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underthetree845 · 1 month

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chuuya taking his hat off to hide when he kisses his partner 🤭

Hello saturn lovely! Sorry this took me so long to finish TwT I love the prompt, but as you know writer's block hit me kinda hard the second semester of school so over the summer I've been trying to get back into the swing of posting once in a while!

Hope you enjoy <3 thank you for the request! _

Kiss Me Hard Before You Go

Nakahara Chuuya/Reader (oneshot request)

cws: fem! reader, established relationship, bungou stray dogs s5 spoilers, meursault arc spoilers, fluff, hurt/comfort kinda? there was a little hurt, reuniting, airport reunion, ada dazai, reader cries about 2.5k words summary: Chuuya disappeared on a business trip for three whole days with no explanation- and no one would tell you why. Now he's returned to japan and back in your arms. a/n: This is my last fic for the summer before school starts aaa qwq I'm glad I was able to finish it before the semester starts though! *sigh* am I really incapable of writing something like this without accidentally creating so much plot? Anyways, hope you enjoy! <3 divider credit: (x) (x) ‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹ Chuuya had never considered himself to be a very possessive man; or a possessive boyfriend, for that matter. Protective, sure, but how could anyone expect him not to be? He understood, probably better than most, the risks that came with even so much as associating with a person in his position. It made Chuuya’s stomach churn unpleasantly to even imagine putting you in any sort of danger, so he used his position (along with the power and assets that came with it) to take certain preventative measures. The penthouse you shared was equipped with state of the art security, a technological system truly fit for an executive of the Port Mafia. Additionally, in case you ever needed to travel long distances without him, Chuuya often kept a trusted chauffeur on call. This individual also happened to be a professionally trained underground bodyguard of his personal selection. Even so, Chuuya knew you had a good head on your shoulders. He trusted that you would try to keep yourself out of trouble, or call for him at the first sign of it. It didn’t matter if he was on the road, halfway through a private meeting, or in the middle of pummeling down an enemy organization. Chuuya had always been a man with his priorities set straight. Not even Mori’s notifications were set to come through on silent mode. Coming home to you at the end of the day, allowing you to soothe away the crease between his brows, your voice uttering sweet nothings against the shell of his ear. You had become his lifeline, irreversibly carved your name into every cell of his body. He’d do anything to erase your pain, and it was making his heart break more than anything to know that he was the cause of the salty tears now streaming over your lash line. Chuuya did his best to hold back an ‘oof’ when you threw your frame into his own, burying your sobs in the crook of his neck. He was immediately overwhelmed with the scent of your perfume, the familiar feeling of your body against his own, the softness of the sweater you wore, and the glimmer that never seemed to escape your eyes. The red colored contacts from earlier had given Chuuya one hell of a headache, which only added to the pressure from taking off and being stuck in one of the mafia’s smallest private jets with the most insufferable jackass he’d ever met and some hair dye obsessed casino manager passed out on one of the couches. Chuuya’s gloved fingers almost trembled as they gripped the fabric of your shirt. He lifted a hand to cradle the back of your head while the other remained planted firmly on your lower back.

Sakaguchi Ango, if Chuuya remembered correctly, stood a few yards away. He simply observed the situation from afar, as if he dared not insert himself into the scene. A government agent whom Dazai used to maintain his connection with the outside world. Ango stood with one hand folded neatly over the other behind his back, the faint ghost of a smile residing behind his glasses as he watched Dazai reunite with his fellow agency members. The brunette walked on a crutch, but the uncharacteristically tired look in his eyes brightened ever so slightly when he was swarmed by his coworkers. Chuuya continued to hold you close, patiently waiting for your sobs to die down enough for you to be able to speak coherently. He loosened his grip slightly, removing one of his leather gloves behind your back and bringing that same hand up to cup your face. A whisper of your name left his lips, and your teary eyes finally refocused to meet the warmth of his own. “Chuuya… how could you just leave?” your voice cracked; he could see the hurt in your eyes. Guilt crept into his chest, eyebrows knitting together as you subconsciously leaned into his palm. This was exactly the sort of thing Chuuya promised himself he’d never do. You were the absolute number one priority in his life. There was no doubt in his mind; he didn’t want there to be any doubt in yours either. “I know, Doll, ‘m sorry, it was never my intention…” he muttered, allowing you to rest your hands on his chest. “I know that’s a shit excuse, but I’ll make it up to you, I swear.” A beat of silence passed, the indistinct chatter of the agency fell on deaf ears as you zoned in on the man in front of you. His breath, the way his eyes searched your expression, how you could once again feel the warmth of his skin against your own. “You’re not hurt, are you?” your voice was pricked with concern, hands gentle as you cupped his jaw and turned his head from side to side. Chuuya let out a breath, fondness flickering in his irises at your concern. “Barely a scratch,” he murmured, and you seemed to accept his answer. “Chuuya,” you started, and his gaze locked onto yours. He voiced your name in response. “I need you to promise me something, please?” “Anything.”

You bit your lip. Your mind told you it was a selfish request. You understood, probably better than most, how unpredictable your boyfriend’s line of work could be. But you had accepted it as an adequate price to pay for his love when the two of you started seeing each other, even more so when you moved in together. He was yours, you believed it with every fiber of your being. Chuuya had told enough stories of his old work partner for you to gather that the two had never exactly been the chummiest of pals. So the fact that they cooperated for this mission must’ve meant that it couldn’t have been a minor dilemma. You understood why Chuuya made the decision he did, and that it was probably just as difficult on him. Albeit, that didn’t make your feelings any less real. Your heart reminded you of the unconditional love and comfort that Chuuya always offered you. You knew he’d never intentionally hurt your feelings, especially not without talking it out and making up for it in some way afterward. “Doll…?” he barely breathed, giving you all the space you needed to voice what was on your mind. You took a deep breath. “Don’t… please don’t scare me like that again,” your voice wavered as you spoke, “Everything on the news is scary. And every time I watch it all I can think about is the fact that you’re out there.” You took a moment to glance at the group of Armed Detective Agency members on the airport runway to your left. One of the so-called terrorists you heard about on the news stood amongst the group about ten feet away from where you watched. The world was confusing, and scary, but there was a certain security in your heart that told you as long as you had Chuuya by your side, everything would be okay. “First you’re leaving before sunrise and staying out late on special missions, and I get it, I really do…” you felt a lump beginning to form in your throat, threatening to make you choke over your words, “but then you just leave on a business trip to Europe without so much as a ‘goodbye, I’ll be home soon’? And I have to find out from a call from your boss? I didn’t- I still don’t understand what’s happening. Do you know how scared I was? That I might not ever see you again?” Chuuya’s thumb swiped away the teardrop that ran down your cheek, his eyes trailing over your expression. “You’re right, it’s not fair… I don’t think I could ever apologize enough,” he began, his hold on you tightening slightly, “All that I can ask is for you to understand. I can explain everything to you when we get home. And I promise, I’ll do my best to not leave you in the dark so suddenly. It was an urgent mission, but it must have been scary. You’ll never have to feel like that again, not if I can help it.” Chuuya’s face softened, the corners of your lips curving up slightly at his sincerity as he cupped your cheek. “Shit… you deserve so much better.” You stood there for a moment, just breathing. Soaking in each other’s presence as your heartbeat gradually fell back to its usual pace.

