#Resistance Cell AU
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How did Duke get de aged? Great question.
Past posts: (1) (2) (3) (4)
@seannasideblog you asked to be tagged, so....tag!
#batfam#batfamily#duke thomas#the signal#de aged duke au#it was not duke's turn to use the bat-brain-cell#to be fair who can resist a good puzzle box?
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Sonic AU idea brewing...
Everyone is already miserable help-
#sonic#sonic au#You're gonna have to look into these tags to find it#Still searching?#Cool I'm gonna fill in space#Waiting for those spoilers Hm?#Keep going...#Keep... Going...#Almost there-#Wait no not there yet#Okay are we there yet?#No? Okay keep going#Going...#Going on...#Where is it you might be asking?#Well uh...#What if Forces-#Sonic Forces. Au.#What if... Eggman won.#For fifteen years.#Got the entire resistance and majority of the populous on an entire space prison dubbed the âEgg Cellâ#And... Took some of Sonic's friends and himself#And forced them to work for him?#Basically his servants.#... Idk I might design some stuff for it
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FACIN' TIME AGAIN !
ďš shoko , fem!toji mention , fem!geto mention , fem!sukuna mentionďšâ ďš fem ¡ prns ă
¤ŕŁ ă
¤× : ᯠcw : prisoner!au , fem!jjk , fÄŤngering , dub con , manipulative behaviour , somášophilia , cĹŤnnilingĹŤs , murder mention ! ďš
đ¨ series : part 1 , part 2 , part 3 , more parts to be added .
shoko wants to be the first one to taste you. she scares you a little, but she also makes you cum so hard you see stars !
you open your eyes and it's dark. you can feel cement walls closing in, body hurting against the textured walls. there's a distinct lack of air, and you struggle to breathe. the scent of copper and bleach invades your senses. your heart beats so much faster and your mouth runs dry. there's an incessant throbbing in your head, almost making you feel a vein pop. you begin to choke, trying your best to cover your offending mouth with your hands.Â
thereâs a blinding light and all you see is white. despite your best efforts to speak, your tongue feels tied. you look down and see your blood covered hands. confused, you look up. you see yourself. someone stands behind you. once you blink away the blurriness from your eyes, you see the form clearly. âfushiguroâ you remember her saying. she grins at you, extending an arm forward to touch you.
âfuck!â you throw yourself awake. your heart pounds so fast, you can feel it in your throat. you are sweating profusely and tears dont stop running down your cheeks. you cover your mouth and try to regulate your breathing. you slowly get down your bunk and head over to the built-in basin to brush your teeth and splash some water on your face.Â
ânightmare?âÂ
you jump instinctively, almost hitting your head. you see shoko on the bed, casually draping herself across the mattress. she doesnât look like she has slept the entire night, dark circles decorating her undereyes.Â
you nod in response, a grim smile painted on your face. âdo you know what time it is, shoko ?âÂ
âi'd say around 4am.â she replies focused on her nails. âyou didnât sleep ?â you ask, worried for someone you met a measly few hours ago.Â
âhavenât really in a very long time. thatâs apparent, is it not ?â she points at the darkening eyebags. your mouth forms a little âoâ and the room becomes awkward.Â
she smiles at your docility. she pats to the space near her. you walk slowly and sit down, a little anxious.Â
âshoko, if you donât mind me askingââ âwhat exactly did i do ? you are too curious for your own good.â she giggles. âif you want to know so bad, i want something in return.â
âin return ? i dont have anythingâŚâ you think, lips pursed together in confusion.
shoko gets on her knees and crowds you against the metal barriers of the bed. her slender hand cups your face, while she lets her other hand travel down your body. you begin to resist her, but she holds you in place.Â
âif you donât want this, alright. i wonât touch you.â she whispers in your ear and loosens the hold she has on you. she retreats back to her former position except this time she lays on her crossed arms behind her head.Â
you swallow the lump in your throat. you look at her eyes widened, and heart beating even faster. her eyes donât leave your trembling form.Â
âbut hereâs the thing, when we leave this cell in a few hours, they will come for you. hah, i know fushiguro is thinking about you under her, right this fucking second.â
her words should terrify you and make you want to piss your pants but some sick perversion settles in your mind and heat pools in your stomach.Â
âyou seem mhm- sorry baby but you are a virgin, arent you ? god, they will eat you up like a fucking delicacy. if geto got her hands on you, you are done for, sweets.â she says faux sympathy dripping down her lips.Â
âdo you want to lose your first time in the canteen as everyone watches ? i donât think so. you would want it to be gentle right ?âÂ
you let her describe the ways in which the inmates would take you. âvulnerable little thingâ she calls you, âeasy to breakâ with a motion of a twig snapping with her hands.Â
âsh-shoko stop, i get it.â you mumble.Â
âi dont think you do, baby, i just want you to go out knowing at least a little bit about what will happen to you.â she sighs, concern dancing in her eyes.
â...fine.â is all you say as you crawl to her and place the softest kiss on her chapped licks. her hand immediately grabs your hip to ground you. she holds as she returns the kiss.
her lips move softly against yours. your eyes are still open as you watch her kiss you wide eyed and unsure. your lashes flutter when she kneads your flesh making you gasp, allowing her to slip her tongue in your awaiting mouth. you are completely new to this feeling but you let her lead. her tongue dances a sinful number against your own. she stops to suck on your tongue, wet noises and squelching echoing through the cell.Â
she tastes like cigarettes and something you canât quite place, something very earthy. âthat feel good ?â she asks, biting your lips. she doesnt wait for an answer as she begins to kiss the smooth skin that is left untouched on your neck. she can still smell the faint hints of your expensive perfume.Â
she slips her thighs between yours. you let out a soft gasp as you feel her slot herself against you. her fingers undo the white buttons on your jumpsuit just so she can reach your hardening nipples. she uses her finger to circle your areola before pressing a sharp pinch to the flushed buds. you cry out, eyes fresh with tears from pleasure and pain. you feel her biting your skin before she noses at your very pulse point. she licks and blows on it, cooling your skin with her sticky spit.Â
she pulls the both of you up, making you sit on her lap, your legs wrapped around her waist. her face now breathes in the scent of your tits, soft skin prickled with gooseflesh. she leaves you sticky and wet, not an inch of skin left uncovered.Â
âfuckââ she whines as she tastes you. youve never felt anything like this before. you unconsciously grind yourself against her, crying for more.
âpatience, prettyâ,â she dips her hand down your underwear. âiâll make you cum alright, dont hurt your pretty head.â
"shoko, feels too goodââ you pant out, bringing your lips to hers, licking and suckling. she canât help but smile at how far your mindâs gone. your eyes are glassy and too far gone, the need to just orgasm rewriting your very code of conduct.Â
she groans into your shoulder when her fingers dip into your wet heat. you are so wet, your very essence dripping down her fingers. she lets her fingers explore your cunt, while her thumb plays with your pretty clit.
her other hand covers your mouth as your moaning begins to grow louder. she knew she would have to share you in the near future but at least in the bubble of your first time, she wanted to gatekeep your sultry sounds.
âyou like this dont you ?â she smirks into your skin, âof course you do, and thatâs okay baby, i'll make you feel so good.â she lifts you to kneel on the bed, positioning her clothed cunt against your knee while she plays with your pretty pussy.
the noises begin to get obscenely loud but you canât help but moan like you are in heat. youâve never felt sensations like this before. all those nights you spent on your soft bed, trying to finger yourself didnât feel half as good as you felt right now.
lost in pleasure, your body nearly vibrates. shoko groans whenever your knee pushes against her, bringing her closer to the edge every second.
her fingers curl into that deep spongy spot that you were never able to reach yourself and that action is enough to send your eyes rolling back. âshooooooâ,â you moan colourfully into her ears, âshokoooo-ooo, im so close, i canâ feel it.â
she shushes you, making out with you once again till you begin to drip drool down the sides of your mouth. âlet go baby, im here.â she whispers into your ear.Â
it doesnt take long for you to be pushed beyond. you cum around her fingers, your slick walls tightening against them. your body feels boneless and you are ready to drift off to sleep. shoko shakes as she reaches her orgasm too, shuddering against your body. it doesnât take long for you to fall asleep in her arms.
you come to your senses after a while, sound sleep restoring your energy. you feel cold though, exposed almost. you feel the softest of licks right on your clit and you immediately open your eyes.
âshoko ?â you call out to the woman in front of you. sheâs too busy eating you out, lips sloshing making a symphony against the wet noises of your cunt.
âhm baby?â you whimper as she sucks on your clit, unable to voice your protests. she lets you grind against her face, painting her in a clear slick of your juices. it doesnât take you long to orgasm this time, considering shoko had you under her tongue for a good while.Â
you cry out, whining as she makes out with your cunt as you cum hard. you push her head away from the overstimulation as she cleans you up with her tongue. âenoughâmhmm,â you stutter, âim s-sensitiveâah!â shoko gives you one last kiss on the hood of your clit and gets up.Â
you watch her with blurry eyes as she brings a washcloth to clean you up, cold against your marked skin. you moan a noise of appreciation as she finishes her aftercare. she helps you into your jumpsuit before she holds you close in bed.Â
â...i guess i can answer you now.âÂ
you turn to look at her. your eyebrows scrunch up in confusion.Â
âwhat exactly did i do to get in here ?â a flicker of recognition sets in your eyes and you nod, awaiting her answer.
âi was working in the emergency room, and they rushed in with this bastard. he deserved to die. he really did. âmedical malpracticeâ my ass. i killed him, baby. watched him choke on his own spit as the drug did its job.âÂ
you watch her lips move in horror. you had slept with a murderer. you had let someone who took away the life of someone else crawl into the deepest parts of your existence and mark their arrival on its walls.
you could feel your body shake.
âwh-why did you kill him ?â you ask, chewing on your bitten lips courtesy of the woman right next to you.
ââi dont want to tell. story for another day.â she builds a barricade between the two of you. a strong invisible wall stands rooted and you know it will take you time to break it down. you decide not to push her even further, worried what she might do if you offended her.Â
âyou are scared, i can feel it.â she looks, a far-off look present in her hazel eyes. she looks almost a little hurt but before you can pin-point that emotion, her face breaks into a smile.
âthe thing that has me confused though, is why you are in here.â she tucks a lock of hair behind your ear before she kisses you softly. she senses your confusion.Â
âthis prison in particular, is for high-risk inmates so who did you piss off in your hearing to land yourself in the same facility as sukuna ?"
tags : @shuuji71 @3zae-zae3 @l0v3m3-p13as3 @parisboo @byerno6
@mimimimilalalalalasstuff @missakward123 @tomiokasecretlover @maskedpacific @diorz
@herefor-tojis-tits @platinumtt @e-dollly @r3komuse
#off to the races ËđËęŠ#genderbend au#jujutsu kaisen#multiple characters#jjk x reader#fem!jjk#wlw smut#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#jjk x reader smut#jjk#jujutsu kaisen x reader#fem!toji#shoko ieiri#shoko x reader#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#shoko smut#i love shoko#jujutsu kaisen shoko#jjk shoko#divider by @/roseschoices
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The Old-Fashioned Way
Pairing: Dean Winchester x F. Reader
Summary: You and Dean are having trouble trying to start a family. What happens when you turn to a spell for a possible solution? [Soulmate AU]
AN: Happy Valentine's Day! âŁď¸ Welcome back to the Never Say Goodbye-verse, my first ever Soulmate AU! Feels appropriate to celebrate today with some soulmates lol.
Honestly, I have really missed these two. I canât believe itâs almost been a year since I wrote this series! And Iâve been wanting to find a way to come back to it, so when I recently got this request, I couldn't resist:
The reader finds out she is pregnant and Deanâs reaction.
But of course, I couldnât make it that simple⌠This story takes place five years after the Bonus Tracks (3-part sequel).
Word Count: 5,000
Tags/Warnings: Established relationship (marriage). Soulmates, angst, issues in pregnancy, hurt/comfort, fluff, implied smut.
â¤ď¸ Series Masterlist
Today marked five years that Dean had been an officer of the Sioux Falls Police Department.
After twenty-eight odd years of committing felonies of varying degreesâŚmostly for the greater good, he still found it strange sometimes.
Heâd been partnered with his father-in-law, Jack, and by now, Dean had finally lost his sense of âimposter syndrome.â
Jody bought him a pie to commemorate the occasion, and while a little embarrassed, he wasnât mad about it. The precinct employees now shared the dessert on paper plates from their respective desks and cubicles.
Dean sat in the bullpen with Jack (who was on a call), Jody, and even Jessie Deluca, the boy heâd once arrested for stealing candy and groceries from a gas station.
Well, Jessie wasnât such a kid anymore. He was now their 18-year-old intern.
âHowâs the boysenberry?â Jody asked Dean. Her lips curved upward when he turned to her with a crumb-covered smile.Â
âReal good,â he said.
She couldnât help but laugh a little. âI canât with this. Come âere.â
She grabbed a napkin and leaned over to wipe at his mouth the way a mother would her errant child. Dean just rolled his eyes.
âReally?â he snipped.
âYou look like my five-year-old son after a round of SpaghettiOs,â she said.
âMakes you wonder how his wife deals with him,â Jessie muttered under his breath while he entered expense reports into his computer. Never mind that he had a purple berry stain around the corner of his mouth.
Dean shot him a wry look, along with his crumpled napkin.
âI donât wanna hear that from a punk like you,â he teased. âYou havenât had a girlfriend sinceâŚwhat, junior prom?â
Jessie fended off the stained napkin with a grimace. But he also smarted at the dig. His arms crossed defensively as he leaned back in his chair.
âAs a matter a fact, Iâve got a date on Friday,â he sniffed. âAnd no, Iâm not telling you her name.â
Dean and Jody shared an amused look.
âAww, look at him, pretending heâs got a date,â Dean said. He fought a deeper grin when Jessie threw the disgusting napkin back at him.
âFine! Her nameâs Annie. You happy now?â Jessie said.
Dean shared another look with Jody.
âAww, heâs actually got a date,â said Dean. He smirked at the kid next. âLemme know if you need to borrow some cologne. Chicks dig that.â
âUgh,â Jessie groaned. He leaned his elbows on his desk and pushed the palms of his hands into his eyes. He knew heâd be catching flack on this for the rest of the week.
Dean chuckled, but before he had a chance to tease their intern some more, his cell phone rang. It was you, and he felt his good mood continue as he answered.
âHey, baby.â
âHey, howâs the day going?â you asked.
âGood,â he replied. âWeâre on lunch break. Jody got me a pie for my five-year mark at the PD.â
âAw, thatâs so sweetâŚliterally. She knows you too well,â you laughed.
He nodded in agreement. âYeah, she really does.â
âTell her and everyone else I said hi.â
âWill do,â he said with a smile. âYou just callinâ to check up on me?â
âWell, that, andâŚwhen are you getting home tonight?â you asked. The smooth, leading note of your voice had Deanâs lips curving into a smirk.
âAh, wellâŚâ He pushed away from his desk and stepped away from the bullpen for a little privacy in the hall. âThat depends. Whatâs going on?â
âLetâs just sayâŚI have an idea,â you replied. It had Deanâs brows raising. Youâd been having a lot of ideas for the past year, and heâd been more than ready and willing for most of them.
âOh, yeah?â he intoned. While he leaned against the wall in the main hallway of the precinct, his arm crossed under his elbow as he continued holding the phone to his ear. âWhatâd you have in mind?â
âYouâll just have to find out,â you said.
It only took his brain about a moment and a half to compute.
âAll right. In that case, Iâll try to be home promptly at six, barring thereâs no shootouts at the 7-Eleven,â he quipped.
âUgh, please, donât even joke about that,â you said, your tone sobering.
Dean realized, without even having to read his soulmateâs thoughts, that you were reminded of the last time an explosive incident happened at the local gas station, just two weeks before their wedding day. He dimmed as well.Â
âYeah, âm sorry,â he said, swiping a hand over his mouth. âUhâŚokay. Iâll see you tonight, sweetheart.â
âOkay, be careful,â you said. You always said itâin the morning, whenever he left for work, whenever you two managed to talk during the day. It was routine, but it also wasnât.Â
And you still wished him a good rest of his day before you hung up. Dean pocketed his phone and returned to the bullpen, where Jody was putting away the rest of the pie. He eyed her just to know exactly where she was setting it down in the kitchen, for future reference.
Jessie peered up from his computer and asked if that was you on the phone.
âYeah, she says hi,â Dean replied.
Jessie smirked. ââCourse she does. Iâm her favorite.â
Dean shot him a look, knowing the kid liked you probably even more than he liked Dean. Youâd become like a big sister to JessieâŚbut it didnât stop Dean from occasionally being annoyed.Â
âShut up and eat your pie.â
Dean arrived that night, more or less on time, to find that youâd cooked up a feast. It was laid out across the dining table: steak, scalloped potatoes, carrots and broccoli, and even freshly baked cornbread with butter.Â
âIs it my birthday again?â he asked, despite it already being February.Â
He ventured into the kitchen where you were getting two bottles of beer. You looked up at him with a smile when he came over and held you from behind. You enjoyed the warmth of his body pressed against your back, while his hands found your hips.
âI cook all the time, Dean,â you pointed out. He pressed a kiss to the side of your head in greeting.
âHmm. Yeah, but now my spidey senses are tingling,â he said.
You set down the beer before turning in his embrace and twining your arms around his neck. Already he could feel your anticipation through the soul bond, but that was all you were letting him sense. You were keeping your walls up a bit, to stop him from hearing your thoughts. In this case, it felt like a tease.
You tilted your head, a smile playing across your lips. âOh, yeah?â
Dean smirked down at you. âOh, yeah.â
You laughed and let him greet you properly with a kiss. You returned it, affectionately caressing his cheek, but you stopped him before he could start pressing you harder into the counter. You held up a placating hand against his chest.
âWait, wait, the foodâs gonna get cold,â you said. And all too quickly, youâd extricated yourself from his arms and went to finish placing the silverware on the table. Dean begrudgingly followed suit by helping you with the glasses and plates.
Dinner was delicious. He couldnât remember the last time heâd had a steak that good; you two had been scrounging and saving to get out of this apartment and buy a house, along with other things you and Dean had been planning for your future.
By the time the leftovers were put away and the dishes were put in the dishwasher, he started to sense that you were ready to come around with the real reason youâd called him at work today, let alone made such a nice and expensive meal. You went over to where he stood at the kitchen sink and rubbed his arm.
âHey,â you greeted.
Dean tried to stifle his knowing smile. âYeah?â
But when he looked over at you, he realized you seemed nervous, not flirtatious. You were serious, and now, he was concerned.
âWhat?â he asked.
You sighed, hesitating for a moment. Then you went over to a nearby drawer and got some rubber gloves you always kept at work and at homeâthe kind doctors wore.
