealed herself, welcoming you with a warm smile inviting you both inside. You looked to Choso in confusion as you followed closely behind leading you to a parlour filled with hideously dated and flowery decor. She insisted you sit, promising to fix some lemonade for you both.
“Oh, young man can I have your help with this? I’d get it myself if it weren’t so high.”
Choso hurriedly followed after her, sending a look for you to sit and relax.
This felt weird throwing off your expectations for your meeting with the murderous duo. Managing the burden of a fate to come you allowed your hands and eyes to wander. Letting your eyes glaze over with thoughts of how old the intricate wooden end stand is. Playing with the frayed edges of the quilt decoratively draped over the couch. It kept you distracted long enough, finally breaking out when you saw the long and pale hands coming to wrap around your chest. In a perfect world, it would have been Choso being oddly affectionate but these fingers were longer than his, sculpted to the very knuckle to become a living weapon. Accompanied by an inhale against the top of your head the owner of these hands pulled you further against the back of the couch; further pulling you into the warm soft and sturdy chest of a man you’d feared. A curtain of silky black hair much longer than you remembered dropped just past your shoulders, daring you to look up at its owner who refused you the luxury of space as the shadow-colored eyes stared deeply into yours.
“Hello, Dove. You look radiant as ever.”
Velvety as the day he testified and was sentenced was Suguru Geto. Older but just as handsome as the day you met; exuding the air of gentleness that made anyone feel at ease. That is until he didn’t need to. Those hands long and spindly trailed from your chest and on to your neck tracing your collarbone through your clothes. Finally resting on the middle of your neck, index fingers toying with the organ underneath your skin.
“Hum for me Dove.”
It was just like old times, unwilling to speak and yet plagued by the demand into those dark eyes to give something. So you hummed broken and uneven, in your ears it was hardly the symphony he claimed it was. But it didn’t really matter what you thought now.
“That’s my Dove.”
He annunciated proudly moving his hands to hold your face up, keeping you in place as he softly explored your mouth. Nibbles were soft but urgent as though there was a timer for this reacquaintance unlocking the memories of this exact kiss.
Under the stairwell after a big game, the first after the reveal. Satoru was insistent you come, unable to goad a word out of you, he had you hum. A promise to come to their game and cheer them on. As per usual they won, despite suffering from so many late players the team relied on their surviving all-star players. Unsurprisingly Satoru was majorly credited with their win, allowing Suguru to pick you out from the cheering crowd leading you under the stairwell.
“Aren’t you proud of me, Dove? Show me how proud of me you are.”
The kiss was just like this, still soft but needy. Hands methodically wandering to allow for an opening; some easier access to melt his body into yours in the minutes he had before the others came. It was just like this.
“Aw gorgeous, you missed us?”
Playful as always and hands eagerly running under the hem of your shirt to rub thumbs along the soft expanse of your skin. Pecks in between the hands creeping higher all the while Sugure tightens his grip on your jaw a warning not to forget him. Not ever again.
When Suguru does pull away it’s to suck at your neck, holding you by your shoulders as you’re hands wiggle with uncertainty. Even subconsciously you hesitate to have your hands reciprocate while the two assaulted you with kisses that were getting rougher by the minute. Satoru ignored Suguru when he climbed up higher to meet your lips; and worked to intertwine his fingers with yours. With another attempt, he roughly pulled at Suguru’s lips with his teeth demanding they share a deep kiss of their own before returning to you.
“Oh Gorgeous we’ve been waiting to do this since forever.”
Two more final pecks from each of them, allowed you to breathe leaving you limp and pliable for the especially touchy Gojo Satoru who slotted you into his lap as he settled onto the older couch. Suguru sat closely his arm reaching over the top of the couch to let his hand rub at your neck once again.
“Missed you at the airport.”
The pit in your stomach returned at the loaded judgment and came with a pinch into your side. Under Suguru’s scrutinizing gaze and the feeling of Satoru’s eyes from behind you, had you hoping to defend yourself.
“I thought you were going to kill me.”
You said it with attempted laughter, begging for the laughter of the killers you’ve feared for years–all to confirm that still wasn’t the plan.
Suguru in his forever-contained demeanor sent you a smile with half-lidded eyes. The most unclear answer to the anxiety that hadn’t rested even with the butterflies of kissing these two again. The vibration of a laugh from behind wasn’t an answer either and neither were the muscular arms circling you.
Suguru released your neck, and brought his hand to hold up his head,” So you and the detective. Did you get together, after I left?”
The growl behind his smile reminded you of why it took so much courage to speak out. Something you bore witness to since the couple decided to reveal themselves to you. Not only for the fear of ending up like their victims but for the entirely personal punishment only Suguru in all his infinite fury could conjure.
“No! I’ve been single this whole time.”
That got you a squeal from Satoru who lightly squeezed you tightly into him giving light pecks to your neck. Not stopping anytime soon you turned your attention back to Suguru, who still didn’t look pleased.
“Hm, I’m not convinced.”
The nonchalant claim made you feel like crying again. You remember this conversation when it came to an old friend. Even when you pleaded, silently albeit he’d scoff and smile at you while he remained ‘unconvinced’. Kissing your forehead before leaving to claim another victim for the masked killer.
“He brought you to me …he-he convinced me to talk.”
That wasn’t true. It was you. Through a month of self-care and therapy, you were able to muster the ability to speak again. Choso was great support but it was you who did it. You who gained the courage to move away and restart your life away from the memories of your serial killer boyfriends. Speaking of, you whimper at the sting of pain along your neck.
Straining your gaze to look at the man whose admiring the mark on your neck. Despite the loving caressing of his hand along your neck, the glare of Satoru Gojo was just as frightening as the killer sitting across from you.
“I don’t know I think that’s all the more reason!”
You couldn’t restrain yourself from silently pleading with Suguru looking deeper into the house where Choso disappeared with the older woman. Suguru sent a hand through his unrestrained hair as he sighed.
“I’m not pleased with you (Y/n). Telling on us like you did someone’s got to pay.”
You could hear Gojo smirk behind you.
“So what do you say, babe round 3 of our favorite Halloween Night?”
Suguru released his locks as he mockingly stuck his nose to the sky,“I’ll think about it.”
Suddenly the rickety old house shook from a plane overhead; thinking nothing of it you expectantly looked at Suguru who seemed to be debating. Only for him to abruptly stand and make his way to the door. Satoru hopped up with you in tandem refusing to let you walk on your own without him clinging onto you.
They both made their way to the back porch where the very plane you’d refused to ride a day ago was releasing its stairs. With the steps fully extended Satoru tugged you along as Suguru began to ascend. With the question of Choso’s life still hanging in the balance you dug your feet into the ground pointing at the house which Satoru barely acknowledged until you’ve turned yourself in his direction.
“Wait! My bags! Choso has my bags!”
That had Suguru coming down the steps faster than you could turn; feeling that familiar grip on your jaw as he forced your gaze on him.
“You don’t get to choose if we bring that with you. I didn’t get to choose what I got to bring when you sent me to that cell. ”
You held your gaze as you stood your ground, “Not him. Be mad at me! Not him.”
For a moment those black depths flashed with something violent; a glimpse of what hundreds had seen in their last moments.
It wasn’t for you but how could you know that?
Suguru sighed lessening his grip on your jaw, using both his hands to hold your face. Running his thumbs along the creases of your face as if he had to remember the texture of your skin against his own. Since his reunion with Gojo, he fought tears, pulling you into a hug. One you returned on instinct, somehow even with the blood splattered on his face with the mask of a serial killer hanging on his head he was still your friend. As Gojo closed in from behind you you reminded that you felt the same for him; more than certain that you’d be rendered the same helpless witness to the deaths of so many friends. It would always end this way.
with them at the end of the blade, with the power they’d always have.
Satoru settled a hand on your waist and his other on Suguru’s face, his smile as warm and welcoming as the day you first met.
“Come on you two. Let’s spend this Halloween together. We’ll figure out the rest later.”
Finally entering the plane a part of you felt like you lost. That you succumbed to the imbalanced rulers of the system. But the largest part of you knew since you’d gotten involved with these two, you’d been given the footprint of a giant and it really would be better for everyone if you let them win especially this once.
At least with certainty, you can say this Halloween no one else is dying because of you.
#lovelyyandereaddictionpoint#yandere x you#yandere x reader#yanderexrea#yandere#yanderes#yandere jjk#yandere gojo satoru#yandere jujutsu kaisen#yandere gojo#jjk fic#yandere suguru geto#yandere geto#yandere stsg#yandere satoru gojo#yandere satosugu#yandere satoru x reader#yandere poly#yandere polyamory#yandere poly x reader#yandere polyamorous#jogo#jujutsu kaisen jogo#jjk#jjk x reader#jjk gojo#gojo satoru#satoru gojo#jujutsu kaisen#jjk halloween
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'88 Ford | Kita Shinsuke
chapter four | rattled
masterlist
note: no smau parts in this one, a bit short but trust
track four . . . if I had a lover
"Fuck it," he heard her grumble, voice holding an annoyance that was easily apparent. Quickly hearing the passenger door swing open and close just as fast; leaving the man in the truck with a loss for words. Whisking herself out in the elements like a bat out of hell, seemingly, without a second thought. I'm so in over my head.
The pair had sat in the truck for over twenty minutes, rain still beating down with no end in sight as it continued on; even through heavy rain hitting the windshield, he knew the gravel road was filled with puddles by now. But those twenty minutes were spent in brief conversation, the eb and flow choppy and inconsistent as both parties weren't entirely sure of what to say - until a match was lit to the fire under her.
So he watched in confusion, a bit too awestruck to move, as the woman passed in front of his truck to the old one. Stubborn as a mule and running off of sheer spite of the day, but finding himself completely enthralled regardless by her. Looking at her in uncertainty before it quickly turned to concern, what on earth is she doing? Grabbing the handle of his door, and pushing, he was met with the onslaught of rain, hitting him hard as he got out, neglecting his hat and all else.
Grey hairs stuck to his face almost immediately, forcing him to rake a hand through his hair as so prevent it from falling in his eyes. And he pulled at his sleeves more, putting a stop to, even a bit of, the feeling of fabric glued to skin. "Ma'am?" Confusion intertwined within the timbre of his voice.
But she ignored him, or rather didn't hear him over the shower from above; as she decided that now was the perfect time to fix the, god forsaken, tire. So as he neared her, boots stepping in puddles and mud, making a mess of himself, he called her name. A name he barely used with her as he thought it was too informal. Too caught up in concern to even realize until it left his lips, rolling off his tongue far too easy than he would have liked it to. That got her attention.
"I'm gonna' lose it if I sit in that truck any longer, Shinsuke," groaning loudly within her words as she picked up the wrench from the old truck's bed. "And there's no time like the present, that way no one has t'come back for this piece of shit." I didn't need your dad's luck for ripping into me, I needed it for this.
"But it's stormin'," he reasoned, his voice holding a twang more than before, but still calm and gentle. "You're getting soaked." She'll be the death of me. But, god, he couldn't lie to himself knowing there was a part of him that liked it; craved it, even, a determination that was fiery and loud - completely unswaying.
"As if I wasn't drenched to begin with," countering with a hum. "And so are you, if you haven't noticed," and he watched her eyes drag down him before returning to his face. Her glances weren't unusual to the man, often brushing them off resiliently as to not rile his conscience. But, good lord, his, normally, collected self felt rattled at her look alone.
You're too pretty to be looking at me like that. Thinking to himself as he then turned his eyes to the tire she wished to fix. If he didn't look at her then, possibly, the feelings would go away. It felt wrong, sinful, out right irresponsible, to look at her in the moment; clothes clinging to her from the weather, and water hitting her only to drip down. "Then at least let me help you, ma'am" he offered, knowing damn well her mind was set; and to further his mind as far away as he could from the latter thought. "I don't want t'see you get hurt."
"Then get over here," an exasperated resonance leaving her in a sigh. "If you just stood there and watched, I woulda' kicked your ass myself."
taglist under cut
@wyrcan @chizunata @seroh @chemiru @froyaoya
@h3xi2g0n3 @localgaytrainwreck @mollyrolls @causenessus @diorzs
@rory-cakes @phoenix-eclipses @pattys-got-cakes @girlkissersco
@jaynawayna
#haiykuu#haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu!! x reader#haikyuu smau#haikyuu!! smau#hq x reader#hq smau#kita shinsuke#shinsuke kita#kita shinsuke x reader#shinsuke kita x reader#hq kita#haikyuu kita#series: 88 ford
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𝙝𝙚𝙮 𝙜𝙤𝙤𝙙 𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙠𝙞𝙣’
𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. truth or dare doesn’t go according to plan with friends, now you’re forced to humilate yourself infront of your dream guy.
wc . around 1,133
tags fluff. suguru geto x reader. populargeto! x reader. alternative au. non-curse au. highschool au.
。・::・゚★,。・::・゚☆ 。・::・゚★,。・::・゚☆。・::・゚★,。・::・゚☆ 。・::・゚★,。・::・゚☆。・::・゚
Squealing and giggling erupts from behind you as you peer past the lockers to look at… him.
In your school, there were the two clear hottest guys, no questions asked, no doubts raised. Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru being the hottest guys in school was a straight up fact. Gojo is notorious for his swarm of fangirls who practically bend over backwards for his attention. On the other hand, Geto's admirers are more reserved, content with hushed whispers and longing glances at his undeniable beauty.
Sure some eye candy is nice to look at here and there in the corridors after a long depressing school day, but Geto isn’t just a piece of candy to you. He’s a beautifully sculpted man with luscious raven locks, gracefully tied up into his sexy man bun. Geto stands at a staggering height of six foot three; his presence you could practically feel, his presence lingers even after he's gone—a mature, grown aura that captivates. And it doesn’t stop there because his voice is something else. Dreamy, gentle, manly, deep, silky. Simply eargasmic.
You’ve grown up to be somewhat decent. You’ve finally got that hair thing down and your shape is finally pulling through. It’s not that you were hideous. Heavens no. It was just slightly hard for you to feel confident in yourself when you’re crush was that and you were well, you.
But the real kicker, the thought that nags at you constantly is the fact that you’re a year younger than him. It was well known that Geto Suguru would only go for older girls and settle for those in the same year as him. And here you are, a year below, hopelessly smitten.
Every time you see him you’re melting and you can't help it. You’ve tried picking yourself up from this “crush” because it was written in the stars for the both of you to be apart. But according to fate, it was destiny for you to meet.
Fast forward to last week, getting drunk at your friend's house, the day rolling into the obscure night and the drunken giggles rolling past your lips, sobriety now far gone between you and your friends. The night seems to come to an end, that is until one of your friends gains the clever idea to play the game of truth or dare. At first, all is smooth sailing until your turn and your foolish decision to pick a dare.
“I dare you to go up to Geto tomorrow and tell him a total of three pick-up lines.”
Back then it seemed like a piece of cake, confidence was surging through you, ebbing and flowing through your veins. “Just walk up to him? I do that in my dreams, how much harder could this be?”
So much harder. It’s almost as if you’re going to throw your heart up with how much leaping it’s doing. You switch from balling your hands into fists and stretching them out again, relieving them of their tension. Thickly, you swallow once more, your friend Hanna growing impatient.
“Listen, if this dare doesn’t get done I will be posting that picture of you .” The issue with what Hanna has just said is that she does have quite a few followers and th possibility of most of the school laying eyes on that picture of you. You shudder.
“Okay. I’m going in,” you state, gathering all your courage and taking a prideful step forward to the boy standing near the window in the hallway. With a step forward you immediately scurry back into your hiding place. Your friends collectively groan at your cowardice.
“It’s okay girl, we’re your friends.” Hana says, holding you in a hug, “which is why we need to give you a push.” Suddenly you’re being shoved halfway into the hallway, there’s no escaping now. You don’t even have time to scowl at Hana, especially now that your body has switched into fight for flight, moving on its own accord.
You never thought the day would come when you would be so close to your upperclassman, all up in his glory, it was truly a moment to cherish. The sun shines down on his relaxed face, a strand of his jet-black hair swiftly falling in front of his deep eyes. He seems even more charming up close.
“Can I, help you?” he asks and you’re snapped back into reality. Great way to start by looking like a lost puppy.
“Geto right?” your question comes out broken and unsure. The guy doesn’t even verbally respond, he just nods slowly.
“You look so familiar like the man of my dreams? Oh, wait u are. ” That didn’t even sound like a pick-up line, sounded as if you were genuinely wondering. Pure terror fills your body upon noticing Geto’s frozen and perplexed expression. Again, your body just seems to be working on its own, “I think there is something wrong with my eyes. I can’t seem to take them off you.” This is followed by another treacherous and painstaking silence for a response. With a deep breath, you shamefully utter the last one. “Are u a fireman because you came in hot and left me-“
“WOAH. Let’s pause on that.” the guy shifts from his stance from leaning against the wall to standing more upright. You’ve shocked this man to his core. Pure dread fills your body and you seem to sink into yourself in shame. This was utterly humiliating.
“I’m sorry.” you squeak, keeping your head down and spinning on your heels ready to sprint yourself out of the country, but a strong force stops you from going any further. I hadn’t taken long for the boy to realise you had been sent by your friends from behind the lockers. He felt remorse for you. Spinning you around on your heel, with just his hand on your wrist, you’re pulled closer. Only slightly; you still notice.
Precariously and teasingly he looks behind you at your friends, before redirecting his attention to you. “How do you spell me?”
This surprising question snaps you out of your trance.
“Wait what? M-E.”
“Wrong.” his lips pull into a playful smirk, yet your eyebrows knit in confusion.
“M-E-D.”
“M-E-D? but there isn’t a D is Me.”
He pulls closer, leaning towards your ears and savouring the moments of emptiness and silence “Yea not yet.” he chuckles lightly and pulls away. It's embarrassing how long it takes for you to understand the joke, but once it clicks, well the realisation is evident on your face as it flushes in embarrassment. The languid boy winks and walks away, “Loved meeting you pretty girl,” he calls out as he walks away, his voice carrying down the corridor, “hope to see you soon.”
Oh. Well, that was unexpected.
。・::・゚★,。・::・゚☆ 。・::・゚★,。・::・゚☆。・::・゚★,。・::・゚☆ 。・::・゚★,。・::・゚☆。
not my best work icl.
#anime#fluff#fanfiction#fanfic#geto suguru#jjk geto#geto x reader#jjk suguru#getou suguru x reader#jujutsu kaisen suguru#geto#jujustu kaisen#x reader#wattpad#ao3
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Prompt 28 - Dogwalker Au
@wolfstarmicrofic April 28, word count 785
Remus relished his daily walk through the little park beside his house. It was a good way to blow away the cobwebs and stretch out his aching muscles from being hunched over his desk for the last eight hours researching.
Sometimes, when he was too tired to walk, he’d just sit on one of the benches and people watch. He liked to make up little stories about them. Like today, there was a red-headed mum pushing her son around in his pushchair. She’d had a long day fighting off the evil wizards that plagued this land and wanted to ask the fairies to protect her son. But at what cost? He thought to himself, chuckling to himself at the absurdity of his made-up world.