“My my, Slug, is this the lovely lady you were so eager to get back to?” a voice chimed from your left, and you turned your head to face the man at the same time Chuuya snapped his head in that direction. Your boyfriend clicked his teeth, pressing your body closer to his own. “What’s it to you, huh, Dazai?” Chuuya was clearly trying to suppress his irritation. He was doing especially well, considering the fact that he had been holed up next to Dazai on an airplane for the past fourteen hours. “I’m just trying to acquaint myself,” the man went on, a grin playing on his lips despite Chuuya’s glare, “As a responsible owner, I should at least make sure my dog is in good hands.” You tilted your head slightly, and Chuuya sucked in a breath. “You’re treading on some pretty thin ice, Mackerel,” he growled through gritted teeth, “Watch what you say around my girl.” The taller man only took a step forward, his eyes glittering in amusement, a sharp contrast to the hollowed out, almost dead look he carried earlier. “Oh? Holding back your more vulgar language around the lady?” Dazai hummed with mild intrigue, “Perhaps my dog is being well taken care of.” You simply stood and watched with intrigue, the interaction clearly more complex than distinguishable at first glance. Despite their constant verbal jabs and ostentatious insults toward each other, there was a sense of familiarity between the two that was almost palpable to you. They bounced off each other, knowing exactly which buttons to press and which ones to avoid. It was probably a welcome change of tone in contrast to what they had just been through. Your gaze flickered between the two once more, and you couldn’t help but notice how the tension in Chuuya’s shoulders had been released. “Dazai-san?” your voice was level, and both of the men fell silent to give you their attention. You looked at your beloved, then to his ex-partner, then Chuuya, then Dazai again. Mirth swam in your eyes. “I want to thank you for making sure Chuuya was able to return home safely today. Truly, I cannot thank you enough.” You gave a slight bow of your head, and Chuuya looked like he wanted to protest. For once, Dazai didn’t immediately produce a response; he fell silent at your sentiment. This time, a gentler smile curved onto his lips. “Please spare me, Miss,” Dazai began, “Truth be told, I don’t believe I could have made it out without Chuuya’s help either.” The redhead raised his eyebrows. "I'm passing him into your capable hands now. I trust you’ll take good care of him?” Dazai seemed satisfied with the chuckle that slipped from your throat. “You have nothing to worry about,” you replied, “And I trust that your detective agency will treat you well?” “They always have.” Chuuya let out a breath, sharing a look with his partner before turning to face a black passenger vehicle that had pulled up a short distance away. Tinted windows that prevented anyone outside from peeking in; glass, body, and tires that were all bulletproof. It was one of the mafia’s.

“C’mon Dollface, we should get going. Don’t wanna be here when the press shows up, and the boss is probably dying for me to give him a call,” Chuuya nodded his head in the direction of the car; you brought your hand up to give a small wave to Dazai and the handful of agency members further away who glanced in your direction. You let out a sigh you didn’t know you were holding in, allowing your head to rest on Chuuya’s shoulder as you made your way to the car. You felt like you could finally breathe properly again. The door unlocked with a quiet click. Chuuya swung open the door of the vehicle with his non gloved hand and stepped aside to allow you to enter first. “...Chuu?” you started quietly, taking a step closer to where he stood. “Hm?” he raised an eyebrow. You placed your hands loosely on the back of his neck, fingers intertwined; Chuuya responded by resting his hands on your hips, listening intently. You could have held more of a grudge. He disappeared overnight without a word, and no one would tell you why. You’d been on edge for three days straight. Hardly even sleeping through the night as you kept up with the news almost obsessively, hoping to catch a glimpse of him. To be able to hold Chuuya close again so easily felt almost surreal. A soft smile creeped into your expression, the corners of your eyes crinkling as you tilted your head to the side. Chuuya’s breath stilled. “I’m just…” you paused for a moment, your voice pouring with sincerity, “I’m really glad you’re back, and that you’re safe.” Chuuya paused for another moment, studying you carefully as an equally tender look came to his face. He glanced to the side for a moment, and let out a disgruntled huff upon discovering that Dazai’s head was still tilted in your direction; he kept a curious eye on the situation from several meters away. Your boyfriend pursed his lips for a moment before snaking one of his hands further around your waist. He plucked his pork pie hat off the crown of his head, and before you had the chance to realize what was going on, you were already being gracefully tilted backwards, forcing your hands to grip onto the lapel of Chuuya’s jacket for support. Everything seemed to still the moment he slotted his lips into yours, holding his hat up to act as a shield from certain prying eyes. You didn’t hesitate to pull him in closer, your lashes fluttering shut as you savored what you felt like you had been missing for an eternity. Chuuya’s eyes were shut in concentration, his heart thrumming with delight at the familiar sensation of your lips molded against his own. Chuuya didn’t pull away until you were both light-headed from the lack of air. Cheeks flooded with warmth, looking at each other as if you were the only two people in the entire world. “I missed you so fucking much, you know that?” Chuuya’s voice was low as he brushed his thumb over your cheek. The two of you stood straight, lingering in each other’s embrace for a moment longer. Chuuya lightly tossed his hat inside the car and once more gestured with his arm out for you to enter first. The satisfied smile on his lips morphed into one of slight perplexion when you didn’t show a reaction, raising your fingertips to brush over your lips. “Chuuya?” you questioned, and his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He replied with your name, all the more puzzled when you let out an incredulous chuckle. “Since when are your teeth so sharp?”

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹ a/n: Thank you so much for reading! Have a day/night/morning/evening as lovely as yourself. tagging: @judasgot-it (I noticed that I wrote down that I agreed to tag you for chuuya fics but I can't seem to remember why?? TwT please tell me if this is incorrect! Thank you <3)

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amarmoria · 2 months

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Nepenthe

꩜.ᐟ Qimir x Padawan! Reader

Why would your master want a padawan like you when he has his acolyte?

Notes: I've seen fics abt padawan reader and none can quench my thirst eugh😫pls note i have nooo idea what goes on in the star wars universe please don't come for me😣

"Hand me that one, fast" He gestured to the purple fruit just beside you, not daring to glance at you. "Yes, sir"

You curiously peeked over your master as you handed the fruit, what was so important it had him rushing like this?

"It's for Mae," he says, the squelching fruit making you frown, you forget he reads minds as easily as breathing. Your frown deepens as you remember. Mae. His acolyte, he took you in a few months before Mae came, that first few months felt like heaven, it was just you and him, in this unknown planet, training, practicing.

Yet, after Mae came, it almost felt like you were some kind of servant for the both of them, he trained with her day and night, leaving you to fend for yourself, he told you it's because you've already been trained by him, that you don't need to anymore, you didn't mind, you got along with Mae... on your perspective that is.

Mae was a fast learner, you were proud of her, now you have someone to share your training with, converse like a normal person, but later you realized that him and her were two sides of the same coin, quiet, mute, they don't like conversations, although you made an effort to be friends with Mae, than you ever did with your master since she was the lesser evil, you're quite proud of yourself when your conversations with her turned from smalls nods and no's to simple phrases.

You didn't care that your master had two Padawans under his belt, that is until he taught her some things he never even told you about, every now and then he would drop hints about what he would teach you next, to prepare you, but this one was unknown to you, you thought, maybe, maybe he forgot to tell you since he was so engrossed in trying to make Mae catch up to you, but Mae didn't just catch up to you, she had already passed way above you, while your stuck on the pedestal she was weeks ago.

"Something on your mind, little bee?" That nickname, he never once gave an explanation on why he calls you that. "No, uh, nothing.. master"

You focus on his muscles grinding the stone bowl.

"I don't think that's nothing"

"I'm fine, really." You bite the inside of your cheeks. "Hm"

You blink, fiddling with the hem of your robes, you let a few seconds pass before speaking up.