You went for your large work bag that normally stored your laptop and files, and instead, you pulled out an old book. Deanâs brows raised of their own accord, considering the last time you accidentally trifled with a book like that.
âWhat the hell is that?â he asked, with some trepidation. You laid the book out on the kitchen counter.
âItâs a journal of some kind, written in Latin, dating back from the late 1500s. Can you believe that?â Your head raised from where you were examining the cover and spine, but Dean was incredulous.
âWhatâre you doing with that?â he asked. Your lips pursed, and he felt a tendril of your guilt.
Most likely, youâd taken it from the museum where you worked without permission. You were in charge of the growing library of ancient texts that were stored there, and most of them were too old and valuable for exhibition, even behind glass. He doubted you were even allowed to open this book, let alone âborrowâ it from the museum.
You sighed and held up a placating hand. âOkay, Dean, just hear me out.â
You opened the book to a page youâd placed a strip of paper in for bookmarking purposes. You pointed at a page filled with scrawled words that Dean didnât really understand. Sam was always better at reading Latin.
âThat is a fertility spell,â you said.
The weight of that fell between you for a moment, rendering Dean speechless. It took a few seconds for his brain to register what you were saying, followed quickly by a sad, contemplative frown as he stared back at you. You were serious about this, even hopeful.Â
âSweetheart, we donât need that,â he said, shaking his head. Your expression firmed, though it became touched with melancholy.
âItâs been a year, Dean,â you said. âWeâve been trying for a year, and Iâm still not pregnant.â
He blew out a breath. âThe doctor saidââ
âWeâve done everything the doctor said,â you snapped. âFertility treatments are either going to take too long or are too expensive, and they still carry risks.â
âAnd this isnât a risk?â Dean shot back, gesturing at the book. âYou donât know if this will work, or what the hell itâll really do to you.â
Your brows furrowed, but you didnât back down. You held your hands to your hips.
âUncle Bobby said itâs legit,â you said. Dean blinked in surprise. He shifted back on his heels and crossed his arms.
âYou ran this by Bobby before me?â he said. You could feel the small lance of his upset, as well as see it across his face.
You bit the inside of your lip. âI just wanted to make sure!â
Dean took in a deep breath. He mentally counted to five.
âWhat exactly did he say?â he asked.
You paused at that. ââŚWell, he said it was a real spell.â
His brows rose. âAnd?â
âAndâŚthat magic is unpredictable and we should talk about it first. But thatâs why weâre talking now!â you reasoned.Â
Your husbandâs gaze lifted heavenward as he threw up his hands in aggravation.
âDeanââ you tried, but it didnât stop him from snatching up the book. Despite your protests, he took it with him into the master bedroom you shared and shoved the book into his nightstand. You had followed him this far, but you stopped short when he turned around to face you.
âI will check this out,â he said, and his tone boded no argument. âBut for the record, Iâm against this. Magic is unpredictable at best, and not for nothing, it always comes at a price. Iâll be damned if youâre gonna pay it again.â
You paused. Hearing the vehemence in his tone, feeling the force of emotion behind his words, and your own circling memories of being possessed by a magic-wielding goddessâŚit had you nodding in agreement, even as tears welled up in your eyes.
Dean faltered a little inside. Always the damn tears. He gathered you into his arms and held you close in comfort. He pressed a kiss to your forehead.
âWeâll figure this out. I promise,â he said.
You tried to believe him.
Late that night, however, you couldnât help yourself.
Once you were sure Dean was asleep beside you, hearing his deep, even breaths, you made your move. Dressed in just an old college shirt and some pajama shorts, you slid out of bed and tiptoed over to his nightstand to get the book.
You took it into the kitchen and started assembling the ingredients Bobby had reluctantly helped you translate. (He didnât know that you had taken a couple of items from his house for the spell.)Â
You prepared them in a bowl. The resulting liquid looked brown and disgusting. You mixed it around, grimacing at the smell, and carefully poured it into a glass. The last thing the spell required was a few drops of your blood, and then you were supposed to drink it.Â
God, this is terrible, you thought. Part of you couldnât believe you were going through with this, butâŚyou grabbed a kitchen knife in order to make a shallow cut on your palm.Â
The steel was poised against your hand. You took a fortifying breath, but before you could cut into your skin, Dean grabbed your wrist with a strong grip, startling a gasp out of you.
âWhat the hell are you doing?!â he said, or more like shouted. He was irate, his voice bounding off the walls of the apartment.
You knew he had every right to be, and you didnât have a good answer for him. Shock had stifled you into silence.
Dean let go of you and took the glass next. He peered in disgust at the concoction inside, but he quickly dumped it into the sink and ignored your protests. He threatened to burn the damn book next.
âDean, stop! Please,â you said tearfully as you stilled his hands on the book. âIf thereâs some kind of price to the spell, Iâll pay it!â
âWhatâre you talking about! Are you crazy?â he asked, through furrowed brows. You squeezed his hands.
âBelieve me, I love what we have. I love our life, my job, all of it,â you said. âBut I want a family, and I want it with you.â
Dean started to soften at that, when you met his eyes. You paused, taking in a shaky breath.
âIt should be simple, but itâs not," you said. "I just canât understand why itâs so impossible. WhyâŚwhy thereâs something wrong with me.â
Deanâs anger broke down, bit by bit the more you spoke. He let go of the book and reached for you. He held you against his chest, rubbing your back as you quietly wept. You tried to stifle it, but that just made your body tremble even more. He did his best to steady you, rocking you back and forth. His eyes closed for a moment.
You both knew that the expensive fertility doctor hadnât found anything wrong with either of you, even after a month of testing.
âIn certain cases, it just takes longer for some couples,â sheâd said. But clearly, you had just been blaming yourself. Dean couldnât abide that.
âThereâs nothing wrong with you,â he said firmly. âBelieve me, I want that too. But I also want to make sure youâre safe.â
Emotion clogged in his throat when he thought about what mightâve happened if he hadnât stopped you. And in turn, you sobered even more when you managed to pick up on his thoughts.
âIf something wouldâve happened, and I was too late to stop it,â he said, clearing his throat. ââŚI just canât, okay?â
After a moment, you nodded. You allowed yourself to rest against his chest and try to calm the racing of your heart. All the while, you tried your best not to resent him for stopping you.
The next day was a Saturday. You slept in because your body needed it, after the stress of last night. When you woke up, Dean wasnât beside you. His keys and the Impala were gone, but heâd left you a text: heâd gone to your uncle Bobbyâs place.Â
And you saw that heâd taken the book as well. Predictable.Â
You felt bad for how you tried to go behind your husbandâs back, but if you were honest with yourself, you were still upset at him for stopping you, even if you understood why he did it.Â
You sat on the edge of your bed. Not for the first time since you and Dean were separated by miles of roads and his familyâs mission to find the thing that killed his mother, you found yourself praying.Â
Please, GodâŚor if thereâs even anyone up thereâŚplease help me.
For a while, there was silence in the room.Â
But even if your eyes were open, you wouldnât have seen the being that was standing in front of you. He stared down at you with a tilted head, finding himself a bit too curious. Hesitantly, he reached his hand out and touched your forehead.Â
You didnât completely register the feeling that washed over you. It was like the tingling of a breeze across your skin. You took it for a chill in the room as you shivered a little. Then you opened your eyes, and resigned yourself to starting your day.Â
Castiel left the room with but a thought and a flutter of wings.Â
He knew he was only supposed to observe Michaelâs vessel, not his soulmate. And yet, with one touch, he had sensed the rare genetic defect your doctor had missed.
Your mother had unknowingly suffered the condition as well. Your father never told you this, but sheâd nearly lost you in the early stages of her pregnancy. It had been a miracle that you were born at all.Â
Castiel fixed the problem.Â
He knew what Uriel, or even Naomi would say. Perhaps they didnât need to know, in this case. They were both far too busy for worldly trifles. Even so, Castiel knew he wasnât authorized to heal you.
Still, it feltâŚright. And so, he did it.Â
It confused him.
âŚMaybe it isnât something to be closely examined, he thought.
With that agreement within himself, he resolved to leave that decision behind him, and continue watching from afar. Those were his orders, after all.
Visiting Bobby Singer wasnât as productive as Dean wanted it to be. The men had been arguing in Bobbyâs living room for close to an hour.
Dean was upset with him for translating that goddamn spell for you, but the old man didnât have a good answer. They both knew you were like a daughter to him.
âShe came in hot, all damn stubborn and sass up to here,â Bobby said, holding a hand up to his forehead. âBut you try sayinâ no when the waterworks starts.â
âŚDean could concede that, but he rubbed his face in frustration.Â
âWhat do I do here, Bobby?â he asked, holding up the spell book in question. Apparently, it was more like a journal; it was rumored to have belonged to a sixteenth-century witch named Rowena. âI donât trust this thing. Deep in my gut, I know it.â
Bobby considered him for a moment. In fact, he gave Dean a long-suffering look that made him really see Bobbyâs age.Â
âThen trust your gut, son,â was all he said.Â
Dean returned home with a peace offering: some apple crumble pie. You were lying on the sofa watching mindless TV, still in your pajamas. Your mental walls were down, so Dean could both see and feel how miserable you were.Â
He took out the pie from the small bag of groceries he carried and held it up so you could see.
âI come bearing sugar,â he said. He also set down a bottle of wine on the dining table. You were focused on the pie, however.
âWhoâs that for, me or you?â you dryly remarked.Â
âI got ice cream too,â he said, shaking the grocery bag.Â
You smiled a little, but he could feel through the bond that you were still sour at him. He sighed and went over to you. He set down the bribery on the coffee table and settled a hand on your pajama-clad thigh.Â
âSweetheart, I am sorry.âÂ
Sighing, you turned off the TV and sat up against the other end of the couch. You eyed him with a frown.
âYouâre not sorry about chucking the spell,â you accused. Or for stealing the book youâd eventually have to bring back to work, lest your boss notice something amiss in the inventory.
âNo, Iâm not,â said Dean. âIt was dangerous. I felt it. And that gut feeling? Thatâs whatâs saved me more times than I can damn count.âÂ
You were still upset, you couldnât denyâŚbut you understood his point. When he beckoned you over, you were more willing to go to him. After you scooted closer, he wrapped an arm around your waist and pressed a kiss to the top of your head.
âLook, Iâll go to whatever doctors you want, try whatever treatments, however long it takes,â he said.
You sighed, but you eventually agreed with a teary nod. âOkay. Thank you.â
Even with that, Dean wasnât convinced that he was getting through to you. He was picking up on a thread of hopelessness that you were trying to hide.
Heâd just have to change that.
âButâŚâ He earned your attention by squeezing your side. His lips formed a grin. âI still think we can do this the old-fashioned way.â
He slowly rubbed a hand up and down your back. With the other hand, he reached for your face, tracing your lower lip with his thumb. You smiled slightly at his teasing. Part of you wanted to heed the suggestion in his eyes, and the familiar warmth and promise in his touch. The other, more vulnerable part of you hesitated.
When you caught sight of something over his shoulder, you had to smile a little more.
âI see you got a bottle of Merlot,â you said. A notable upgrade from beer. You couldnât remember the last time Dean had willingly bought some âbougie-assâ wine.
âA little pie, a little boozeâŚâ you noted.
Dean grinned. âIâm thinking we have a not-so-quiet night in.â
Your brows rose, and you hummed in surprise. âIs my husband trying to butter me up?â
âNah,â he said, tilting your face back up to his. âYour husbandâs trying to seduce you.â Â
You giggled at thatâŚat first. But it seemed he was serious.
You accepted his passionate kiss. Closing your eyes, you reached blindly for his shirt and held on while his lips moved ardently against yours. Through the bond, you felt his desire like it was your own.
In the five years youâd been married, and the years you were together even before, there were often moments where it was impossible to discern what was him and what was you.Â
The beautiful thing about it was, that part didnât matter too much. Especially not when you and Dean became a tangle of limbs, lips, and tongue on the couch. He ridded you of your threadbare pajamas, and you helped him halfway out of his shirt and jeans before he yanked the rest of it off himself.
And all while he drew lusty moans and sighs and pleasure from your body in the comfort of your living room, the ice cream slowly melted in its container on the coffee tableâcompletely forgotten, along with the pie.
That night, you lied awake in his arms for a while. Round one on the couch had migrated to rounds two and three in the bedroom, and you were almost too exhausted to sleep.Â
It had been months since you and Dean had sex without thinking of calendars and timing, optimal positions and ovulation.
This felt right, you thought, as you stroked his arm that was wrapped around your waist. Even though your skin was sticking to his under the sheets and your frizzy hair was probably tickling his neck, he didnât seem to mind.
Dean? you tried through the bond, seeing if he was awake. He felt like he was still in-between wakefulness and sleep. At your prodding though, he slipped back into the former.Â
âHmm?â he replied. You let out a sigh in the dark.Â
âIâm sorry I kind of tried to take matters into my own hands, with the spell.â
He hmphed in response. âKinda?â
Your lips twitched upwards.Â
âThis is a âtogetherâ thing,â you said. âI made it all about me.â
Dean shook his head at that. He responded through the bond. No, you didnât.
I did, you insisted. You were right to stop me. I didnât care about the consequencesâŚbut thatâs not fair to you. To either of us.
He took that in with a deep sigh of his own.
âItâs okay. We want the same thing,â he said. âAnd weâll get there, baby. Donât you worry.â
âWhat makes you so sure?â you asked.
ââŚI donât know. I just am.â
You closed your eyes, and once again, you tried to believe him. You let his heartbeat and the sound of his steady breathing lull you to sleep.Â
Nine weeks laterâŚ
You were alone in the bathroom at seven in the morning. After almost a month late on your period, you were also staring at two positive lines on your last pregnancy test.Â
HoâŚlyâŚshit.
Dean was already at work. This wasnât something you wanted to tell him over the phone, however.Â
How the hell am I supposed to keep this from him all day? you thought.
But then again, maybe this was a good thing. You had time to make sure.
So you called out of work for a personal day, and you immediately called your doctor on your way out to the closest pharmacy. You were going to need a few more tests.Â
When Dean eventually got home that evening, there were two pizzas waiting for him. The smell was already making his mouth water. He peeked under the hood of each box and rubbed his hands together.Â
âOoh, awesome.â Pepperoni, sausage, and double cheese. His favorite.
You appeared then from the kitchen with a strange smile on your face.Â
âHey!â you chirped, but you seemed a bit distracted as you pulled out a sheet pan of cookies from the oven. You nearly dropped them when the corner of the pan banged against the oven.Â
Something was off with you. Dean knew it intuitively. He went over and tried to steady you with a hand on the small of your back. He could see that you were frazzled, but he realized, with a frown, that you had your walls up again. He couldnât pick up on what you were thinking.
âYou okay?â he asked. âWhatâs going on?â
âUhâŚwell, something,â you nodded and wiped your hands after you peeled the oven mitts off. âAnd I need to tell you about it before I bake everything in the house, including the expired bran muffins.â
Dean was growing more concerned by the moment. He knew for a fact heâd hidden that bran muffin mix deep in the pantry, so you wouldnât force him to eat a âhealthy dessert.â
âOkay, what?â he asked.
You paused, steeling yourself with a breath.
You then took his hand and led him to the bedroom, into the adjoining bathroom. Across the entire counter were no less than seven pregnancy tests.Â
All positive.
Deanâs breath caught in his lungs. Slowly he turned back to you with his widened eyes.
âSurprise?â you smiled, a little nervously.Â
Dean grasped the counter and had to sit down hard on the closed toilet seat.Â
âYeah, I did that too,â you said. You couldnât help but giggle as you caressed his face. He grabbed your hip, both to bring you closer and for added stability. You two had been trying to make this happen for over a year, but the gravity of this being real was finally hitting him.Â
He stared up at your face with a growing smile. âThis is happening.âÂ
You nodded, smiling through your burgeoning tears.Â
âYeah. It is,â you replied. âDean, youâre gonna be a dad.â
That realization had him nodding, swallowing hard and blinking past a sting in his eyes.Â
He wrapped his arms around your waist, bringing you in between his knees. You threaded your fingers through his hair, and his head came to rest against your stomach. He pressed a kiss there, over your shirt.Â
After a moment to gather himself, he rocked back onto his feet. Then he enveloped you in a secure and warm embrace. He kissed the side of your head, and you felt his smile there.
âWe did it, baby,â he said. Â
âAnd that was the easy part,â you quipped, making him laugh. Yet the holy shit of it all hit him in a new waveâone you felt through the bond. You had to take a deep breath to steady yourself as well.
âOh my God, this is happening,â he repeated.
You uttered a tearful laugh. âUh, yeah, Dean.â
He was still smiling, but it started to dim a little.Â
âWeâre ready, right?â he asked.
You chuckled, wiping at your eyes. âWe better be.â
Dean nodded and pulled back enough to see your face. You met his gaze. Maybe youâd just had more time than him to process it all, but you finally felt a sense of peace.
âTogether, right?â he said.
âYeah,â you smiled. âTogether.â
Dean let out a deep breath. âShit, I gotta tell Sam.â
Your smile brightened and you squeezed his arms.
âLetâs call him!" you said. "Hopefully Eileenâs there too.â
The two had moved in together a couple of years ago, after Eileen officially retired from hunting. But she often had long shifts at her job, just like Sam did at the law firm he started working for after he graduated from law school, near the top of his class. Â
While you and Dean went into the bedroom to call Sam together, an angel watched from a distance, unseen by human eyes.
He found himself smiling.
AN: Ahh I'm soft. 𼰠I hope you all enjoy this as much as I had fun diving back into Never Say Goodbye.
And I won't say that I'll never come back to it in the future...for obvious reasons. đ
Series Masterlist
Dean Winchester Series List
Dean Winchester Masterlist
Series + Dean Tag List (Part 1):
I did my best to get everyone who was tagged in the original run of the series first, then my normal Dean tag list.
@curlycarley @chubby-teddybear @jamerlynn @iprobablyshipit91 @globetrotter28 @deamus-liv @deans-spinster-witch @my-proof-is-you @vera0124 @deans-baby-momma @lacilou @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @theonlymaninthesky @spnexploration @itzabbyxx @cevans-winchester @imagineteller1
@icequeen1371 @tiredqueen73 @bitchwitch1981 @abbigaleelizabeth @ohgodthebogisback @where-the-river-bends @loveprof6 @shadowcrowsworld @thespnlover @this-is-me19 @stevenknightmarc @leigh70 @syrma-sensei @brain-has-left
@hobby27 @ashbatz @saranghaey @jori21 @lillyrob @adoringanakin @agirlwithdemonblood @mimaria420 @nephil-with-a-gun @writethrough @iamsapphine @definitelymentallyderanged @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer
#the old-fashioned way#bonus tracks#never say goodbye#bonus track 4#spn#supernatural#dean x reader#dean x you#dean winchester#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester x you#dean winchester x female reader#dean winchester x soulmate!reader#soulmate au#soulmates#castiel#jody mills#bobby singer#zepskies writes
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Immune To Your Charms
DESCRIPTION: Soulmates are incapable of harming the other in any way. Normally that would be a good thing but not when you're meant to be enemies.