He spotted a pudgy man who was grasping his briefcase to his chest, his eyes darting this way and that. He was clearly a spy and was on his way to divulge key information to his boss. Remus couldn’t quite decide if he was going to the good or the bad guys, but before he could come to a conclusion, a flash of long curly hair caught his attention, as a man so beautiful Remus instantly decided he was a siren with legs, raced across the grass after a huge black dog.
“Come back Pads!” The man yelled as he tripped over his own laces, falling over. He jumped back to his feet, spitting out a mouthful of grass and dirt before lunging forward again after the great beast. They soon ran out of sight, only the dog’s playful barks letting Remus know he was still on the loose.
Remus groaned as he stood, his joints popping and creaking as he set off back to the entrance. He’d gone maybe two or three paces when his feet were suddenly not beneath him. He landed on the stony path with a loud thump. Pain instantly sped up his back and he winced until it ebbed. “I am so sorry!” He heard the man calling as his heavy boots clumping towards him.
The dog, hanging its head a bit as though it knew it had done wrong, came and lay down next to Remus, dropping its huge head into his lap.
The man got to him, breathless and hugging his knees as he drew in lungfuls of air. “I. Am. So. Sorry.” He said again between breaths. He held up the snapped lead. “He chewed through it when I wasn’t looking and took off. Normally he’s really good, but today, I honestly don’t know what got into him.”
Remus had barely heard what the man had said, he’d been concentrating on the way his full lips moved around the words.
“Hi, I’m Remus,” He said, wanting to introduce himself. The man blinked at him and then grinned.
“Hi, I'm Sirius and that clown is Sir Paddington the third or, as I like to call him, Oi come back!” Remus looked down at the now calm dog and patted his head gently.
“Well, hello, Sir Paddington.”
“The third,” Sirius prompted.
“The third.” Remus smiled as Sirius manoeuvred himself beside Remus. He looped the handle end of the ruined lead through the dog’s collar and slid the lead part through it, fashioning a new restraint.
“There, I might actually be able to get you home now.” Sirius chastised the dog. He yanked the lead to get the dog on its feet and then offered a hand to Remus, who was still sitting on the ground. “Can I help you home first? Get you a coffee to apologise?” Remus shook his head and pointed at the house across the park.
“That’s me there. No coffee shops in between, I’m afraid.” He joked. Then an idea sparked in his mind. “But you can come and make me one if you want.” The man and his dog intrigued him. The siren with legs and his furry pal. Perhaps he’d sung a song to enrapture Remus and that’s why he’d offered. Remus put aside his silly stories and waited for Sirius’s answer.
“Yeah, go on then.” Sirius grinned. “Can this one come as well or should I take him home first?” Remus thought that Pads probably didn’t get invited to many places due to his size.
“As long as he doesn’t eat my books, he’s more than welcome.”
“Hear that, Pads? I think you just made a friend.” Sirius scratched his dog behind the ears.
They walked the short distance to Remus’s house, chatting and getting to know each other. Remus and Sirius spent many afternoons after their first encounter walking Pads around the park, though Sirius had bought a metal lead now, one that Pads couldn’t chew through.
#wolfstar#wolfstar microfic#wolfstar fic#wolfstar au#remus lupin#sirius black#remus john lupin#sirius orion black#sir paddington the third#lily evans#harry potter#baby harry potter#peter pettigrew#remus x sirius#sirius x remus#sirius and remus#remus and sirius#look out remus#sirius learn to tie your damn shoes#bad pads heal#is sirius the little mermaid? Its a possibility#dog walker au
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Don't go where I can't follow
Some younger Ed and Izzy today. Also on AO3.
“I’m fine Izzy,” Ed said and Izzy knew that he was lying. Ed looked pale and no one could ignore his coughing and sniffling. Edward was getting sick and he was trying to push through things.
Izzy knew inevitably Ed would go down and be in bed for a few days. It had happened before but things were different now. Before Izzy would take time to take care of Ed and protect him from their shipmates and the like. But now Edward was Captain and a Captain couldn’t be seen to be weak.
“If you get feeling any worse, you should go to the cabin,” Izzy said, hoping Ed would catch his meaning.
“Don’t worry so much Iz,” Ed said. But Izzy did worry. Edward hadn’t been Captain very long and there was still quite a lot of jockeying for position and power on the ship. Izzy didn’t put it past a few to try to mutiny or try to harm Ed. He couldn’t trust anyone on the ship.
Ed wasn’t up the next morning and Izzy knew why. He told the crew to get back to work and went to the Captain’s Cabin and found Ed in bed.
“Iz…”
“I knew you were getting sick, Captain.”
“Mmmm.”
“Don’t worry, I’ve got you Ed.”
Izzy brought Ed food and drink and medicine and kept guard. From what he knew the sickness was likely to last a few days.
A few days passed and Ed only got sicker and Izzy got very, very worried. Ed burned with fever, he was delirious most of the time and he was having trouble breathing. Izzy made sure Ed was propped up in bed but still he was fighting for air.
Izzy did what he could. He gave Ed herbs and made him drink and put a cool cloth on his head. He didn’t know what else to do and as Ed lingered Izzy knew he would have to get help.
The doctor he managed to find wanted a ridiculous amount of money to treat a pirate and keep quiet but Izzy paid him.
“He has pneumonia, and it’s bad.”
“What can I do?”
“I have some medicine but he’ll likely die.”
Izzy paid the man even though he wanted to run him through and throw him overboard for even thinking that Edward would die. Edward couldn’t die. They had…they had fought so hard for what they had…they had so much more to do and Izzy couldn’t do it alone.
“Iz?”
“I’m here Ed.”
“Can’t breathe…”
“I know Ed, you just need to rest and keep trying.”
“Feel like I’m dying.”
“You’re not,” Izzy said, maybe a little too fast and Ed looked at him until he continued, “Not yet.”
Izzy wasn’t going to give up on Edward. He was going to fight and hopefully that would make Edward want to fight.
Izzy slept in the Captain’s cabin to make sure he could jump to Edward’s every need. He was there to protect and take care of him. Every time he woke he got up and checked to make sure Edward was alright. He could often hear Edward breathing before he saw him.
“I’m here Ed,” Izzy said as she changed the cloth on his forehead.
Izzy woke a few hours later to Edward having a coughing fit. Izzy jumped up and lifted Edward’s chest and sat behind him. Edward continued to cough violently. He was barely able to get any air into his lungs. He was trembling and pale. Izzy could feel how fast Ed’s heart was beating.
“Ed,” Izzy said trying to keep his own voice steady, “Just stay calm and try to breathe, you can do this.”
Edward continued to cough and fight for air and there was nothing Izzy could do but hold him and encourage him.
The coughing fit ebbed and Edward slumped back against Izzy. Ed moaned. Ed wheezed and his breathing slowed far too much. Ed’s pulse was unsteady and weak. Ed seemed to not want to breathe at all.
Ed took a breathe and let it out. He didn’t take another.
“Edward please breathe, please,” Izzy pleaded. Edward took a breath. He would take a few breaths and then pause and Izzy would plead for him to breathe again. Izzy didn’t know how long Edward could keep it up.
Izzy started to come to terms with the fact that Edward might die in his arms, and soon. Izzy didn’t know what to do, there really wasn’t anything he could do. He would stay with Edward until he was gone or until he was well enough to be on his own.
“Please don’t go where I can’t follow,” Izzy said. He and Edward had been together for a decade already and Izzy thought they had their whole lives ahead of them to carve a place out for themselves in the world. They had just started building up a legend for Edward, a way to keep them safe or at least safer in an unsafe world and profession. Edward was…he was everything to Izzy and Izzy didn’t know how he was going to go on if Edward didn’t make it.
Izzy spent the rest of the night urging Edward to keep breathing and fearing that any one of the labored breaths might be Edward last. He didn’t know how much longer Edward could live and though he didn’t want Edward to suffer he couldn’t bring himself to let Edward go.
Izzy was exhausted by morning but Edward was still breathing. Izzy was dazed as he ordered the crew around and got some water and medicine for Edward. He paused at the cabin door. Edward might have passed while he was doing his duty. Izzy took a deep breath and entered.
Edward was still alive, and Izzy thought he might be going crazy but maybe, just maybe his breathing was a little better.
Izzy slept beside Edward that night, just in case. He fell asleep hoping that Edward was getting stronger like Izzy thought.
Izzy wasn’t crazy. Over the next few days Edward started to improve slowly. The coughing slowed down, his breathing eased a little bit. When Edward’s fever broke Izzy thought he might cry with joy.
When Edward woke up Izzy did cry.
“Iz?”
“I thought you were going to die,” Izzy sniffled, “I was so scared.”
“I’m sorry Iz, I think I’m going to be alright.”
“You fucking better,” Izzy said.
Ed chuckled, “I’m fine Izzy.”
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Chapter 12: I act like dead weight // cause I love you
Water rushed into Martyn’s lungs as he tried to wrestle the thing off of his back, but it only latched in deeper.
Words: 1336
Masterpost | Chapter 1 | Chapter 11
Water rushed into Martyn’s lungs as he tried to wrestle the thing off of his back, but it only latched in deeper. It’s needle-like teeth ripping a chunk of flesh out. He elbowed it and heard a horrifically loud screech which echoed throughout the water. With his ears ringing and completely disoriented from it, he pushed away and turned back to see it. It looked like a person, but it wasn’t. Dark black eyes stared back at him from blue-tinted skin. It had fins on each of its limbs and a thick tail which curled behind it in the water.
“Destroyer,” it hissed at him through the water in Ocearian. “I can’t wait to treat you how your kin treated my world.”
“Wait!”
.
The water from the stream is cold and fresh as he rests in it, letting it run over his body and pool into the lake further downstream. The bruises scattering his body are a soft yellow colour the days having stolen both the pain and deep colour from them. He’s nestled himself deep into the stream, watching the sunlight filter down through the water barely reaching him.
It was peaceful, up until a small pebble slammed into his chest. Sputtering, he pulled himself up out of the stream and gasped in greedy mouthfuls of air. “You asshole!” He threw the pebble back, completely missing the woman crouching down right next to him. “I was having a nap!”
“Sure thing fish-boy,” the woman giggled as she ruffled his damp hair which stuck down flat to his forehead. “Anyways, it’s almost sundown and if I have to drag you back home spattered with arrows again, I will steal your cookies.”
“Netty, you can’t do that to a man!” He couldn’t hide the smile which stretched across his face. “Void, you’re the worst,” He pulled himself up onto the shore.
“You’re the worst too,” She smiled as he kissed her gently.
.
Martyn was missing by the time the three of them had gotten down the path to the cliff’s edge. His heavy worn shoes were placed off to the side neatly, his cigarette case was open and a still smouldering one was sitting on the sandy ground abandoned. The scene looked completely normal, completely average.
If it wasn’t for the splattering of blood and the strange clawed footprints on the sandy ground.
“Fuck,” Doc broke the silence between them all. “Something attacked him.”
“Every evidence said that this place was completely peaceful!” Zedaph was chewing on one of his fingernails and was probably only seconds away from full-blown panic. “The information we were given must’ve been wrong!”
Jimmy wrapped his wings loosely around Zedaph, “Hey, hey, it’s going to be okay,” He wasn’t entirely sure of what he was saying, but it helped. “Whatever creature it was probably sent them both into the water, and Martyn is the best swimmer I’ve ever known.”
“Whatever thing attacked him had webbed feet,” Doc noted from his position crouching down to look at the footprints closer. “Probably an aquatic creature, probably trying to drown him.”
Zedaph made a high-pitched pining sound as he pressed himself closer into Jimmy’s wings. “Yeah, I don’t think that’s gonna work,” He shrugged.
“What?”
.
The creature stared at Martyn for a few seconds, a look of pure and utter confusion plastered along its slightly human face. “You…” it trailed off, pointing at him with one long clawed finger. The claw was sharp and almost certainly deadly, if the creature had gotten the chance to he would’ve been dead by now. “You speak the language of my kin.”
The creature’s eyes flickered over Martyn, floating awkwardly in the water, blood gently ebbing out of the deep gash in his shoulder. Its eyes eventually landed on his gills on his neck. They were barely open, having dried out from far too long without submersion and the creature made a small, pitiful noise.
“You are kin?” It asked, quietly and as if it didn’t want to realise what was going on. It darted towards Martyn who held his arms up in front of him, but after a few seconds where it didn’t attack, he paused. The creature was staring down at him, fidgeting with its hands and its long tail flashing behind it occasionally. “Hurt you,” Dark tears were drifting off of its face and into the water around them.
It pressed a hand against his shoulder and pain blossomed out making him gasp. The creature flinched away, its hand stained a deep red. “It’s okay,” he managed to say, cringing at his horrific accent. Void, he hadn’t spoken Ocearian in years at that point. “I need to leave now.”
“Why?” It frowned.
“My”— he paused, unable to find the right word in Ocearian, —“kin,” he settled on.
The creature broke eye contact. “Will they hurt me?”
“No!” He assured her. “They’re worried about me. Probably.”
“Oh,” The creature shifted awkwardly before grabbing hold of his arm and beginning to swim to the surface. Before he could even protest or realise what was happening, sunlight was beating down on him and he was gasping at the fresh air. The creature nodded at Martyn in goodbye before turning away and disappearing back into the deep water.
“Martyn!” He heard Jimmy call from the distant shore. “Are you okay? What happened?”
.
The sharp sting of the disinfectant made Martyn hiss out a breath of pain. “We could just wash it out with water, don’t gotta use that painful shit,” That statement was met with an annoyed glare from Doc who then proceeded to go back to working on his shoulder.
“You’re the one who got bit by a sea monster,” he grumbled, rolling his eyes as he pulled a length of thin thread. “Lean your head to the side, and this is going to hurt.”
True to his word the small prick of the needle sliding into his flesh fucking hurt. “Fucking hels,” He screwed his eyes shut and clenched his hands into fists, focusing on the controlled pain of his nails digging into his palms. Yeah it added more pain to an already excruciating experience, but at least this was a pain he was in control of.
“I thought you’d be better with pain,” Doc noted as he pulled the stitch tight and once more slipped the needle into his flesh. “With being someone with no consideration for their wellbeing and all,” Was that a touch of humour that he had in his voice?
“I’m good with pain, when I got adrenaline in my system,” Martyn snorted but quickly winced as another stitch was pulled through his skin. “But void, I never look forward to this shit,” His nails dug in further to his palms.
“I can keep talking, if that helps with the pain?” His voice was quiet as if he was unsure of what he was saying, or even that he was nervous.
“Yeah, yes, do that, fuck that one hurt.”
Doc made a small considering hum before he began to talk. “I guess I’ll tell you a story of a stupid thing I once did. Have you ever been to the HC-08 system? Doesn’t really matter if you have or haven’t for this story I guess. But I spent a good deal of time there, before everything happened.
“But a while back me and a couple friends got into a playful spat with another group there. Started off rather playful of course, but with who we were it ended up in a bit of a system-wide war. Was ridiculous and it all started with someone defacing a garden.
“It ended up being settled via a series of stupid little games, we all were great at making them. Was a good time killer for all of us with nothing to do, which was most of us back then.”
“Did you win?”
Doc snorted. “We came close to, but alas–”
“Alas? Did you seriously just say ‘alas’?”
“Yes, now be quiet I need to finish these stitches.”
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Amnesiac XIII (JJ Maybank x Reader)
WARNINGS: mentions of NON-CON, violence, memory loss, underage drinking, drug use, non canon ages, kook!reader
➥ banner by @maysdigitalarts | divider by @firefly-graphics
We have reached the end! This was so beyond fun to write and I’m glad you guys came on this journey with me. Enjoy!
➥ series masterlist
summary: “There’s something wrong with your love story, baby…”
After a surfing accident leaves you with little to no memory of everything that happened before that day, you start to wonder if the blond in what little memories you do have is the same one who claims to be your boyfriend.
~
You struggled to keep your dress up, holding it to you as you stared out into the water. You felt both numb and nauseous, still trembling even after Rafe’s assault. The man in question was lazily buttoning his shirt, cool and collected like he hadn’t just attacked you on the beach. The minute he was done, you’d tried to run away, but the way your arm stung reminded you of how that had gone.
“Get up.”
You looked up at him from your place on the ground, not having noticed that he’d gotten done fixing himself and was standing now. His blue eyes were as they always were, and there wasn’t a bit of regret in them. Your lips trembled at the guy you’d once considered a friend, both sick and disturbed at how stupid you had been. When you didn’t move, Rafe moved to yank you up, and you hissed.
“So, this is how it’s going to be?” you wondered, wincing with every step. “You’re going to drag me around and only get sex when you hold me down and take it? That seems okay to you?”
He abruptly stopped and yanked you around to stand in front of him, lip curled into a sneer.
“You’re a Kook,” he quietly said. “You were born one, you were raised just like the rest of us, and you didn’t start turning on me until you started hanging around them-.”
“I didn’t turn on you, Rafe! I just realized that none of this matters! None of it,” you said, shaking your head. “Trust funds and Midsummers and private school… It’s all bullshit.”
You didn’t even know why you were having a conversation with Rafe, at all, very much aware of the feel of him dripping down your thighs.
“It mattered before,” he lowly told you, faces inches away from your own. “You were happy with it all before…then you started hanging around them, and you wanted JJ to like you, and all of a sudden you’re ashamed of where you come from.”
You had started shaking your head before he even finished, and Rafe chuckled at that.
“You did,” he sneered, tone mocking. “You wanted to impress him. You wanted him to like you like you liked him-.”
“JJ had nothing to do with it,” you spat. “Its all just…bullshit.”
The events of tonight were starting to catch up with you, and you blinked back tears. You didn’t know if the police actually took Sarah seriously, and you didn’t know if they were even close to finding Rafe’s truck on the side of the road, but everything was fully hitting you now. What if Rafe got you back to his house? What then? What if he prevented you from leaving?
He’d already proven that he had no limits.
With that thought in mind, and suddenly terrified of what else this night had to offer, you leaned in and bit his arm. Hard.
Rafe let you go with a yelp, and sand kicked up around you both as you ran. The half moon and stars in the sky lit your path, and you sobbed at the sound of him following you. The ocean was loud, the waves ebbing and flowing, and you remembered your accident, the sound of the waves that day.
You stumbled back when Rafe grabbed the back of your dress, pulling you against him. His arm snaked around your neck, and he shushed you, turning you around. You struggled against him, vision blurry and legs shaking.
“Stop-.”
He cut himself off when you elbowed him, and you fell out of his hold. You coughed, pressing your hands into the sand to push yourself up. Rafe kicked your legs, forcing you to collapse again, and you screamed when his hands rested on the back of your neck. He kept you beneath him, forcing you onto your back, and you were reminded of what happened only earlier.
You felt tears spill over at the thought of going through that again, but you froze when you realized that wasn’t what was happening.
Rafe had a hand on your neck, holding you down while his other searched around you. You bucked beneath him, hating the look in his eyes right now more than anything else. The moonlight shone down on him, lighting his hair as it hung into his face. When he found what he’d been looking for, he moved slow, careful. He was still on top of you, and with your tearful eyes, you saw him lift his hand.
Your eyes widened.
“It’ll be okay…”
“Rafe.”