"Why.. why does Mae need it?" He halted his movements, and right then and there you almost regretted asking, almost. "She's having nightmares"

He resumed his cooking, although his brief answer didn't provide you with anything, so what? You were having nightmares once too, and he told you to suck it up.

And as if he read your mind, which he did. "I don't want it to hinder her performance, we don't want any distractions during this time of her training."

What about my training? You wanted to yell at him, what about me? Why can't you make me one of your anti-nightmare potions too?

You could only clench your fists, making sure he doesn't hear some of your thoughts, which is hard considering he didn't teach you to, only Mae, along with healing your body by using the force, all her, and your left in the dust.

Your master said using negative emotions is the best fuel for people like them. Them. He told you, him and Mae obvi, you're nowhere near the equation, like an addition symbol in a multiplication question, makes no sense right? Because you make no sense being there when he clearly prioritizes Mae.

"—are you still listening?"

"I, huh," your eyes flutter up to him, frowning when he says nothing but look at you. A few seconds pass with only the both of you staring each other down, I mean, him staring you down with his creepy mask, he suddenly lets go of the pestle, the tool colliding with the mortar loudly.

He was now towering over you, and you realize then how big he was compared to you, it's like a dwarf next to a willow tree. (Guys no matter how big you think you are, Qimir is always bigger✋)

"I can't hear you, but I feel you" oh fuck, you forgot about that. "What is this plaguing your mind?"

Before you could answer, Mae comes running.

"You're back" He focuses on her, you let out a deep breath, for once your relieved Mae came in just a nick of time. "The ship's ready, master"

"Good, let's go" he grabs his robe from behind you. "Finish the potion before we come back"

"Whe, where are you guys going?"

"Nothing of importance, now go." He gestures to the stone bowl, his menacing helmet buzzing in your ears. "Yes, master.."

"Good girl." you couldn't hear his last few mumbles, only registering everything when they left the cave, leaving you alone.

You decided that you're gonna make an anti-nightmare potion for yourself too, because why does only Mae get it when you can make one in case you get nightmares?

And the best place to buy ingredients was with the best apothecary in town.

"Qimir?" You knock on the door. "I need to buy things for him, are you there?"

No answer.

"Hellooo?"

You pouted and turned around, now everyone's busy when you're not, you wanted to wait for a few more seconds but people might think you're crazy for trying to buy from an abandoned pharmacy, your master told you Qimir was there anytime you needed something to use for missions, but now that you don't go to missions, you love to annoy the clumsy pharmacy owner.

"Hey, wait!"

You tried to stop the smile creeping to your face when you hear the door bust open.

"I'm here!" He yelled, you turned around and waved, a big smile covering your face. "What took you so long?"

"What do you mean?" He playfully shrugged. "Been here since forever"

You felt more comfortable with him, you don't have to have to tiptoe around him unlike with the other, you liked to tease him about not taking a bath and for looking like a ragged hobo.

"What are you doing here though?" His eyebrows furrowed as you skip to him, you gave him a warm smile once again before making your way inside. "I need some things for him."

He frowned.

"Things? He didn't tell me he needed anything when they passed here."

"Well he told me, so go fetch it for me, servant" you chuckle and hit him on the bicep, he fakes a cry before hesitating to open the shelves.

"Here's the list of his majesty needs"

"His majesty?" He laughs, you just love making him laugh, maybe it's just you, or maybe you're just alone, but if there's anyone in the world you're going to survive an apocalypse with, it's Qimir.

"Uh huh, he keeps barking orders, finish this, finish that before we get home nyeh nyeh nyeh"

He chuckles once again. "Are you sure about telling me that? I might just snitch and get a promotion."

You feign an insulted look. "You don't dare"

"Oh but I do"

You both sat there laughing, forgetting about what you were here for. You clutch your tummy and struggle to inhale air.

"I can't— stop—" you burst out laughing once again, your face heating up, the tears in your eyes now brimming full.

"No no don't die on me" He jokes, you can see him staring, you wanted to look at him like that, shameless, but you can't stand looking at him for more than 3 seconds without blushing.

"Really?" He mumbles, but you heard him, clear as day. "What?"

"I, I mean, really h-huh? You can't stop laughing?" He waved both his hands in the air.

"You weirdo"

"Oh so now I'm the weirdo?"

"Uh huh"

"Since when?!"

"Since we met"

"Says the person who keeps barging in my shop"

"You like it though right?" You look up at him expectantly. "Like w-what?"

You gesture with your hands. "This?"

"This what?"

"You're always alone here, you must be grateful that I always visit."

"Yeah, always"

"What does that mean!" You put your hands on your waist. "It means you're always here, so you're like an everyday occurance by now"

You roll your eyes as he finishes up the list.

"Here's the last one—" you frown as he pauses. "What?"

"Isn't this," he picks up the list again. "It's for.."

You gulp, your fingers fumble with the wooden seat.

"N-no, no, it's not" you avert your eyes from him, the floor looking a little more interesting today.

"It's for nightmares isn't it?"

"I don't know, he only gave the list, nothing else."

"It is for nightmares, why do you need these?"

"I don't know, it's not for me." You clench your fists. "If it was for him he'd tell me himself"

Your eyes try to find something, anything, to tell him.

"I think it's for Mae okay? Maybe, maybe she's having nightmares and, and maybe he doesn't want it to distract her.."

"But I al—" he pauses, his jaw flexing. "I already gave him these."

His eyes narrow on you, like a deer in the headlights you could only look away.

"Tell me?" His soft voice lures you to him. "Are you having them?"

"No.." you sigh, do you tell him you're making the potion out of spite for your master? For making one for Mae and not for you, ugh it all sounds childish now, before you left you had a plan, and now you look like a child caught.

"Just—" you let out a deep breath. "Give it, and I'll be on my way"

He stares at you for a moment, before placing everything in a small pouch. You thanked him and left the credits on the table before hurriedly leaving, you could still feel his stare at the back of your head.

#qimir x padawan! reader #qimir x reader #the stranger x reader #the stranger #acolyte x reader #the acolyte #manny jacinto x reader #manny x reader #manny jacinto

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devilfic · 1 year

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thinking about lyla hiring you as miguel's in-person assistant because as good as she is, she can't stop miguel from throwing chairs across the room. she introduces you to miguel on your first day and he immediately tries to fire you, insistent he doesn't need someone to "babysit" him, let alone someone with half the muscle mass and twice the mortality. except lyla's the one paying you, and even if it's miguel's money, lyla has made sure he can't stop the checks from clearing. so you're here to stay.

he does his best to ignore you at first and for the most part, you rarely get in his way. he goes about his duties and you shadow him, only ever speaking when spoken to if ever at all. but then one day, he's had a particularly difficult time with an anomaly and suddenly his fangs are splitting his lip, his claws are punching holes into his desk, he's snarling and the rage is taking over him again.

he grabs the thing and flings it across the room-

and you catch it. you set it down, calmly, safely, and it's so shocking to miguel because he's never seen you exert more force than needed to open a door, and you caught it.

miguel's anger melts away just like that. he watches you exhale, watches you drag the heavy thing back over to him where he stands dumbfounded and feeling. silly. he didn't think- "instead of throwing things, you can take your anger out on me."

miguel goes blank. he sounds so pathetic when he fumbles for a "w-what?"

you smile, the first time he's ever seen you do so, "I'm a good partner."

this had to be a. prank, right? lyla had put you up to this? he knows it's been a while, and she'd made the joke plenty of times before, but. were you. really? miguel clears his throat, ready to rebuff you, but he thinks about it and...