WARNINGS: It's Doflamingo so it features mentions of killing/ injury/ general violence. Soulmate! AU, Enemies to Lovers
CHARACTERS: Doflamingo
WORDS: 2,543
A/N: Part of the Good For Your Soul Series. I had such a burst of energy last night and today I'm worried I'm starting to get sick which made getting this finished a bit of a struggle. Hopefully you all still like how this is going
*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*
DIRECTORY | PROMPT LIST
Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four (here) | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven | Chapter Eight | Chapter Nine | Chapter Ten | Chapter Eleven(coming soon)
ââââââ
Your mind was a mess and you had expected to find no rest at all but the second youâd sank into the mattress and head hit the pillow you were instantly asleep, your body unable to resist the luxury and comfort that had enveloped you. Yes you were a prisoner here in every sense of the word without it being spoken but in a bed like this, things could be worse and you knew that. If anything you had accepted the prospect of some dark, dingy cell barely big enough for you to fit in and a few thin, dirty pieces of fabric for a sorry excuse of a bed and blanket. This enormous living quarters had not been expected and even as you slowly woke from the deepest and best sleep of your life it still took you a few moments to adjust to the sight of it all and remind yourself that you hadnât been dreaming.Â
Rubbing the sleep from your eyes you let out a sigh, contemplating just staying in bed. You knew Doflamingo had said you could go and do as you pleased but did you really want to? You knew Doflamingo was a pirate, up to unknown evil of a wide range of criminality. Could you really witness it without being able to stop it? You were brought out of your thoughts when a knock sounded at your door. Slowly you looked over, expecting it to open but there was only tense silence. Whoever it was they were waiting for you to answer. âCome in.â
Timidly the door opened and a young maid entered. She was nervous, keeping her head down and hands clasped in front of her. Lowly she bowed to you and even when she rose, she kept her gaze away from your face. Not because of an order, it just seemed she was genuinely intimidated. Worried. âSorry for disturbing your rest. Would you care for breakfast here or will you be joining the family this morning?â
You pulled a face at the prospect of dining with Doflamingo and his âfamilyâ which you assumed meant the higher ranked members of his crew. Absently you recalled the woman Violet who revealed the truth of your and Doflamingoâs situation but honestly you hadnât really paid much attention to anyone else that had been in the drawing room. The only others you had a strange recollection about were the two figures that had been at the warehouse along with Doflamingo but it was too dark and you were in too much pain to really get a proper look at them before youâd fallen unconscious. Quickly you snapped yourself out of your thoughts and offered the maid an apologetic look. âSorry. No I wonât be joining them.â You told her.Â
It made you uncomfortable when she bowed again but she was gone from the room before you could tell her to stop that. You doubted she would listen anyway, if she didnât act as she normally did she could be punished by someone. You didnât put it passed any of the pirates in the building to lash out at the staff over the smallest of reasons. With a heavy sigh you dragged yourself out of the bed and made your way to the small table by one of the tall windows and settled down into the chair. Finally you allowed yourself to pull back the curtain and take in the view outside, breath catching at the expansive beauty of the city and spanning island beyond it. Dressrosa was indeed a stunning place, from up here in the Palace you couldnât see much activity from the city but just like the upkeep of the castle you now found yourself in, it seemed orderly and clean. You couldnât hear any violence or seen signs of unrest of some countries youâd seen over the years. It made your stomach twist to feel a sense of peace and calm. Could the people truly be happy with a pirate ruling over them? You supposed if the people knew it was a Warlord, protected and feared then there would never be a risk of an outside attack. You just wondered what it was Doflamingo demanded of the people to keep them safe from him and those in his command.
At the sound of the door opening you glanced in the reflection of the window to see the servant return, pushing a small trolley inside. Following behind was Doflamingo. Eyes narrowing you turned your head to scowl at him. Youâd thought your decision to eat in your room also meant you wouldnât have to see him either until you wanted to. Realistically you should have known better. Of course heâd appear when he wished and of course heâd choose first thing to start your day off on a sour note. Coldly you followed his movements as he tugged out the chair opposite you and relaxed into it, making a note to let your Marine file fall onto the polished table surface. Your eyebrows rose minutely. You werenât surprised to see it, more that Doflamingo seemed to want you to know he had it. You offered a polite smile to the servant as she shakily offered you your cup of tea.Â
âSo how did my dear soulmate sleep?â Doflamingo chuckled when your smile dropped and you turned a glare his way. His laughter continued when you grabbed the morning paper from the trolley and opened it with a snap, refusing to even entertain the notion of small talk with him. With a flick of his finger, your file opened and he reclined in his seat, one arm lazily hanging over the back of seat while he sipped at his coffee. âWell you look refreshed, still youâd look better if you didnât have those drab clothes you still have on.â
âFashion advice from you? Thatâs rich.â you muttered under your breath. It was more to yourself and a reflex but the smug chuckle made you roll your eyes. In the odd sense of wins and loses you had with this man, it was a point to Doflamingo. âYour doctor informed me that my Marine uniform was destroyed after they tended to my injuries and this is what I was given when I woke up.â
âWell what are you waiting for?â You frowned at Doflamingoâs words and used your finger to lower one corner of the newspaper to see the servant bow lower than she had with just you and flee the room.
âWhat was that about?â
âTheyâre getting you new clothes. Obviously.â You opened your mouth to argue then rolled your eyes, knowing it was pointless. You couldnât live in one outfit for your time here and you had no money to buy new clothes yourself. Sitting back in your seat, you lifted the paper again to continue reading. News of the warehouse explosion was there, tucked into the corner of a page and summarised in a small handful of paragraphs. Loss of life of Marines and some pirates had been revealed but no names. Slowly you turned the page. You stilled when Doflamingo spoke up.âYour file is interestingâŚâÂ
âYou must be reading someone elseâs.â You noted dryly, remaining casual. âNothing spectacular in those pages.â
âAnd thatâs exactly how you planned it to be.â You could hear the grin in Doflamingoâs voice. Yet again you lowered the paper to stare at him. You offered no verbal response to his accusation but your expression was trained into one of patient, confusion; waiting for him to elaborate in his theory. âNo one rises in the ranks as smoothly and fast as your timeline just to taper off in the middle like this and remain there. Very sneaky, lying to your superiors. Did it annoy you to serve someone who by all rights should have been your subordinate?â
âOnly in the cases were they were incompetent but I knew that would be a possibility. As long as the missions were successful I didnât care.â
âYet they took the glory. Must have stung.â
âIf my vanity needed fed for something as trivial as glory or praise I would have continued to rise the ranks in the Marines, or become a pirate.â You explained with a smirk, seeing his momentarily glower at you. âAny other questions?â
âââ
âThe weapons and ammunition are being unloaded at the docks and all the materials were delivered to Punk Hazard without issue, Doffy.â You heard a new voice coming from one of the rooms up ahead. After youâd showered and changed into one of the many outfits brought to your your on Doflamingoâs order you'd decided to explore more of the castle. If not to have something to do but to also get a better lay of the land. You stepped closer, making no effort to silence your steps. As Doflamingo had said, you werenât deemed a threat to anything he was doing and the mention of Punk Hazard had caught your attention. You stepped up to the doorway and leant against the doorframe, eyeing the two men standing in front of Doflamingo.Â
Doflamingo grinned at your appearance, finding your choice in clothing so much more flattering to your figure instead of your ugly Marine uniform or the rags youâd been wearing that morning. Diamante and SeĂąor Pink had promptly shut their mouths when you arrived. They had been brought up to speed about who you were and why you were still alive. You looked at the two innocently even giving them a taunting little wave. Diamante glanced at Doflamingo questioning silently if he should continue even with the interruption. When his young master nodded, he spoke. âThe latest batch of SAD is at the factory now to continue production smoothly.â
You pushed away from the doorframe as they continued talking and ventured further into the room, making note of the large bookcases lining the wall and all of them filled with old and expensive texts in a whole range of subjects. Finally your eyes roamed appreciatively over the stocked drinks cabinet and you pulled open the door to lift out one of the bottles of whiskey. You moved out of the way when one of the glasses flew out from the shelf and you followed its movement until it landed in Doflamingoâs waiting hand. His free hand gestured silently for you to bring the bottle over. Humming to yourself you poured plentiful glass of your own and walked over to Doflamingoâs desk.Â
Your lips twitched in amusement to see Doflamingo still lazily hold his glass, waiting for you to pour the drink for him. You sipped your own drink, relishing the taste that only got better when you set the bottle down beside his arm. He could pour it himself, you werenât his servant. As you glanced at a map set to the side of the desk you heard Diamanteâs annoyance drip through his words. âThe sooner you work out a way to undo this the sooner you can repay them for their disrespect towards you Doffy.â
âSuch a fragile pride your Doffy has if not pouring a drink for him is too much to handle.â You noted sarcastically, pulling the map fully out from underneath the sheets of paper holding it down.âBut I hope he finds a way to fix it soon too. Maybe your crazed scientist will work a way.â
âWho says there's a crazed scientist?â Doflamingo asked, grinning as he poured himself a drink for himself. He watched as you looked up from studying the map that had caught your attention to throw him an incredulous look.Â
âA guy like you definitely has a mad scientist employed somewhere.â You smirked, looking back to the map. âIf you didnât I think Iâd actually respect you less if that were even possible.â
âDoffy you don't need to let them speak to you this way.â Diamante insisted, looking to his leader. Heâd literally burned a town to the ground for Doflamingo because he tripped on the street in his youth. Heâd killed countless people for looking at the Warlord in a way he wasn't satisfied with. To witness you be so blatantly contemptuous without punishment felt so wrong to him. âI wonât kill them but please let me teach them to hold their tongue.â
âNo one harms them, Diamante.â Doflamingo stated firmly and it was enough for Diamante to shut his mouth and nod. âNo-one is taking the privilege from me. No matter how much goading they do, donât hurt them. Make sure everyone knows. You two can go now.â
âSpoilsport.â You grumbled watching the men leave without protest. Here you thought youâd be able to get to the inner circle to be killed but Doflamingo seemed to know your game already. Clicking your tongue in annoyance you swirled your drink before a thought came to you. âWhat about poison?â
âWhat about it?â
âIf I poured poison into a bottle and you served it between two glasses and we both drank, who would die?â You asked curiously, trying to wrap your head around the logistics of this whole soulmate nonsense. âIf we both had a hand in it would we both be spared or both killed?âÂ
Doflamingo stared at you with a broadening smile, deep laughter building in his chest. Heâd really underestimated your mind it seemed. So far youâd seemed so calm and collected, accepting your place here until he found a way to kill you. Apart from the disrespect you threw his way and constant defiance to recognise his authority and superiority, heâd yet to see you snap. To see you break in true anger, fear, or sadness was something he wanted to witness and at this point he didnât care which of the emotions it was.Â
âSadly I think it would cancel out. I had a similar thought and poisoned your tea this morning and you didnât react even though the maid poured it.â He explained and as disappointed as he felt that it didnât work, seeing your own grumpy disappointment shape your face brought him some enjoyment. As he took another slow sip of his drink he spotted how your attention was taken once again by the map in your hand. âWhatâs got you so invested in that island?â
âI was stationed there for a couple months on a mission at the beginning of the year.â You explained with a shrug setting it aside. Even thinking about your missions felt like a different life. It hurt to know youâd never be a Marine again and help people. âYou eyeing it up for an expansion of your mighty empire?â
âNot exactly.â He chuckled. There wasnât anything you could say or do to stop him or his work so he could say what he liked. âIâm supplying weapons and foot soldiers to a local pirate group for them to take over. In return I get a profit of their enterprise and a share of the islandâs natural resources.â At his explanation Doflamingo watched you process his words as you continued to drink, he noted something indecipherable briefly flicker in your eyes but beyond that you kept perfect control of your expression. Now he was even more determined to see what made you tick.
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TAG LIST (If I've missed anyone or if you want to be added just let me know) @3v37773, @tsaaps , @i-am-all-love-puns-and-lazy , @sanemisnonexistenteyebrow , @fiery-captain-spider-santa @kabloswrld , @atanukileaf , @ane5e , @stuckinthewrongworld , @deathsmajestysworld , @cloudysunset04 , @extremely-ashtridic , @decayingpizza , @liesatemyocean , @ace-for-ace , @nerium-lil
#one piece#one piece imagines#one piece fic#one piece scenario#one piece fanfiction#one piece x reader#one piece x you#doflamingo x reader#doflamingo x you#soulmates! one piece#soulmates!au#one piece doflamingo#op doflamingo#doflamingo one piece#donquixote doflamingo#doffy#op doffy#doffy one piece#doffy x reader#doffy x you#donquixote doflamingo x you#donquixote doflamingo x reader
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After Dark Master List
all stories are nsfw / 18+
â Full Fics â
Ot8 free use jail cell (incomplete) inspired by the police station skz code.
"What's Your Fanfic Fantasy" (Complete)
Pairing: fem reader + Chan + Jisung // This is an AU story about Chan bringing your fantasies to life... but what happens when boyfriends Chan and Han fall in love with you?
â Han Jisungâ
Sub police officer Han x con artist fem reader
Hannie wants to play with your ass but youâve never done this before.
Back in Ten: soft dom CEO Jisung wants you to wear a strap and fuck his ass, after an important function.
Jisung Kinks // after dark hard thoughts
If Han was as small as a barbie doll
fem!Hannie freaky roller skater girl and fem!hannie double pen at a party
Drabble: Can I watch you, Sungie?: posted on my main blog. You come home from work early to find Jisung on your bed fucking himself with a dildo.
â Bangchanâ
Masterlist Scientist Chan (Chris) x science!subject reader - feat. other members along the way.
â Minhoâ
Male escort Lino x fem birthday girl reader.
Stop Lift Button your work colleague Minho has moved into your apartment. What happens when he jumps in the lift with you.
Star Student Part 1: Pairing: professor/teacher Minho x adult female reader. You put on a show for your hot Professor while heâs trying to teach a class. (This is an adult classroom situation.) (5 min approx read)
Star Student Part 2: Pairing: professor/teacher Minho x adult female reader. Professor Minho makes you stay after class to fix the problem you caused.
Show Mommy: Lee Know dressed as Aunt Lina was doing things to you as you watched him on set. But what happens when you are invited to an after party and accidentally end up in Lee Know's room, and he's still in costume?
Billionaire Lee Minho and his Little Plaything You're at billionaire Lee Minho's extravagant party at some fancy historical manor, where unbeknownst to you he want to make you his "Plaything". Before you know what's happening you find yourself in a room with Minho, Changbin and Hyunjin. Minho has plans for you but he doesn't know you can play games too. Pairing: Lee Know x fem reader, Changbin x fem reader, Hyunjin x fem reader. Word count: 8k approx
Submission: Lee Minho x fem reader. You're billionaire Lee Minho's "plaything", but tonight the tables have turned and he let's you dom him. Approx word count: 3.4k
Ask: Minho face f^cks male!reader đŤ this was so fun to write đĽľ
â Minsung / Minsung x readerâ
Minsung Saves the Day Minsung x fem reader (5 minute read) You've just been fingered to the brink of orgasm by Chan and Hyunjin in the back of a car, whilst Minho and Seungmin sit up front. Now you've arrived at the club and there's only one thing on your mind.
Behind the Curtain: mean!Han x bratty!reader + helpful!Minho. You tease your boyfriend Han before a show and he's not happy. So he punishes you, leaves you in a needy mess, and sends Minho to look for you. What happens when Minho can't resist your needs?
Kidnapper Clowns: clown!jisung x fem reader + Minho (5 minute read). dark smut // reader is "kidnapped" and tied up in the basement of two men in clown masks. Everything is planned/consensual.
Pretty Little Kitties: Jisung x reader x Minho. Jisung buys you and him matching kitten ears and tails. Minho joins in.
The window across the street: Han x fem aunty Lina x fem reader.
Private Show v.1 minsung x fem!reader | version.1 - you're a dancer at an exclusive establishment where you perform for kpop idols in masks. Minho and Jisung are after a specific kind of private show from you.
Private Show v.2 similar to v.1 but Minho and Jisung are in masks and reader doesnât know itâs them (or does she?). This version plays out differently to v.1 and is super unhinged.
Minho edges Han
bratty fem!reader, Minsung must punish you
â 3Rachaâ
Weâll make it fit: 3Racha Chan x Changbin x reader w/han for 2secs. They want to use her like their little toy. Dp.
3 racha c^m dump: Han asks you to meet him in the corridor at the bar. Bartender Chan and Security Guard Changbin join in.
3racha free use hard thoughts 1/âžď¸
3racha free use hard thoughts 2/âžď¸
3racha free use hard thoughts 3/âžď¸
â Other Members / Mixed pairingsâ
Werewolf chan turns inside you
Massage Therapist Changbin
Good cop Han / Bad cop Minho
Dom Seungmin and Jeongin x fem reader
Who in skz likes anal? ask
Taken: Drabble - Ot8 x gn reader. Youâre snatched after work by 8 sexy men and taken to an abandoned warehouse⌠exactly what youâd paid for.
Middle-aged neighbour Chan and his friends x fem!reader
Skz reaction to you wearing a butt plug
All Stops to Cumville Station ot8, but featuring Minho, Seungmin and Chan
If skz worked at an adult shop what would each member recommend?
Let Daddy Take Care of it chan x hyunjin x fem reader (5 min read) Fem!reader is horny on the way to the club. Chan and Hyunjin help her out with their fingers in the backseat of the car.
After Hours: Felix; personal assistant | You; Corporate Boss. You're a corporate boss, he is your personal assistant. You're his boss by day, but after hours his soft dom side gets you weak.
Sweet Sweet Punishment: Bratty Han convinces you to let him go down on you without permission from Chan and Lino. They punish you both in front of everyone when they get home. features ot8.
Little Deaths (posted on my main blog) ot8 x reader. Youâre stranded at a mansion where 8 horny ghosts must pleasure you.
Fuckbois Jilix: thoughts on how they pick you up and take you home.
Fuckbois Jilix version 2
The Sunshine Princesses
Concept: Freeze: gangster boss fem reader x Chan x Hyunjin
Male reader x Han x Jeongin: youâre the meat in this delicious sandwich / dom top Han, Jeongin bottoms for the first time.
Thing dom chan likes to do to you (posted on my main blog)
Who in skz will share you (ask)
â Fem!skz Universeâ
⪠Enter here
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The Best Thing
Summary: Miguel O'Hara, star Quarter back of the Nueva York Spiders, lives lavishly with all he could want. What he didn't want is a little girl popping up at his doorstep claiming to be his daughter. The Game Plan AU. <<Prev Next>> Football Player!Miguel x Ballet Teacher!Reader, Gabriella is Miguel's daughter, No warnings Art: rusticfurnace on twt and ethiobirds on tumblr!