Your voice was panicked, strained with emotion as you squirmed beneath him, reaching for him and his hand.
“You can forget everything again,” he told you, fingers tight on the rock in his hand. “We were happy.”
“No, we-.”
“You loved me…and I loved you…and you didn’t even know who JJ was.”
His voice was even, empty in a terrifying way, and you shrieked, moving your head to the side just as he brought his hand down. The rock caught the side of your ear, and you winced in pain, your ear feeling warm and wet. You were sobbing now, chest tight and heaving.
You screamed again, hitting him and trying to get his arm. You thought about how crazy it was that you’d rater he accidentally kill you than succeed in what he was trying to do. You would rather be dead than endure what you had before, even if you hadn’t known.
“Rafe, please- stop!”
You blocked his arm when he tried to hit you again, and Rafe lifted your head by your neck before slamming it back down again. You squeezed your eyes shut in pain, teeth clenched as you pushed against his arm. You both were breathing hard, and your hand wobbled, and Rafe took the opportunity.
Your head snapped to the side, and your vision spun. The pain in your temple was splitting, and you whimpered in pain, hand dropping. You were still conscious, but your head was swimming, and you drowsily brought your hand up, unsurprised when you felt blood. You were blinking so much, trying so hard to stay awake and clear your head.
When you looked up, you could see that Rafe was lifting his hand again, and you weakly tried to stop it.
However, someone else beat you to it, tackling Rafe to the ground as you groaned. You weakly rolled over, the commotion passing over you as you tried to sit up. It was difficult, and when you looked over, you saw Rafe and JJ rolling around in the sand. JJ was repeatedly hitting the other blond in the face, his other hand fisted into Rafe’s shirt.
Rafe struck JJ in the jaw, and your boyfriend stumbled to the side. You stood on shaky legs just as JJ collapsed with a groan. You stumbled back at Rafe’s approach, pushing against him when JJ’s arm snaked around his neck, pulling him back. That didn’t stop Rafe from grabbing you though, a hand on your throat and his other fisted into your hair.
All 3 of you fell to the ground just as you heard more footsteps approaching. Kie’s voice was loud as she called your name, pulling on you, but Rafe’s hold was tight. You heard John B. and Pope and Sarah too, jumping into the mix. JJ successfully pulled Rafe away, but not before Rafe picked up another rock. You were pushing yourself onto your hands and knees when Rafe swung his arm, and your world spun.
You could hear several people calling your name as you fell back down. There were hands on your face, shaking it and screaming at you. You blinked, your vision fuzzy, but you could make out Sarah and Kie in your sight. You blinked, looking over, and you lazily watched as John B. and Pope pulled an irate JJ off of Rafe’s still form.
“Is he alive?” you heard Pope ask.
“Is she?” you heard Kie scream, her hands on your face.
Your head felt so hot, and you tried to reach up, but Sarah stopped you. Her eyes were wide, and her voice grew fainter as she yelled at you to stay awake. Your hearing was the first to fade, her mouth wide and moving but no sound coming out. You could read her lips though, could see that she was calling JJ, and the only sound you could hear as he replaced her was your heartbeat and your breathing.
He looked distraught, blond hair going every which way and blood on his lip. He was talking to you, shaking you, and your lashes fluttered. You could feel him taking you into his arms, holding you tight, and your head lolled against his chest. You could feel yourself relaxing, always so comfortable around him, and you breathed him in, closing your eyes.
You opened your eyes to stare at the ceiling.
You laid there for a moment, returning to consciousness and realizing there wasn’t a single thing you could recall. Not even your own name. The sterile white walls that met you were anxiety inducing at first, but the more you stared at them, the quicker it took you to realize where you were. You were in a hospital. You couldn’t remember if you had ever been in a hospital before, attempts at trying to search your memories only bringing forth frustration.
Your body felt weird, unused, and you struggled to sit up. Your movements were in time with someone else’s, and you jerked, looking over in shock. Someone was slouched in a chair beside your bed, and you drank them in, curious and alarmed.
His blond hair hung into his face as he slept, visage partially hidden from view, and you tilted your own head. You didn’t recognize him, at all, and you felt your heart skip a beat as you processed being alone with this stranger. As if he felt your eyes on him, he shifted, groaning and stretching.
Like a cat.
Once his eyes met yours though, he paused for half a second before jumping to his feet. The action had you leaning back, watching him in a mixture of wariness and curiosity. The smile that broke out over his face was almost contagious, filled with so much relief. He took a step towards you, and you eyed him with a frown, swallowing.
At the look on your face, the stranger stilled, his own face falling dramatically as he watched you watch him.
“Y/N…?”
Your frown deepened, and you wondered if that was your name. He blinked at you, eyes becoming shiny as he just…stared at you. His own face twitched, and he took a few steps back before telling you he was going to get the doctor and let them know you were awake.
He was gone before you could process his words.
You didn’t miss the way he seemed to want to get away from you, all the more noticeable when the doctor came, and the mysterious guy leaned against the farthest wall. You listened as she told you about some attack you had suffered, someone bashing your head with a rock that she had expected would result in some possible memory loss.
She had carefully explained the situation, and all the while, you didn’t take your eyes off of him.
You couldn’t even really focus on the horror of your attack, on the act of someone wanting to hurt you so badly in more ways than one. She had mentioned something about an arrest, but you didn’t notice the relief you felt at that, only able to focus on one thing she said.
“You gave your boyfriend quite the scare,” she said, making your eyes widen as you looked between her and him. “It took everything in us to convince him you were in good hands, that he could let you go.”
Your lips parted at that, gaze resting on the blond man now.
“You’re my boyfriend?”
You didn’t recognize him one bit, but somehow, you believed it. His expression was pained, and he slowly pushed himself off of the wall with a nod. The doctor spoke again as he slowly approached you.
“Your friends haven’t left the hospital in days,” she said. “They’re eager to see you.”
You had friends…and a boyfriend.
It felt so strange to wake up to a whole life that you didn’t remember. After examining you and writing some things down, she left you two alone. Your…boyfriend looked almost afraid to approach you, but you only found yourself curious, unable to take your eyes off of him. You drank in his blond locks, sun kissed skin, and calm blue eyes as he hesitantly reached for your hand.
“You don’t…you don’t remember me, do you?”
You shook your head, a soft ‘no’ leaving your lips, and for some reason, you felt so bad to say it. He nodded, some strands kissing his forehead as he gently took your hand.
“I’m…I’m your boyfriend,” he told you, thumb brushing over the back of your hand. “JJ.”
You couldn’t stop flipping through all of the photos, obsessed with knowing everything about him that you could. You looked so happy in all of the pictures, and even without your memories, you couldn’t deny that it was all because of JJ. His smile was wide in every picture, eyes sparkling as they looked at the camera…or you.
You were stuck on a particular picture of you laying next to him on the couch, your face smiling at the camera while his was turned towards you, focused.
“Tell me about this one…”
JJ couldn’t hold in his laugh, bringing you a glass of water.
“I already told you about that one.”
“Yeah, but I want to hear it again,” you told him.
He sat down beside you, and you were glad to be alone with him.
Since you’d woken up, you’d been surrounded by nonstop car and attention from your friends. Pope, Sarah, John B., and Kiara. They’d been beside themselves with worry, and as overwhelming and confusing as it all was, you could see how much they loved you, so you forced yourself to take it in stride.
You’d spent months getting to know them all again, months learning the dynamic of your friendships, and discovering everything you could about yourself. There was never a moment where you were alone, and as grateful as you were, you couldn’t deny how badly you wanted to get to know JJ.
Your boyfriend.
“We were drunk, really drunk,” he added. “…and you couldn’t stop laughing. Everything was just so funny to you, and…it was the cutest thing.”
You moved closer, always so eager to hear the memories of you two that you couldn’t remember.
“You wanted to take pictures of us so bad, and you just couldn’t stop laughing. I thought it was so funny…and I couldn’t stop staring. You hadn’t really smiled like that in a while.”
His voice lowered, and you watched his face fall. Sometimes, you noticed that JJ got like that. Real somber and subdued, a stark contrast from how you had grown to know him to be. He’d get this look in his eyes that he was remembering something you didn’t, something he wouldn’t tell you.
Something they all wouldn’t tell you.
You picked up on how careful their conversations seemed to be around you. You noticed the way they changed topics so quickly sometimes or the way you’d catch someone staring at you with a look you couldn’t place, a cross between concern and fear. You noticed the way they treated you like porcelain, like the worst of things had happened to you.
You always noticed that it happened especially when Sarah’s family was mentioned.
Namely her brother.
Rafe.
The thought of the name did make something twist inside of you, although you didn’t know what…or why.
“Will you ever tell me?” you whispered.
JJ came back to the present then, and he frowned at you, touching your cheek.
“Tell you what?”
“What happened to me,” you said, making JJ exhale. “Whatever…makes you look like…that sometimes.”
The corner of JJ’s lips curved up into a bitter smile, and he looked over you with a shake of his head.
“Nah,” he quietly replied. “Probably not.”
In the months since you’d woken up in that hospital, you had grown to trust JJ so much. He looked after you and made you feel so safe. Even without the countless pictures of you two together, happy and in love, you knew he was special to you from the moment your eyes met his.
You reached up, touching the shark tooth on your necklace.
“…okay,” you said with a small smile.
He looked thankful for your response, and you reached for his hand, threading your fingers together. You were slow to lean in and press your lips to his, pulling away and watching him. You were so curious about JJ and your relationship, in more ways than one.
The first time you’d kissed him, two months after you had woken up, he’d looked shocked. It was obvious that he was holding himself back, hesitant to kiss you back, unsure of reaching out and touching you. It had confused you at first, maybe even hurt you a little, but you quickly understood that he didn’t want to overstep. Even though he was your boyfriend, you didn’t remember any of it, so it did make for a tricky situation.
As the months had gone by, you were surprised at just how much you wanted him.
JJ was beautiful. His blond hair was always wild in a way that suited him. His blue eyes reminded you of the sky, and with how much time he spent outside, you understood why his skin was always sun kissed. Sometimes you liked to watch him work on his bike, hunched over the hunk of metal, brows drawn together in concentration.
You found it deeply attractive, and although you understood his reasons for his hesitation, you sometimes wondered if he felt the same about you.
“Do you want a beer?”
You were combing through John B.’s fridge, grabbing a few. JJ had come with you inside, everyone else in the hot tub, and when he didn’t answer you, you looked over your shoulder. You hadn’t expected JJ to be so close, and he startled you, but only for a second before you giggled.
“You okay?” you wondered, tilting your head at him.
Sometimes he’d just look at you in a way you couldn’t name, and todays was one of those times. You bit your lip as he reached out to gently pinch your chin, thumb brushing your skin as he ran his eyes over you. You didn’t move as he came closer, and you actually felt your heart flutter when his lips brushed yours.
You kissed him back, eager and wanting. He tasted like the two beers he’d already had, his bare chest brushing against yours. You reached up, placing your hands on his arms and moving closer. JJ took your face into his hands, deeply inhaling and breathing you in as he moved his mouth against yours. You moaned in the back of your throat, and that seemed to ruin it.
You frowned when JJ all but ripped himself away from you, and you struggled to swallow down the deep rejection you felt. JJ’s hands were on your arms now, holding you at length, and you watched his chest slowly heave.
“Why don’t you want me?”
You hadn’t meant for that to come out, but you found yourself wanting to know JJ in every possible way, and he didn’t seem to be on the same page.
Your boyfriend’s eyes widened, and he blinked, shaking his head. He stepped towards you, closer now, and JJ’s gaze held yours. His face twitched, and it was then that you could see the hunger in his eyes. They weren’t as soft as they normally were, hardened with a desire that you weren’t used to being on the receiving end of.
“You’re crazy if you think I don’t want you,” he chuckled, more so to himself than you.
You smiled.
“Then…what’s wrong?”
He opened his mouth before snapping it closed, frowning now.
“I get that you want to make sure I’m comfortable, but… Sometimes I feel like it’s more than that.”
You thought about that thing that none of them would talk about. You could tell that JJ was thinking about it too, eyes faraway and dim. You watched him swallow, briefly looking down before taking your hand.
“I just don’t wanna rush you,” he whispered.
You resisted pushing for more, accepting his reasons.
You knew that whatever happened must have been bad. After all, you wound up in the hospital because you took a beating to the head. You couldn’t imagine someone hating you enough to do that, and there had been so many moments where you wanted to ask JJ about it, but you didn’t need to be a genius to know that whatever memories you couldn’t remember were painful for him.
JJ’s fingers threaded through yours as he placed kisses along the expanse of your throat. It was raining outside, the sound of it soothing right outside the window. It was open, allowing for a cool breeze to come in, and you were beyond thankful for it. It relieved you, lessening the heated atmosphere and cooling your dewy skin.
JJ’s hips curved into yours, thrusting into you at a pace that made your head spin. You were so hot and cold at the same time, shuddering at the feel of his skin against yours. This was what you had wanted for months, so curious and desperate to feel him against you. You softly moaned his name, briefly thinking on how things had escalated.
A nightmare had woken you up in the middle of the night.
No.
Not a nightmare.
A memory.
You hadn’t known that it was a memory at first, too distraught and terrified. You’d woken up screaming, the vivid image of hands on your neck and teeth on you at the forefront of your mind. JJ had been there immediately, quick to take you in his arms as you screamed. You were more thankful then than ever that his dad had screwed off to God knows where as JJ had put it.
You had sounded like you were being murdered.
“You’re okay, you’re okay,” he had reassured you, rocking you.
You had clung to him like your life depended on it, tears escaping your eyes. You’d been almost inconsolable, unable to stop sobbing. You couldn’t remember much, but the fear and panic and desperation you had felt were palpable. You remembered feeling like you were going to die.
When JJ had pressed kisses over your face, his lips brushed against yours, and you hadn’t even meant to deepen it, just desperate for him. For once, he didn’t pull away, just as eager to kiss you too.
“I’m sorry,” he had murmured into the kiss.
You hadn’t known what he was apologizing for, but he kept repeating it, kissing you and undressing you and apologizing over and over. You knew that you’d had sex with JJ before, but you didn’t remember it, and so this felt like a first. You had gasped when he pushed his way into you, slow and gentle and groaning at the feel of you wrapped around him.
Your entire body buzzed like you were filled with bees, toes curling and eyes rolling. JJ ran his hands over you, fingers sliding along your sweaty skin. There was a breeze that cooled you off, and you sighed, throwing your head back and arching against him. JJ’s hips snapped against yours with purpose, fiercely trying to push you towards the edge.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he breathed, kissing you again.
Why, you wanted to ask, but he kept going.
“I failed you,” he choked out, face falling to the crook of your neck. “I tried, and I didn’t.”
“JJ…it’s okay.”
You didn’t know why you were reassuring him, but he was trembling against you, and you wrapped your arms around him, holding him close.
“I’m here now,” you pointed out, reminding him that you were safe. “So, it’s okay.”
He shook his head, pushing his cock into you and pinning you beneath him. He hit something in you that had you whimpering, legs wrapping around him. When JJ lifted his head, troubled eyes meeting yours, you could see then that he was scared. He wouldn’t take his eyes off of you, touching you like you would disappear at any moment.
Your nails dug into his skin as your stomach clenched, a pressure building deep in your gut.
“I’m not going anywhere,” you whispered. “I promise.”
When you came, JJ did too, collapsing against you and pressing his forehead to your shoulder. His hair was damp with sweat, and you ran your fingers through it, not wanting to let him go anytime soon. As his arms tightened around you, you knew that he felt the same.
You stood in the doorway, watching JJ as he moved about, trying to make you something to eat. His hair was going every which way, reminiscent of how it normally looked after sex. That thought had your eyes drifting to his neck, lingering on the soft bruise you’d left.
You ran your eyes over him, wondering how you had ever forgotten him.
After almost a year with JJ and spending so much time with your friends, you had woken up with a splitting headache. However, it was nothing in comparison to the onslaught of memories bombarding you, making you squeeze your eyes shut.
It had been too much, making your head spin, and you’d almost passed out. It had taken everything in you to stay conscious, swaying in JJ’s bed. Your chest was heaving, and you pressed your hand to it, trying to slow your breathing.
You had remembered it all.
Rafe. The party, the assault, the accident and the first time you lost your memories. You remembered the ‘relationship’ and the violation he’d put you through. You remembered his behavior after you got your memories back…the beach. It had brought tears to your eyes, and you had swallowed down the loudest scream, chest tight.
In that moment, you only wanted your boyfriend, and that was how you found yourself watching him. When he noticed you, he paused, frowning in concern at the look on your face. JJ rushed towards you, gaze inquiring.
“Hey…hey, what’s wrong?”
He touched your face, alarmed at the tears he felt, and he pulled you closer.
“What’s wrong? Is it your head?”
Your lips parted, and you let out a sob, worrying him more.
“You…you saved me,” you choked out.
It took a moment for JJ to process your words, and when he did, his eyes widened.
“What?” his voice was so low, you almost missed it. “You…”
You threw your arms around him, collapsing in his hold, and JJ tightened his own around you. He pressed his face against your hair and neck, breathing you in and squeezing you with his hands. You didn’t know how long you two just stood there, holding each other and basking in the feel of being with each other as you had been before. You remembered him and everything he’d been to you, and you couldn’t stop crying.
“Thank you,” you breathed, thanking him for so much, too much to even vocalize.
“I told you,” JJ whispered, kissing your neck. “…never thank me for that.”
Fin.
#dark!rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x kook!reader#rafe cameron x reader#jj maybank x kook!reader#jj maybank x reader#obx fic#outer banks fanfiction
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Get your fucking hands off my girl | Lip Gallagher x reader
Pairing:Lip x reader Summary: Lip bought festival tickets for himself and his girl, it had been an amazing weekend listening to music, fucking at the camping site where the two of you shared a tent. Everything was great until he had left you alone for two minutes to grab some drinks. When he came back from the bar a guy was getting to cosy with you. He was going to kill him. Word count: 1400 Warnings: protective Lip, fighting, implying sex
Lip's eyes were spitting fire, hands balled at his side and his jaw clenched when the guy’s hands touched the small of your back. He was going to kill him. 'Get your fucking hands off my girl before I make you.' His words made you turn your head, locking eyes and making you feel safe. ‘This is your que to get your hands off of me asshole.’
It had been an amazing day until you felt some hands on your hips at first you thought it was Lip so you didn't say a thing and kept dancing but then he pinched your side and you immediately knew it wasn't him. That wasn't Lip's move. 'What the hell?' You turned around and gave the guy a small push so he had to take a step back and let go of your hips. 'What the fuck do you think you are doing?' A smug smirk hung on his lips as he watched you up and down. 'That man of yours seems a bit boring, not?' He had a cigarette nonchalantly placed between his lips as he spoke. You raised your left eyebrow as you took another step back to create some extra space between the two of you. 'He hasn't touched you during the whole show, what's wrong with him?' You clenched your jaw when you heard his comment towards Lip. He had taken you to your first festival so you could see your favourite band live for the first time. It had been amazing so far, the two of you spend the weekend at the camping site and it was safe to say that he added a new sex spot to your list. Until now.