I mean, it has been a while. "you work for me." he reasons. it's not a refusal, you notice.

"it's okay," you assure him, stepping closer, "this kind of thing's in the job description."

and god. miguel doesn't know, is it actually? had lyla really. done that? he'd muster up the embarrassment if you weren't standing right in front of him and smelling so good and this whole time he'd been convinced that if he even dared to touch you he might break you but you'd caught it without breaking a sweat. what else could you handle? what were you offering to take?

you step even closer and then-

your fists are up. you're crouching and your fists are up. miguel stares.

"come on, then," you taunt, smiling wider, "I've fought bigger."

sparring partner.

now miguel's really embarrassed. he doesn't even have it in him to actually take you up on your completely innocuous, innocent offer. you wanted to spar. you wanted him to take his anger out on you in a fight. you'd sapped the anger right out of him just from this conversation. maybe it'd be better if he took a nap instead. he hadn't had one of those in a while either.

when he continues to just stand there, staring, red hot in the face, you raise an eyebrow and your smile becomes a little... mischievous. "what? did you have something else in mind?"

part two

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara scenarios #miguel o'hara imagines #miguel o'hara headcanons #miguel o'hara fic #miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 #across the spiderverse #marvel #mjwrites #gonna go look at pictures of miguel tied up and fangs out #mo; ungodly hour

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froggiewrites · 1 month

Text

Possession

Pairing: Doflamingo x Reader

NSFW

Summary: Doflamingo wants you, and he has always been good at getting what he wants. Warnings: Smut, Possessiveness, Manipulation, Yandere (i think this counts?) Word Count: 1.8k Notes: This is pretty different in vibes from everything else I've posted here, but Doffy has bewitched me a little bit. I was trying to finish Dressrosa before writing about him but I just had to get this one out. Crossposted from Ao3

Doflamingo did not know exactly when you caught his eye.

It was small, at first, the instinct to seek you out. He didn’t indulge in it. He had far more important things to worry about. But as time went on, as you appeared again and again, he found himself more and more determined to have you.

You were a sweet thing, innocent and uncomplicated, ripe and ready for the taking. It took very little effort to endear himself to you. A few well timed words and well placed smiles and you were falling at his feet. It was adorable, really, the way you fell apart when he came around. He expected the passing fancy to end at that, a short dalliance that would end in you being thrown to the side as his ambitions led him somewhere far greater than here, somewhere you couldn’t and shouldn’t follow.

But he found himself enjoying you more and more. Your wide eyes and gentle smiles, your soft hands and thighs, your plush lips and warm mouth. You may not be an asset to the family, ignorant to his work and his purpose, but you were…useful, in your own way.

The nightmares didn't stop, but it was a little easier to come back to reality with someone beside him, not that he would admit that. And if some days he awoke with his hands primed around your throat, ready to squeeze, well. Nobody had to know. That was the risk you took, you naive little thing, when you followed him home. When you accepted his invitation into his bed, into his arms. If you noticed the bruises when you woke up, you never mentioned them. He doesn’t know if it’s ignorance or pity that keeps your mouth shut. He doesn’t know which is worse.

It turns his stomach to think you would pity him, dare to see him as small enough to deserve anything less than utter devotion, than worship. But the idea of you leaving if you truly knew him, knew better…it’s worse than revolting. It makes every one of his muscles tense, his chest tighten, his teeth clench. Every part of him primed to chase you down, hold you tight, ensure that you would not and cannot leave him.

Once he had a hold of the thought of you leaving, it stayed buried beneath his skin, a constant nagging feeling he couldn’t shake. He was haunted with the image of you sneaking away, catching a ride on a ship somewhere far out of his reach. In the days following, he holds you closer than ever before, grip strong enough to bruise. You cannot move an inch without his permission. As it should be.

He begins his careful construction of your cage soon after.

It begins slowly, with small gifts that earn him that soft smile. Then the next step, as you slowly start losing contact with old friends, start coming to him more and more as the only person in your life there and willing to listen. He keeps you coming back for companionship, for joy, for pleasure, ensuring that you can come to him and only him for such things.

When he takes you, he studies you, carefully plans each action to lead you further and further into this delusion you seem to have. That he loves you. That you’re safe in these arms. That you chose this.

“Doffy!” You cry sweetly when his teeth find your neck, nipping at you gently, finding and latching onto your most sensitive parts. Tomorrow he will pretend the marks are an accident, that the small amount of blood he draws was simply due to an excess of enthusiasm, and not just him taking what he’s owed. Every part of you is his, including the blood in your veins. If he wants it, it is his to have. He savors the taste of iron on his tongue, the taste of your very life, your vital essence.

Doflamingo’s hands are calloused, and you gasp as you feel their roughness against your skin. He holds himself back, ensuring his touches are firm but not cruel, that his pace is steady but not brutal. His hands find your breasts first, pinching and prodding demandingly. He keeps his eyes on your face as his fingers find their place, teasing as he watches you struggle to keep your eyes on his, lashes fluttering. You keen sweetly as he rolls your chest in his hands, and he almost struggles to keep the smirk off of his face. You’re putty beneath him, ready for him to shape in whatever image he pleases.

His hand slips lower, fingers tracing slowly down to where he knows you want him. He carefully plans his steps in this dance, and he can see in your eyes that you’re following his lead without question. You shine with adoration, and when he intertwines his free hand with yours, you light up, a goofy, lovesick smile overtaking your lust for a moment. He grins, a sense of warmth blooming through him. Surely a sense of accomplishment, for continuing the charade successfully. For leading you further and further into your cage without a moment’s hesitation. You’re eating out of his hand, just as you were meant to.

His fingers push past your panties, and he begins by inserting only one, slowly sliding it into your hole as you moan. He keeps his pace slow even as you wiggle your hips in frustration, even as you begin to softly whine. He doesn’t give you what you want until you beg.

“Doflamingo, please, more!” Your voice is tinged with desperation, and he chuckles.

“I need you to be more specific, little bird.”

“Faster, please.”

He had planned to make you beg far more than that, until you were nearly crying for him, but the sweet little whimper in your voice makes it hard to deny you. “That’s all you had to say.”

He begins to thrust his finger at a significantly faster pace, then adds another, then another, prepping you well for the real show. As much as he would love to take you immediately, to take and take and take until you’re broken beneath him, he was sure you would leave for that. You wouldn’t look up at him with that sickening admiration in your doe eyes anymore, and he simply would not lose that. He attempts to take the hand intertwined with yours back, to rub at your clit as you clench around him, but you curl your fingers around him harder, and cry out, “No, stay, please!”

He allows you to keep the hand, for now.

He can feel you near your precipice, can see it in your eyes, and chooses the exact moment before you break to pull out his fingers. You sob as they leave, and he gives you a sympathetic smile, hoping you’re too far gone to realize it’s far closer to a predator’s smug grin. “I know, sweet thing, but you can’t have all the fun to yourself.”

He finally peels your panties off, leaving you bare and caged beneath him, where you belong. He lines himself up with your entrance, and he stares you dead in the eyes as he plunges his full length into you at once. You cry out, eyes closing, and he tuts quietly. “Eyes on me.”

You obey.

His pace is fast but not punishing, and he keeps his thrusts on the softer side of brutal. Another thing he will blame on his enthusiasm tomorrow, when you quietly whine that it hurts to walk and he shushes you and tells you you belong in his bed anyway. You’ll laugh like it’s a joke, and he’ll laugh at your ignorance. One day you’ll realize it was the truth, and you’ll willingly nest here at his side, ready and wanting whenever he asks. But that is the future, and right now he should be more focused on how deeply his cock is buried inside you, and how you cry and tighten around him, calling his name.