Miguel sits in front of Gabriella, leaning on his knees with his elbows. Gabriella stares back at him with wide eyes. She tries to give him a weak smile but it drops when Miguel takes a deep sigh, his leg shaking. Then in a hysterical chuckle, he shakes his head. âNo, no. No!â Miguelâs gaze hardened at the little girl. âTempest and I never had a kid.â His jaw clenches. Gabriella stands up and walks over to him, her hand rummaging through the big pink tote bag at her side. She pulls out a white envelope. âShe wrote you a note.â She says plainly before walking past him to take a better look around his penthouse. Miguel snatches the envelope with a dry chuckle and tears it open without a care. âA note,â He chuckles again. His deep maroon eyes read the printed letters, his ex-wife's signature at the bottom. âMiggy, I know this is a surprise but Gabriella is your daughter. I need you to watch her for a month as itâs an emergency. Iâll explain when I get backâŚ.Tempest.â Miguel reads aloud, his tone softening and he sighs at the end.
Gabriella stares at all the pictures of Miguel plastered over the shelves and walls. She tries copying some expressions, frowning in some and pouting in others. Her attention is snatched back to Miguel when he calls out to her. He waves the envelope in the air. âYou expect me to believe Tempest wrote this? That this automatically makes you my kid? Anyone couldâve written this!â
Gabreilla sighs again, reaching into her tote bag. âHereâs my birth certificate.â She hands him a sealed yellow packet and walks away again. âAnd your name is on it.â Miguel can only chuckle again. âMy name? On yourâthereâs no way.â He slips the paper out of the packet and sees the fine print. For a moment, he prays Gabriella is dyslexic and confused his name with someone else. Gabriella Monroe. Father: Miguel OâHara His leg shakes anxiously as he takes his cell phone and calls up his most trusted confidant. âGet here. Now.â
â A woman with bobbed brown hair and thick pink sunglasses bursts through his doors. Her white heels clack on the tile floor as he keeps one hand in her fluffy white trench coat and the other holding her phone. Her unamused eyes meet Miguelâs panicked ones as soon as she steps inside. Miguel gulps. âFix this, Lyla.â He steps away to show Gabriella sitting at his kitchen island, delicately brushing her doll's hair. Lyla gasps and nearly drops her phone, covering her mouth in shock which prompts Gabriella to jump as well. Lyla drags Miguel to the side, her manicured nails digging into his bicep. âIt wouldâve been nice to know this early on.â She hisses as low as possible so the child in the room doesnât hear. âI didnât know!â Miguel hisses back and Lyla resists the urge to roll her eyes. âYou didnât know you had an ex-wife?â
Miguel waves his hand, dismissing her sarcasm. âIt was a long time agoâwe were young and stupid. We thought we were in love but it-it didnât last for a year! And we never had a baby.â He emphasizes the last part of his sentence, brows furrowing and voice oozing with conviction. Lyla smiles tightly, not believing him for a moment. With Miguelâs rep, sheâs more surprised there haven't been more baby scares. âOkay, Migs.â She chuckles, taking a deep breath, her hands clasping together. âIs there just any possibilityâeven the tiniest onesâ where she could be yours?â She asks. She sees Miguel about to answer. âReally think about it.â Miguel looks up, digging through his brain in a panic. âI-I donât know! We went through the papers, the divorce was final. She-she came by to pick up some of her things at my place and she-we-weâŚâ Miguel falters, brows relaxing as the memories rush back. His eyes widen slightlyâher lips, her voice, the anger and frustration and love that needed to be released for one last time. Miguel chuckles and pats his stomach, looking towards Gabriella and pointing at her. âAre you hungry? Iâm hungry.â He walks over to the fridge but Lylas accusing tone stops him from opening it. âIâm sorry, when did that âshe-we-weâ happen?â She follows behind him and watches as Miguel bonks his head on the fridge door before grunting and facing Lyla again. âLike nine or ten years ago.â He whispers. Lyla turns to Gabriella with a smile. âHow old are you, sweetheart?â Gabreilla perks up. âNine.â Both Lyla and Miguel deflate. âCongrats, Migs.â Lyla says monotonically.
âOh, Godââ Miguel groans and rubs his face with frustration as he walks away to pace in the living room. Meanwhile, Lyla tries some damage control. She approaches Gabriella on the other side of the island, leaning her elbows on the marble counter and placing her chin in between her laced fingers. âHi, sweetpea, letâs talk. So, the letter says your mom isnât coming back for a month. Did she just decide to leave you here?â She asks, her smile tight. âSheâs helping the starving kidsââ Gabriella starts but Lyla cuts her off. âIâm not trying to hear that.â She says flatly. âDid she just decide to leave you here?â âI begged her.â Gabriella swings her feet as she sits in the high chair. âI said âWell, why donât I stay with my father?â and she said âWell, baby, he doesnât know about you yeââ Lyla interrupts her with a groan, her hands waving in the air with a hint of annoyance. âI get it, I get it, whatever. Then who else can you stay with?â She sighs. Miguel claps his hands from the living room, approaching the two with a smug laugh. âI got it! Haha, Tempest has her mom..uh..KekeâŚAliciaâŚâ Miguel lists off names, trying to remember the name of his ex-mother-in-law. âAmelia!â
Gabriella inches an eyebrow up, a shadow of annoyance. âCecelia.â She corrects. âCecelia!â Miguel laughs, shaking little Gabriellaâs shoulder. âSame thing.â He mutters under his breath with a smile. âWhat about her?â Gabriella looks down, her fingers nervously wringing together. âSheâs, umâŚsheâs dead.â Lyla scoffs, resting her hands on her hips and stretching her lower back. âThatâs convenient.â Both Miguel and Gabriella look up towards her, silently judging. Lyla pouts, flicking her bangs away from her face. âWhat?â She whines before staring back at Gabriella. âDoes your mom have a phone? Email?â Gabriella shakes her head. âThey donât have internet there.â Lyla pokes her cheek with her tongue and crosses her arms. âHow did you get here again?â âWe flew to Nueva York here together and then she put me in a cab.â Gabriella recites her story for the billionth time. âAnd the cab just somehow dropped you off at some manâs house?â âNot some man! My father!â The little girl insists. Lyla points at her as if catching her in a lie. âSo you say!â Gabriella frowns, her bushy eyebrows furrowing and her nose scrunching up. âWant a paternity test?â Miguel chimes in, oblivious. âThatâs a great idea! Letâs do that.â Lyla meets Miguelâs eyes in a panic, shaking her head. She tilts her head to talk a little away from Gabriella. âAs long as they donât have needles, IâmâhehâIâm not good with those.â
Lyla grabs his arm again, dragging him close as she whispers to him. âNot in the middle of negotiating with our Patrickâs Burgers deal. If you take the test thereâs a high chance itâll get out to the press and the public will hate you for ditching your kidâif it turns out to be trueâand all of our money will go down the drain.â Lyla sighs, bringing her hands up to rub her temples. âLyla. Lyla-â Miguel turns to take Gabriellaâs seat, spinning her to face Lyla and they both look at the incredibly stressed woman. âWe donât even look alike.â Miguel smiles his pearly whites, Gabriella looking at him for a glance before looking at Lyla again. She matches Miguelâs smile lines, the plump lips, and shiny gleam in her big brown eyesâa missing tooth in her grin. âOh no,â Lyla draws out with sarcasm. âNot at all.â
The world still spins, with Miguel having practice to go to until it was so rudely interrupted by a 4 foot girl. He walks out of his apartment building, the doorman that had called Miguel about Gabriella in the first place standing outside. Miguel huffs in annoyance, his daughter behind him and now in his care. âThanks for the heads up, Larry.â Larry barks a laugh, whistling for the other doorman to bring in Miguelâs car. âTold ya she was cute.â He cackles. Miguelâs car pulls up, the driver door being lifted up and Miguel gets in. He opens the passenger door for Gabriella, tsking. He ushers her to hurry inside. âCâmon, let's go.â He snaps. Gabriella looks inside the car and shakes her head. âNo backseat.â âSo what?â His face contorts, irritated. âIf we get in an accident, the airbag will hurt me.â She clings to her tote bag strap tightly to her chest. Miguel bangs his head back. âI donât have time for this, please.â Still, Gabriella crosses her arms, stubborn and planting her feet in the ground. Miguel settles for putting his football helmet on top of her head and it flops forward, covering her eyes. On the way to practice, Miguel is asked questions by Gabriella. âIâve got four weeks to make up for eight years, mkay?â She pulls out a binder from her tote bag, flipping open the book to a page of messy handwritten questions. âItâs simple: I ask, you answer.â She lifts the helmet on her head up so she can see what sheâs writing.
âSo for example, if you asked me my favorite thing to do, Iâd answer with ballet. Now, whatâs yours?â âFootball.â He grunts, honking his horn and shouting at the traffic while she writes in her binder. âAnd if you could only save one thing in a fire, what would it be?â âMy Heisman.â Before Gabriella could write it down, Miguel interrupts her. âNo, no, no, wait.â He lifts a finger and smiles. âMy limited edition Miguel OâHara Spider Sneakers.â Gabriella rolls her eyes. For the remainder of the ride, Gabriella continues to ask questions and they feel endless. Miguel gets tired of it, telling her no more but she insists. âJust one more question.â She perks up, shuffling in her seat and lifting the helmet up slightly to look up at him. âWhatâs the best thing that ever happened to you?â Miguel sighs, kissing his teeth and canât shake off the feeling heâs had for a hot minute. âHey, I got a question for you. Why didnât your mom just bring you here herself?â Gabriellaâs smile drops and she looks down in her lap. Her eyes cast towards her tote bag and she smiles again. Her hand digs inside and she pulls out a tupperware box of cookies and presents it to him. âWant a cookie?â She squeaks. Miguel tightens his grip on the steering wheel. âNo, I donât want a cookie and stop avoiding the question.â âBut you said you were hungry.â She frowns and lifts the box higher after popping the top open. âAnd I made them special for you.â âUgh, fine, fine. Gimme that..â Miguel shoves his hand to grab a cookie, taking a giant bite out of it. âYour mom.â He reminds her, mouth full of cookie. âI told you it was last minute..â She fiddles with a crumb.
âI just canât believe Tempest would do something like that. Letting her daughter just appear all aloneâit doesnât sound like her.â He mutters out loud to himself. He coughs after taking another bite of Gabriellaâs cookie, scratching his tongue with teeth. Does it feel a little swollen? Still, he speaks his mind. âI know what happened.â Gabriella winces, peeking meekly through the front guard of the helmet. âYou do?â Miguel coughs. âShe screwed up her hair again, didnât she? Hiding away in embarrassment?â âNo.â She grimaces. âAll that bleach and dye finally destroyed her curls, didnât it?â Miguel checks his mouth, feeling strange but he still ends up finishing his cookie. By the time Miguel changed into his uniform, his mouth had gotten worse, his tongue swollen and giving him a lisp. They both enter the field house, Miguelâs tongue still bothering him while Gabriella walks behind him, her head swiveling around to soak in the place. Miguel annoyingly looks behind him, to see her lingering behind. âLetâs go!â He slurs and her little legs hurry to stand beside him. âWhat do you think, you can just roam around safely or something? Stay close, little lady.â He speaks, his lisp becoming more apparent.
âAre you okay?â Gabriella frowns, tilting her head. âDo I sound okay?â Miguel snaps, bending down to her height. âWhatâd you put in those cookies?â He jabs a finger to her tiny bag. âMilk, flour, eggs and cinnamon-â âCinnamon?! CinnaâIâm allergic to cinnamon!â He hisses through his lisp. Gabriellaâs face falls, genuine remorse crossing her face but Miguel is too peeved to notice or even care. âOh, Iâm sorryâŚâ âOh, âIâm sorryâ? All you gotta say is âIâm sorryâ? I sound like this and youâre âsorryâ?â He stands up straighter, glaring down at her and shaking his head before walking away. Gabriella watches his back as he walks away. âIâm allergic to nuts!â She calls out, hoping that information would help him feel betterâor at least be a little useful. It seems to fall flat.
Taglist: <3: @maiyart @aphinthestars @byjessicalotufo @mochi73 @peachey-pie @beezusvreeland @scorpihoooe @having-a-time @slut4oscarissac23 @iamperson12280 @planetxella @fandomtrash5092 @miguelsfavwife @juneonhoth
#miguel x reader#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o'hara x y/n#atsv miguel#miguel o'hara#miguel o'hara x you#miguel spiderman#miguel spiderverse#miguel ohara#spiderman 2099 x reader#spiderman 2099 x you#spiderman 2099#miguel x you#miguel x y/n
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tori social media au thoughts ->
so the Lore of tori as an online presence is that she starts as a small time channel where she just rants about things in an organized fashion and links a long document of citation, and part of this is that she is resistant to any type of pandering for money. she'll take her ad revenue as a neat little treat when it comes, but she won't do any of the things you're "supposed" to do for views. so she doesn't have an outro or intro. she doesn't tell you to subscribe. she won't take sponsors (she is not getting offered sponsors). she won't clickbait or hop on trends. she is about the ART dissemination and honest discussion of information, which she does with all the energy of a feral chihuahua
this shifts slightly when she starts going on site and obito gets involved. he's sort of like "why AREN'T we doing flashy editing" and at first he just wants to zoom in on a funny detail but as things progress he's like "no but we can make tori's unhinged ranting seem professional. and also i can put giant text of the verbal typo she just made over her face." also now her outro is obito yelling a nonsequitur at her and her yelling something back. some people are like "i miss tori's murder basement :( did tobi free her?" and tori is like WHY DOES NO ONE RECOGNIZE AN OBVIOUS BASEMENT APARTMENT it was in fact a prison cell
obito does a face reveal video but he's just wearing a mask. tori wakes up to way too many fucking comments. obito keeps changing her account password and so now there's a tori2 that just argues with people. there is debate about if tori2 is an imposter or not followed by debate if maybe tobi is holding tori hostage because she seems to have lost access to the main account? this theory is laughed off as conspiracy by most people though
commenter 1: torito is out as a ship. my new otp is tori/tori2 commenter 2: tori and tori2 would rip each other apart
the tori-itachi true crime merger means kakuzu gets involved in production and now they have ad reads. kakuzu tries to get obito to make clickbait title cards and obito creates the most unhinged things of all time. they do a trend video and itachi just keeps going "i do not understand the point of this" and the viewer can watch tori's soul leave her body as her desire to explain things to itachi clashes with her desire to not be so corporate
commenter 1: so tori DOES understand the appeal of the ninja kunai challenge. curious commenter 2: know your enemy commenter 3: i'm convinced tori has committed at least three of the murders she reports on so this checks out
also there's absolutely weird shippers. there's tori/tobi and tori/itachi shippers but ALSO because tori's annoying and a woman and a lot of itachi fans hate her: itachi/tobi
itachi: (stares into space) tobi: what's this? is sempai upset? is it because he has.... home of phobia??? itachi: (stares into space harder)
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WIP GAME: The Shigaraki x reader phone sex AU
@sophsiaaa requested more info about the phone sex AU, and itâs pretty straightforward. in short, the reader works as a dispatcher at a high-end end escort service, answering questions, doing admin, and keeping phone sex clients occupied while waiting for an operator to open up. On one particular night, she finds herself on the phone with a client whoâs a different kind of weird than usual:
Youâre in the middle of familiarizing yourself with all the parts of the cell when your headset starts beeping â and when you check your screen, you see that every single operator is busy. Again.
You get paid a flat hourly rate, but you really should negotiate that up for nights you spend keeping clients occupied while they wait. You answer the phone and run through your spiel â your operatorâs not ready yet, but Iâm here, and Iâm super psyched to talk to a weirdo just like you â and wait for the inevitable question about what youâre wearing. You wait. And wait. And keep waiting, so long that you start to wonder if the callâs dropped when you werenât looking. That, or the client got so wound up hearing a womanâs voice on the phone that they had a heart attack and died. You try again. âHello?â
The callâs still live. You hear your voice echo on the other end of the call, and when you listen closer, you can hear someone breathing. Breathing sort of heavily. Great. âYou know I get paid whether you talk or not, right?â
Oops. You shouldnât have said that. Your boss will be pissed, and if whoever this is pays up, does it really matter if he says anything? Maybe he just wants to breathe heavily into the phone until timeâs up. Youâd like to think you can sit quietly while some guy does â something to the sound of you breathing on your end of the line, but it turns out thatâs beyond your power to cope with. âUm, do you want to know what Iâm wearing?â
âWhat?â
âClients usually ask that,â you say, trying to cover your shock. This client sounds young. Shiroiwaâs price point is so high that next to none of the clients are younger than forty, but this guy sounds like heâs barely out of high school. You should know â youâre barely out of high school yourself. âThey want to know what Iâm wearing so they can â um, imagine a little better.â
Silence. The breathing sounds a little less heavy and a little more hyperventilating, and you resist the urge to bang your head on the table with an effort. Why do you always get stuck with the weird ones? âSo, like I said, Iâm not actually the person youâre supposed to talk to. Iâm just here to keep you company until your partnerâs ready for you. We donât have to talk at all.â
Youâre rapidly coming to the conclusion that not talking is the best outcome for this situation. You and the client can pretend each other isnât there until you can transfer him to somebody else, somebody whoâs good with the weird ones or the shy ones. Kayoko, maybe. Sheâs great at bringing clients out of their shells. The fact that she and you and anybody else who listens in wishes theyâd never come out of their shells in the first place doesnât really matter.
âWhat are you, then?â The raspy voice is in your ear again. âIf youâre not who Iâm supposed to talk to.â
âIâm admin. Kind of a secretary.â You kick yourself instantly for the choice of words. âNot the sexy kind of secretary. Just â Iâm the one who routes the phone calls. And the messages from our chat service. Unless itâs busy.â
âItâs busy?â
âSaturday night? Itâs really busy,â you say. He sounds disappointed. âIs there somebody you were hoping to talk to specifically? I can let you know how long a wait there will be.â
âI donât care who I talk to,â the client says. You hear that from new clients a lot, before they pick a favorite operator. All the regulars have a favorite. âThis was stupid.â
âNo, it wasnât,â you say hastily. Your boss will kill you if you lose a client. Even a weird client. âTell me what you want to talk about. That way I can pick the right partner to send you to.â
âI donât know,â the client says. You glance at the info Mizuho sent and get a shock â the clientâs nineteen, same as you. âItâs â fuck. Itâs my birthday.â
âHappy birthday,â you say on autopilot, which is apparently the wrong thing to do. You can practically feel the clientâs embarrassment oozing through the phone, and you spin off into a sales pitch that sounds terrible even to you. âWell, youâve called the right service. I know a ton of our companions who can make your day really special.â
#shigaraki x reader#Shigaraki Tomura x reader#Tomura Shigaraki x reader#shigaraki x you#x reader#reader insert#clown hours
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Forever in the Dark
Part 1
Summary: Five years after the establishment of the Galactic Empire, Darth Vader follows a lead to Naboo, where he is forced to confront his past and is unexpectedly reunited with the one person who still has power over his heart.