'Get the fuck away from me, will ya?' Without giving him any extra attention you turned around and returned your attention to the band that was playing on the main stage. You softly hummed along to a song you vaguely recognized from the radio. 'Oh come one baby, I can give you an amazing night that he can't.' His hands founds their way around your waist and turned you around, placing his hands at the small of your back so you couldn't turn away from him 'Okay listen to me asshole, my boyfriend is grabbing us drinks. You better get your dirty hands off of me in the next ten seconds or I'll start screaming that you are assaulting me. Okay? Now back the fuck off. ' You pushed him hard against his shoulder but he didn't move. 'Oh big mistake girl.' His smug grin turned into a spine-shivering look and you started to get worried. Your confidence started to ebbing away when his demeanour changed. He pulled you even closer. You placed your hands on his chest to keep him away from you.
Lip's eyes were spitting fire, hands balled at his side and his jaw clenched when his hands touched the small of your back. He was going to kill him. 'Get your fucking hands off my girl before I make you.' His words made you turn your head, locking your eyes. You sighed in relief when Lip walked towards you throwing the beers he was holding to the ground. 'This is your sign to let go of me.' He looked from you to Lip and back but before he got the chance to say something Lip's hand collided whit his jaw. Lip pulled you out of the way so he could throw another punch at the guy. You just stood there, watching the men struggle for dominance in the fight. It wasn't the first time that you saw Lip like this. When the two of you lived with his family at the Southside he and his brothers got regularly in fights. Back then it was about stupid stuff, material stuff but this was the first time he was actually throwing a punch for you. It was kinda hot. The two of them fell to the ground and Lip managed to get on top of the dude who just had his hands on you. He wasn't smiling anymore but covering his face with his arms. A crowd started to form around the three of you and you were well aware of the fact that Lip could get in trouble for this. Defending you or not, he was still assaulting someone. 'You piece of shit!' His fist collided whit his jaw a time or two before you stumbled towards the two. 'Lip stop, you're going to get yourself in jail.' He didn't listen and kept wrestling with the man. 'Philip, stop!' You grabbed his arm and started pulling him towards you with all the strength you had in you. 'I'm okay you can stop, please.' You were panicking a bit when you felt him pulling back. 'For fuck sake Lip stop. I'm here, you've got me.' It was as if he got out of some trance. He looked at you whit a look of realisation in his eyes of what he just had done. 'Next time, if a lady says not to touch her just listen you creep.' With those words, Lip stood up and looked down at him with angry eyes. 'Apologize to her.' He pointed toward you and you had to do your best to stop yourself from laughing. The guy crawled back onto his feet and looked you, straight in the eye, shame was written on his face. 'I'm sorry.' Nothing was left of the asshole who grabbed you before, he disappeared in a pile of shame. You just nodded and grabbed Lip's hand to pull him with you as you started to walk away.
'Y/n, are you okay?' His question was only a whisper when the two of you came to a standstill at one of the water fountains that was placed on the festival site along with some picnic tables. You were wetting a paper tissue that you found in your purse so you could clean up the blood that was smeared around his mouth. You made him sit down on one of the benches so you could access his face easily. 'Yeah yeah, I'm fine. Don't worry about me.' His face flinched when you touched the sore spot on his lip and he closed his eyes shut. 'Sorry babe.' You mumbled as you softly swept de blood away. 'Thought you were going to punch him knock out for a second.' That made him look at you, raising an eyebrow. 'It was if you were in some kind of trance. I don't know, it was a bit scary to watch.' His hands found their way around your back, interlocking fingers behind you. 'I was just so angry, I couldn't think straight anymore. It's just that I heard you tell him off but he didn't listen and I-' You placed one of your hands on his cheek and gave him a soft smile. 'It was kinda hot to see you throwing punches for me, not going to lie. You never did that before in all those years that I know you.' A chuckle left his lips. He turned his face so he could place a small kiss on the palm of your hand. 'It just made me so mad that he didn't respect you.' You stroke his cheek softly with your thumb. His answer was so innocent, you couldn't bear it to tell him that this wasn't the first time you'd had to deal with this kind of behaviour from men. So you just gave him a small smile. 'How is your face feeling? He got a couple of swings at you, you'll have bruises tomorrow for sure.' He shrugged his shoulders. 'This? This is nothing, don't you worry.' After you were finished patching up his face you threw the tissue in one of the bins. 'You wanna get out of here?' A cheeky smile spread across your lips as you offered him the question. He licked his lips as he stood up. 'What had you in mind?' You shook your head while a small giggle left your lips. 'Last night was fun, wasn't it? I think we can try a couple of other positions in that tent to see what works and what does not?' He grabbed your hand as he stood up, a boyish grin on his lips while he pulled you with him. 'Man, I love you.'
#Lip Gallagher#Phillip Gallagher#lip gallagher imagine#lip gallagher fanfiction#lip gallagher x reader#Shameless US#Shameless fic#ian gallagher#fiona gallagher#Shameless x reader#Gallagher's x reader
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Bad Break
Alex broke Masky's leg and he's not having a good time. Hoody finds and helps him despite an earlier argument.
Back to Contents || Back to One-shot Contents
The masked man hobbled through the trees, his breath panting laboriously as he pushed himself to keep going. His leg throbbed in agonizing protest from all the movement. The rough terrain didn’t make matters any easier on him. The worst part was that he was miles from home and he was alone, even his partner was gone thanks to an argument days before.
A loud grunt rumbled in his throat as his broken leg finally gave out. Another scream tore from his lips as the bone shifted further from its normal placement. If Alex was still in the area, he was sure to have heard that. He needed to keep going.
Picking up a sturdy branch, the man pulled himself to his feet and limped onward with his injured limb dragging in the dirt. Each step caused pain to spike through it. Despite fighting back tears, eventually droplets rolled down his cheeks. Sniffing and swiping the tears with his jacket’s sleeve, he hobbled onward.
“Hoody would know how to set this properly.” Thunder rumbled in the distance as he drowned himself in the pain and misery of the situation. “Next time I see Alex…”
It wasn’t long before his foul mood worsened. The storm made everything muddy and he slogged his way through it despite his exhaustion. In the dark, the only times he could see were between the bursts of lightning. For all he knew, he could’ve been going in circles. But he wanted to get home where it was warm and safe.
The stick he was using sank deeper into the mud, sending him off balance as he attempted to yank it free. His breath slammed out of his body as the world tumbled around him. Water submerged him for a moment at the bottom of the hill before he managed to drag himself back to land. Coughing, he spat out the water and inhaled deep ragged breaths. His body shuddered and a faint cry escaped as he resigned himself to lying helpless in the mud. If his leg hadn’t been broken before, it certainly was now—and mangled up further thanks to that fall.
“Don’t know where I am…” He tried to stay awake but his strength had ebbed away long ago and now that he was lying down he couldn’t stop his eyes from closing.
Brian followed the trail through the woods until he came to a hill. Shaking his head, the hooded man carefully made his way down the steep slope and stopped at the edge of the river. With the storm the night before, it was flooded and the current was swift. He considered himself—and his masked friend—lucky that it hadn’t swept Tim away.
“Should’ve listened to me.” A huff of annoyance breezed out. He’d told Masky to wait. But no, he wanted to take on Alex right then and there. “Look where that got him.”
He did genuinely feel bad for letting Masky go at it alone with a broken leg, but it wasn’t like he could’ve predicted the man would make it worse and end up falling in a river! Once the storm had gotten bad, he figured his partner would stop and seek shelter like he’d done. Brian quietly walked over and crouched down next to the mud-covered man lying face down in the dirt.
“...Masky?” Guilt sank in further when he didn’t get a response; he should’ve caught up to him. It wouldn’t have been difficult. “Tim?”
Reaching out a gloved hand, he shook the man as hard as he could without causing more harm to his badly broken leg. A jagged gasp told him Tim was at least still alive and the flutter of his eyelids gave him some hope he’d be alright. Brian watched as his partner sank back into unconsciousness. Looked like he’d be hauling Masky back home without the man’s help. Grunting, he hoisted the shorter but heavier man onto his back and started for the abandoned building he’d been staying in.
It was nearly dark again by the time he laid Masky down on the admittedly filthy blankets that didn’t do much to soften against the uncomfortable floor. A growl rumbled through the man’s throat as the action jostled his leg. Hoody pushed his shoulders down firmly and tsked in disapproval at his partner when he tried getting up. Luckily for Masky, Hoody kept a small stash of first-aid supplies. It wasn’t much, certainly nothing for broken bones, but he could improvise.
“Bite.” He shoved a wad of gauze at him.
Giving several grumbles of complaint, Masky obeyed. Hoody watched as the annoyance quickly shifted to agony as he began shoving the leg of Masky’s pants up to assess the damage. The man’s teeth clenched on the gauze like a vice grip. The hooded man shook his head and pulled out a somewhat dull pocket knife and tore at the jean fabric; rolling it up wasn’t doing much to help.
“Oh…” His eyes widened under his mask.
The bone hadn’t broken the skin but he could clearly see the bulge of the broken end pressing out against the skin. Other cuts littered the area, some deeper than others but decidedly unconcerning so long as they were kept clean. The skin itself had morphed into a large dark bruise. Hoody was surprised Masky had even been able to stand on this, let alone tramp through the woods on it—granted the man was stubborn and had likely made it worse than it originally was.
“I can set it. Least good enough until Tim’s back and can get to a doctor.” His eyes met Masky’s dark ones. Despite neither speaking, Masky seemed to read his mind and gave a small nod for him to continue.
A barely muffled scream tore out of Masky’s throat and echoed through the small empty space. Ignoring it, Hoody continued to work on repositioning the bone. Taking a few sturdy sticks, he set the leg and wrapped the remaining bandages around it to keep the bone straight. Heaving breaths slowly settled back down as Masky once again relaxed, spitting out the mangled gauze he’d bit down on.
“This time, listen when I say stay put.” He was glad he hadn’t lost the man but was still pissed Masky hadn’t listened to begin with.
Tugging off his mask, Hoody laid down on Masky’s uninjured side and draped an arm over the man’s chest. Content with knowing he hadn’t lost the man, he allowed himself to relax and drift off.
By the next morning, Tim was back. Hoody knew the signs. With a sigh, he grudgingly put his mask back on and said a silent farewell to his partner before slipping out of the building to continue monitoring Tim out of sight.
#marble hornets#slenderverse#creepypasta#tim wright#brian thomas#masky#hoody#mh masky#mh hoody#one shot#marble hornets one shot#a03 fanfic#alex kralie#masky x hoodie#masky x hoody#mh brim
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Hello, not sure if you’re willing to write about it or not, but maybe wing kink smut between c!foolish and DreamXD? Like, foolish has small but super sensitive wings and they’re erogenous zones when petted? I know this is a rare kink so no worries if not!
Wing; c!Foolish & DreamXD
— c!Foolish x DreamXD
Warnings: Wing kink, dom!DreamXD, sub!Foolish, erogenous zones, idk what else to tag?? This is such an obscure request lmao
NSFW under the cut
Foolish was working on a build when he felt it; a shiver running up his spine and his small wings flaring out ever so slightly. He knew what this feeling was, it was one that came about every time DreamXD visited.
“Need something?” Foolish asked not looking up from what he was doing, not really surprised at the visit, but still confused.
“Mmm, no, not particularly,” the deep voice echoed and rattled in Foolish’s brain, but he was so used to it by now that it didn’t affect him. The first time Foolish ever spoke to the god for more than 5 minutes, he came away with a raging headache that didn’t go away until he drank a regen potion.
“Another build?”
“No, you’ve done more than enough of those.”
Foolish, annoyed, whipped around to face the god, “Ok then what do you want, cause as you can see im kinda busy!”
Foolish would’ve never taken that tone with XD when he first met him or else he would’ve been killed on the spot. He’d say they were at the very least friends now, so XD just smiled at the tone in amusement and drifted closer to Foolish.
“I can’t just be here to visit?” XD inquired, head tilting almost like a dog.
“I-I mean you can, but you usually don’t!”
XD chuckled, “just go back to what you were doing.”
Foolish huffed and turned back around. He could still feel the gods gaze on him, but he was eventually able to forget about it as he continued to work.
That was until there was a soft touch against the base of his wings, and a shot of pleasure suddenly ran through his body.
Foolish let out a surprised moan, “What the fuck are you doing?!” He exclaimed, the light touch still there.
“For such small wings they’re pretty sensitive,” XD stated.
“Yeah no shit!”
XD hummed and pet Foolish’s wing again, causing the man to let out a groan and have to balance himself against a wall.
“S-stop,” Foolish stammered when XD gave another small stroke.
XD smirked and leaned in to whisper into Foolish’s ear, “you don’t really want me to stop though, do you? You like this. I can hear your thoughts begging for me to continue.”
Foolish didn’t say anything as he was panting with his forehead resting against the wall in front of him. XD let his pointer finger trace small circles around the small gold feathers.
Foolish at this point was shaking so hard he could barely stand. His cock was straining in his pants as pleasure was racing up and down his spine, the center of it coming from his wings that XD continued to stroke.
“Stop holding back, Foolish. Let go,” XD growled out, his breath hot against his ear. Foolish whimpered and grit his teeth as he felt himself get close to the edge. He knew his wings were sensitive, but he didn’t realize how easy it would be to push him to the edge with just a few strokes at the base.
“I can feel you getting close, I know you can get there.”
It was like lightning the way pleasure was shooting through Foolish’s body with every stroke. The knot low in his stomach became tighter and tighter, but Foolish held off. It would be embarrassing to finish so fast.
“I don’t care how fast you’re finishing, Foolish,” XD said, one of his hands on his shoulder blade and the other buried in gold feathers.
“Cum.”
The knot snapped as Foolish came, the pleasure ebbing through his entire body from head to toe. He could feel his underwear become wet with his cum, but he didn’t really care as he collapsed, breathing heavily.
He heard XD chuckle, “That was fun.”
“Fuck you” Foolish panted
“Maybe one day.”
Sorry for how short this one is!! It was like 2 in the morning when I was writing this. This was a very interesting request and it fun to write to be honest.
Thank you @aike-dbunny for beta reading! You’re great <3
#dsmp foolish#c!foolish#dreamxd#wings#foolish smut#dreamxd smut#DreamXD smut#dream smp#dsmp fanfic#smut
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Only Dreaming
Buggy x M!Reader
Circus AU
Fluff
Word Count: 1.9k
Warnings: Swearing
Link to Ao3
Summary: You yearned to join the chaos of the circus, but it's just a dream. Isn't it?
A/N: I told myself I would branch out from writing Ace so here we go! This is mainly just a cute kid buggy and kid reader fic that I wrote for the loml @luffydreams. Please enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it.
You always came by super early to watch them set up at the bottom of the valley. The morning sun had barely even opened its own eyes when they started setting everything up. You always hated waking up before sunrise, but for this you would stay up for days to make sure you didn't miss a bit of it. You took your place sitting down on the top of a large hill nearby and gazed, fully mesmerized as you watched them work.
They looked like an ant colony from your view at the top. Everyone moving around each other with such chaotic movements it was shocking to see how everything organized itself together at the end with a near superspeed. People carrying buckets of water and feed for animals seemed to perfectly side sweep and duck with expertise those who were carrying heavy and large pieces of what you could only assume to be equipment for the performers. Never once did you see anyone bump into each other. Even those who ducked by one another always seemed to have the time to yell a quick ‘hello` to each other. Their chatter and laughter reverberated off the edge of the hill. You could almost see it ebbing and flowing on the valley floor below. If you closed your eyes hard enough, you could even pretend to be a part of one of their conversations. The corners of your mouth began to unconsciously lift upwards, a grin slowly spreading on your face.
In the middle of the chaos you finally heard it. Your favorite part. The “Heave! Ho!��s that those that circled around the flat circus tent yelled as they pushed and pulled the grounded fabric to life. Watching the white and red striped tent come to life always sent chills up your spine.
Everything about the setup was loud and chaotic. It was almost abrasive to the ear, but you absolutely loved it. It was entrancing to see. It was almost more exciting to watch than the circus itself.
Almost.
Your eyes started darting around before you were conscious of what you were doing. You just couldn’t help looking for him, though it really wasn’t that difficult. The shocking blue of his hair stuck out among the rest, along with his pitched screeches. It took only moments for you to find your blue haired boy wrestling a red headed circus member that you also recognized fairly quickly. It didn’t seem that the red haired one was all that bothered by him though. Even from where you sat far up on your hill you could see him laughing away while he and the other boy rolled around in the grass. Even those who moved around them, chuckled at their antics. That was until you saw a man pick each of them up by the back of their shirts berating both of them. You giggled a bit watching the scene. The blue haired boy yelled and screamed and wriggled around in the grasp of the man still wanting to fight.
That boy…
You could try to say that you only vaguely remember his performance, that his trapeze and tight line tricks were muddled in your mind with all the other acts you saw, but that would be a complete and utter lie.
You were entranced by his performance. From the first day that you had snuck under the flaps of the circus tent and behind the bleachers to watch the show.
You could see the spotlights shining brightly toward the top of the tent, even now. All eyes laser focused on him as he walked the barely perceptible line of string high above the audience’s head with an ease that seemed almost impossible to possess. Even through the slits of the bleachers that you had to sneak behind, blocked by the audience members legs, his act was etched into the core of your memory.
Oh how you could only wish to be up there too! Walking the tightline and swinging from platform to platform with the blue haired boy. You were brought back to reality with the roar of their hungry animals.
You laid yourself flat on the grassy earth and sighed.
It was only a dream.
~
“Come with us!” yelled Shanks as his picked up some of the juggling pins off the ground of the center stage.
Both you and Buggy yelled at him in confusion. Your voices echoing across the empty arena.
The day had finally come. Their last performance before they moved onto the next city.
“What?” You almost dropped all the props on the ground in front of you.
“You heard me! Come with us! Come join the circus.”
This must have been a joke. You thought back to the time you spent with them.
You had finally worked up the courage to sneak backstage and meet the blue haired boy. Both of you clicked immediately (after Buggy stopped screaming) and the rest was history. The days you had spent with Buggy had been the happiest days that you could remember! He had introduced you to a lot of the other members. That’s how you met the redheaded boy Shanks, who you found out early on was a sword swallowing apprentice and the ringmasters of the show Rodger and Rayleigh. Rayleigh, you immediately recognize as the man constantly pulling Buggy and Shanks apart.
You didn't want to brag, but they grew fond of you and your presence rather quickly after your introductions. Most of them happily greeting you by name, some coming up with little nicknames for you, some even teaching you little performance tricks. Even Buggy had spent the time to teach you how to walk a tightrope (with a string on the ground, but you were working your way up to hovering above ground!) You had spent more and more of your time hanging out with Buggy and Shanks as the days sped by. Most of the time usually laughing at their arguing or running around together spreading a little bit of chaos in your wake. The days seemed to come and go in the blink of an eye when it was the three of you. Which became your biggest problem now.
You had tried not to think of the day approaching but you couldn't help your mood slowly being dragged down with your dread as the day came closer and closer. You wanted more time. You wanted to see more. You wanted to talk to and help out more. You wanted to see more of the blue haired boy. Much more. And people had noticed. One of them being Shanks.