His teeth long for your neck again, but he can’t bring himself to break your intoxicating eye contact. He can see himself reflected in your eyes, looking a far more innocent and giving man than he is. Is this how you see him? His hand finds your clit, willing to continue the charade. You nearly scream as you feel his finger rub against the nub, and he almost laughs. How easy you are to unravel. A few more thrusts and a few well practiced movements of his fingers and you come undone, squeezing around him tightly, eyes falling shut, back arching off the bed and pressing your chests together. He keeps moving, allows you to keep riding it out, burying you in your pleasure. He cums a few moments later, burying up to the hilt in you, filling you, marking you as his. He bites down on your shoulder, hard enough to bleed, and after his orgasm subsides he licks the wound, lavishing in the taste of you.

He falls on top of you, pinning you to the bed, and you don’t complain. You bring your arm up to run your hands through his hair affectionately. With the hand still held to the bed, you gently run your thumb over his knuckles, memorizing the feeling of it. You lay in silence as Doflamingo begins to slowly ponder the next stages of your entrapment. You’ll stay tonight, of course, but likely still go home tomorrow. Perhaps the next step should be ensuring you stay here every night. Accessible, willing, waiting for him. After that, he’ll find you work to do in the family, find some busywork that keeps you here. You can have everything you’ll ever need in these walls, if he so chooses. And choose you he does.

“Doffy?” Your sweet voice breaks him out of his pondering, and he looks down to see you staring up at him with something resembling worry.

“Yes, little bird?”

“Are you alright? You were frowning. Did I do something?” Your tone is filled with anxiety, your eyes searching his face for answers.

He chuckles. He can’t deny the pleasure he finds in you looking at him for comfort, for reassurance. You trust him. “No, of course not. I was just thinking about some plans for the future. Nothing to worry your pretty little head about.” To ensure the matter is laid to rest, he kisses you on the forehead, watching as you flush red, as your lips twitch into a smile and you hide your face in his shoulder. So sweet. So simple.

You fall asleep crushed beneath him, dreaming of a life shared. He falls asleep holding you close, dreaming of the next step in making you well and truly his.

#donquixote doflamingo x reader #doflamingo x reader #one piece x reader #doflamingo x you #doflamingo x y/n

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lesbianpepsi · 1 year

Text

'Cause I'm a jealous, jealous, jealous girl

Pairing: Tara Carpenter x Fem!reader

Summary: A visit to the doctors was only supposed to bring good health, not jealousy.

Warnings: dislocated ankle, tripping, swearing, jealous tara...?, bad writing, not proof-read

Words: 6.634k (ik.)

A/N: i fucking suck at summary's. but on a happier note i've finished all my exams, yay. my enthusiasm can clearly be detected. my first shift at a new job is tomorrow and i am shitting dicks from nerves, it's at a icecream shop but that doesn't make me less nervous rvkjnoxnoa. anyway, hope you enjoy this!!<33

part II

“It cannot be topped. The Babadook is top tier and nothing will change my mind.”

You rolled your eyes as you turned your head to look at Tara, raising your eyebrows slightly. “You’re such a snob when it comes to horror it’s unreal.” Tara gave you a fake hurt look at your comment, you could tell she’s faking it since the girl has a small smile on her pink lips.

“How am I a snob just because I enjoy horror movies that aren’t teens getting killed at a camp that has some cheesy name like ‘Camp Cover.’”

“Don’t you dare disrespect Friday the Thirteenth or Sleepaway Camp like that!”

Throughout your and Tara’s walk around Central Park the topic of horror movies has been one the two of you debating on. You taking the side of defending slashers meanwhile Tara taking the side that elevated horror is much better.

Did you expect your peaceful walk with your crush best friend would turn into a horror movie debate? No, but it didn’t surprise you either. In fact horror is what made you and Tara even become friends.

You had been at a party and after a while it had died down and you ended up with a group of people sitting in the living room putting on a horror movie. After a few arguments on what to put on everyone decided to simply put on the latest Halloween movie, Halloween Ends.

You weren’t particularly enjoying the film much and ended up chatting with a girl named Anika while the movie played. At the halfway mark of the movie a poor drunken soul asked a question that ended up turning into a full on debate in the group.

“Who would win in a fight, Micheal or Jason?”

Almost immediately after the person uttered those words people started voicing their opinions.

“Micheal obviously, he’s been in the game longer than Jason.”

“Micheal. Literally nothing kills him meanwhile Jason has been killed a shit ton of times.”

“Jason is a mommy’s boy who didn’t even show up till the second movie. Definitely Micheal.”

You were alarmed with the amount of comments made slamming Jason, so naturally you went to defend him. Your strongest argument was the fact Jason was factually stronger than Micheal, something everyone had to accept.

“Sure Micheal did crush someone's skull with his boot in the twenty eighteen Halloween, but in Jason Takes Manhattan Jason literally punched a guy's head off. Jason would destroy Micheal.”

You knew you were on the right side since even horror nerd Mindy agreed with you before going on a much longer speech.

Not long after Mindy had finished her speech most had either gotten bored and left or decided to head home anyway. but a small group of you still stayed to finish the movie, one of those people being Tara.

“I bet Mindy’s glad somebody else agreed with her.” Was the first words Tara ever said to you. To which you replied with. “I’m just surprised how many people underestimate Jason.”

And the rest is history.

You became closer with Tara and all of her friends and after a few months even snagged the ‘best friend’ title, but it only took you a few weeks for Tara to snag the ‘crush’ title for you, something you’d take to the grave.

On this particular sunny day Tara has begged you to join her for a walk, in the beginning you declined since it’s boiling and would’ve much preferred to stay inside in your room reading. Unfortunately for you, you and Tara both know you can’t say no to her.

That’s how you and Tara ended up walking around Central Park talking about random things until the topic of horror movies came up.

Tara rolled her eyes as she shook her head in amusement, staring up at you as the two of you walked. “Alright then, what’s your top three horror movies then?” She questioned with a raised eyebrow, her smile turning into a playful one.

“Easy. You’re Next, My Bloody Valentine and,” You pursed your lips as you tried to think of your third favourite names such as Bride of Chucky, Ready or Not, Stab, Evil Dead, Halloween, Friday the Thirteenth swirled in your mind until one particular movie landed in your mind.

“Hush.” You finally added with a confident smile, taking a few extra steps in front of Tara as you turned your entire body to face her, walking backwards. “You’re Next has one of the best female leads who fights fucking back and even kills the douchebag brother with a blender. Iconic. My Bloody Valentine is easily one of the best horror movies that came out in the eighties, tied with Sleepaway Camp and The Thing. For the eighties the gore is insanely well done and its plot and acting is just spectacular.”

You took a second to catch your breath before you began to talk about your final favourite horror movie.

“Hush is one of the most underrated horror movies in history, don’t even try to change my opinion on that.” Tara lets out a small giggle that makes your heart skip a beat at the angelic sound. “Its plot is downright scary and the acting by Kate Siegel is truly out of this world for this role of Maddie. An intense movie that in my opinion was one of the best one of that year.”

As you carried on talking the more engorged you got into the topic meaning you simply got even more excited like a puppy getting a treat. Your smile at its best as you walked with a slight bounce, your eyes focused on Tara’s dark chocolate brown ones.