WC: 1.5 K.
A/N: This is an unburnt Vader/Anakin AU.
Part 2 Fictober Challenge
It had been five years since Order 66 was executed, changing the fate of the galaxy forever. Anakin, now hidden behind the mask of Darth Vader, had spent those years trying to forget you- trying to forget what he had done to you on Mustafar. He had pushed the memories deep into the farthest reaches of his mind, locking them away where they couldnât touch him. But the pain? The pain, he kept close. He clung to it, allowed it to fester. It was the only part of you he let himself feel, a constant ache he willingly accepted as punishment for what heâd done. Losing you had been the final push that drove him fully to the Dark Side. Even as he buried your memory, the torment of living without you lingered, feeding the darkness within him.
Rumors had begun to surface of a civilian aiding and sheltering the remaining Jedi and Resistance fighters. Whoever this person was, they held knowledge from the days of the Republic- secrets only a few could know. The more Vader heard of this mysterious figure, the more something felt amiss- something familiar.
âLord Vader?â A Stormtrooper stepped cautiously into the dimly lit room where Vader was meditating.
âYouâd better have a good reason for interrupting me. Speakâ he ordered, his tone firm and ice-cold.
âWe intercepted a message from a rebel cell, my Lord. It reveals the location of the person weâve been searching for.â
âAnd where are they now?â Vaderâs impatience flared as the trooperâs hesitant delivery grated on him.
âNaboo, my Lord.â
The name struck him like a blow to the chest. Naboo. Your home. The place where your love had blossomed in secret, the place he once dreamed of retiring with you. He grew more suspicious of this mysterious person, and deep down, he hoped that somehow you were still alive. That despite the impossibility, youâd survived and were the person they hunted.
âPrepare my ship. We leave at once.â his voice was sharp, tolerating no delay.
As the ship sped toward Naboo, unrest clouded Vaderâs mind. He stood rigid, trying to find calm, but the uncertainty of what awaited him on the planet gnawed at him. It stirred a restless anxiety he hadnât felt in years- one that made the part of him that was still Anakin begin to stir.
âHow long until we arrive?â his impatience cracked through the air.
âNot long, my Lord. We should arrive within the hourâ a trooper responded.
Once they arrived, Vader ordered the ship to land in an undetected area.Â
Nabooâs familiar air wrapped around him like an old wound. Every step he took reminded him of you, stirring memories he had hoped would stay buried forever. Anger flickered deep within him- anger at himself, at the situation, and at the emotions bubbling back to the surface, emotions he had tried so hard to suppress.
âWait hereâ he barked.
âBut, Lord Vader, we donât know what-â
âYou dare question me?â his voice snapped, cold as a blade.
âNo, my Lord. Forgive meâ The trooper backed away quickly.
When he finally arrived at the coordinations they had intercepted, he found a small, cozy cabin overlooking the lake he once loved so much. He wanted to turn back, to return to the ship. He wished he could just destroy this place, obliterate the memories that came rushing back. But if there was even a chance that you were inside, a chance to see you again, he couldnât walk away.
His mind raced, and his heart pounded uncharacteristically fast in his chest. He felt terrified. For the first time in years, he was feeling emotions other than anger and pain. The possibility of seeing you again, of facing whatever was inside that cabin, overwhelmed him.
This was it. This was the moment he would either be disappointed or relieved- the moment that could free him from the torment, that could ease his pain. The thought that you could still be alive, after all this time, consumed him.
His hands trembled as he reached for his helmet, removing it carefully- something he hadnât done outside his private chambers since becoming Darth Vader. He inhaled deeply before opening the door to the cabin.Â
He hadnât been this nervous since the time he confessed his love to you. Stepping inside quietly, his mind spun again, consumed by negative thoughts. What if you hate him? What if you canât forgive him? And worst of all, what if you fear him? The questions made him angrier. No, he couldnât let himself be overtaken by these thoughts- not now, not when heâs so close to seeing you again.
Finally, there you were, your back to him, clearly unaware of his presence.
âY/n?â the name left his lips in a soft, broken whisper- so uncharacteristic of the Dark Lord heâd become.
You knew that voice, but it couldnât be. The man you had loved died five years ago. You turned around to see the source of the voice, and there he stood. Dressed in all black, his eyes so full of pain, his face so tired, yet unmistakably Anakin. Your Anakin.
Vaderâs breath hitched as he saw your face. You were older now, but still every bit as beautiful as he remembered. He stood frozen, his chest tightening as he took you in, every detail, every memory flooding back.
You stared at him, disbelief and shock clear in your eyes. Could this really be him? After all these years? A thousand thoughts raced through your mind, but all you managed to say was âAni?â
He flinched slightly at the sound of his old name. No one called him that anymore- no one who lived. âAniâ, only you called him that and hearing it from your lips againâŚit was like a punch to the gut. He could feel the walls around his heart cracking.
You stepped closer, scanning him as your eyes filled with tears. Unsure if this was real, you whispered âIs it really you?âÂ
He hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to say. This wasnât how he imagined your reunion. He thought youâd be angry- furious at him for what he had done, for killing- almost killing you, for everything heâd done in the last five years. Instead, he was met with disbelief and relief.
He finally found his voice, his words barely above s whisper âYes. Itâs me.â
âWh- how?â confusion was written across your face. Obi-Wan had told you he was dead- that Darth Vader had killed him.
He sighed slightly, the weight of everything heâd done pressing down on him. He wasnât sure how much you still remembered, but from the look in your eyes, you had no memory of that terrible day on Mustafar, no memory of what had caused you to go there âItâsâŚa long storyâ he said, his voice tired and weary.
When you made sure this was real- that he was real, standing in front of you, you rushed forward and threw your arms around him, your body colliding with his in a desperate embrace.Â
He stiffened, taken aback by the sudden affection and contact. But as it hit him, he slowly returned the embrace, his arms tightening around you, pulling you closer against his chest. It heaved as he closed his eyes, burying his face in your neck, breathing in the scent of you. He had missed you so much. His heart ached as he held you in his arms. It had been too damn long. He never thought heâd see you again, let alone hold you. It all felt so real, so tangible.
âIâve missed youâ you whispered, your voice cracking as you pulled back slightly to look at him. Your hands came up to touch his face, gently examining him. âIs this real or have I finally lost my mind?â
He closed his eyes, leaning into your touch, savoring the warmth of your fingers against his skin.Â
He reached up and gently placed his hands over yours âItâs realâ he whispered, his lips curving into a sad, wistful smile.
You searched his eyes, hoping for answers âWh- what happened?â you asked softly, a tear slipping down your cheek.
His expression immediately became guarded as soon as you hit him with that question. He didnât want to think about what had happened, about what he had become, and didnât want to lie to you. He swallowed hard before exhaling a long breath. âItâsâŚcomplicatedâ he said, avoiding your gaze as he turned his head slightly.
You could feel that something was bothering him âWhatâs wrong?â you asked softly, guiding his face back toward you, locking eyes with him.He let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. Whatâs wrong? He didnât know where to begin. Lightly, he wrapped his hands around your wrists and pulled them down from his face. Struggling to find the words, to explain to you, he finally said âEverything. Everything went wrongâŚâ
Tags: @mother-dragon-and-her-hatchlings @dcrthbaeder
#star wars#Anakin Skywalker#fictober#whumptober#darth vader#anakin skywalker imagine#anakin skywalker x reader#star wars imagine#angst#star wars angst#anakin skywalker angst#gif imagine#hayden christensen#fictober24#darth vader imagine#darth vader x reader#darth vader one shot#anakin skywalker one shot#star wars one shot
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Immoral Interrogation - Roger Barel
This is part 1 of 2 of the prison guard AU story set.
NSFW, Minors DNI
cw: non-con, guard x prisoner dynamic
As usual, canât guarantee 100% accuracy on this.
Roger: So you're the stubborn prisoner that won't fess up?
The person who appeared from the other side of the cell looked me up and down, then smirked.
Roger: The name's Roger Barel. I'll be the prison guard taking over your interrogation.
Kate: Roger Barel...
(The guard that can get anyone to confess?!)
I had heard his name plenty of times since the day I got here.
Even prisoners who had committed the worst crimes couldn't last 2 days with him.
(I'm scared, but...I definitely can't say anything...)
A hand reached through the bars and took a hold of my chinâ
Roger: Nice to meet ya.
Kate: Huh!
He turned around and sat on a chair in front of the cell.
Roger: Kate, female. No major criminal record to date. You were just a normal, upstanding citizen, and then you got caught stealing. However, some things don't add up with you, so I don't think you did anything wrong.
He then took out something wrapped upâ
Roger: I'll make you talk.
With a smirk, he undid the wrapping and bit into the hamburger.
Kate: Huh?
I was taken aback by him biting into his food down before he held it out toward meâ
Roger: Want some?
Kate: Um...
Roger: You can have some if you be a good girl and talk. Who're you "covering up for"?
(This person...!)
Kate: I'm not talking.
Roger: Then I'll just finish this.
And thus began the dynamic between Roger the guard and me.
He'd come in and either drink alcohol in front of me, or eat some delicious food, but I resisted each time.
This went on for a weekâ
Roger: You're really a stubborn one.
Kate: ...I'll never talk.
Roger: While I don't mind a strong-willed woman, I got a job to do. Guess I'll need to switch things up.
Kate: Eh?
I was startled by him suddenly entering the cell and tried to back up against the wall.
However, he grabbed the chains to my handcuffs and pulled them up over my head.
Kate: What are you!
A large hand raised up my clothes before it traveled between my legs.
Fingers played with the sensitive bundle of nerves through my underwear, making me writhe in pleasure as they stroked back and forth.
Kate: Please stop!
My underwear grew wetter from my slickâ
Roger: Told you I was gonna change things up.
The glint in his eyes from behind those glasses sent chills throughout my body
Roger: I've interrogated countless prisoners and have got them all to talk.
He pushed my underwear to the side, rubbing me directly.
Kate: Mnn...
I bit my lip to hold back the moans that desperately wanted to escape.
Roger: I'm not one to do unpleasant things to innocent ladies.
And then I felt a thick finger entered meâ
Kate: Waitâ
As he pumped his finger in and out, lewd, wet sounds resounded in the room.
Kate: Nghaaah....
Roger: Unfortunately, we're outta time.
His finger didn't stop and my mind was going blank from the pleasureâ
Kate: Huh...?
âHowever, before I reached my peak, his finger slipped out.
But my body hadn't comprehended the fact whenâ
Kate: Nghaah
A moan slipped out as he thrusted his finger in again. Just as I was about to comeâ
Kate: Why...
âHe pulled his finger out again with a wicked smile.
Roger: Not gonna let you come 'til you confess.
Kate: Eh...
Roger: Don't worry, it's not gonna kill you. You're just gonna feel a little funny.
--
(How many times has it been...?)
The waves of pleasure that came and went, but never completely satisfied me left my head empty and body aching.
Kate: Haaaa, mnnnn
Roger: A~ah, you're a mess. It feels so good, but you can't even move your hips to make yourself come, can you?
His fingers rubbed against a pleasurable spot, but pulled away the moment he noticed I was about to come.
Kate: Why...I don't want to do this anymore.
Just as I was about to collapse, a large, warm body held me up.
Despite the way he tortured me, I was relieved to feel his arm's tight hold around my waist.
Roger: âHey, who exactly are you "covering up" for? Spit it out.
After being thoroughly toyed with, along with him stroking my back, I was finally at my limit.
Kate: The truth is...
I told him about how I ended up here.
There was a boy who had failed to steal something by the orders of the local crime syndicate, and after learning that his whole family would get killed if he got caught, I used myself as a decoy to buy time for him to leave the city.
He patted my head after I tearfully told him the truth.
Roger: Geez, you're too soft.
Kate: ...I'm sorry for keeping quiet for so long. But please let that kid go.
He held me tight.
Roger: It's alright now. Leave everything to me.
For some reason his fingers headed toward the area between my legs.
Kate: Huh?
Roger: A reward for confessing.
Kate: I'm good...Mnnn!
I gripped onto his shirt to endure it, but it was all over for me when he whispered into my ear.
Roger: Come, Kate.
Kate: âAaahhhhh!
My mind went blank as a wave of pleasure coursed through me.
Unable to stand it any longer, my body suddenly went slack.
The words I heard through my last moments of consciousness were very reassuring.
Roger: ...I'm definitely gonna help you out. You and anyone else you're covering up for.
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đ°đľđ˛đ°đ¸đšđśđđ | j.ww
a/n: i had a terrible nightmare, but it inspired this lmao. apologies if the plot seems weird, i just went with the flow. hope you like it! (p.s. took me just a week to write this bad boy, but trust, there's more angst on the way! itll take more time bcs im super busy but i promise im gonna deliver angst)
word count: 5k contents: dystopian au , kinda inspired by divergent too , wonwoo x afab!reader , doctor!wonwoo , reader is going to die , a little graphic at the end but for like 2 seconds , flashbacks , forbidden love , HEAVY angst , sad ending
[ present - 24th november, 2024 ]
"756, your three hours begin now," an automated voice booms through the speakers placed in your cell, reverberating through the small metal chamber you've been kept in for as long as you can remember.
the door to your cell slides open, allowing you your last bit of freedom, last few hours of life, before it was all going to be taken away from you.
hyejun, the girl who occupied the cell next to you, comes into view, her eyes already filled with tears. the two of you had become friends of some sort over the last twenty-one years of captivity. although, your friendship wasn't like the ones people wrote about in books or played out in movies.
the Misfits would never have the privilege of a real friendship.
you couldn't tell each other about childhood memories, dreams, goals, or regrets, because the last twenty-one years of your lives had been spent inside the same grey walls. you couldn't go shopping at the mall, or watch movies at the cinema, because you weren't allowed to leave the facility, no matter what.
yet, hyejun was the closest you'd ever have to a friend, which is why it hurt you to see her cry profusely.
"don't cry, you idiot," you laugh, trying your best to keep yourself calm and composed. nothing good ever came out of the both of you crying together. "don't act like you forgot that this would happen some day."
"it hurt less to pretend like it wasn't," hyejun sobs, hugging you tightly. "why did we have to turn out this way?"
you wish you could answer that question.
there wasn't really any research or accurate information on how the Misfits came to be. the only piece of information told to every Misfit child the day they turn three years old is that they didn't have a place in society.
and the next thing you know, you've been shipped off to a facility to spend the rest of your lives as outcasts; as children who were deprived of their life too quickly.
at least once during their twenty-one years in a prison, every Misfit has wondered how this system came to be. who was it that decided what the Misfits were? was there a war? or an uprising? why was it declared that upon turning twenty-four, every Misfit would be executed?
you had resigned to your fate a long time ago. somewhere between the age of five and eight, when you realized that this was your lifeâliving locked up in the facility. it wasn't as restrictive as a prison, as you were allowed to spend time outside your cell for meals, showers, interacting with others, and visiting the in-house library, theater and much more. but you when you learnt that you were strictly denied any permission to leave the place where childhood innocence came to dieâyou had given up.
you stopped throwing tantrums and crying like all the other children. you stopped wanting to see the outside world again. you stopped trying to live your life. you stopped hoping. you stopped loving.
it was a cruel realization to come to at such a young age, but you never had a choice. your entire life had been decided for you, because of some goddamn reason no one knew, so you gave up on trying to fight the system.
which is why, on the day of your twenty-fourth birthday, when your last three hours on this earth were announced, there wasn't any dread or anxiety filling you. there wasn't any urge to resist and rebel against the oppression you've been subjected to.
you were just another number on the list, the seven hundred and fifty-sixth person to be killed this year.
one of the things you were thankful for was the painless death. back when you were thirteen, an old lady who worked at the facility as a cleaner had given into hyejun's incessant pleas to know how the executions occurred.
the lady had said, "it doesn't hurt at all. first, they inject you with some drug. then, you're taken into an empty white room. they have a machine in there, which i don't know much about, but in merely three minutes, you're gone."
hyejun had ended up in tears after she got to know, but all you could do was laugh to yourself. three years to live a normal life, three hours to spend before you die, and three minutes to completely wipe out your existence, as if you ever really mattered in the grand scheme of things.
ever since you came into the facility, you've seen countless people being escorted upstairs to meet their end. some scream and yell for mercy, some stab a knife into themselves before they die in a way they're not even aware of, and some people, like you, have this empty look in their eyes. they look like lifeless dolls being dragged to their doom, because anything worth living had already been snatched from their hands.
â
"one hour and fifteen minutes," hyejun whispers, looking at the timer on your wrist counting down your last few moments. "y/n, how am i going to live without you?"
"this isn't called life, junnie," you chuckle, the sound hollow and meaningless. "they should've just killed us before we were brought into this prison. this isn't a life worth living."
"how can you say that?" hyejun asks, and you look at her to gauge her expression. hyejun is one of the many people who still haven't accepted that their days are marked. she's one of the many people who hope that there is a second chance at life.
"i can say it because it's the truth," you sigh. "there's no point in grieving the loss of a life you never had."
hyejun falls silent, her expression distraught, and you feel bad for this being your last conversation with the one person you've spent your entire life with.
your heart softens just a little bit for the person who's shared this meaningless life with you, so you move closer to her on the single bed in your cell.
"i'm sorry, i guess i hadn't realized that you haven't accepted this fate like i have," you apologize, wrapping an arm around hyejun's shoulder to comfort her. "don't be too upset after i'm gone, okay? probably not the best source of motivation, but you'll just have two weeks to spend without me before..... you know." you trail off awkwardly.
"i know," hyejun nods, looking up at you. "promise me you'll find me wherever we end up once we're gone?"
"i promise," you smile, and it's probably the most genuine thing you've felt your entire life.
the two of you huddle closer, spending your last hour in silence.
the door to your cell remains open, which is why you aren't startled when two women, dressed in all-white clothing, appear at the door, one holding a glass of water, and the other a pill.
hyejun isn't as calm as you, and tears quickly spring to her eyes when she sees the two officials at the door. "y/n, it can't be-"
"764, please return to your assigned cell," one woman speaks, her tone cold and sterile, devoid of any emotion.
"i- please, just some more time, please," hyejun begs, her hands clinging onto yours, as if bargaining for more time would do anything to delay the consequence you were going to face.
"please return to your assigned cell," the woman repeats. "i will not hesitate to call security."
"junnie, go," you whisper, slowly freeing your hands from her grip. "i'll be fine, you'll be fine."
hyejun shakes her head, sobbing incessantly. "i'll miss you."