“Come join us!" He repeated with more emphasis.
Were you dreaming? You had to be dreaming. That was the only place you thought you would ever hear those words anyhow so that must have been it.
“You're here all the time anyways! You might as well, right?”
“Yea but I’m not a performer. I can't do anything, I would just drag you guys down.”
Shanks nodded slowly in agreement. What was the point of having someone who can’t do anything useful? You held back your tears as your reality began to sink in. Your dreams slowly losing their translucence.
You glanced Shank’s way, and you could almost see the lightbulb above his head shining almost as brightly as his hair. “Buggy was teaching you his swinging rope stuff right?"
You nodded your head.
“Just do that! You can be an apprentice like me! He can teach you all you need to know and then once you're good enough you can start performing with him."
A familiar screech erupted from the other end of the center stage. Both you and Shanks turn around to see him staring wide eyed at the both of you, as he paused in the middle of cleaning up the hula hoops. Buggy was in the middle of picking up some hula hoops.
“Hey!” He repeated over and over again speeding his way across the stage, hula hoops still in hand. “Don’t drag me into your shit Shanks! I’m not getting in trouble with Rayleigh because you want to hide a stowaway!”
Shanks folded his arms and frowned. “Weren't you just boohooing the other day about how sad you were not being able to see y/n anymore?”
A hula hoop whipped past Shank’s face.
“Shut the fuck up you red haired bastard!”
Shanks held his stomach as he laughed until Buggy dropped all of his stuff and went ramming into Shanks.
You started laughing, but you couldn't help but hear Shanks' words ringing in your head. Buggy was sad about leaving you behind? Your ears went slightly pink at the thought. After some time Shanks, as per usual, ended up the winner of the fight. He held Buggy by the forehead at arms length as Buggy still continued to try and swing.
“Come on Buggy! It's a great idea! Plus Roger and Rayleigh like him so there’s no way they would say no!” The boys started arguing once again until you interrupted.
“It’s ok guys.” You said quietly though it echoed the space loudly enough for both of them to stop fighting
“You don’t have to.” You look up at each of them and smile as you try to force the tears back into your eyes "That’s really nice of you, but it’s ok. I’ll just…see you guys when you come around next year!”
Buggy’s hands fell to his side and Shanks let go of his grip on Buggy’s head. Both of them looked towards you, then towards one another. A moment a silence passed before Buggy stood up straight and coughed into his fist. He looked away from you, staring very intently at something on the opposite side of the room.
“I’ll teach you.” He mumbled. His cheeks started to flush red.
A long paused passed again. Were you hearing him right? “What?”
“I said I’ll teach you!” He screeched “but you have to do everything I sa-“
You crushed him between your arms with a flow of thank you’s streaming out of your mouth. Shanks started laughing again before you moved onto crushing him between your arms as well.
It wasn't a dream, it wasn't a dream, it wasn't a dream!
~
The rolling hills sped past the train. You gazed out the window watching them fly by. You were trying to figure out which was the one that you sat at. It was a lot harder to tell from this point of view.
The train erupted in laughter as you thought that you spotted the one, but you weren't sure. The train was filled with the same laughter you heard from the top of the hill, but now you didn't have to close your eyes to it surrounding you. It was finally real.
You were surrounded by it. You were covered in it. All the chatter and glee and conversations covered you like a warm blanket. Even Buggy and Shanks were laughing at some of the jokes Roger was making from the end of the train car.
That’s when you spot it. You knew it was the right one this time, you just knew it. Only seconds passed by before it had come and gone. Everything you had known, now gone in a second. You smiled to yourself.
Finally.
Finally everything was good. You were a part of something real now. You saw your new beginnings, and this time you weren’t looking over the edge of a tall hill. Now it was right in front of you. Now a part of your reality.
#one piece#one piece fanfiction#buggy x reader#buggy d clown#circus au#yes I know I didn’t make Buggy a clown despite his namesake#I’d like to think he has more talent than just making people laugh#also how sick does sword eater Shanks sound???#like I was trying to figure out what he would do and it immediately clicked#one piece x reader insert#one piece x reader#one piece reader insert
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Give it time
Summary: Tony throws a party. Loki and you are in an established relationship. He watches the party and sees you and Steve getting too close for his liking. So, he decides to do something about it.
Word count: 3.185 words
Warnings: Angst, jealously, insecure Loki/soft Loki
Give it time He heard you laughing out loud again, from across the room. Loki was by the bar and already on his fourth, or fifth? no definitely fourth, drink of Asgardian mead. At least Thor was useful for something. He gulped down the rest of his drink and signalled the mortal behind the bar to pour him another. It looked like he was going to say something to him, but giving him his best death glare, to mortal held his tongue. He took a large sip and turned around eyeing the room. Tony was entertaining some of his friends, the widow was flirting with Banner who was oblivious to all hints and then he saw you with the soldier. The perfectly, honest, can do no wrong in his life soldier. He took another large sip. Thor was walking towards him.
‘Are you forgetting that you’re not drinking mortal alcohol, brother? Thor asked concerned.
‘No, of course not’ Loki replied irritated. I’m not like you. I’m only on my fourth drink, fourth right? Yeah, definitely fourth he thought.
‘Where’s your lady?’ Thor asked. Loki took another sip of his drink and gestured towards you and Steve.
‘Ah, at least she is in good company I see’ Thor said. Even tough Loki knew he didn’t mean it like that, the comment hurt him. But that was not something he would show. Before he could reply Thor was called by Tony, who probably wanted another attempt at wielding Mjölnir. Like that pathetic excuse of a man could ever wield it. Loki was distracted from his thoughts when he heard your laugh again. He heard it every time, it was the most wonderful and purest sound he had ever heard. He watched as you and Steve laughed with each other. Steve was getting a little too close for Loki’s liking, but he had learned not to disturb you. He was not in the mood to be having that fight with you, again. He is just a friend, he would never make a move knowing I’m with you, he isn’t like that, you had told him time and time again. Still, Loki never fully trusted Steve. When it came to you, he trusted no man.
He downed his drink and made a hand gesture to the mortal behind the bar, not caring to actually acknowledge his present this time. When his cup was filled again he took another sip. He watched as you told a story to Steve and saw your whole face light up. Maybe, you should be with someone like Steve. He is everything I am not. He is nice, polite, caring, courageous and he would treat you right. He was good, irritatingly good. In all the time Loki had known Steve he was waiting for him to slip up, make a mistake, but Loki was starting to think that day would never come. He tried to treat you like the queen you were, but he felt like he always comes up short with you. You had tried to reassure him that you loved him and would be his until the end of time, but Loki didn’t believe it. Couldn’t believe it. It won’t be long before she realizes she can do better. Everyone eventually does. Loki started to wonder how much time he would have left before Steve, or someone else, would steal you away. His preference would be anyone but Steve, he really hated Steve. He needed to be careful, he couldn’t bare losing you. Not this soon, if ever. He took another large sip of his cup, but realized it was empty. Damn mortal bartender forgot to refill my cup, again.
He signalled the bartender rather angry, the man looked frightened at him. Loki gave him a wicked grin and he swore he saw the man tremble a little. He loved to scare people. Something a good man, a better man, one deserving of you, would never do he thought while his smile faltered. Loki grabbed his cup and turned around. He saw that your story was coming to an end. The look on Steve’s face made him sick. He took a large sip. I should distract myself he thought. He eyed the room again, but the only thing he could do was sit beside Thor, who was telling some war story. Loki wasn’t in the mood. Loki looked back towards you when he heard you laugh again. Steve said something to you, but you couldn’t hear him. Stark had turned the music up. Horrible loud music. That’s when he saw the soldier put a hand around you and place it on your lower back. He pulled you slightly towards you and you whispered something in his ear.
THAT’S IT! Loki didn’t care anymore. He would not stand for this. He smashed his glass on the ground behind the bar, making the bartender flinch. Normally, he would laugh, but he had to get to you as fast as he could. He took a few steps, his balance felt a little off, but he didn’t care. He walked towards you as fast as he could. He slapped the soldier’s hand from your lower back and put his arm around your waist. He pulled you flush against him ‘Darling, a word’ he hissed.
‘Loki, I don’t think..’ Steve started before Loki put his hand in the air to silence him. He quickly teleported the two of you back to his chambers. He let go of you and locked the door. When he turned around he saw the rather angry expression on your face. But it was nowhere near the angry expression you saw on his face. ‘WHAT THE HELL, LOKI!’ you yelled at him, startled from the sudden change in environment. He didn’t respond, maybe teleporting wasn’t the best idea I ever had. There was an awkward silence that lasted longer than he would have liked. He was still searching for his words. ‘Why?’ you asked him.
‘I didn’t feel like watching how the two of you were flirting’ he replied.
‘You honestly think I was FLIRTING with him?’ you exclaimed.
‘He had his arm around you’ he responded.
‘He just pulled me closer so we could hear each other. Tony had turned up the music so loud, we couldn’t hear each other’ you replied.
‘He kept holding you’ the anger Loki had first felt was ebbing away. He didn’t want to admit, he would never to anyone, but he was trying to keep his emotions in check. He was certain you were going to dump him and run into the arms of the soldier, and Loki felt like crying.
‘So? It was a friendly gesture’ you said. That fuelled his anger once again. He loved you, but you were rather naïve sometimes. Loki really didn’t want to have this fight, again. He needed you to stay with him, he couldn’t let go of you, he won’t do it ever. He walked a few steps in your direction and was relieved he didn’t see you back away. He put his arm on the lower of your back and leaned in ‘Is this a friendly gesture?’ he whispered. He noticed how your breath hitched a little, you leaned in a little closer and your lips were almost touching his. ‘I think you need a reminder who you belong to’ he said huskily. It was a bold move, but he hoped it would keep you from leaving him.
A sly smile appeared on his face as he saw you swallow hard at his words. He knew what buttons to push to get you there. He let his lips ghost over yours and held back the urge to kiss you again and again, until you were out of breath. He needed to hear you moan, feel you whiter underneath him and realize that you needed him, hopefully enough to stay with him. He slowly started to walk you backwards until your legs hit his bed. He laid you down and immediately crawled on top of you. He started to kiss your collarbone and made his way up to your throat and ear. Making sure to leave bruises and marks, he loved to mark you. That way everybody would know you were his, and only his. He felt your heartbeat increase and your soft gasps, making him smile against your skin.
‘You’re mine’ he growled lowly in your ear. He felt you shiver slightly and noticed goosebumps starting to appear on your skin. He got up and startled your legs. With one strong movement he ripped your dress right through. He couldn’t help but chuckle when he heard you gasp. Then he saw that you didn’t wore any underwear. He cocked an eyebrow to silently asked you why. ‘I thought this would be easier for you’ you smirked, answering his silent question. Loki felt his cock stir, but right before he could continue the thought of Steve being so close to you, without you wearing any underwear popped into his head. He tried to distract himself and latched his mouth to one of your nipples. He massaged the other one by rolling your hardened nipple between his thumb and index finger. Already gasping and panting for air, and I have barely begun. He started to feel a bit dizzy, but ignored it. Maybe I should have listened to Thor and ease up on the drinks next time.
When he was finished with your breasts he slowly trailed open mouth kisses down your body. Making sure to kiss every inch of your body. He hummed against your skin when he felt you spread your legs. He kissed you lower and lower, stopping right before he was at your clit. He was pleased to smell your arousal, a scent as divine as the finest flower on Asgard. He ghosted your clit, knowing that drove you crazy. He felt your hands in his hair, urging him to stop teasing you. Loki let his tongue slip out and give you a light lick on your clit. His plan was to have you begging for more, but when he heard the moan that left your lips, he lost it. He latched his mouth firmly on your clit and swirled the hardened bud with his tongue. You tried to buck away at the sudden stimulation, but pulled your thighs over his shoulders and hold you firmly in place. ‘O god.. o god..’ you started to chant. It was lovely to hear, but not enough. Loki upped his game and let two fingers enter between your folds. He felt the wetness between your thighs and his fingers met no resistance. He slowly started to finger-fuck you while swirling his tongue on your clit in the same rhythm.
After only a short time he felt your walls clench around his fingers and knew you were close. The thought to stop crossed his mind for a second, but he would hear you beg soon enough. ‘O god, Loki’ you cried out as he felt the wave of pleasure wash over you. Your walls clenched hard around his fingers and you tried to move his tongue away from your clit, but failed. He kept pumping in and out of you while slowly circling your clit with his tongue. He wanted to prolong the feeling of your pleasure as long as he could. Once he noticed you started to come down from your high, he shimmered your clothes away and kissed his way back up to your mouth.
He kissed you passionately while lining his hardened cock up with your entrance. ‘Hmm… Loki’ you moaned into the kiss. Right before he entered you he stilted and looked at you with a playful smile on his face. ‘Yes, darling?’ he asked feigning innocence. You tried to buck your hips so he would enter you, but Loki resisted.
‘If there is something you want, all you need to do is ask’ he mused while nibbling on your earlobe.
‘Take me’ you whispered. Loki kissed you eagerly again and entered you in one smooth motion. You gasped, you did it every time he entered you. It was his favourite part, every time. He felt your walls clenching down right away, and knew you still hadn’t come fully down from your orgasm. He didn’t give you time to recover and started to pound into you like this was the last time he would fuck you. Maybe it is. He tried to push the thought away and focus on your withering beneath him. He pulled your legs over his shoulder and leaned down to leave open kisses on your mouth. Sometimes he would slide his tongue in yours, exploring every inch and taking your breath away. He felt he was close and started to circle your clit with his fingers. He felt your walls clench and knew that if you came, he was done for. So, he stilted all movements and revelled inside when he hears a needy whine escape your lips.
‘Loki’ you panted, hoping that he would go on. But he made no movement.
‘Who do you belong to?’ he asked
‘You, I belong to you’ you said while catching your breath. Loki slowly started to resume his movements.
‘And who can make you feel like this?’ he grunted
‘God, yo- you, only you!’ you exclaimed when Loki picked up his pace.
‘Who’s this God you keep praying to?’ he mused, already knowing your answer.
‘You. God you. Please Loki, please let me come’ you begged him.
He snapped his hips as fast as he could and his fingers found your clit. He felt your walls clench. A feeling of pride went through him when he heard you chant his name so loud, the whole tower could probably hear it. In the middle of your orgasm, he felt his cock twitch and his seed spilled inside of you. Every time he came inside of you it felt like Valhalla itself. He pumped a few more times to ride out his own orgasm and pulled out. He laid down next to you, not wanting to collapse on top of you and crushing him with his weight. The feeling of dizziness grew and he even felt a little sick. Definitely drinking less next time. You crawled against him and he wrapped his arm around you. He was surprised when you kissed his cheek, not expecting the loving gesture.
‘You know, you don’t have to be jealous at Steve. There is nothing going on, I only want you’ you tried to reassure him. Loki just stared at the ceiling, he didn’t want to meet your gaze.
‘I don’t trust him’ he gritted through his teeth, trying to hold back his anger towards Steve.
‘Do you trust me?’ you asked him.
He was kind of startled that you asked him did. He looked into your eyes and saw a hint of hurt and desperation in them. He gave you a kiss on your forehead ‘With my life’ he whispered.
‘Then trust me, I will never leave you for Steve or any other man’ you tried to reassure him. You snuggled closer and kissed his chest. Loki wanted to tell you that you couldn’t possibly make such a promise, and that you shouldn’t. Not to him. But he was happy to have you next to him – for now - and didn’t want to spoil it. Not wanting to talk about it anymore he gave you a kiss on your head ‘We should clean up, you’re staying here tonight?’ he asked.
‘Of course, just like every other night this past week’ you giggled. You got up and went to the bathroom, while Loki cleaned himself with his seidr. ‘You need anything from the kitchen?’ he asked to you.
‘A water would be nice’ you replied from the bathroom.
Loki put on his sweatpants and went to the kitchen. He heard the party still in full swing on the floor above him. He opened the fridge to get a water bottle. When he closed he noticed that Steve had entered the kitchen, and he couldn’t give up his change to annoy him. ‘Sorry if we were too loud, I would tell you it won’t happen again tonight. But even I can’t tell that lie with a straight face’ Loki smirked towards Steve. He was a bit annoyed when Steve just shrugged ‘I barely heard the two of you’ he replied.
‘But I was a little concerned about you. You sure seemed a little intoxicated, you’re feeling better? Steve asked with genuine concern on his face. But Loki could see through the lie, he was actually mocking him. Knowing full well he drank too much, and why. Still, he played along.
‘Nothing a god like me can’t handle, mortal’ he replied rather dryly.
‘Good, for a moment there I was worried I had to take your lady home’ Steve said. This time making less of an attempt to show genuine concern.
‘You have nothing to worry about. I will always take her home’ he replied rather irritated.
The soldier just winked at him ‘Give it time’ he said while exiting the kitchen. Loki felt sick all over again and rushed towards the sink to vomit. When he was done he was scared that Steve had heard him, but he wasn’t there and didn’t hear him. He quickly cleaned the sink and his teeth with his seidr, while trying to figure out if it was Steve, the drinks, or a combination of both that caused him to vomit. I knew I shouldn’t trust him he thought. If Steve weren’t important to you, Loki would have killed him right now. Still, Steve’s intentions were very clear. Loki walked back towards his room and saw you already laying in his bed under the sheets. You were wearing one of his t-shirts and reading the book he had left there this morning.
Only the light of the nightstand was shining in the room. You looked up and smiled at him when he entered. He got under the covers with you and handed you your water bottle. You opened it and took a few sips ‘thanks’ you said. You put the book back on his nightstand and turned of the light. Loki couldn’t hold it in anymore. When you laid back down he immediately grabbed you, pulling you as close as he could. Fearing that if he let go right now, you would somehow vanish. ‘Loki? You alright?’ you whispered. He nuzzled his head against your chest and did something he hadn’t done in a very long time. He cried.
Tags: @delightfulheartdream @the-best-phineas
#loki#loki laufeyson#loki odinson#loki of asgard#loki marvel#loki mcu#loki love#loki oneshot#loki fanfic#loki fanfiction#loki angst#loki angry#loki fluff#loki smut#Smut#shameless smut#loki story#loki sad#loki sweet#loki x reader#loki x you#loki x ofc#loki x original female character
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Empty - F.W (1/2)
Gah daym this was a JOURNEY to write. I swore to myself to never write angst because, well I suck at it. But here we are, I swear this has a good ending because my heart can't bear that. I could've written this much better, so I promise to bring my A GAME for chapter 2. Enjoy, also Lee in this is a hate crime. This is very story telling-esk so I hope it flows well.
I wouldn't have written this chapter without the help of my good friend @mochiixjimin she helped me edit and spice up this whole thing so thank you so much to her! She's an amazing writer, go check out her work and show her some big love right now or else!! her wattpad
Chapter 1 out of 2 (Backstory)
Summary —> Life has always been a cruel joke to you, yet you simply play along. Overshadowed by Eva Burke your whole life, watching from the sidelines while everyone flooded each other with love, it would always feel like a joke.