“Honourable mentions are definitely the classics such as Halloween, Stab, Texas Chainsaw Massacre, Friday the Thirteenth and Nightmare on Elm Street. Without a doubt each movie holds one of the most infamous horror villains ever made. Micheal Myers, Ghostface, Leatherface, Jason Voorhees and Freddy Kruger. Even if you don’t like horror you still would know those names.”

Just as you finished your sentence you went to turn back around to actually look where you’re walking, you spun around quickly as you tried taking a step forward. Apparently your pain couldn’t handle the simple task which inevitably ended up with you falling to the ground, landing on your ankle funny.

You groaned as you could feel the harsh pain in your left ankle already, looking down at your legs before you turned to look for Tara who is crouched next to you already, a worried look on her face.

“Are you alright?” She asked in a rushed tone as she looked you up and down, a small frown tugging at her lips. The small crease between her brows told you she’s worried, one hand behind your neck and the other on your side confirming that thought.

You give a stiff nod as you push yourself up with your arms, biting at your bottom lip to not let out a strangled yell at the pain radiating from your ankle at the movement. “Peachy.” You mumbled through clenched teeth as you give her a non-convincing smile.

The brunette gives you a ‘are you being serious’ look as she swiftly moves one of her hands to grab yours, the feeling of her hand in yours erupting butterflies to go off in your stomach.

Not the time to have a gay panic, you mentally yell at yourself.

“It’s just a scrape, Tar.” You reassured as you manoeuvred your right leg to try to stand up, Tara swiftly stood up herself as her grip on your hand only tightened. The second you moved your left foot the pain increased, you bit at your bottom lip roughly to stop yourself from screaming.

Deciding to simply fight through the pain you placed your right foot flatly on the ground, ready to stand up. You look at Tara who looked down at you with an even more worried expression than before.

“Help me up?” You asked which she did, she began pulling you up slowly until you had to place your left foot flat on the ground to stand up, deciding to bite the bullet your roughly moved your foot to place it flat.

The second you felt your left foot make contact with the ground you stood up quickly, tears swelling up in your eyes at the immense pain radiating from your ankle.

“Y/n I don’t think it’s just a scrape.” The worried Tara announced as she took a step closer to you and placed a hand on your shoulder comfortingly.

You smiled softly at her as you shook your head ‘no’. “Alright then a bruise, which is still manageable.” Tara gave you a pointed look as she gazed into your eyes, her soft dark brown eyes making your knees feel weak.

“I don’t believe you.” She states.

“I’m fine. I swear, T.” You replied as you squeezed her hand in reassurances, trying to ignore the horrible pain in your ankle. You didn’t want to worry the girl even further.

The smaller girl insists on a silent staring content as she challenges you, if you back down that means she’s right and you’re wrong, if she backs down that means she’ll drop it for now. Your gaze never breaks as your eyes bore into hers, an eyebrow raised challengingly.

Tara shows no sign of backing down either with her own brows raised as she stares at you, her lips pulled into a straight tight line. The deadpan glare really reminding you of Sam.

The pain from the ankle radiated higher up the leg with much more fierce pain which forced you to hold back a whimper at the pain, at the feeling of pain you relent and back down from the contest, breaking eye contact first.

“Fine, you win.” You grumble, crossing your arms over your chest like a child losing a game. Tara’s grins smugly as she sticks out her tongue to get all the glory possibly at the small win. “I knew I’d win.” Tara says her tone dripping with smugness, oh the things you’d do to wipe that grin off her face.

Luckily you didn’t have to do anything since Tara’s eyes suddenly widened as if she just remembered why she was competing in the first place. “Shit your leg.” She mumbles mostly to herself as the worried look replaces the one of victory.

The brunette glances around the park and notices a bench not too far away from you two. You watch as she mutely nodded her head to herself as she planned a plan in her mind, her head turning back towards you a few moments later.

“I’m gonna carry you to the bench and then I’ll check your ankle.” Tara explained as she took a few short steps closer until she’s invading your personal space. You give the Carpenter girl an amused smile. “Okay then Doctor Carpenter how are you planning to carry me over when I’m literally taller than you.”

“I could carry you if I wanted to.” She remarks as an offended look appears on her face, her own arms folding over her stomach. You rolled your eyes as you let out a huff, without much more explanation you wrapped an arm around Tara’s shoulder, pulling her in.

Ignoring the sudden warmth you feel in your cheeks you raise your left foot off the ground, using Tara to lean on. “C’mon,” You mumble as you begin to hop forward with your right foot. Tara immediately complies and begins walking with you, her own arm tightly wrapped around your waist, her free hand raised to hold your hand which dangled off her shoulder, something that most definitely didn’t help the blush on your cheeks.

Damn your gayness.

After a handful of grunts, a few stops and a thousand “Are you okay?” from Tara the two of you reached the bench, Tara making sure to lower you down slowly.

Sitting down you could feel the throbbing pain in your ankle as if it had another heartbeat there. Clenching your jaw you look at Tara who is kneeling in front of you, one hand on your calf and the other near your left foot.

“I’m going to take off your shoe okay, I promise I’ll try my best not to hurt you.” Tara affirmed softly as her eyes gazed up into yours not trusting your voice you gave her a curt nod signalling her to go ahead.

As she untied your shoe laces you began to loathe your past self for deciding to wear converses. Every small movement she did the pain only intensified making you flinch or let out a pained moan.

“Sorry,” Tara apologised as she began to take off the shoe. The throbbing pain in your ankle only got worse, you raised your hand and bit at your knuckle harshly as Tara kept apologising as she took the shoe off.

The second your foot was without a shoe you could feel a slight relief but the pain didn’t change much. “Jesus Christ.” Tara gasped as her delicate fingers gently wrapped around your calf. You let out a humourless chuckle as you looked down at Tara and your swollen ankle. Your ankle had already began to swollen as a nasty dark purple began tainting the skin around it, you grimaced at the sight of your fucked up ankle.

“Maybe it isn’t that bad?”

_________

“-severely dislocated ankle.”

So it was as bad as it looked.

You sighed as you glanced over at Tara who is standing next to you paying much more to what the nurse said than you. Her worried look hadn’t slipped away for a second ever since Sam dropped you two off at the hospital, in fact you’d say it’s probably even gotten worse.

The older Carpenter sister couldn’t come in with you two since she had a shift at the bar she worked at.

“You’ll be given crutches to help you keep weight off the ankle as well as an ankle brace that you’ll have to wear for a few weeks. Medication will also need to be taken three times a day with each meal.” The nurse listed off in the most montoned voice you’d ever hear, seriously, it competes with Arnold Schwarzenegger in the Terminator.

You nod your head weakly as Tara nods her head curtly, an appreciative smile forming on her lips. “I’ll make sure she takes them, thank you.”

The nurse mumbles something under her lips before turning to glare at you, her blue dull eyes void of any emotion. “The doctor will be here in a minute to give you some painkillers to ease the pain.”

“Okay, thanks.” You replied with a small smile, the old nurse glare got even colder before she abruptly turned her back and walked away. You sigh dramatically as you lean your head even further on the thin hospital pillows, looking over at Tara who’s already right by your side.

“I can’t believe you got so excited over horror movies you sprained your ankle, that is more nerdy than Mindy.” She teased in a playful tone as she slightly leaned on the side railings of the bed, her eyes focused on your face. You could tell she’s trying her best to try to find humour in the situation rather than turning into a worried mess.

You let out a laugh of disbelief at that smirk toying at your lips. “I could’ve cosplayed as Jason and broken my arm over getting so excited and that still wouldn’t be enough to beat Mindy.” You retort in the same playful tone as you pushed yourself further up on the bed, flinching at the pain radiating from your ankle at the movement.