"i'll miss you too," you admit truthfully. "i'll wait for you, okay?"
hyejun nods, and after another threatening glare from the officials, she shares one last knowing look with you, and for a moment, you feel thankful for being loved by someone in this life, no matter how short or miserable it was.
hyejun goes back into her own cell, and you let your last ever interaction with her sink in.
"756, please take this pill, and then follow us upstairs," the second woman instructs, and you get off the bed to approach the women.
"happy birthday to me," you scoff to yourself, taking the pill and swallowing it down with the water.
as if some countdown has started, the two officials spring into action. each grab one arm of yours and escort you out of your room. out of the corner of your eye, you can see hyejun by her door, collapsed to the floor on her knees, sobbing and grieving the only real connection she had with anyone in this ruthless world.
you wish you could say the same, but it would be a lie.
because when you finally climb the last step, and the door to your death is opened in front of you, you find yourself looking into the chocolate-brown eyes you had foolishly let yourself fall into.
jeon wonwoo.
â
[ flashback - 28th october, 2022 ]
"i wasn't aware that you were allowed to be outside your cell past 11 p.m.," a deep voice speaks from behind you, and you nearly jump five feet into the air.
you turn to see a tall, bespectacled man standing in the kitchen, a white lab coat hanging off his broad shoulders.
he's a doctor.
"i-i'm so sorry," you gasp, realizing that you're in deep shit now. realistically, you knew that the only way you were going to leave this facility was when you died, but you had no idea what the protocol was for people who snuck out of their cells at midnight, which was against all the rules. "i just really needed some water and i didn't have any left in the cell and-"
but the doctor just smiles at you, his intimidating demeanour replaced by possibly the only smile you'll ever see that is so beautiful.
"it's alright, don't be scared," he assures you, in that rich, warm voice of his. "i'm doctor jeon. you are?"
"y/n," you reply, confused about the whole situation. were doctors supposed to be on a first-name basis with the Misfits? "i'm sorry if this sounds stupid, but are you supposed to be talking to me?"
a flicker of sadness appears in his eyes, and disappears just as quickly. "it's alright for me to talk to you. you do realize i am required to interact with everyone in this facility if they visit the infirmary, right? i'm a doctor, it's kinda my job."
your face burns with embarrassment. "sorry, that was a stupid question."
"no worries, y/n," doctor jeon laughs, seemingly endeared by your mini-meltdown. you had no idea why you were behaving this way. never in your life had you been this embarrassed or flustered around anyone. you've been living in a prison all your life, where showers are taken in communal bathrooms and privacy was a rare luxury. why did this man have to change that?
"i'm going to head back to my cell now," you clear your throat, eyes focused on the water bottle you had just filled for yourself.
"alright," doctor jeon nods. "goodnight, y/n."
you give him a nod in return, stiffly walking past him to tiptoe back to your cell. you catch a glance at his name-tag.
dr. jeon wonwoo.
the name stays on your mind for way longer than it should've.
â
[ present - 24th november, 2024 ]
"have you taken the prescribed pill?" wonwoo asks, his tone formal and cold, as if he's never seen you, never known of your existence.
you know that's far from the truth.
"yes, doctor," you reply promptly, attentively watching as wonwoo goes through a few files on his desk. you see his features harden for a second at the name you addressed him with, a giveaway of how much he hated it when you called him that.
"it'll take a minute for the pill to take effect," wonwoo says. "please head over to the chair."
you wordlessly move over to the black leather armchair in the room, sitting on it as instructed. the situation is built on similar circumstances from the past, but it feels so devastatingly unfamiliar and strange.
you don't know if it's the air-conditioner or the cold look in wonwoo's once-loving eyes that makes you shiver.
â
[ flashback - 24th november, 2022 ]
"i'll walk you to the infirmary," hyejun offers. the morning of your twenty-second birthday, you had woken up with a high fever. your body was so weak, you couldn't even move to get off the bed.
thankfully, despite the prison-like feel, the facility wasn't too restrictive with regards to the cell doors being locked, or neighbouring cellmates interacting, which is why hyejun could come into your cell and take you to the infirmary.
you're barely conscious when you enter. you can hear hyejun's muffled voice talking to the doctor on duty, explaining to them your condition, all while you struggle to stay standing upright.
soon, a familiar pair of glasses swim into your vision, strong arms lift you and place you on one of the beds, and a gentle touch on your forehead lulls you to sleep.
the name-tag catches your attention before your eyes close.
â
"doctor jeon?" you croak out, voice groggy with sleep. the doctor looks up from his desk to see you sitting up in bed, finally awake after being asleep for almost the entire day.
"ah, y/n, you're up," wonwoo smiles at you. "how are you feeling now?"
"the fever seems to be gone," you reply after a moment, feeling much better than earlier in the morning.
"that's good to hear," wonwoo nods. "your friend mentioned that it was your birthday today. happy birthday, y/n."
you sigh. "doctor, i appreciate your gesture, but having a birthday is hardly an occasion that calls for happiness, is it? birthdays are never happy for someone like me."
a similar flicker of sadness flashes in wonwoo's eyes, reminding you of the first encounter in the kitchen a month ago.
"i'm sorry, i should've known-"
"it's alright," you interrupt his apology. "at least the infirmary is a change of scenery. never had a birthday party in here before, doctor." you joke, because somehow, seeing a frown on wonwoo's face felt like it should be a crime for him to be anything but happy.
"call me wonwoo, please," he chuckles. "being called doctor by someone who's the same age feels a little embarrassing."
"we're the same age?" you question, sitting up a little straighter. "next thing you're going to tell me is that we have the same favorite color."
"i like blue," wonwoo says.
"me too!" you gasp, the both of you bursting into laughter instantly.
the infirmary was empty for the rest of the day, and the two of you filled it with laughter and stories. wonwoo gladly took the lead, telling you all about his life up until he was hired to work at the facility six months ago, and you listened eagerly. it felt like you lived life through his stories, and it stirred this dangerous feeling inside you.
you had found something that gave you hope, in a universe where hope never worked in your favor.
â
[ present - 24th november, 2024 ]
"details of subject 756. full name, lee y/n. sex, female. date of birth, 24th november 1999-"
wonwoo's voice reading out all your details, the only pieces of information that gave you any form of self-identity, was getting hard to listen to with no response.
"stop."
"756, not interrupting the procedure would be advised," wonwoo addresses you, not even looking your way, his eyes trained on the file in front of him.
"why are you treating me like you don't know who i am?" you ask him in a quiet voice. "as if we didn't spend almost two years together, in love-"
"756, no interruptions, please." wonwoo grits out, sounding just as hurt as you felt.
"you hated it when i called you doctor, and now you won't even call me by my name?" you scoff, and that seems to rouse a reaction out of wonwoo.
"you are nothing but a number on this long list of people that i have to kill," wonwoo seethes, leaving his desk to come stand in front of you. "this is our reality now, 756. whatever happened in those two years, it was a dream, a fantasy."
"our love wasn't real? the hope you gave me wasn't real?" you challenge, standing up from the armchair. "you promised me, every day, that you'd change this, that i wouldn't have to-"
"then you were stupid for believing me!" wonwoo yells, cutting you off. "you should've known that i was an idiot in love, that i would've promised you anything if it meant i could see you smile. if it meant i could see you live the last few years of your life happily."
â
[ flashback - 1st january, 2023 ]
soon after your twenty-second birthday, you had grown much closer to wonwoo. you'd visit the infirmary for no reason, just to spend hours with him, learning about how the outside world worked. there were afternoons where he'd show you pictures of mountains, oceans, parks, children, and animals that he'd taken. there were evenings where he'd sneak you into his quarters, where he'd read you a book, or turn on a random movie he thought you'd appreciate.
it started feeling less like a friendship, and more like love. the way his eyes would light up when you entered the infirmary to greet him good morning, the way his ears would turn red if any other staff at the facility would get close to figuring out his relationship with you, the way he'd hold your hand or run his fingers through your hair, and the way he'd smile at you, kissing your cheek as a goodnight before going back to his own quarters.
you knew you were foolish for falling in love with wonwoo, especially when you had such limited time to love him properly. so you began to distance yourself from him. you stopped visiting him, avoided his attempts to talk, and tried your best to forget him.
it didn't work.
it only ended up in you being dragged to the infirmary by hyejun, when you woke up on january 1st complaining of a terrible stomach ache.
it was wonwoo who took care of you then.
"you've been avoiding me," wonwoo says quietly, watching you take the medicine he gave you. "did i do something wrong?"
you stay silent, wondering if you should tell him the truth or keep it hidden.
"i've fallen in love with you."
the truth it is then.
wonwoo gapes at you, blinking repeatedly as he tries to process your words. after a minute, he regains his composure and says, "i love you too. now why were you ignoring me?"
he asked you to be his girlfriend three days later, and for the first time since you've entered the facility, your heart starts to long for more time.
â
[ present - 24th november, 2024]
"yeah, i was stupid," you laugh sadly. "i was stupid to believe that you'd actually do something to fight for us."
"and risk both our lives in the process?" wonwoo argues. "if anyone would've found out, we'd both be killed, and not the painless way."
"well, one of us is going to die anyways!" you raise your voice, the tears you've desperately held back finally spilling over. "why did you have to love me? why did you have to make me want to live? do you know how hard it is for your face to be the last thing i see before i die?"
"and you think that this is making me happy?" wonwoo says, anger, love, helplessness, all emotions bleeding into his voice. "i loved you too. heck, i still do, and even after you're gone, i'll-"
"just do it. do whatever you need to do to kill me," you stop him from finishing his sentence. five-year old you had promised to give into your fate no matter what happens. and even though seeing the only man you've loved about to end your life is breaking your heart into a million pieces, you wouldn't be alive for too long to feel that pain.
"no-" wonwoo shakes his head. "i was stupid. i should've done something sooner. i was scared and i'm sorry. i'll get you out."
â
[ flashback - 19th september, 2023 ]
"i'll get you out," wonwoo whispers into your ear. you've just pulled him into a hug before you go back into your cell for the night when the words are muttered into the skin of your neck. "i won't let you die, y/n. not like this."
"won, what are you saying?" you ask, pulling away to face him. "are you nuts?"
"i love you and i can't bear the thought of having to lose you," wonwoo breathes out, his voice sounding strained. "i can't lose you."
"wonwoo, this is the system," you scoff. "i can't not die, it's not possible."
"just trust me," wonwoo shakes his head. "i'll get you out."
you let yourself believe him.
â
[ present - 24th november, 2024 ]
"i'm not letting myself fall for empty promises anymore," your words ring out loud and clear. "just get this over with, doctor."
"y/n-"
"756. that's how you're instructed to address me, doctor," you correct him.
"i can't. i won't do this to you," wonwoo refuses, moving closer to stand in front of you and place his hands on your shoulders. "we can get out, y/n. please, let me try."
â
[ flashback - 19th september, 2024]
"there's no way out," wonwoo mutters, and you feel the hope building in your chest crumble to dust.
"what- what do you mean?" you stammer. "wonwoo, you said you'd find a way-"
"i couldn't," he sighs. "not with management breathing down my neck. they already suspect i'm in close contact with one of the Misfits, and i don't want to give them a reason to make your last few months any worse."
"did you even try?" your voice breaks, your hopes and dreams slowly getting crushed.
"i didn't," wonwoo replies hesitantly. "i'm being monitored, especially after the promotion-"
"promotion?"
"i've been assigned to the room upstairs."
the room upstairs. where every Misfit goes to die.
"you- you never told me about this," your voice is strangled, the weight of wonwoo's words pressing down on your chest like an invisible weight.
"that's because you had no business knowing about it," wonwoo snaps. "look, y/n, from now on, you and i are nothing but strangers. whatever we had between us, it has to end now."
â
[ present - 24th november, 2024 ]
"you ended things. we're strangers now," you remind wonwoo, and the tears finally escape his eyes. "you shouldn't care this much for strangers, doctor."
"y/n, i'm sorry," wonwoo chokes out, tears streaming down his face, and you belatedly realize that youâre crying too. with the back of your hand, you wipe away the unnecessary and immature tears. this was your fate.
âyou didnât try when you said you would, wonwoo,â you lower your gaze, staring at the floor. "there's no happy ending for us now. there never was."
"i know. i was an asshole for promising you something i couldn't give to you, but i know i'm going to spend the rest of my life regretting not helping you now," wonwoo argues. he holds your hands in his.
"please, y/n, give me another chance."
"you know what's funny, wonwoo?" you laugh bitterly, looking up at the man you will love till the moment you die. "at least you have a lifetime you can spend regretting. at least you have a lifetime to start afresh, find someone else, fall in love. i only had you. you were my world, and it hurt so much when you lied to me and showed me dreams i never should've seen."
"i only said all those things because i loved you then, and i love you now as well," wonwoo's voice is shaky now. he knows your time together is nearing to a close, and with every passing second, he dreads the passing of the remainder of his life without you. "i was foolish to promise you freedom, but it was only because i hated that look of hopelessness in your eyes. and you have all the right to blame me, but let me just try-"
"if you're so sure you can get me out now, why didn't you do it earlier?" you cut him off. "why now? right before i have to die?"
you see the look of guilt flash in wonwoo's eyes. your eyes fall to the white lab coat he's wearing, the symbol of the facility embroidered into the fabric, right above where his name-tag sits.
you raise your hand to brush your fingers against the only name you had desperately hoped to call out for the rest of your life.
you realize that while it was your fate was to die, wonwoo's fate was to live. the purpose of your life was to live twenty-four years on this miserable earth and then vanish, while wonwoo's role was to take your life.
no matter how realistic those two years felt, it was impossible for the two of you to be together. you were carrying out your meaningless life, and wonwoo was fulfilling his duty. a duty that never involved loving you or rescuing you.
the bitterness brewing in you for the last couple of months comes to a rest, because you understand.
"i don't blame you," you utter quietly, hands coming up to rest against wonwoo's chest. if you tried really hard, you could delude yourself into thinking that this was just another morning you would spend with wonwoo, in his embrace, living life as if you had the gift of endless time.
"you were scared too, weren't you?"
wonwoo's face crumbles. he leans forward into you, resting his head on your shoulder as his body shakes with the intensity of his cries.
you hold him tight, and you feel sorry for giving him this warmth and comfort right before you left his life forever.
"you should have never loved me," wonwoo sobs. "i thought i was making your last years something you wouldn't hate, but i just-"
"you made my last years the happiest i've ever been," you stop him. "i don't regret loving you wonwoo, not even for a second. and i'm sorry i was angry at you for not helping me get out. i was too blinded by betrayal to realize that it could cost your life too."
"it wouldn't have mattered if you got to live," wonwoo shakes his head.
"it would've, because i wouldn't have you to live my life with," you say softly. wonwoo pulls away from you. his eyes are red and puffy, and your heart aches with the urge to kiss him, one last time.
"i'm sorry," you whisper. "i'm sorry that we ended up this way. god, if i had it any other way, i would've done anything to grow old with you."
"i'm sorry too," wonwoo sniffles. "for not fighting enough for us."
"it can't be helped now," you smile sadly at him. "maybe in another universe, we get to travel the world with each other and do everything we couldn't do in this one."
"it's time to let go, wonwoo," you say, pressing one final kiss against his lips.
wonwoo inhales deeply after you back away from him. he walks back to the desk, takes out a syringe filled with a clear liquid with shaking hands and comes back to face you.
"i'll find you in every other universe, and i'll love you till the end of time," wonwoo looks into your eyes, and this one feels like a real promise.
"i know you will," you hold the wrist of the hand holding the syringe to steady it.
wonwoo presses the needle into the skin of your neck, the place where he had whispered a promise of a better life before, and you squeeze your eyes shut.
"it won't hurt at all," wonwoo whispers as an assurance, and his free hand holds yours tightly.
the needle breaks through skin, the liquid is injected, and your last three minutes begin.
you open your eyes, and nothing feels like it's changed, but then wonwoo approaches you with a black eye-mask.
"i don't want you to see what happens," he explains, and you nod to give him permission. he slips the fabric onto your head, and your vision is blocked.
the last thing you see is his name-tag.
you hear the turn of a door knob, the sound of a door creaking open, and wonwoo's last words to you.
"i love you."
you feel gentle hands guide you into the room just opened, a pair of lips pressing a kiss to your temple, the warmth of wonwoo leaving you.
you're alone.
you smell the sterile antiseptic used to clean the room, a vague burning scent, your impending death.
your time is nearly up.
you taste the salt of the last tears you'll ever shed, the sour flavor of tragic love, blood.
it's almost over.
and then, nothing. it's like your senses have stopped working all of a sudden, and you're in a vacuum.
your hands tug off the eye-mask, but you can't see anything either. you realize it's the effect of the injection.
and it's good that you can't see, hear, feel, smell, or taste anymore.
otherwise you'd see the transparent glass wall separating you from a sobbing wonwoo, hand trembling above the red button that brought about your end.
you'd hear the lasers in the room charging up.
you'd feel a scorching heat all over your skin.
you'd smell your flesh burning till you're reduced to ashes, meant to be swept off.
you'd taste the kiss of death.
the timer rings; three minutes are up.
dr. jeon wonwoo ticks 756 off his checklist.
- fin.
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This is for your y2k!
âPhotographâ by Ed Sheeran for Toji Fushiguro - angst
We keep this love in a photograph, we made these memories for ourselves.
Read Part Two - Make You Feel My Love
Pairing: Toji x f!reader
Word Count: ~3.1k
cw: implied family abuse, angst, some fluff, modern day-au, no curses au, a kiss, time skip
Summary: Toji Zenin is scary; heâs the most intimidating boy in your class. When youâre paired with him for a group project, youâre nervous that heâs as bad as he seems. However, you learn that behind that hard exterior is a person yearning just to be normal.Â
Authorâs Note: The first story for the y2k karaoke party! Inspired by âPhotographâ by Ed Sheeran. Thank you @gojoshooter for submitting this song/request! I hope you like this one! Divider created by @/cafekitsune.
You meet Toji in high school, when youâre paired up randomly for a project during your last semester of senior year. Heâs a transfer student, having just joined a month ago, introducing himself briefly with a scowl on his face, uninterested in anything. Aside from his obvious stature, the evident scar running across his mouth stands out. Most of your peers avoid him, intimidated by his overwhelming presence. Heâs bigger than everyone else, both in height and muscle; he looks like someone you donât want to mess with. Even teachers do their best to evade him, leaving him to his own devices in the back corner of the classroom. At least he isnât disruptive; most of the time, he keeps to himself.Â
Of course, in a school as small as yours, gossip spreads like wildfire. They say he comes from a prominent family, the âZeninâsâ. Youâve never heard of them; apparently, they are notoriously elitist and filthy rich. So, it surprises you that a son of the Zenin clan would attend a public school like yours rather than a private institution. Maybe heâs different.Â
Everyone dreads group projects, let alone randomly assigned group projects. Everyone is on pins and needles, waiting to hear who their partner is. When your name follows his, your heart sinks into your belly. Sighs of relief wash over the rest of your classmates, thankful that they arenât you. Taking a deep breath, you get up from your seat, slowly walking towards him. When youâre by his desk, he doesnât look up. You clear your throat to say, âHello. I guess weâre partners for this project.â
He scoffs, twirling a pen between his fingers, brows furrowed, irritated already. âGreat,â he mutters, sarcastically.Â
Okay, maybe heâs not different.