Pairing: fredweasley x fem!reader
Word count: 6.1k
Warnings: ANGST ANGST ANGST (with a fluffy ending in the second part) / One mature scene (18+) and then it's angst again <3 / Some slander / Offensive language
Rating: 18+
DON’T REPOST MY WORK
You were a bright child.
Beaming bright enough to keep a tight lipped smile during flu-shots, and enough to put on a happy façade when your dad threw away the drawing you had done of your family dog, rather than hang it up on the fridge.
Children have foolish dreams, and that was yours. Your friends in preschool boasted about their pictures being hung like trophies on fridges, with decorative magnets and even bigger pink bow ties.
The fridge in the Y/L/N manor was empty. Always empty, just how Ms. Y/L/N liked it. Empty marble floors with empty rug designs, and empty rooms with even emptier people living in it. They were both empty people. Hollow and void of any emotion, at least towards you.
You were different though. You were filled to the brim with ambition and hope and so many positive emotions that your parents never seemed to reflect on you. You were like those Disney princesses. The princesses always had hope, and when you have hope good things happen.
Right?
Your dad never meant to give you false hope. He just wished you’d keep your mouth shut as he worked until late hours. Using big words and having big aspirations, you shouldn’t have.
Mr and Mrs Y/L/N weren't bad people per say, just busy. They didn't know how to raise a child, this was obvious, because the purpose of even having a child was to fix their marriage. But a temporary fix wouldn't do it, it never did. There was always that hole on the roof, leaking rain of despair into their falsely built home that no bucket big enough could hold back. Because it always found a way to overflow.
They didn't know how to show their love, so they did it with money, clothes, toys and crayons that you would later use to draw pictures of your family, only to have them end up in the dumpster once again.
They spoiled you rotten, bought you gifts you never even dreamed of asking. You just shut up and enjoyed it, what else could you do? Whine and demand attention? Risk losing their favor? There was no favor to lose.
You got yourself a fat A plus on your third grade math test. Star stickers on your chest, you entered through the glass double doors of your house with a crooked smile - two front teeth missing of course - making your joy all the more endearing. Your backpack strapped tightly over your narrow shoulders, hanging low with all the crammed books you pushed before leaving school because you were just so excited to show your parents.
You received a big sloppy kiss from your Nanny, who practically was like a second mom to you, and dashed right into your fathers office to show him your new accomplishment.
"Good job, I'm proud of you."
You froze. You found a way to actually get their attention. The attention you so craved, the recognition you would die for. This was revolutionary. Basically a new era for you.
Nanny made you a star shaped cake that night, and sat with you while gently stroking your hair and listening to you blabber about how easy the math questions were. It felt warm, motherly love. Even if it was false, it would never compare to the love of your own mother, a love you would never get.
You spent all your night studying, your eyes burning under the harsh light of your lamp in the early mornings and your pencil, ebbing away over sheets and sheets of blank paper. Writing away your little hands off until they ached, just to snatch another A and get a good job.
This was good, it worked out very well. You became that student who looked forward to class, just to get a good grade and have the validation of your parents. The sight of your father’s lips quirk up even in the slightest, and how your mother’s eyes shone briefly in appreciation of your hard work, even if it was for a quick second, it was worth it.
Until the new neighbors moved in.
Mr. Burke was a round, cheerful man with an even rounder belly, and a big fat pipe that always hung on his lips. Mrs Burke looked and acted like those fairy godmothers you adored. You couldn’t believe such people existed. Mr Y/L/N invited them over for dinner, for courtesy. He was not happy about said courtesy.
He ended up liking the couple, they had a little daughter called Eva, who was small and adorable with round red cheeks and big doe eyes. Not only Mr and Mrs Burke, but the Y/L/N’s adored Eva as well. She was happy, always smiling, and her teeth weren't nearly as crooked as yours, not to mention she had pretty long hair like a princess.
You liked her a lot, took her to pick flowers, showed her the drawings you had prepared for the empty fridge; in case Mr Y/L/N ever had a change of heart and hung them up, you had been trying for three years and weren't giving up any sooner.
Eva was nice, kind enough to share her M&M's and very used to compliments unlike you. She seemed to get a lot from her parents and yours. The adults were so kind to her, always smothering her with love and kisses. You were happy for Eva, happy that Eva somehow managed to gain the favor of your parents before you did.
Little girls tended to be jealous, you weren’t. You were just glad to have a friend so cool, she didn't blush and stutter under praise and apparently her drawings were pretty enough to go on a fridge.
It was a Thursday afternoon when your mom smiled at you for the first time since your last exam grade. "Look, Eva drew us a picture, isn't it pretty?"
The crayola stash under your bed was no longer needed, they appeared clumsily dumped in the neighborhood trash the next day, most of them stomped under the pressure of your little sneakers. And the bundle of drawings you hid under your pillow, wishing on fairy godmother that one day they would be hung up too, were ripped; clearly a struggle given. You had paper cuts on your hands, and your Nanny thankfully applied ointment before Ms and Mr Y/L/N noticed, or rather, stopped to care.
Though you knew that even if you paraded herself with bloody fingers dripping to your elbows, they wouldn't care.
Nanny did, she was there. There when you were haunted with nightmares when the moon was particularly dark, cooing at you and letting you sleep next to her in that small bed of hers. There when you tripped and fell, small scratch resulting in a screaming tantrum. She was gentle, sweet, paid well.
You decided to go and pick flowers with Eva, and make a pretty flower crown for yourself, months after your drawing incident. Of course, you didn't have such silly dreams anymore. You didn’t wish to have your pictures hung, to have your mother wear the flower crowns you made and frankly you didn’t care for the sight of the sparkle in your parents eyes. Nanny’s was enough.
Eva agreed, dressed in a pink tutu Mrs Y/L/N gifted. You didn't comment, though deep down you gazed at the skirt in sparkling envy. Your mother never bothered to get you such pretty things. The two of you gathered saturated petals and nice ribbons while giggling amongst yourselves. Until, you accidentally caused Eva’s flowers to levitate.
Eva ran home, crying and calling you a witch. Mr and Mrs Y/L/N’s dirty looks made her feel shameful, and even dirtier when a letter addressed to her was dropped by a pretty owl you insisted on petting. It was from a school called Hogwarts, in the faraway land of London, and it seemed, not only you but Eva got the same letter the next day.
Though the Y/L/N’s and Burke’s were proud of Eva’s letter. They weren’t with yours.
— — — —
The ride to Hogwarts was interesting to say the least. You had so many questions unanswered, were you a fairy godmother too? Was that your destiny? Was that the reason you never got any attention, because you were destined to give instead of receive?
Eva was cheerful as always, making fast friends in newly bought uniforms and holding a pretty, long and thin wand, with designs flowing across the premise. Your wand was...functional. You were sad you couldn't choose, and that the wand chose the owner. It didn't make sense, what if you didn't want this wand? What if you wanted something charming like Eva’s? It should have been mutual.
It was while trying to find your way to the bathroom that you met the Weasley twins. Quite handsome, a year older and absolute fucktards. A word you learned from the two. Though you always found yourself laughing more at Fred’s jokes, you liked them both equally.
“Hey George! Look.” Fred had exclaimed, clinging onto his brothers shoulder and dragging him across. “Who's that girl?”
You introduced yourself, happy façade on, gentle words slipping out of your mouth like nectar. They had to like you, you told yourself. Just this once, more than Eva.
When sorted into Gryffindor, Eva, you and the twins became inseparable. Your group grew in second year, when Katie, Lee and Alicia Spinnet joined the bunch. You would make fun of the ghastly Potions Professor Snape, and imitate Dumbledore in the hallways to mess with the older students.
You loved your time at Hogwarts, and the adventures that came every year. Especially when Harry Potter joined.
“Hey Fred.”
Fred, who was fiddling with his bracelet you had bought him hummed in response, not bothering to look up.
You sighed, “Do you think the flowers can feel it when we pluck them?”
Fred turned at that, his bracelet was now tightly secure after his struggles. “I hope not.” he smiled, a faraway look on his face whenever he gazed at you. “You know, some people like pain.” he winked.
You merely looked at him confused, clearly way too young for...whatever that is.
He started laughing loudly, slapping his knee and causing you to scoff and slap him on the shoulder.
Third year was when it bloomed. The slight girly attention you gave Fred grew. Fred was...Fred. A handsome ginger, beater for their house's Quidditch team, always charming and charismatic that somehow oozed out of him whenever he did anything really. It was not unusual, every girl in school had a crush on him. That wasn't the case, Fred was one of your best friends, and you refused to entertain the idea of a possible...relationship.
Yet sometimes, you'd find yourself thinking about hugging and kissing Fred like you’d seen couples in your favorite movies did and you’d fall asleep with reddened cheeks and a boy with even redder hair in your mind.
But feelings couldn’t be controlled, nor easily hidden. Eva found out in your fourth year after hearing you mumble his name in your dreams. Fred Weasley was getting more handsome as years passed, and you found it hard to contain your feelings. You were crushing, hard.
Eva was...Eva about it. Happy, but nothing changed. She didn't tease like George did when he found out, nor did she act any differently towards Fred.
“Hey ____!” Fred had sat next to you, shaking the entire couch because he grew that tall during summer. “Got a new girl after me.” he looked at you, almost expectantly, as if you wouldn’t react the way you always reacted.
“That’s great Fred.” you smiled, gulping whatever lump that was forming in your throat and struggling to come out as vulgar words you wished to yell.
“Yeah,” Fred sighed, “It’s...great.”
Fred Weasley was a ladies man, and he wasn't afraid to show it. It was okay, because you were happy enough to be one of his closest, and that was enough. He often boasted about getting girls, and how successful his jokes were, and you always loved snapping back to him cockily, even more cockily than him. Playful banter was easy, comforting between them and when he turned away you would love to shyly entertain the idea of being one of those girl’s Fred talked about.
Fifth year, you had a sudden growth spurt. That was also the year where you discovered Cosmopolitan, Vogue and of course Witch Weekly. Hair no longer in a ponytail, legs shaved and smooth, short skirts with no nylons, you were a new person. After getting your period in third year, your spurt came late, but sudden. Way too sudden in the time of three months. It was hard to handle the changes occurring to your body. It was all too much that you had to become a lady and the fact that you didn’t have your mother to help was a pain you hid deep within.
It was as if whichever god above decided to squeeze your entire life into a summer and call it a day, because it was simply too busy. How ironic. No one saw your growth except old Nanny Gladys. Not Eva, nor her parents considering they went on a getaway and the Burke's, who had gone to Brazil.
But you were over that, you discovered the great telephone, and the great Hermione Granger, package deal with Ginny Weasley. You guys would talk on the phone for hours upon hours, Ginny obscuring your personality and Hermione altering your view on your parents. And Hermione was right, they were assholes. You didn't give a flying fuck about empty praises anymore.
You had become almost too tall for your older clothes, and your breasts were way too big to fit in the training bra you bought not even a month ago. Your hips, now wide and swaying as you walk became graceful, were decorated with long gem bracelets.
You cursed like a sailor that summer, ran around fields with family - your family being your dog, Jambo - bare feet. You stomped on flowers you used to pick as a little girl, stomping on those silly fairytale dreams you used to nurse, and never felt freer. For the first time ever you felt that maybe being empty could be more freeing than having false hope weighing you down.
Returning to Hogwarts was a big deal to students. Who changed, who glowed up after what happened last year - nothing, it was all childish drama.
Before your parents could even see your new self, your escapade to the Granger household was successful. The Y/L/N's didn't care, nor did they write. You knew it should’ve hurt, but frankly, you didn’t think having the pain in your chest was worth it. Hermione was awestruck, of course, after laying her sights on you for the first time since May and insisted on walking into the Entrance Hall, arm in arm with her and Ginny to show you off like some sort of revelation.
It was a revelation all right, at least to the boys, and some girls. It seemed no one saw you as a girl before. George oogled, and Lee was so shocked to find out that you were actually a girl with a pretty figure and an even prettier smile that he stopped clapping you on the back like he always did. Not a girl, you have become a woman. It was far too sudden, new uniforms and a whole new wardrobe had to be bought.
"____? You were a girl?" Fred joked, ruffling your hair like nothing changed between you. And that's when you realized, no slutty skirt, how much pushup your bra, or no matter how pretty your hair looked, Fred would always see you as ____, the girl with crooked front teeth and who once ate a worm in second year. Your teeth weren't crooked at all anymore - thanks to a few years of braces - and finally clear of uncomfortable metals but you felt as if Fred would always see the ghost of them on your pearly whites when you smiled.
He had this view of you that blinded him, caused him to treat you as he treated Ginny while he flirted and played footsie with other girls, including Eva.
That did not stop Eva from giving you false hope, and you took the bait, naive like always. Hope, that's what ruined it all. "You're beautiful now, of course you have a chance!" she said, rubbing your shoulder reassuringly, as if she had warmth to begin with.
It was all false, yet you still believed. You always had. Like a fool.
Ginny didn't like Eva, and maybe that's why you gravitated towards her. She was the first person who had ever met Eva that wasn't charmed by her kind smile and attractive words. Eva was...displeased. She grew up having the attention of everyone around, so when Ginny Weasley told her straight to her face that she wasn't shit, Eva seethed. The attention of Ginny changed nothing though, because Eva was the main character. Everyone - except Ginny, and secretly Hermione (though she would never say it) - loved her, they followed her around like puppies and praised her on her wonky wand work.
The upcoming Yule Ball brought great upswing to Hogwarts.
You were far too busy with her classes to take interest in the tournament - even though the dragon race was the gnarliest sight you had ever seen. Your goal was set, become a badass Auror and move out as soon as possible, so you didn't have to face your parents (except Holidays, yuck.)
But the Yule Ball was your chance. A chance with Fred Weasley.
You could ask to go as friends and maybe, just maybe a little hope and the night would end much more romantic than you had anticipated.
Plucking up courage was the hardest part, you practiced with your bathroom mirror so long that Ginny had to blast through the door and drag you out of her dormitory.
Fred Weasley agreed, why wouldn't he? You, his closest friend, asking to go as a group and drink all night while gossiping? It was a win win. At least that's what you told herself.
That was a lie, it wasn't a win win.
You gave it your all getting ready, dress silk, makeup and expensive shoes. You took a long shower, scrubbing and shaving yourself to a smooth gliding porcelain, only for it all to be washed down with reddened eyes and a boy with even redder hair.
Fred greeted you the same, danced the same, and you chatted the same; you were reminded again, for the second time, that you stood no chance.
Fred told you that he was going to get drinks, a quick trip to the booth and mumbled I'll be back in a second. He was not back in a second. Several minutes passed, and your worries caused your feet to follow after Fred's footsteps.
You ran, trying to find him in the empty corridors of Hogwarts, tears welling in your eyes because he wouldn't. He wasn't that cruel, life wasn't that cruel.
But it was, and in a distant empty classroom you saw Fred Weasley, on his knees and between Eva's legs, groaning and praising her like a starved man. Worshipping her like everyone else had, burying himself in her and completely forgetting the drink he’d bring back in just a second. He’d left you thirsty and alone in the Great Hall and left you to drink from a cup he hadn’t known to be forbidden. Yet Eva did.
Eva's perfect dainty hands tangled in his ginger hair, thighs clamping shut while her high pitched moans flooded your mind and echoed around your head. They were so loud that she couldn’t even hear the loud echoes of your footsteps and the woeful cries that left your lips as you ran. It wouldn’t be the first time she had ignored your pain for her own selfish reasons.
Your heart shattered, and suddenly you were six again, watching your parents praise Eva, hang her drawing on the fridge. A soft breeze tickling your bare toes, dangling from the small cushioned seat you sat on while you watched Eva braid Mrs Y/L/N’s hair. Emotionless, silent, not asking for anything, knowing that you won't receive in return. Eva's small hands carefully placed the flower crown on Mrs Y/L/N’s pool of hair, and she smiled, heart warming and hopeful. Suddenly you remembered the feel of your own hands tangling in between your locks as you stood on your tiptoes, trying to imitate your mothers braid on yourself in the mirror you couldn't reach. You pretended, only for a moment before it twisted into knots.
What a cruel joke, you thought as you watched Eva receive the world from Fred, from your parents, from your friends and from every damn person you had met.
You cried on a big set of stairs that night, your wails echoing as you asked whoever, whatever what you had done. What you had done to deserve such treatment from the people around you. It was rather cliche - and maybe a bit too dramatic. It was an uncomfortable seat of course, and your body, as well as your heart, ached. Pain, misery, false hope and enough hair spray to melt the ozone.
The princesses always cried on big sets of stairs, uncomfortable stone floors causing them to shiver while they hid away their beautifully animated faces in their perfect hands. This was different, there was no fairy godmother to fix your makeup and clone a gentlemanly Fred Weasley, a perfect prince. You knew, because you cried, and prayed and cried and prayed until your throat was sore. There was no fairy godmother, it was all a lie. There was no happy ending. There would be none.
No one came to find you that night either, and you had to drag yourself back to the Gryffindor common room, feet bare, mascara, blush - anything else you put on in hopes of being able to become like Eva even only for one night - practically nonexistent from the way your tears washed them away.
You didn't sleep that night, and your head was unusually clear, pounding, but clear. You laid awake, eyes blood-shot and stinging while your dress shuffled uncomfortably between your sheets. You were too tired to change, and your dress was far too pretty to be worn so short.
Ginny's words replayed over and over again. "They're not worth it." her voice was so clear, and true. Mr and Mrs Burke weren't worth it. Your parents weren't worth it. Fred Weasley wasn't worth it. Eva wasn't worth it. The midnight chirping of bugs invited themselves in from your open window, and blue moonlight streaks beaming down in lines from the tulle curtain flowed with breeze, it was calming.
You felt calm, for the first time in sixteen years. You felt calm.
Fred and Eva started dating that week. Everyone acted like they expected it, and you realized just how blind you had been. Eva Burke and Fred Weasley, golden couple of Hogwarts.
You watched them, emotionless, as they embraced with love and so much passion that you felt embarrassed. Embarrassed at how you’d blushed and squeal over Fred in front of Eva and George and anyone who had found out because now you knew. Now you knew that their amused smiles were probably pitying grimaces because they knew that you two were never meant to be. It was always Fred and Eva.
Fred was an amazing boyfriend, making sure Eva was taken care of, lovingly staring at her whenever and wherever, arm looped around her waist at all times; you realized they were truly not worth it.
"You disgust me."
You didn't mean the words to escape so carelessly, but when you said them, you realized you didn't want to take them back. The growing pit in your stomach felt weightless. "Excuse me?" said Fred, stopping his nibbling on Eva's neck, who was just as shocked. You scoffed, Eva already had enough purple bruises to parade around so why did Fred have the need to add more?
"You heard me right," George, Lee, Ron, Harry, Katie and whoever sitting in their circle stared at you, wide-eyed, Ginny and Hermione, however, were grinning devilishly. Kind ____, wouldn't hurt a fly, quiet at times and didn't know how to stand up for herself. It was shocking, but you were done pretending. You didn't want to be like that anymore, you wanted to say whatever came to mind and not worry about the consequences. "You guys disgust me, I know I should be supportive but you don't match, at all."