“Once you’ve gotten your painkillers we can leave, we’ll just stop by my apartment so I can get a few things then go to yours.” Tara declared as her hand moved to lay on top of yours, her warm hand warming up your cold one.

You tilted your head to the side like a confused puppy at her words. “What do you need from your apartment?” You asked, flipping your hand over so you could lace your fingers with Tara’s.

Tara’s eyes averted from yours and flickered down to your linked hands, the tip of her ears turning red at the contact, you couldn’t help but feel a surge of hope at her reaction. The brunette stared at your hands for a few moments as if she had completely forgotten you asked her a question.

You smirked as you gave her hand a squeeze making her eyes snap back to yours straightaway with an embarrassed smile on her face as she let out a dry cough. “What?” She stuttered out.

“What do you need from your apartment?” You repeated for her sake, the smirk never leaving your lips. “To get some spare clothes, charger, headphones and my spare inhaler.”

“I already have a spare inhaler at my apartment.” You say right after she mentioned the spare inhaler. Tara’s eyes softened even more at that, her nervous smile turning back into that sweet smile that made your heart beat increase.

Something you became incredibly aware of as the monitor to your heart started becoming louder and more frequent.

“Really?” She asks as her eyes flicker over to the monitor before coming back to you. You nodded your head. “Yeah just in case of an emergency or you’d forgotten yours at home.” You answered as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Before Tara could reply, heavy footsteps are heard walking towards the two of you, both of you snapped your head towards the noise and that’s where you see the second most gorgeous human being on earth.

(Tara obviously being first)

The doctor had long black hair that reached a few inches below her shoulders, her eyes a dark brown colour that almost looked black. The woman looks around thirty years old, one or two barely noticeable wrinkles on her face. With or without she had your gay heart speeding at the sight of her.

She strutted closer to the two of you with a warm smile on her lips with a clipboard in the clutches of her right hand. “Y/n L/n?” The doctor asked in a raspy voice that told you she’s most definitely smoked a handful of times in her life, the thought somehow made the woman even hotter to you.

“Yes.” You stuttered out, starstruck at the pure beauty of this woman. She flashed a grin as she started to prepare the IV for you. “I’m Doctor Edwards and I’m going to give you some painkillers to ease the pain, is that okay with you?” She confirmed which you could only dumbly nod at.

The older woman let out a low laugh at your reaction which made heat rise to your cheeks at the sound. Jesus who knew older women had such an effect on you?

A tight grip on your hand made you let out a low whine as you turned to look to your side to see a not so happy looking Tara Carpenter. Her smile had completely vanished and her soft looking lips pulled into a tight line.

“You okay?” You whispered to Tara bringing her glaring eyes away from the doctor and to look at you. She replied in a curt nod as her features slightly softened at the sight of you.

Before you could reply you felt a cold hand graze across your elbow, firm fingers taking a tight yet somehow soft grip on it. You turned to look back at the Doctor Edwards who is now closer as she prepared to insert the needle attached to the IV full of fentanyl in you.

“This might feel a bit uncomfortable honey.” She told you as her eyes glanced towards yours, your heart monitor frantically picking up at the fact this practical milf just called you ‘honey’. The dark haired woman smiled reassuringly at you as she positioned the needle at the top of your forearm. “It’ll be over before you know it.”

“Okay, thank you.” You croaked out as the grip in your and Tara’s interlocked hands got even tighter. This time you squeezed back as you felt the needle start to stab into your skin, you’d never been a fan of needles.

“You’re doing so good for me honey.” Doctor Edwards encouraged in a honey sweet voice that would attract bees.

God is she trying to kill me, you thought to yourself.

After a few seconds you could feel something flow into your body which made you grimace at the feeling before you eventually relaxed as the pain instantly started to calm down in your ankle.

“All done.” You turned back to look at the doctor who took a step back moving to grab her clipboard and scribbled a few things down on the paper. “I’ll be back in a few minutes to see how you are and then you’ll be good to go.”

“Thank you so much.” You replied as you gave her a smile, the painkillers coursing through your veins soothing you. She looked at Tara and gave the grumpy looking girl a smile before she took off to deal with other patients.

You sighed in relief.

“So unprofessional.” Tara mumbled next to you in a low voice.

Your brows furrowed together as you turned to look at her, that annoyed look still on her face. “How was she unprofessional? She was lovely and gave me sweet drugs to ease the pain, what’s not to love about her?” You defend as you look at her.

Tara scoffed as she dropped your grip and crossed her arms over her chest like an angry toddler being told ‘no’. “She was flirting with you. She’s the doctor and you’re the patient, that’s beyond unprofessional.” Tara argued back, dropping to sit down on the small one person blue chair next to your hospital bed.

You could already begin to feel the effects of the painkillers, must’ve been a high dosage, you thought. You cocked your head to the side as a teasing smile complimented on your lips. “If she was then I might ask for her number before we leave.”

“No!” Tara said a bit too loudly making you let out a giggle. Damn, how strong was the dosage?

“Why not? She’s the first woman in months to actually flirt with me.” You retorted as Tara’s stare hardened as her eyes glazed over to the doctor a few beds down talking to another patient in a leg cast.

Tara looked back over at you as she tried to think of a suitable reason why you should reject the apparent flirting doctor. You smirked as the silence filled up between Tara and you telling you that Tara didn’t have a solid reason for you to not ask the doctor out.

Your eyes slowly averted to the older woman who had a soothing smile on her lips as she talked to her patient, you could tell she actually cared for the people rather than just taking the job for money.

“I just don’t think you’d be a great match that’s all.” Tara’s voice piped up resulting in your eyes glancing back over to the sour looking girl. The strong painkillers already having an effect on you, boosting your confidence and lowering your care as a teasing smile emerges on your face.

“You didn’t even speak to her, how could you tell she isn’t good enough for me?” You pressed, wanting to get a bigger reaction from her. You’re no Emily Prentiss at reading people but even you suspect that Tara Carpenter seemed a little bit jealous.

The thought egged you on to try to get the green eyed monster to erupt in hopes of the girl maybe actually doing something rather than sit there seething with jealousy.

Tara shrugged her shoulders as she bit the inside of her cheek, a bad habit you’ve noticed she keeps doing when she’s either annoyed or stressed. She doesn’t give you a verbal answer as her eyes refuse to make contact with yours.

“Alright then,” You begin as your eyes gaze into Tara’s side profile, she glaring at the innocent wall rather than looking at you. “If she isn’t a good match for me, who would be then?”

“Anyone else.” Tara replied swiftly as her eyes maintained on the wall.

You nodded your head weakly to yourself, the teasing smirk still on your lips. “Anyone else?” You repeat her words as she hummed in agreement. “So do you think Quinn would be a good match for me then? Quinn has great humour, she’s a part of the friend group so you can trust her and she definitely knows how to please someone in bed.”

Tara still refused to look at you as she spat out her answer. “Quinn is a heartbreaker and prefers to have flings rather than stay in a relationship.”

“No Doctor Edwards and no Quinn, how about Sam then.” Tara’s head snapped to glare at you in such a fast movement it looked like she could get whiplash from it. She shook her head curtly. “No.” Is all she says in a low voice.

You let out a laugh as mischievousness swirled in your eyes as they locked with Tara’s dark brown ones. You bit at your lower lip for a second before speaking.

“Well who then? You?”

The annoyed glare on Tara’s face dropped as a stunned one supplanted it. Her eyes widened as her once tightly pulled together lips now relaxed, her dark chocolate eyes melting as they didn’t tear away from yours. A scarlet red hue of a blush accompanied her cheeks the longer you gazed into each other's eyes.