~~~
Your teacher calls this project âA Week in the Lifeâ. Basically, youâre tasked to capture your partnerâs daily routines throughout the week in the form of photographs. Each student is given a disposable camera, loaded and ready to use. Once developed, youâre supposed to put them together into a collage, decorating it however you desire. A short essay is also required, describing what you will learn about the other person after spending this time with them. You have an entire month to complete everything. Weekdays are repetitive, considering most of the day youâre in school; itâs the afternoons, nights, and weekends that set each person apart from the other. Â
âIâm not inviting you into my house,â Toji says, crossing his arms over his chest.Â
âBut thatâs part of the project. Iâm supposed to see what you do on a daily basis.â You resist the urge to sound equally as annoyed, not wanting to start off on the wrong foot.
He glares at you, hunched over his desk. âI avoid going home as much as possible. Thatâs what I usually do.â
You swallow hard, unsure how to respond. Eventually, you murmur, âWell then, you can do me first. Weâll just figure yours out later.â
He shrugs, unenthused. âWhatever.â
You pull your phone out of your pocket, sliding it towards him. âLetâs exchange numbers so we can coordinate our schedules. We can start next week.â He doesnât argue, pushing his cell to you to do the same.Â
As planned, the following Monday, Toji begins taking random photos of you during the school day. It starts off in class when he captures you working at your desk. Other students are doing the same, so it isnât as awkward as you expect it to be. Still, it feels odd being watched by Toji through the lens of the camera.
At lunchtime, he sits with you and your friends in the cafeteria, his big body smushed next to yours as you munch on your meal. You notice that he hasnât brought anything to eat except for a protein bar and sports drink. Not thinking anything of it, you split your egg salad sandwich into two triangles, handing him one. He glances at it, then at you, confused. âWhat?â
âEat it.â
He makes a face, taking it reluctantly, having the audacity to sniff it before taking a bite. When he doesnât say anything, expression relaxing, you smile to yourself, satisfied. Itâs gone two bites later, and from your peripheral, you see him lick the excess off his thumb. Mouth still full, he mumbles a brisk, âThanks,â snapping his drink open to take a swig.Â
After school, you attend a book club meeting thatâs hosted every Monday by your friend. Toji snaps a photo of you and your group posing with your book for this month. Before you leave for dinner, a few of the girls whisper to you about how hot he is, how lucky you are to be paired up with such a hunk. How scary he comes off with his scowls and glares. Theyâre so loud, youâre certain he can hear, but he doesnât mention anything about it. That is, until youâre alone with him, walking home together.Â
âSo, do you think Iâm scary?â He has his hands in his pockets, looking down at the ground where he walks besides you.Â
The question catches you off guard. âHuh?â
âDo you think Iâm scary?â he repeats, looking at you now, smirking.Â
You grin. âMaybe a little bit at first. Not so much anymore.â
âWhat changed?â
âI saw you inhale that sandwich. The tough guy act disappeared in that moment.â
âHey, that thing was tiny. I could have swallowed it in one bite,â he chuckles, kicking a pebble on the ground. âAnd Iâm not putting on a tough guy act. This is just who I am.â
You giggle softly, smiling at him. âWell, Iâm looking forward to getting to know you better, Zenin.â
âToji. Call me Toji.âÂ
~~~
Dinner with your parents goes by smoothly. Youâve prepared them for this special visitor, urging them to be on their best behavior and not judge a book by his cover. Naturally, your mother is startled when his big frame enters through the doorway, but when he bows to her, introducing himself respectfully, she eases up. After a quick tour of your house, Toji snaps shots of you helping your parents in the kitchen. With the whole spread laid out on the table, he takes another photo before you all gather around to eat.Â
Much like earlier in the day, Toji scarfs his meal, mumbling out compliments to the chef. Your parents are thrilled, dropping more servings onto his plate, watching with pride as their cooking is devoured. You canât help wanting to capture this memory, so you retrieve your own disposable camera from your backpack, taking his picture. He doesnât seem to mind.Â
The two of you eat ice cream sandwiches in your backyard while your parents wash the dishes. The sun is setting, beautiful golden streaks shining from the horizon. Your classmate takes a candid of you sitting on the patio chair, staring at the last moments of daylight. âDo your parents cook like that every day?â he asks, finishing off the last of his dessert.
âNah, they just wanted to impress you.â
âWell, I am thoroughly impressed. That was the best meal Iâve had in a long time.â
After just one day with him, you feel comfortable enough to ask, hoping that it isnât crossing the line. âDo you dislike eating at home?â
He doesnât respond right away, thinking of his answer carefully. âYeah, I do.â
âWhy?â
He smirks, running his thumb along the scar on his lips. âDinners at my house donât always end in dessert, if you know what I mean.âÂ
Your jaw drops, unable to contain your reaction. âYouâre sayingâŚâ
He leans back into his seat. âYup. Got a knife thrown at me.â
âWhat?!âÂ
Laughing, he nods. âAfter that, I didnât like having dinners there.â
Youâre tempted to ask for the whole story, but you know itâs pushing it. Instead, you offer, âWell, youâre always welcome here.â
Itâs a simple comment. To you, itâs nothing. Maybe itâs because youâre used to offering kindness to others; itâs what you were raised to do. Itâs what the people around you do. Itâs common. Second-nature, really.Â
But as Toji stares at you, wearing an expression youâve never seen before, one of genuine gratefulness, you realize that to him, itâs not nothing. Itâs special.Â
Throughout the remainder of the week, Toji spends practically his whole day with you, morning, noon, and night. During this time, you learn that his family is wealthy, though he chose to attend this school on his own will, just to spite them. He considers himself an outcast, the black sheep of the Zenin clan, so much so that he even refuses to associate himself with the family name. And while heâs sure heâs better off away from the snooty rich kids of the school he would have attended, his intimidating appearance and less-than-friendly attitude has made him an outcast amongst your peers. You feel guilty being part of the problem, judging him before getting to know him. Heâs actually easy to talk to. It helps that heâs an open book about his personal life.Â
Saturday, you plan to go to the aquarium with your family, inviting him to tag along for the project (and for fun). Toji is at your doorstep right on time, dressed in a tight black tee shirt and grey sweatpants, accentuating his chiseled figure. Thereâs no denying it; heâs very attractive. Youâd be lying to yourself if you said it hasnât crossed your mind. But Toji doesnât need people to be attracted to him; he needs a friend. And thatâs what youâll be to him.Â
Itâs a fun day, observing all the fish and aquatic creatures swimming in their tanks. He takes pictures whenever itâs appropriate, covering the flash with his finger as to not disturb any of the animals inside. You eat lunch together in the cafeteria, Toji offering to pay for it as thanks for all the kindness he was shown this week. Near closing time, you take one last stroll through the jellyfish section, marveling at the wonderfully bizarre invertebrates floating in the water.Â
âIâve never been to an aquarium before,â he admits, quietly admiring them beside you. His eyes twinkle with the glow of the iridescent jellyfish swimming in front of him. Â
âReally?â
âYeah.â
You nudge him playfully. âSo, what do you think?â
He smiles, rubbing the spot on his arm that you touched. âBetter than I expected.â
~~~
The following week is his turn. The closest you get to his mansion of a home is on the outside, not even through the gates.Â
âThis is for your own good,â he warns, throwing a twig aggressively between the spaces of the iron bars.Â
You snap a quick photo with your disposable, not questioning it. When youâre finished, he smirks. âSo, ready for some real fun?â
Toji spends his days after school at various locations. Basically everywhere except his own home. The public library, the gym, arcades, shopping malls, cafĂŠs, you name it. Heâll eat dinner at whatever restaurant his stomach fancies at the moment: Ramen, Takoyaki, steak, even instant ramen, depending on his mood. And while his life seems fun from the outside, like a kid in a candy store, itâs lonely. Except for when heâs with you.
Saturday is different from the other days. On the weekends, he goes to the beach, bag packed with his favorite books and snacks, ready to relax on the sand with the waves crashing against the shore. He sets up a large umbrella to cover both of you as you settle into the big blanket laid flat. He passes you one of his books, a volume of his favorite manga. The two of you read in a comfortable silence, sharing a bag of chips, fingers brushing against each otherâs whenever you reach at the same time.Â
Out of the blue, he comments, âThis is nice. Itâs normal.â
Laughing, you reply, âWhat do you mean?â
He sets his book down, looking at you. âNothing about my family is normal. Itâs just nice to feel like a human instead of a failure.â
Your eyes widen, uncertain how to respond. Before you can say anything, he murmurs, âSorry. I didnât meant to kill the mood.â
You close the manga, smiling gently at him. âDonât be. I canât imagine what itâs like. My life is very normal.â
âThatâs what I like about you, though.â
Heat rushes into your cheeks at his statement, and maybe itâs your imagination, but you see him blush. Youâve taken enough pictures to complete your project, but thereâs still a bit of film left. âLetâs take a picture together,â you suggest, holding the camera in your hand, trying to lighten the mood.
âSeriously? Why?â
âTo celebrate being normal, even if it just for a day.â
He grins, scooting closer to you. âOkay.â
You lean against him, both of you smiling, capturing the moment with the click of your finger.Â
~~~
Toji doesnât stop eating lunch with you. Even with your photos at the lab, being developed, he remains by your side, eating the extra sandwich you always pack for him now. Occasionally, heâll stop by for dinner, always welcomed by your parents. On the other days, you accompany him to whatever restaurant heâs craving.Â
When the photos are complete, you pick them up together, not wanting to share them yet, hoping to be surprised on the day theyâre displayed in the classroom. At home, you compile the pictures into a stylish collage, decorating the borders with fun stickers, smiling as you gaze at each photo of him. One at the arcade, holding a toy guy in his hands with the high score flashing in the background. Another at the gym, whereâs heâs kicking a punching bag, making it look far too easy. Finally, thereâs the last photo you took at the beach, the two of you posing for the camera. Itâs a cute picture, one that shows two people who live very different lives happily enjoying their time together. You tape it right in the middle.Â
When everyoneâs posters are hung around the classroom, many people flock to Tojiâs, desperate for a glimpse in his mysterious life. Many gawk at the mansion behind the gates, unaware of the dark secrets it holds. The girls ogle the gym picture, while the boys admire it, asking for workout tips. Toji looks pleased with how his collage turns out, especially intrigued by the photo in the center. âYou included the one of us, huh?âÂ
âItâs too cute, isnât it? I had to include it.â
He smiles at you. âI totally agree.â
He walks you home that afternoon, a usual part of his routine now. Curious, you ask, âSo, what did you write about me for your essay?â
âI wrote about how nerdy you are, going to class and willingly going to clubs after school. For fun,â he emphasizes, rolling his eyes, teasing you.
You poke his arm playfully. âAndâŚ?â
âI said that you and your family are really nice. And that your parents should be chefs,â he adds, grinning.
You laugh, hooking your arm around his. âThatâs more like it.âÂ
Before you know it, youâre at one of the parks he frequents, sitting side-by-side at his favorite bench. âWhat did you say? About me?â he asks, staring at his hands in his lap.Â
Without thinking, you rest your head on his shoulder. âThat youâre not actually scary. Youâre just you. And who you are is pretty great. Really great, actually.âÂ
Thereâs a pause while he processes what you said. Afraid that itâs too far, you attempt to back away from him, but he catches you first, pulling you in for a kiss. Itâs hesitant, like heâs unsure if this is okay. And when you place your hand on his chest, feeling his quickening heartbeat race against your fingertips, the kiss deepens, his lips parting open to slide his tongue inside your mouth. Before it gets any further, he pulls off quickly. Electricity hangs in the air, buzzing on your lips, tingling on every inch of your skin.
âIâm sorry,â you apologize, throat heavy. âI shouldnât have done that. I just thought â â
âYouâre right. You shouldnât have,â he spits out, jaw clenched, avoiding your gaze. Itâs a harsh voice you havenât heard the entire time since the start of your friendship.
âBut I thought you liked â âÂ
âYouâre wrong. I donât. I â ,â he swallows, struggling to get the words out. âAnd I never will.â He stands up, turning his back towards you, leaving you alone with tears streaming down your face, embarrassed, confused, and heartbroken.Â
Itâs the last time youâll see of him. He doesnât come back to class after that incident. Rumor has it that he came in early the next morning to gather all his belongings, which wasnât much to begin with. Thereâs more gossip about it, of course, ridiculous chatter. Eventually, they fade, and his name is no longer uttered by anyone, including you. Months pass, and gradually, new memories overtake the old ones. Life goes on without him. You donât notice the center photo of your collage is gone until you collect it at the end of the schoolyear.Â
Heâll never tell you that itâs for your own good. That turning his back on you is the best option to keep you safe. No matter how much he opens up to you, his reality is much worse than you can ever know. Hurting you is his way of protecting you. Because loving you is too dangerous, especially for someone like him. Â
~~~
Ten years later, youâre an elementary school teacher in your hometown. You planted yourself right where your roots grew. There is nothing but grand memories in this place youâre lucky to call your home. The only exception is the abandoned plot of land where the Zenin mansion was demolished a few years ago without any explanation. You preserve its memory in the form of a tattered photograph, forgotten somewhere in your closet.
Today, thereâs a new student transferring into your kindergarten class; an adorable little boy with jet black hair and long eyelashes named Megumi. He reminds you of someone from your past, someone you kept buried in the back of your mind a while ago, for your own sanity.
Little do you know that on the other side of the door, Toji Fushiguro leans against the wall, listening carefully to your familiar voice introducing yourself to his son. He smiles to himself, the month you shared together all those years ago fondly replaying in fast forward in his mind. Heâs no longer a Zenin, unleashed from the cruelty of his ancestry, liberated from the life he was cursed with from birth. Free to love who he wants without fearing that their life is in danger by the hands of his wretched family.Â
He sticks his hands in his pocket, fingers brushing along the corners of the withered photo of the two of you smiling at the beach. With a deep breath, he grips the handle of the door, finally ready to face you at long last.
#toji fushiguro#toji x reader#toji x you#toji x y/n#toji zenin#fushiguro toji x reader#fushiguro toji#jjk toji#toji angst#jjk angst#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen toji#toji fushiguro x reader#toji fushiguro x you#toji fluff#jujutsu kaisen x reader#y2k karaoke party#milestone event
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even in undeath - chapter 1.
lich king aemond x reader a 'world of warcraft' AU. prev | next
The Lich King is the master and lord of the Scourge. Consisting of thousands of walking corpses, disembodied spirits, beasts of the north, and damned mortal men, the Scourge is a terrifying and insidious enemy.
word count: 2.3k
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content: DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT, DUBCON, smut, heavy heavy angst, graphic depictions of violence, allusions to cannibalism, imprisonment, kidnapping, murder, suicidal thoughts and ideation, mutilation of corpses, obsessive aemond, dark aemond, a happy ending is not in our future. PLEASE MIND THE TAGS! This story will be pretty dark.
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It was dark and cold. There was a faint dripping of water somewhere off to the side, but you couldnât quite see where. The echoes of whimpers ricocheted off of the craggy walls, stinging your eardrums.Â
This was the descent into madness, wasnât it?
You werenât sure how long youâd been chained up forâ how long had it been since your village burned to the ground? Since you watched the ghouls rip apart the cow farmer from down the road. Since you watched hellhounds crunching on little Mary Jayâs bones. Since you had watched your mother and stepfather plead and beg for their lives, for forgiveness, for mercy, for absolution of their supposed sins before the death knightâs sword lopped their heads off.Â
How long has it been?Â
Shifting slightly, the chain tied to your throat clinked against the wall. There was no light, no passage of time to be had in the dank, pitch black cave they stowed you and a few select others in. You only had on a ragged potato sack as a dress, the sensation of dirt and grime caked on your hair and under your nails making you feel less than human.Â
Butâ you were still human. For now. The Scourge had ravaged the Eastern Kingdoms without mercy, swiping through the North and South like a fast traveling plague, curdling and damning everything it touched. Hordes of undead zombies, ghouls and hellhounds were the first to raze the cities, driving out the people like mice from the walls. Then the banshees came, along with the necromancers to raise the dead, adding them to a forever amounting army.
Not even Quelâthalas had been able to resist it, an ancient elven city hewn in magic.
What chance did you have?Â
More than most, evidently. Your mind wrought itself over and over as to whyâ why were you alive? Why were you still human and not merely a risen thrall?Â
The clinking of armor scared you as it ascended the hallway. You pressed close to the wall and closed your eyes.Â
Please donât stop here, please donât stop here.Â
Clink, clink, clink⌠closer⌠closerâŚÂ
Then it passed, descending further away. You let out a breath, your blood still pumping in your ears.Â
Clink, clink, clink. They were coming back. Clink⌠silence. You felt bile rise in your throat as you shook, the chains rattling noisily. You knew they were standing there, you knew they were here for you.Â
A harsh tug upon your chain, your head hitting the floorâ some words were mumbled, the voice sounding far away and broken. Your eardrums rang with the ferocity of your fall, drowning out any semblance of what your jailer was saying to you. Then, you were tugged upward, the cool metal of the collar biting into your skin as you were dragged like a petulant child away from your cellâŚÂ
You didnât want to open your eyes. You couldnât face the horror you knew was around youâ corpses, living ones and dead, the clatter of bones, the heavy breathing of gargantuan abominations, bodies and faces of countless people stitched together into a new body, hewn with thread and necrotic magic until it gave way to something else entirely. Something unnatural, something made of nightmares. The dermis of those who were used to make the monsters would still twitch, reach out on its own, and if it had a mouth, it would be twisted into a scream. You swore that you heard them whispering as you were dragged by.Â
The monstrosities were one of many abhorrent creatures at the Scourgeâs disposal. Hellhounds, ghouls, gargoyles, wraiths, crypt lords, geists, banshees, and other things of horrific nature were only some of the power wielded by the Scourge. It felt like it was all pulled out of a childâs fairytale, changed and twisted and defiled into what it was now.Â
It all felt like a very bad dream.Â
Your eyes opened on their own and you took in the image of death knights, former paladins who served a higher power, the Lightâ now are nothing but undead heretics, glowing eyes and gaunt stares that bored through you.Â
Some of the monsters chittered as you were dragged past them, leering and looking hungry.Â
âScrawny that one. Perhaps she will suffice for hellhounds to pick their teeth.â
âSpeak for yourself, her skin will do beautifully on a new abomination.âÂ
âShe wonât be knighted. Merely a maidâs bastard, Iâve heard.â
You forced your eyes to close once more, the sudden light stinging them. You forced yourself into another time, a better memory than what you were experiencing.Â
They were right, you were a maidâs bastard. Your mother had served in the royal keep for years, with you under her feet. You didnât know who your true father was, nor did you care.