You turned to George. "And you, no you can't talk about Katie like that." George went pink. "You're disgusting for sleeping around carelessly and telling girls you'd write, stop giving people false hope. Grow up. You’re nearly an adult and you can’t even treat a girl right."
"And you Lee," Lee went quiet. "What gives you the right to make fun of me like that. I'll wear whatever the fuck I want, just because you don't have the courage to wear a headband. If you can talk about my breasts, I'll talk about your shrimp."
"Ron, you take advantage of Hermione then lead her on. Open your eyes, asshole."
"Harry, you're not the main character. You're not always going to be the center of attention, nor do you have the right to yell at your friends."
"Alicia, god you're so stupid. I'm sorry, you're great but such an airhead. No, you can't ride a Thestral if you can't see them, and stop eating quill ink they're bad for you."
You stood up, grinning proudly, heart loud in your chest you feared someone might hear. "Frankly, I don't wanna be friends anymore. I'm done with this façade, except you two, 'Gin, Hermione. The rest of you are just so fake." she gestured to them. "Boys," she nodded again. "Don't talk to me anymore, and Lee, give me back the money, think it's about time don't you think? I've been paying for you since third year."
And with that, you left. You left Three Broomsticks, grin wide and chest heaving. Hermione and Ginny ran behind, whooping and cheering you on as they laughed.
The news of your outburst spread fast like wildfire caught in wind. That week was bliss, you no longer had to watch Fred and Eva, nor did you have to act sweet to anyone. You didn't have to laugh along Lee's sexist jokes and look away to wince, it was pure bliss. You realized that the feeling of being free didn’t have to be momentary.
Pansy Parkinson was surprisingly a good friend, she didn't have the same fakeness to her, the one Eva had where her smile was too kind. She spoke her mind, though every Slytherin did, and you liked that. Ginny wasn't happy with your new found friends, but she couldn't separate you. You made your own decisions from now on. It was refreshing.
You told your new friends everything, eager to get it off your chest and breathe, and they listened. For the first time, someone listened. You didn't have to get good grades, nor did you have to act like a sweet angel.
You teared up the first time Pansy said; "It's not your fault,". You knew it wasn't your fault, but hearing someone else say it with such genuine eyes made you believe. Actually believe.
It started off with you watching from the sidelines as Draco and Blaise pranked, insulted and shamed whatever your old friend group did. It wasn't unusual for Draco to act this way, but he got especially irritated after hearing what you told them. Blaise, someone usually quiet, had stepped up and decided to somehow release the pent up anger he had for the Gryffindor students.
The year ended, and you had started to sneak in an insult or two towards Fred and Eva. It felt nice, like finally, step by step you were clearing your years of hidden jealousy. But, there was no one to tell you that this simply wasn't the right way.
That summer, you stayed at the Burrow. Ginny had invited you and you were quick to say yes; obviously a fact forgotten. Fred, George and whoever you had insulted last year stayed in the same house. You simply didn't want to go home, and if this meant seeing Fred Weasley then you had to endure it.
Molly Weasley was the sweetest person you could ever meet, and it was genuine. It felt genuine, you feared your teeth might rot if the woman got another word in. Molly greeted you as if you were her own daughter she hadn't seen in years. You felt valued, seen.
Until Eva was there, Fred invited her. You had to watch the only person you were able to love, introduce the only person he was able to love to his mother. It wasn't you. It would never be you.
And you realized, even after everything, Eva had once again found a way to be more loved than you.
The grin Molly broke out was nothing short of beautiful, and you couldn't help but smile as well. The smile wasn't directed towards you of course, and you sat on that small kitchen chair, celebrating a relationship that caused your ruin.
Eva didn't care that your friendship was over, nothing budged in her life. She still got the same attention, still received the same love from Fred. The same affection, the same attention and the same everything. Or so it seemed.
Though unlike Eva, Fred merely watched you with sad eyes.
You stayed clear of the couple and the rest. You hung out with Ginny and Hermione only, ignoring the dirty looks Ron and Harry gave you. The secret, whispered insults Eva threw your way. George didn't say anything, but he didn't object either. This was enough to show how he felt. At this point you really didn't care. Why would you, when they didn’t either?
You held your head high just like Ginny and Hermione told you to, and you spoke in a loud and clear tone whenever asked something. Eva didn't, she stuttered when you spoke to her directly. Her words scrambled against each other when she tried to voice her insults in louder statements than a whisper. For the first time, you felt relief. You felt intimidating, protected by the barriers you had built around yourself.
Longest day of summer hit, and it boiled. Tanning became a distant dream, you would bake in this weather, and you were thankful to the big AC box you had brought from home. You couldn't sleep that night, sweat beads falling down your forehead that was already covered in a thin sheen. You had decided to get a cold glass of water, not sure how you ended up face to face with Fred Weasley. His wand tip shone with blue light, and his freckles were much darker because of the sun. It seemed the sun decided to be cruel to Fred Weasley back and wash Fred over with it's deathly heat. He was sunburnt, this was an understatement. He was burnt.
You couldn't help but start laughing when you met, ignoring the proximity, ignoring the sleeping house, dead silent and a big leap from the lively Burrow, ignoring Fred's soft breaths he let out every other second. You couldn't live off on false hope anymore.
Suddenly it wasn't so funny anymore, and your face quickly fell. You took a big step back and inhaled, ready to ignore him like you had been doing for the past year. But Fred Weasley was a persistent man, and he gripped your arm and looked at you with determined, doe-like eyes. "Tell me what I did wrong." he said, adamant on fixing this, whatever this was. You both didn't know.
You stood silent.
"Please flower,"
"Don't call me that." you said, stern and gaze sharp. Fred didn't react, he kept on insisting.
"Please, tell me how to fix this. I can fix it," he pleaded, a plethora of empty promises fell out of his lips like nothing. He lied like it was nothing, he was oblivious to everything he and everyone around them had put you through. It was infuriating.
You didn't say anything. You knew he would not fix anything but maybe staying silent would give him the false hope that spinned mockingly in your head for the past eighteen years.
"I'm sorry, just please. I can fix this, I promise, don't be like that." empty tears fell down from his eyes. He looked empty, tired. They lacked the charm they usually shined with and you wondered if it was only you that caused such dullness. Eye bags prominent that you never noticed before. It all felt like a lie, a cruel joke.
Fred Weasley was simply a cruel joke. His presence could only be compared to a shot of whiskey, especially when you down it like how Hagrid nurses a Firewhiskey filled pint glass. You never know how it will hit you. But in the end, you'd always find yourself curled next to the toilet, crying your eyes out because your headache was simply too much.
He was sobbing now, hanging onto your waist like you would simply vanish and you let him. The grip he had on was like steel vice - almost concerning - but you didn't touch him, didn't say anything. You just let him be, like he did to you. Allowed him to hopelessly hang off you before you would eventually leave him alone, like he did to you. "Where did I go wrong? How could we end up like this? What went wrong?"
‘You’, but your voice couldn’t be found.
Questions were useless when the answer was already right in front of his eyes. You didn’t let a single tear fall, you wouldn't forgive yourself if you cried in front of him.
You blinked, and that night was over. Summer continued on like nothing happened, like it didn't leave you heart broken and in such shame yet again. You continued on ignoring Fred as he looked at you with sorrowful eyes. Looked at you more, with more than he did his own girlfriend.
You blinked and the school year started again with another terror looming around the corner. There was simply no need to keep up anymore, because school was easy. You attended classes, got good grades, a few scar here and there from Umbridge's torture chamber, a woman who stood at a whopping five foot three yet still teriffied an entire school.
You blinked and you had already become a proud member of Draco's insult the Gryffindor's club. You didn't even feel bad, being horrible to the people you hated for years felt like a breath of fresh air. You didn't go as far as physically hurting any of your old friends, but coming up with damaging insults was such fun. A lot more fun than sitting around with a fake smile.
You blinked, and you were already moving out from your childhood house. Mr and Mrs Y/L/N were unusually happy, this was a given. They would have a new empty room and make another office, like they didn't have enough already. You feared they would start getting rid of bathrooms once too into their work, and they would have to do their business in bushes or buckets. Scratch that, you didn't fear that, it would be fucking hilarious.
You blinked, and when had time passed too quickly? Where did all those empty childhood years had gone? You were already graduating, on your way to become an Auror. You had lost contact with all your old friends now, regretfully Ginny and Hermione too.
The war had hit too quickly, luckily you survived, so did your friends. Unluckily, it left you with a nasty scar right across your left brow. It looked sick, but the hit wasn't worth it. It hurt like a bitch. You could see, it was a close call but vision wasn't an issue. The trauma though, god did Bellatrix's breath smell bad.
When it was all over, you had seen Fred hugging his family tightly. It seemed the Weasley's all survived, and you gave them each tight lipped smiles while holding a bunched up rag to your head to stop the blood gushing out. This wasn't the reunion you wanted to have with Ginny, but hey, you take what you can get after a revolutionary Wizarding war you barely made out alive.
Before a franticly running Fred could reach you though, you apparated to your flat in Diagon Alley, ignoring the thrumming of your heart, and how you practiced in front of a mirror to congratulate their successful joke shop that morning.
#angst#hp angst#fred weasley x reader#fred weasley fluff#fred weasley#fred weasley x y/n#weasley twins#fred weasley angst#fred weasley smut#fred weasley series#reader insert#harry potter fluff#harry potter fic#fred weasley imagine
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HQ Captains - Thigh Riding
Pairing: Daichi x Fem!Reader, Oikawa x Fem!Reader, Kuroo x Fem!Reader, Bokuto x Fem!Reader, Ushijima x Fem!Reader, Yuuji x Fem!Reader
Rating: E
Word Count: 2.2k
Warnings: (placed before each drabble under the name header)
Notes: My first haikyuu piece and I’m fairly certain it’s trash lmao. I’ve had this idea in my head for a while and I thought about sending it to a hq writer as a request but decided to try and tackle it on my own? I just needed a break from bnha. Couldn’t be bothered to make my own header gif for just drabbles. Oops. I think I mentioned it in all of them, but just in case I didn’t all characters are aged up to college years.
Warnings: Public orgasm, minor depiction of D/s relationship?, Daddy!Daichi
If there was one thing you absolutely loved about your boyfriend, it was his beautifully thick thighs. Every volleyball game had you drooling and you absolutely hated having to wait after a match to strip him of his clothes and beg him for a victory fuck. Not that you had to really try to convince him. The adrenaline after a good match always had him hard as a rock in no time.
However, before you could get to that point. He always insisted on taking the team out for a celebratory dinner at a nearby restaurant that had supported the college team for years. They helped with fundraising and often gave donations to the team for new equipment or uniforms, so Daichi always thought it was only proper to return the favor with a little business.
This meant you had to be incredibly frustrated for a few hours after the game, and it led you into some very...intense situations. For instance, you found that if you pressed his buttons long enough, then he will get angry and he will punish you. One of those punishments (your favorite one, actually) was when he patted his thigh for you to sit on it.
He’d bounce it hard against your already needy cunt. Everyone else was too wrapped up in their own side conversations to notice how your face suddenly turned bright red. He holds you in a death grip as he forces you to put on a show for him, anything to stop your incessant whining for his dick. Soon enough you bite the inside of your cheek to keep from making even the tiniest of moans as the entire team is literally right there in front of you. You come undone fairly quickly, somehow being even more turned on by him taking control of you.
Sugawara totally notices but keeps it to himself, making a point to distract the first years from looking your way.
Warnings: Public sex, vaginal sex, jealousy
At a club one night, back in one of the booths in the dark, you had been pouting about all the attention your boyfriend was receiving. He was always such a flirt and a ladies man that you knew he simply could not help himself. He thrived on attention after all and this wasn’t anything new.
You climbed into his lap, pushing the table back to give you room as you straddled one lean thigh. The college captain was giving you a bright-eyed look. “What are you doing, love?” He asked, voice low but you could still hear him over the thrum of the loud music due to his close proximity.
“Showing all those bitches who you belong to.” You said coarsely, grabbing onto the edges of his jacket to hold onto as you rolled your hips slowly, dragging your clothed pussy up his thigh. The friction sending shocks of pleasure up through your body.
Oikawa would be all for this. He’s such a little exhibitionist at heart. Making people hear you scream his name was definitely his most favorite kink. He’d place his hands on your hips and guide them back and forth, making you go faster and harder until you were crying out for him with sheer need.
He wouldn’t be able to handle not whipping his dick out in the end, not letting you cum before he can tug the middle of your panties to the side underneath your dress and just senselessly fuck you then and there.
Either no one noticed or no one dared to stop the famous Oikawa Toru.
Warning: public orgasm (I have a problem okay), minor dirty talk
Kuroo could be one of the most conniving pieces of shit and that was something you absolutely loved about him. He was always teasing you in public, getting you going so that you’d pull him into some dark corner just to satisfy your needs. Would he oblige you or simply let you suffer until later? It entirely depended on how generous he was feeling that day.
Today was the former, and the entire time in the dark movie theater he had been conspiring to find a way to get you off. First his hand started on your knee, then slowly crept up your thigh, squeezing at optimal points in the film (typically during the steamier scenes). He didn’t particularly like romance films, which made it easier to focus on you instead.
The first indication that he was getting to you was the tiniest of mewls that came from you when his pinky brushed against your clit under your skirt. He knew then and there that he had you. You would quickly turn into putty in his very capable and experienced hands.
He smoothly leaned over and whispered into your ear a simple suggestion to get onto his lap and watch the movie from there. It didn’t take much convincing, really. It never did. You moved into his lap, sitting on one thigh while continuing to face the movie. He had instructed you to not look away and to not resist. Since when did you ever resist him?
Kuroo planted his hands firmly on your hips and began to guide them back and forth. Oh, you immediately thought. This was totally different then what you were expecting. Tiny bolts of pleasure ebbed through you as your pussy moved across the rough material of his jeans. Fuck, why did this feel so good?
He leaned forward to whisper into your ear, “Don’t make a sound, kitten, or they’ll all know what a dirty girl you’re being.” He said before licking the shell of your ear with his cat-like tongue. You shuddered against him, unable to fight as you urged him to move you faster.
You panted quickly, keeping your eyes and face forward as he began to roughly drag you back and forth while you climbed higher and higher, eventually crashing down as you were swept up with your own pleasure. You had to place a hand over your mouth, thankful that this part of the movie was a little louder than the rest to muffle the moan that you couldn’t stop from coming out of you.
When you were done, Kuroo leaned you back against his chest, hands lazily around your waist as he planted soft kisses on your neck. He always did love winning and every orgasm was definitely a victory.
Warnings: public orgasm (...again, I know), minor dubcon, voyeurism?
“Hey! Hey! Hey!” Bokuto said rather loudly as you sauntered over to him, “if it isn’t my baby girl!” His owlish grin spread across his face as he reached out to grab your wrist, pulling you into his lap. It was an after party after a pretty close match with Nekoma and the captain was feeling particularly fiery after the win.
You giggled at him, allowing him to cuddle you for a moment. His face buried into your neck, inhaling your sweet perfume as he wrapped his arms around your waist in a close hug. He was always extremely affectionate after a good game, and if Fukurodani won...well it was game on in an entirely different way.
Bokuto’s knee bounced rhythmically and naturally you were forced to bounce along with it. Your legs shifted so you were straddling his perfect thigh and you couldn’t help the small moan that came after he hit your clit at a particularly electrifying angle. “Oh yeah?” He asked, a sly look crossing his face. “You like that, huh?”
“Bokuto,” You said in a threatening tone, knowing that you didn’t want to do something like this out in the open where anyone could see you. And by the look on his face, that is exactly what he was thinking about doing. However you could rarely stop him when he got started on a new and improved way of getting you off.
His hands shifted to your hips and guided them to move in rhythm with his bouncing thigh. The quick small jerks of his thigh, the friction against your clit, it just felt so incredibly good that you couldn’t help but give in.
To keep your moans muffled you chose to kiss him, squeezing his shoulders for support as he stopped moving your hips. You had already taken over, choosing your own pace to go at that would make you hit your peak in no time.
Akaashi and the other teammates, noticing what was going on, watched curiously until they were sure you had had an orgasm. Akaashi gave the other three a knowing nod and they started cheering for their captain. Bokuto looked back at them with the biggest grin they had ever seen.
Warnings: Public orgasm, possessiveness, jealousy, D/s dynamic?
With Ushijima, PDA was always a hard pass. He wasn’t very affectionate outside of your private lives, and you had come to terms with that. It didn’t mean he wasn’t an excellent and attentive lover when he wanted to be. Sometimes though it would have been nice to be able to show off that you were dating such a powerhouse of a player.
You had managed to drag him to a party celebrating Shiratorizawa’s victory in a recent regional tournament. You knew he needed to de-stress, it was always so obvious to you and getting him to relax could sometimes be a nightmare.
Shortly after you arrived, he mentioned he was going to go tell Satori something about the last game and for you to go dance. Ushijima wasn’t much of a dancer himself but boy did he love watching you move your hips to the music.
What he hadn’t expected when he came back from speaking with his teammate was the sight of another man trying to grind against your ass. Obviously you weren’t paying him no mind, trying to slip from his grasp time and time again.
Ushijima wasn’t affectionate, no. But he was possessive. Anyone dares put their hands on you in his sight was bound to regret it and tonight was no different. He quickly marched over to you and pulled you into his broad chest. You looked up at him with a knowing smile. On a normal night Ushijima would never dance with you. But add a spark of jealousy and he’d do just about anything.
You moved your body against his, enjoying the closeness as his leg slipped between yours. It may have been an accident or it may have been on purpose. You weren’t entirely sure. Either way, you take it upon yourself to begin to grind against his large thigh, eyes glossing over at the delicious feeling of arousal.
He glanced down at you before returning to staring down the man that had been attempting to dance with you, seemingly paying more attention to the advisory than his own girlfriend. That was fine, you were now enjoying yourself plenty by thrusting your hips with the beat, his hands on your ass. Once it hit him what you were doing, pleasuring yourself by the use of his limb, he leaned down and whispered threateningly into your ear. “If you cum now, you’ll pay for it later.”
It was a very valid threat, you knew that fair and well. That didn’t stop you from releasing your hold on your orgasm, allowing you to come undone in his arms all at once. Ushijima immediately wrenched you from him before grabbing your wrist in a bruising grip with an absolutely murderous look on his face. You were too busy basking in the afterglow to even care for whatever punishment he had in mind as he dragged you to a private room.
Warnings: minor dubcon, light dirty talk at the end
Honestly you only started dating Yuuji because he wouldn’t leave you the hell alone until you gave him your number. And then he simply harassed you until you said yes to a date. However, after that first date he showed how much fun and playful he could be and you totally fell for the idiot albeit reluctantly.
He is always finding new ways to explore sex with you. Anything to make it even more fun than it already is. The idea was totally his because you were always squeezing his thighs or playing with the hem of his shorts because you just couldn’t keep your hands to yourself when you were with the giant loud ball of energy.
The first time he decides to branch out and try this, you’re both on his couch watching a professional match. Your fingers are teasing his skin, fiddling with his pants as usual when he guides you into his lap so that your leg is between is.
You give him a quizzical look and he just has that face that tells you that he’s about to make you cum whether you like or not (spoiler alert: you always like it). He puts his hands on either side of your hips and forces them to rut against his leg, causing you to shudder with delight.