You became attached to the second son of the Kingâ Aemond Targaryen. He was a sprightly boy with near white hair and luminous violet eyes. The two of you were attached at the hip.Â
Childhood friendship blossomed into more as you grew into teenagers and young adultsâ you shared your first kiss together, you held hands and shared sweet nothings. As he trained by day to become a paladin of the Light, he held you close by night, vowing to never let you go. You were both terribly in love and so terribly, terribly naive. He was your first in everythingâ your first friend, your first kiss, your first lover. You promised yourself that he would stay your first and only.
âYou can never marry a maidâs bastard, Aemond! Youâre a prince of the realm-â
âI donât care! I want her, father. Iâve always wanted her!â
Your mother quit her job at the castleâ moreso, threatened into quitting by some of the Kingâs advisors. She was given a considerable amount of coin and told to take you far, far away and to not contact the prince again.Â
Heartbroken, you left him your sapphire ring, the only thing of value you ever had, which had been passed down through your motherâs family for generations.Â
It was left on his desk with a note of few words but much feeling.Â
âI love you. Iâm sorry.âÂ
That was over ten years ago. You hadnât seen him since, but you missed him horribly. Especially now. You wondered if he was still alive, fighting against the Scourge like his knightly vows dictated.Â
Maybe he was married and moved across the sea to Kalimdor where it was safer.Â
Or maybe he was dead. Dead like almost everyone else you knew.Â
You heard a rumor, fleeting and without much more information, that his father had diedâ no, that his father had been murdered. The fall of the king, Viserys, is what started the Scourge war. Did Aemond know, wherever he was?Â
You imagined him holding his arms around you, kissing your neck and fanning his breath over your skin. He liked to encompass you completely with his body when you laid togetherâ you never could emulate the feeling with heavy blankets and pillows, as much as you tried. Putting yourself back into that memory, you wrapped your arms around yourself, willing warmth into your body.Â
But you didnât feel any warmth. All you felt was cold, cold down to your bones. They felt brittle, like ice, splintering into shards as you were thrown on the floor again in a different room. Pain bloomed in your arm as it cracked at an awkward angle. Broken.Â
Your ears rang again as your mouth opened into a scream, tears of pure anguish squeezing from your eyes. But you didnât hear a thing besides the rush of blood dampening your sensesâ and the sickening crunch of your broken bones.Â
âWhat have you done to it, Lady Deathwhisper? It looks broken.âÂ
âItâs human bones are so brittle, it was merely a slip of the hand. I cannot help that their living constitution is so weak.âÂ
âHis grace will not be pleased if it is broken beyond repair.âÂ
âWorry not, Lady Alys. Most things can be mendedâ and if not, it can always be raised.âÂ
âPhysical defects arenât the only issue. What of its mind?â
You feel an acute sensation over your skull, reaching into the depths of your cranium. Its cold, but not stingingâ like a soft caress upon your brain as your mind is rifled through like a tome. You can feel your memories being perused, all of the most intimate moments of your life flashing in your head like playwrightâs prose. The physicality of your mind being invaded wasnât painful, but the act of your memories being ripped from you was damning. Tears fell down your face on their own, your mouth opened into a silent scream.
âShe is the oneâ I saw it. You are lucky that you did not break her mind completely, Lady Deathwhisper.âÂ
âAs are you. You do not have a deft hand when it comes to memory perusal, Lady Alys. I am surprised that it still has a brain in its skull.âÂ
âShut up and bring her to him. He will be pleased she is still alive. Barely.âÂ
You felt yourself being moved again, still reeling from the invasion of your mind. You tried to put yourself back into the safe haven of memories, but they were⌠locked. Locked behind an iron door with no keyhole. They were lost to you.Â
What were you trying to remember?Â
Flashes of white hair and violet eyes flitted behind your eyelids, soft caresses and kisses, heavy breathing and love filled promises, the sensation of skin to skinâŚÂ
Your eyes opened, vision bleary. A helmed woman followed behind you, wings outstretched. You could see the glint of green eyes under her helm. Valâkyr. The woman behind you was a Valâkyr, a spirit guide who defected to the side of the Scourge. They could move between the realm of living and dead as simply as taking a breath.Â
âThe little human is awake,â she mused. âYour mind isnât broken after all? I do see a glint of intelligence behind those eyes. Keep them on me, you shanât wish to look upon Lady Deathwhisper.âÂ
You didnât want to speak, words caught in your throat like food stuck in your craw. A valâkyr was basically an angel of death and talking to one must mean you are dead.Â
You wish you were.Â
The chains scraped against the floor, which was no longer stone like before, but rather, hardened ice. You were ascending upward, it seemed. The architecture of the building was nothing like youâd ever seenâ dark metal was plated upon the walls, inscribed with glowing runes. The runes looked⌠familiar to you, somehow. But the memory that contained them was locked away, or mayhaps stolen by the Valâkyr, Alys.Â
The temperature was cold, you were being lofted upon ice, of course, but you didnât wholly feel it. You were partially numb, heat radiating from your broken arm. You knew you should be feeling painâ but you were just⌠numb.Â
Your escorts stopped in front of two large doors, inscribed with the same glowing runes. Against Alysâ advice, you glanced at âLady Deathwhisperâ. She was skeletal, floating upon the ground with no legs to speak of. Her robes were purple fabric, molded around an incorporeal body. She spoke in a language you didnât understand, the scratchy voice of hers coming out of a bone skull, but the mouth wasnât moving, maw open as the words came out.Â
You should have listened to Alys.Â
The door opened with a rumble, opened by ancient magic, likely imbued by the runes, as they flickered and flitted above your head as it opened. The room beyond was open and bereft of almost anything, except for a throne. A throne forged of ice and swords.Â
Someone was sitting upon it in a lazed position, one plated gloved finger tapping on the arm of the throne.
âWeâve brought her, your grace,â Lady Deathwhisper growled, shoving you forward. You skidded across the floor, which felt slick like grazing atop an ice-capped lake. âAlys confirmed it is her.â
The clinking of armor caught your attention, the sound of metal grazing against ice. It was irritating and made you grind your teeth. As whoever was on the throne got closer, the force was oppressive. Whimpers and tiny cries were ripped from you as they walked towards you, the aura exuding from them causing you to fall flat to the ground, feeling as if someone was sitting atop of your chest and not letting up.
The steel plated boot was in front of you now and your hair was grabbed rather harshly, pulling you up.Â
Donât look, donât look. You cannot look.
âLook. At. Me.â the voice growled. It was quiet but commanding at the same time, rattling in your bones and making a home amongst the marrow. It felt familiar⌠soâŚÂ
You lifted your bloodshot eyes, not out of your own volition, but from the authority of the voice.
âHello, little dove.â he mused.
It was him. It was⌠it⌠Aemond. You knew him so well, even with ten years gone. His chiseled jawline and chin and the dimple of the tip of his noseâŚÂ
But his eye was missing, a jagged scar bisecting it. In its place was a sapphire. The sapphire from your ring, grown into something to make home in the socket.
You felt everything and nothing all at once, your stomach flipped and flopped like a fish hoisted from the sea, sputtering for air. You couldnât breathe, you couldnâtâ
Your best friend, your lover, the one you vowed to never forget, to never forsake.
Aemond Targaryen.Â
Aemond Targaryen was the Lich King. A defiler, a mass murderer, an unholy being in his own right.
âNow you wonât be able to leave again, will you?â Aemond murmured, his violet eye roving you. It was glowing slightlyâ his skin was a pale gray pallor, cheeks sunken slightly. He was undead.
Your eyes rolled back in your head, vision going black.
#aemond fic#aemond fanfiction#aemond targaryen#hotd aemond#aemond x fem!reader#aemond#aemond one eye#hotd fic#aemond fanfic#aemond smut#dark aemond smut#dark aemond angst#my writing#even in undeath#hotd au
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Here we go again!
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
This is the second part of my "Here we go again"-series. This was written quite a while ago, so bear with me. Also, this is a college au and contains adult themes. 18++
Thank you for reading <3
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âKeep telling yourself that honeyâ she whispered in my ear, breathing down my neck. I whimper, struggling with my breath. God, she was so hot. Her hands reached behind my back, unclipping my bra, and throwing it at the floor. My head turns to kiss her, and Iâm met with a hand grabbing my throat and pushing my head against the wall.
âWhat did I say about trying to one-up me? You know I get angry when you do thatâ she whispers, her voice lowering several octaves. Her eyes are threatening, and she moves her body closer, pushing my entire back against the wall.
âAre you afraid Iâm simply better than you?â. I put on a smug grin, feeling her anger radiating from the body. She roughly grabs one of my tits, kneading it. Hard. Fuck, it hurts, but feels so pleasurable at the same time. I moan and automatically grab her arm, momentarily staring at her tattoo as I pant. I need her to kiss me. I need her inside of me, in every single way.
âYou really think youâre better than me? We`ll see about thatâ. Sheâs wearing a sly smirk as her fingers trace up my thigh, and slowly strokes one of them over my clothed folds. I let out a whimper, surprising myself with the sound before pressing my lips together to prevent more. I close my eyes, feeling her hot, wet mouth kissing my collarbone, going lower and lower. She leaves kisses all over my upper body, paying extra attention to both my tits. First the left, then the right. My mouth is agape, but no words come out. Iâm panting, hot and already a bit sweaty.
âOh honey, youâre struggling so much right now. I know you think you know what youâre doing but seeing you torturing yourself like that makes this so much more funâ. She lowers her hands to my hot core, feeling the wet fabric.
âThis much, and almost no sound? As impressed as I am, that wouldnât last longâ she chuckles as she slowly moves the fabric and begins rubbing my clit. Sheâs watching me intensely, waiting for me to break. Waiting for me to give in to her.
âStop looking at me like thatâ I say, her intense eyes filled with lust.
âLike what?â
âLike youâre going to hurt meâ.
âOh baby, I can make this quick, or I can make it so much worseâ. Her smirk stays plastered on her face, not coming off. She suddenly shoves two fingers in me, using her thumb to apply friction to my clit. The stimulation took me off guard, and I moan. Iâm a loud mess, feeling her fingers curling inside me, reaching that sweet spot. I can see her smiling, clearly satisfied with herself. Sheâs winning, fuck. And it feels so good I couldnât care less about trying to resist anymore. In this moment I'll let her consume me, every single cell in my body would belong to her. A knot start building in my abdomen, and I canât help but squeezing her shoulders, and trying to get her closer. She kisses me with heavy, messy kisses. Saliva coating our lips.
âPlease Ellie, Iâm almost thereâ I plead in between shaky breaths.
âAm I better? Tell me I`m better and I'll let you comeâ she demands, going faster with her hand, kneading my tit with the other.
âYes! I promise you are, just please finish me off!â. She sucks my neck, finding my sweet spot. I go over the edge and my juices coat her fingers. I'm struggling to breath, as Iâm holding on to one of her arms to keep me balanced and standing. She looks me deeply in the eyes as she puts her fingers in her mouth, licking them clean.
As I slowly lower myself to the bathroom floor, she finds a towel and coats it with hot water. She throws it in my lap, putting on her button-down shirt, and starting to leave. Iâm still exhausted but manage to form a few words.
âThis is the last time we're doing this,â I firmly say. Or as firmly as I can in my state.
âKeep saying itâ she jokingly says as she opens the door.
âI hate youâ.
âI hate you more, Honeyâ.
#the last of us#tlou#the last of us 2#the last of us part 2#ellie williams#ellie williams x reader#ellie tlou#ellie the last of us#ellie x reader#ellie x fem reader#tlou ellie#tlou2#ellie williams x y/n#tlou part 2#ellie williams smut#chris until dawn#ellie smut#ellie williams x female reader
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okay, so. the jail au.
everybody knows that iâm a good girl, officer!
of course, me and @seattlesellie were rambling abt this for like an hour straight and i just had to share some of the little thoughts we came up with because it makes my brain go brrrr ok !!
going back to my roots with girly fem reader !! reader is a lil strap tease, ellie is a loser, and abby is big and scary đ
⥠so you find yourself in jail. the reason behind your imprisonment is up to u ok idk !!!
⥠ellie being the corrupt officer who sneaks you in contraband bc poor girly you canât seem to last without your âstupid MAC liplinerâ or rose quartz or whatever it is you have ellie sneaking in.
⥠meeting her in the storage closet for your usual rendezvous, giggling and tugging at her uniform as she swats your hands away, huffing.
⥠âseriously? do you know how hard it is to sneak this shit in? you better hide that good, âcus if you get caught mânot saving your ass from Abby.â
⥠abby, of course is the no nonsense prison warden.
⥠the thing about ellie, is she hardly lays down the law. sheâs a fucking loser, infact the only reason she lets you get away with so much and got herself caught up in this whole contraband situation is because she quite literally couldnât resist a pretty girl batting her lashes up at her and caved. itâs pathetic really, but you think she looks super cute under the dim lights of the storage closet, hoping the lack of lighting is enough to hide the blush across her freckled cheeks (itâs not.)
⥠with ellie being a loser, comes ellie being a perv. âgonna have to hide that real good, okay? canât get caught.â sheâs muttering, stuffing the things youâd requested from her down your bra, really getting in there to make sure itâs hidden, of course.
⥠meanwhile, you canât seem to keep your hands off her â absolutely adoring the thrill of your dirty little secret, feeling special knowing she doesnât do this for anyone else. she clears her throat when you kiss her on the cheek and grab at her handcuffs. âooh, can you use these on me?â you flutter making her tsk, flustered and shooing you away despite the burning in her cunt. âthoseâthose are for making arrests okay, shitâ yâso handsy.â
⥠maybe if sheâs feeling brave enough one day sheâll put you on your knees as payback and hurriedly use your face to get off. maybe. she daydreams about that a lot.
⥠anyway, sheâs forever complaining about your ridiculous requests for her to sneak inâ and then fulfilling your request within the next few days.
⥠âellie, i need buttons.â she sighs. âwhy.â âiâm making a plushie.â the next day she has buttons in her hand.
⥠again, sheâd hate for you to get caught â so sheâs stuffing the plastic bag of buttons down your prison pants into your underwear before retying the string on your pants and patting over your pussy where she stuffed the bag. âkeep that safe. got it? âtold you, you donât wanna be on the other end of abby.â
⥠but oh, you did.
⥠how you adored seeing how far you could push it with the big blonde buff prison warden. it started off as you relentlessly asking her dumb flirty questions until she was grabbing you by the cheeks, towering over you and telling you to âget back to your cell.â
⥠but you were unstoppable, always making sure to give her a show in the shower room when sheâd be in there on her watch shift. you were starting to think she was trading shifts just to be in there when you were. sheâd always stand by the sinks with her arms crossed and eyes narrowed, walkie-talkie on her hip only accenting her toned body. youâd be across from her, shower cubicle door open, hands sliding up and down your body â seeing how long sheâd let you slide your hand between your legs and rub your clit until sheâd tell you to âcut it out, youâre wasting hot water.â though, you could see the way she shifted her thighs, and her cheeks would go the cutest shade of dusty pink.
⥠abby doing your cell checks was always scary, always just narrowly missing your hiding spots where youâd shove all the things ellie brought you. âyou hiding anything in here maâam?â sheâd eye you as you shake your head innocently, watching her pull your blankets up and shake them. âwhy do i not believe you? little minx like you, always up to something.â
⥠you nearly let a smirk slip, nearly â but instead widen your eyes until they were doe like, looking up at her as she closes in on you, trying to figure you out. âme? no, iâm a good girl. iâd never do that, abby.â
⥠youâd continue to stare up at her as she takes a long look, raking her eyes down your body before back up to your gaze. âthats officer anderson to you.â before departing, never quite giving you what you want.
⥠until, she keeps catching you with officer williams. and it makes her jealous. because obviously, youâre her little prison slut. only hers.
⥠you stand by ellie in the cafeteria for a little too long, talking to eachother under your breath and sparing side glances. abby watches, before deciding to make an example out of you and grabbing you by the scruff of the neck and dragging you back to your cell where youâre out of everyoneâs vision, growling something about âstop fraternising with the officers.â
⥠she nudges you back into your cell and is in disbelief at you holding back a mischievous smile when you turn around to face her where she stands in the doorway. âyouâre an officerâŚ?â you challenge, batting your lashes. she eyes you hungrily, breathing heavily for a moment before lowly muttering an âother officers.â leaving you with a victorious smile when she storms off.
⥠and then one day she catches you, really catches you. youâre waiting for ellie in the storage closet for an exchange of goods, and when the door opens and closes, you turn around with a smile â only to come face to face with abby. poor ellie was off on prison bus duty, assigned conveniently by none other than officer anderson.
⥠âwhatâs going on in here, hm? what have you been up to?â her finger stroking the walkie talkie on her leg. your smile fades, caught and your brows furrow â blinking up at her waiting for some kind of punishment. âa little birdie told me you had a thing for officers sneaking in things they shouldnât, that true?â she knocks your chin up when you look down, attempting to evade her dark gaze.
⥠âi donât know what youâreââ âyou know, everyone breaks the rules sometimes. even a warden like me.â she steps closer, backing you against the wall making you gasp lightly as something light falls off the shelf behind you. she grabs your wrist, bringing your fingers to her crotch, a hard plastic cock bulged beneath her pants. you whimper, because it feels huge. âyeah, see. i can be sneaky too. maybe you can continue keeping that slutty mouth closed, and iâll keep my mouth shut about your little meet ups with officer williams. we got a deal?â she pushes into you more, a shelf digging into your back and covered cock pushing up against your crotch making you let out a shaky breath.
⥠âi can â i can keep a secret.â âyeah? huh. maybe i misjudged you. maybe you are a good girl.â
⥠and when you show up all weak legged, bruised and hot faced to meet with ellie the next day for your rescheduled pick up â she has a million questions, brows frowning in not so subtle jealousy and pouting.
⥠âso what, i bring you your shit for months and you just let the first warden who comes in here fuck? that shit is so unfair.â she complains, barely trying to shrug you off when you run your hands up her toned arms and rest them on her shoulders.
⥠âlemme make it up to you, show you how grateful i am, els.â she letâs you kiss her for a minute, melting a little at the way you suck on her bottom lip before pulling away and fixing her uniform after your grabby hands had skewed it. âjustâ take your shit and get lost. iâll see you in the cafeteria.â
⥠but she canât stay mad at your cute little face. especially when youâre sooo sweet to her, and let her take her anger out on you in the next closet meet up with her fingers.
#jail au#prison au#ellabs x reader#ellie x reader x abby#abby anderson x reader#ellie williams x reader
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