You take the hint quickly and begin moving at your own pace, finding a particularly wonderful angle that gave your clit the right amount of stimulation. “Fuck, baby, look at you getting off to my thigh.” Yuuji says with that shit eating grin. He always took pride in discovering something new for you to enjoy. He clicked the stud of his tongue ring against his teeth, something he tended to do when he was particularly excited.
“F-Fuck,” You whimpered as you came on his leg, now wet with your slick. Yuuji was grinning madly, eyes sparkling with joy.
“Yahoo, baby! You came all over my thigh, how did that feel? Bet you’d feel even better with my cock buried in you-”
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Tag List: @dabi-hates-fish, @rivendell101, @honeytama, @lovelusional, @gallickingun (didn’t include people who asked me to tag everything because I wasn’t sure if they wanted to be tagged in hq stuff!)
#hq#haikyuu!!#haikyū!!#sawamura daichi#oikawa torū#oikawa tooru#bokuto kotaro#ushijima wakatoshi#yuuji terushima#daichi x reader#oikawa x reader#kuroo x reader#bokuto x reader#ushijima x reader#yuuji terushima x reader#daichi smut#oikawa smut#kuroo smut#bokuto smut#tw: dubcon#kuroo tetsurou
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the watchtower’s lighthouse | stan vogel
pairing: stan vogel x reader
warnings: smut, swearing
summary: months after a disasterous first date with stan vogel, your paths cross once more when you’re lost within the depths of kern canyon national park during a thunderstorm and stan happens to have inherited a shift patrolling from the watchtower.
a/n: back from the dead because of this man. hope y’all enjoy :)
THE SKY EMULATED STAN VOGEL'S morals, consisting of gray unpredictability. If he was within the familiar walls of his assigned cabin, located along the grounds of Kern Canyon National Park, it would be an indication he wouldn't have to do much patrolling. Campers usually stayed put if there was rainfall, sticking to their own site and not off doing God knows what to the land Stan takes pride in preserving. Cascading a thick husk of superiority and knowledge was his favorite thing about the job, which is why he was disappointed he was stuck maintaining the watchtower for tonight.
The surveillance for the watchtower was run by a tight knit schedule of volunteers and the occasional firefighter that needed a change of scenery for a couple days. Needless to say with all the strange occurrences and sightings, there have been less and less people willing to take on the task. And now the duty was bestowed upon the park ranger— at least for tonight. He swore to himself that at sunrise he would be out of there and back to being the persistent, vexing gum stuck to the bottom of everyone's shoe.
Stan now sat in a wobbly chair, feet propped up on the desk and his trusty binoculars in hand. His surroundings were darkening, quicker than they would at his cabin because of the parade of trees towering over the area. He could mostly only see shadows and the outlines of the forest. His paranoia kept him on the lookout, knowing all too well what kind of perilous entities the park harbored, dark secrets he was trusted in keeping.
It was why his body jolted and he nearly fell out of his seat at a sign of movement. His hands itched to drop the binoculars and reunite with the shotgun propped up in the corner. His burst of anxiety was halted, however, once the lenses revealed a person. A wandering, soaked person clearly becoming victim to the thunderstorm that had been periodically easing and worsening for the past two hours.
Stan stood, walking over to the window with his binoculars hanging from the strap around his neck. He easily pried it open and stuck out his head. The drizzle of rain didn't reach him because of the roof stretching out along the perimeter of the watchtower, but he still felt the dip in the temperature. He estimated that it had dropped at least fifteen degrees since the start of the storm, the disappearance of the sun only escalating the drafty change.
He was about to shout down at what is most certainly a woman who had strayed too far from her campsite but then she twisted around, finally noticing the light emitting from up above. Recognization crumbles both of their attentive expressions. She becomes more than a drenched, carmine tank top, huddled body, and ropes of wet hair. He transforms into the exact opposite of a saving grace when his beige uniform and ironically angelic face are perceived.
"Well, well, well. Look who it is. Stalking your ex, eh?" Stan called down to her. The pattern of swift and drawned out words, swirled into a provoking and often mocking Australian accent, reached her ears over the light patter of rainfall.
She sighed, dramatically enough for Stan to see the rise and fall of her diaphragm. She considered turning around and braving the unknown of the wilderness again. If it wasn't for her sore feet and her prediction that she would develop some sort of hyperthermia if she stayed out in the cold, then she would've already been on her way.
"We went out on one date. You don't count as an ex," she clarified, craning her neck up at him. His smirk from knowing she was in a miserable condition and that he was the only one that could do anything about it ignited the first sense of heat she had felt in awhile. Her fists clenched against her crossed arms. "And you're the one with the pervy binoculars. On the prowel for half-naked campers, are you?"
He scoffed, winding his head to the side for a moment. "Enough with the bullshit. Are you coming up or not?"
In any other situation, he probably would've dragged their reunion out, teased her for being so helpless and naive. But she was shivering and looked so small curling into herself; it was a sight that played his heartstrings like a mystical harp. Even after a date gone wrong and the resentment that followed, he couldn't bare to see her like this.
She, on the other hand, still clung to some hesitation. Cozying up in a small, confined space with Stan where there were no other people around to ground her into the realms of sanity wasn't a compelling option. The both of them simply didn't get along. The nightmare of their date was very vivid in her mind, too, and she didn't want tonight to be a repeat of that.
Almost like nature could sense her doubts, thunder crackled and reverberated around the forest. Lightning flashed, incandescent and forbiding. The rain intensified, hitting her bare skin with a harsh force. Muddy shoes stumble forward a few steps but still don't gravitate towards the ladder.
"Better move your ass, sweetheart! Unless you'd prefer to get struck by lightning? Not to mention all the dangerous things lurking around that you haven't the slightest idea about."
Undeniable complacency was weaved into his taunt. However, it did get her moving. If she would've bothered to look up or if there wasn't such vast distance between them from their differing heights, she might've seen the concern nestled into glimmering, cobalt eyes.
Suffering through a climb where her wobbly legs and white knuckles were put the use, she eventually made it to top. Stan already had the latch swung open, bent down in the center of the room and waiting for her with an outstretched arm. Reluctantly, she took his offered hand and allowed him to pull her inside the watchtower.
"Crickey, you're freezing," he murmured. There was a softness to his features and the low timber of his voice. He'd even began rubbing over her fingers with his own, attempting to summon some warmth back into him, before he realized what he was doing and backed away.
"That's what happens when you get lost and separated from your friends and then get caught up in a storm," she summed up, monotonous.
"Your friends are idiots," Stan muttered.
She was about to deter the insults back his way until she suddenly felt a subtle weight on her shoulders. The scent combination of spearmint gum and lingering campfire smoke was sensed with a mere sniffle, and soon her hands were reaching up to pull on the sage green trim of his coat.
"You don't even know them," she settled for saying.
"They let you get lost, didn't they?" Stan's eyes found her wide ones, squinting slightly in familiar anger, but she could tell—this time at least—it wasn't directed towards her. "Yeah, bunch of mates, they are."
It was her turn to break the intimacy blossoming between them. She disconnects their stare that was inevitably going to convey all the unspoken feelings that still flourished inside of her to spare a glance over his shoulder. The furnace filled with a burning stack of dry wood lures her away from Stan, and she kneels down in front of it.
His hands go to his belt, elbows bent outward like he was posing as a chicken. He was unsettled by how consumed he was by his emotions. He wanted to give her space but then he finds himself reaching for her. He wanted to remain civil but the distaste in her tone and her infuriating, unreasonable glare casted towards him causes him to delve into his own hostile urges. The confusion of what to do and how to deal with her presence was boardering on insufferable.
But facing her, watching her beneath the firelight, the strain of his internal compass ebbed. He was no longer directionless or purposeless. The orange glare enducing a riveting shine to her hair and her tranquil countenance she upheld gazing into the flames had him feeling certain in just about every single thing that made the universe, the universe.
"You're staring," she whispers, a tremble in her reply she blames on recovering from the weather.
"And you won't even look over at me for a second." His observation coaxes her into peering at him, finding that he enclosed the distance between them by a few steps. A playful smile twitches across his lips. "What? Don't like a man in uniform?"
"I wouldn't be bragging about your outfit, Stan. You're a glorified Boy Scout," she remarks, rising from her position on her knees. Her thumb and pointer finger pinch the small, golden slate pinned to his shirt. "Even have badges and everything,"
"Get your grubby little hands away from my name tag. You're gonna smudge it," he grumbles, smacking her hand away; she lets out a humorless, short-lived laugh at his overreaction.
"Still an uptight asshole, I see."
"Still a mouthy brat, then?"
His retort makes her face harden. "Being honest doesn't make me a mouthy brat."
"Just inconsiderate?"
"You're preaching to me about being inconsiderate? You live off of ridiculing people. On our date, you insulted and humiliated our waiter because he didn't know the exact species of deer mounted to the wall."
"I was just taking a moment to educate him!"
"You called him a fumbling idiot who didn't know the basic fundamentals of biology!"
"Oh, like you were any better! Shoving your tits into the bartender's face to get free drinks!" He throws his hands up, easily overtaken by frustration and unresolved jealously.
"I know how much you make, Stan. You should be thanking me for that," she says slowly, deliberately, bringing up the one thing she knows will push him over the edge. He takes the bait, but she doesn't expect what he throws back at her.
"You're right. Thank you, sweetheart, for acting like such a slut on our first date that all anyone had to do for dessert was crouch down between your open legs."
Her mouth dropped at his statement. His exasperation dissolves to shock at processing his own harsh comment. He isn't able to focus on it for long, though, because she properly acts by allowing her palm to connect to his cheek.
Head snapped to the side, he can begin to taste a droplet of blood on his tongue, emitting from where his incisor pinched his bottom lip. He licks over the minor wound thoughtfully, heaving out a breath of false amusement. When he looks at her again, his face is dark and full of cruel intentions of revenge.
Stan surges forward and doesn't stop until her body crashes against the wall like she was just a bag of dismantled bones. His coat falls from her shoulders and slumps against the hardwood floor during the journey. His towering height and weight pin her in place, leaving her at the mercy of splayed hands and the relentless motions of his mouth against hers.
The awakening, leftover flavor of gum he must've chewed eariler just sinks in when he bites down hard on her lip. A whimper, the first sound she makes besides the ejection of a surprised gasp, is forced out her from the harsh gesture. A metallic taste replaces the one prior, one eager swipe of his tongue rolling past her parted lips.
The instinct to shoot her hands up and enmesh them in the soft, chestnut strands of his cropped hair is interrupted by an action of his own. He eases the intensity of the kiss, allowing her to breathe through languid, desperate puckers she reciprocates, but his fingers hook around both her bra and tank top straps, yanking them down her arms. She lifts herself out of them only to have him grasp the collar of her shirt and pull it down, her bra in tow, until they were just bundled material around her midriff.
Calloused hands fondled her breasts while his mouth diverts to her neck, sucking and nipping until her skin resembled the colorful patches of a quilt. She throws her head back against the wall, leaning into his touch and letting out the most delicate moans that had all of his blood gushing to the apex of his legs; she felt proof of it when he rutted himself against her.
Her forearms are squeezed between their bodies so she can reach the buttons of his shirt, manicured fingers working hastily and with not as much care she knew Stan would've liked, but he seemed to be too preoccupied by kissing her all over. Soon her hands were tugging up the white t-shirt he always wore underneath his uniform, and he helped her out by shifting it over his head and discarding it to the growing pile of clothes.
His chest was warm and inviting compared to hers. Her skin felt like cool marble underneath his fingertips, keeping her nipples pebbled and sweat from the heated exchange at bay. It was quite a contrast as their bodies continued to press together, her hands sliding along the expanse of his taut back while he concentrated on undoing her shorts.
"All mine," he mumbled against her jaw; it was certainly hard to disagree with him and all his handsy clutches and kisses that left her craving more.
"All yours," she confirmed softly.
The words barely left her mouth before she felt the heart-jolting sensation that was his hand sliding past her unzipped shorts and underwear. His fingers ran up and down down her folds, taking his time, ever the explorer. He often grazed her clit, encouraging her hips to arch into him for more direct contact, but he was careful to only give her a slight, fleeting amount.
"Stan." His name parted from her in a low whine—somewhat shamefully because she never thought she'd be in this circumstance, begging a hardass park ranger with a major superiority complex for a release.
"So wet for me. Awful naughty of you to get this soaked from one arguement with me, don't you think?"
She nuzzled her face into the side of his, nose brushing along his chiseled cheekbone. "Please."
"Aw, look at you. So sweet. You'd never think that you live to slander me."
"I have no idea what you're talking about. I am nothing but nice to you."
"Oh?" He inserts his middle finger into her, curling it precisely, while the heel of his hand grinds against her clit with every deliberate pump.
"Yes," she gasps.
Shallow pants gradually rack through her torso, and the ache of his throbbing cock becomes unbearable at the sight of her defenseless against his advances. He adds another finger, the grip and warmth of her slick walls causing him to shudder in anticipation.
"Such a little liar," he groans out after a particularly provocative contraction around his digits, one that rids him of whatever patience he had left.
He abruptly removes his hand from her shorts, something that makes her closed eyes flicker open. Her mouth immediately morphs into a pout and she squeezes his biceps in protest.
She isn't left waiting for long, hands on her hips guiding her away from the wall until the underside of her knees hit the edge of a cot. His mouth parts from hers once more, a sweet dragging of overlapped lips exchanged during the slow steps, so he can pull back the blanket. She looks over her shoulder at the neatly presented cot, which Stan must've brought with him along with his own fitted bedspread. She was now appreciative that he always came prepared.
Without having to be told, she crawled underneath the covers after ridding herself of the remainder of her clothing. Stan did the same once she was settled, becoming the final layer that draped over her body. The blanket and the crisp white of a top sheet stopped at the dimples of his back, and she was trapped in warmth, intensified by the glorious weight of his bare body on hers. Arms on either side of her head latch the cage as he leans down for another kiss.
"Don't mistake me keeping you warm as forgiveness. I'm still very mad at you. You drive me crazy," he sighs against her jaw, his eyelashes fluttering against the apple of her cheek.
"Don't mistake me moaning for you as an apology. You don't deserve one." Her strokes at the nape of his neck never faltered. Her thighs spread, legs winding around his, desperate for him to do something with his cock that laid twitching and swollen on her navel. "Well, you might if you fuck me hard enough."
"Shut up already."
Long fingers brick over her parted mouth in time with the repositioning of his hips, muffling the cries of consumption that came from him sinking inside of her. Eyes roll to the back of her head, almost completely sated by just the feeling of being filled. The head of his shaft glided against her most sensitive spot like a brush of shoulders, and her thighs tightening around his waist was her turning around, ready to chase shattering gratification.
Although slow, his thrusts into her were brutal. They held onto to each other like you would to ropes of a ruinous bridge connecting two cliffs, like they would be faced with a plummeting death if they were to let go. And yet, they were fighting along the wobbly planks, the semicircles of hip bones clashing together like medieval swords. It was all extremes, but neither of them would have it any other way.
He was making the most beautiful sounds above her. Through his ruthless motions, were breathy moans and whines of her name, the occasional praise intertwined into his enticing responses. Eventually, he allowed his hand to stop sealing her lips, sliding it down to clutch the flesh of her thigh with the promise of bruises. Her soft pleas and moans of euphoria joined his to create a symphony worthy of a ballet orchestra.
Strings of saliva conntected rouge lips to the marked skin of his neck, where she continued to suckle and playfully nip. The roll of their bodies picked up speed, both becoming impatient by the delicious ache they kept provoking, daring one another to spasm out of control. They craved for their muscles to become a tightrope and for the most intimate parts of them to pulsate from the finality of release.
"You've never looked prettier than you do right now. Your cunt squeezing me so tight, your mouth only able to form breathless whispers... completely wrecked. I love it."
"Please," she cannot help but beg, flickering eyes undecided on whether to shut her continue their hazy, half-lidded stare into his own.
"You want to come?" The inward pull of his eyebrows and the slight curl of his parted mouth way as well have been a mocking pout. "I know you do. I shouldn't even let you, though. You've been intolerable. I should just come all over your writhing body and leave you here without any satisfaction. Even if you were to finish yourself off, it wouldn't be enough. It would only feel subpar, and you know that, don't you?" His breath fans her face like the furnace had moments ago, and she can only whimper in reply. "Only I can sate you, sweetheart."
Her hands, whose nails had already inflicted damage to the freckled canvas of his back, sweep over his shoulders to cup his jaw. Her thumb strokes his jawline while the other ventures down the column of his throat, feeling the bob of his adam's apple with every constristing swallow he took. She could tell he was close, too, and decided to nod her head gently in agreement to his words, to wave her white flag.
Her surrender is reassured by fingertips dragging down her torso to her enlarged clit, granting bone-vanishing swipes that causes stuttered gasps and limbs going slack. It only takes a few seconds of coaxing rubbing for her release to erupt, the molten lava bursting from the pit of her stomach to electrify just about every nerve in her body. Her encompassing walls clutch around him so tightly that it summons a delirious climax from him.
His strenuous pace wavers, his hold on the cot becoming prudent, as if it was a buoy keeping him afloat through the thrashing waves of pleasure. White, sticky ribbons coat the inside of her thighs, and it's only when his heartbeat ebbs from his eardrums that he cracks his eyes open and collaspes into the small remaining space between her and the wall.
Stan speaks after catching his breath, remaining pants interwoven into his declaration. "This should've happened sooner."
"It would've if you weren't such a prick," she noted, sparing him a quick glance.
"Okay, maybe... I wasn't on my best behavior. But I was nervous. I liked you a lot. I wanted to impress you."
"And you thought bragging about how you're a know-it-all when it comes to plants and wildlife and the park's terrain was going to the trick?"She questioned, snorting at his logic. His nose twitch, an indicator of embarrassment, and she grabs his arm and tucks herself into his side. "You're such a dork."
He smiled at the gesture before she continued, "I'm sorry that I flirted with the bartender. I didn't mean to make you feel like you were second best or anything. Honest to God, I just wanted free stuff."
"Well, the cream puffs you got out of it were actually delicious," Stan admitted, tilting his head in her direction.
She smiled back at him. "I know, right?"
Stan may not be a prime example of a good guy but he had always took glory in being good at his job. That's what kept him going, that's what fueled him all these years. Now, he was considering what life entailed outside of that. Outside of the stressful responsibilities and government conspiracies and the never-ending studious tendencies. She came to him for refuge tonight, but, the truth is, he had been relying on her for a long time. To fascinate him, to stand up to him, to guide him back to where he belonged.
He felt like he was finally pursuing something that was more important than his duties here, than anything else he's ever experienced. He was an off-bound ship, cruising blind into the dead of the night, and she was a lighthouse, promising purpose and salvation from every bad thing that ever tried to sink him.
// idk who to tag but i think @sojournmichael @fckinsupreme & @instinctsxbaby might be interested (you’re all so talented)!
#ahs#cody fern#american horror story#american horror stories#stan vogel#stan vogel smut#cody fern smut#xavier plympton smut#ahs stories#stan vogel x reader
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