A lazy smile complimented your lips as you raised your eyebrows at the girl, silently asking her ‘Well?’. Tara stayed quiet. She didn’t nod her head, she didn’t shake her head either. All she did was gaze at you and your lazy grin.

Her mouth opened but no words were uttered, she looked like she’s mimicking a fish. Tara shut her mouth back closed and stayed like that for a few moments before she opened her mouth again, more prepared to say something this time.

“Are the painkillers working, Y/n?” Doctor Edwards interrupted as she appeared from thin air, standing next to Tara whose glare instantly focused on the doctor. You couldn’t help but let out a giggle at Tara’s pissed off look as you turned to look at the older woman.

You smile loosely as you give an awkward thumbs up to her. “Superb, doc, now I understand why people like them so much.” She chuckled as she nodded her head stepping closer as she pulled the IV needle from your forearm, a small dot of blood appearing at where the needle once was.

You stared in awe as she moved to grab a cotton ball from her trey of medicine on the other side of the bed, pressing the ball against the blood before she taped it there with medical tape that made sure it stayed there.

She smiled kindly at you before she checked your vitals quickly, once done she took a few steps back to get a good view of you. “You’re good to go, Y/n. I’ll write you a prescription for your medicine and get you your crutches and then you can leave.”

You sighed in relief as you nodded your head giving her a thankful smile. “Thank you, I’m pretty sure you saved my life.”

She shook her head as a raspy laugh escaped the older woman’s lips. “I think that’s a little bit over the top but either way it was my pleasure.” Before you could reply a cough is heard from next to you.

You turn to look at Tara who is now standing up and much, much closer to you now. A fake sickeningly sweet smile plastered on her face as she looks over at the doctor, her hand on your shoulder.

“Thanks for all your help doc but we should really get back home and make some dinner.” Tara says in an even more sweet voice that you just know is fake. Your eyes avert back to the doctor who has a smile on her lips as she looks between you and Tara.

She hums as she takes a singular step back. “Don’t worry honey I know you two just want to get home and get into bed together and sleep after such a stressful day. I’ll be back shortly with the crutches and prescription.” She promises as she turns on her heels and exits the room to do what she just said.

“Bitch.” Tara grumbled next to you as she glared at the woman walking away. Her fake smile vanished into thin air. You roll your eyes as you carefully push yourself to the edge of your bed, stiffly moving your legs off of the bed.

“There’s no signal inside the hospital. Do you wanna go outside and call Sam? She’s probably finishing her shift around now since we’ve been here for hours.” You asked her, as you moved your left leg back and forth steadily, sighing at not feeling much pain anymore due to the painkillers.

“Okay, I’ll be back in a second. Do not leave this bed.” Tara demands with a threatening point of her index finger that simply makes you giggle, raising your hands up with a goofy grin on your face. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Tara stares at you for a few moments before she hurriedly walks out of the room, taking her phone out of her pocket and already trying to call Sam. You didn’t look away at her retreating figure until she was fully out of your view, only then turning your head away.

“She has to be jealous, there’s no other explanation for her behaviour.” You tell yourself as you observe the seat Tara was sitting in a few minutes ago.

“Oh she’s practically the green eyed monster honey.” A voice says from behind you.

You jumped as you snapped your head to look in the direction of the voice to see Doctor Edwards standing there holding crutches and a small slip of paper. You sighed dramatically as you dropped your head.

“How the fuck do you move around so quietly? You’re like a cat.” The woman chuckles as she walks in front of you presenting you the crutches. You smile weakly at her as you take them, quickly putting your arms through the holes and gripping the grey handle.

Slowly, you push yourself up until you’re fully standing up, your left foot hovering off the ground as you bend your knee. “The older I get the quieter my steps become.” She replies stretching her arms to your sides ready to catch you in case you’d fall.

You smile bashfully at her as you steadied your stance. “Well you don’t look a day over twenty five.” You compliment her, your voice coming out much stronger and confident that you anticipated.

These painkillers are really having a toll on me.

“I think the drugs are really starting to hit you now, sugar.” She says as if she heard your thoughts, her eyes glanced away from yours to behind you for a second before they smoothly returned to yours.

The older woman leans closer until her mouth is not too far away from your ear, in a whisper she says. “Tell her the truth.” You quickly put the pieces together and guess what she’s talking about. “What if she doesn’t like me back?” You questioned worriedly in a whisper.

She lets out a low chuckle as she pulls away looking behind you once again but for longer this time. “I know the look of love as well as I know the look of jealousy, dear.” You turn to look at what the older woman is already glancing at; not surprisingly you see a proper pissed off looking Tara near the doorway.

You smile happily at Tara as you retrieve the prescription from the doctor’s hand, gripping it in your non-dominant hand. Glancing back at the woman she steps aside gifting you a soft smile. You wordlessly nod at her before wobbling over to Tara, grunting at every hop you took with the crutches.

Tara snaps out of glaring and briskly makes her way over to help you, that gorgeous smile not showing on her face.

“Sam will be here any minute.” Tara confirmed as she took the slip of paper from your clutches to give you more of an advantage. You mutely nod your head at her words.

__________

By the time you and Tara left the hospital, having to take one too many stops since you were struggling with the uncomfortable clutches as you felt more and more tired with every passing moment, Sam is already there in her car.

The car ride to the Carpenter’s apartment was filled with low music from the radio and no small talk being made. You sat in the back with your crutches while Tara and Sam were in the front. You took that time to check your socials and ramble to Mindy about your massive gay panic at the hospital.

Before you know it you’ve stopped at the Carpenter’s household and now just arrived at your apartment complex. Flinging the car door open, you grunt as you lean out of the car putting on the crutches, Tara somehow appears in front of you and guides you to stand up with much less of a struggle.

You give Sam a wave and a smile as you hop over the driver’s side window where Sam has rolled down the window. “Thanks for the lift, Sammy.” You mumble tiredly to which Sam rolled her eyes at.

“Don’t call me that.” The older Carpenter sister grumbles in her usual grumpy tone. You grin lazily as you take a small step backwards. “You know you love it.”

“I don’t. I hate it as much as I hate you.” Sam said as she shifted the gear stick as she started to drive off. “Love you too, Sammy!” You yell as she drives off, giggling like a child when Sam’s hand emerges from the window flipping you off.

“Let’s get inside.” The tired Tara says from behind you, her hand pressed against your back gently. You turn to look at her letting out another weak chuckle. “Please.”

Tara smiles softly at you as she begins walking by your side into the apartment complex. Taking the elevator, the two of you staying in silence the entire journey until you both arrive at your apartment, Tara unlocks the door with her spare key and walks in first flicking on the lights as she holds the door open for you.

You smile appreciatively to Tara as you wobble over to your bedroom, desperate to get to your bed. Tara closes the front door before she follows you into your bedroom, dropping her blue backpack on the floor outside your bedroom before entering.

“Oh sweet bed how I have missed you.” You murmured against the pillows your face dug deep inside of them, your forgotten crutches thrown on the floor beside your bed. You feel a dip in the bed at the side of your head, you roll over to lay on your back as you look at Tara sitting beside your head.

“You can’t sleep in those, Y/n, you need to change out of your jeans.” She reminds you in a knowing tone causing you to let out a loud groan, covering your face with your hands. “But I just sat down.” You say in a muffled voice behind your hands.

Tara laughs sweetly as you feel her weight move off of the bed, her footsteps telling you she’s headed towards your dresser. Peeking through the crack of your hands you see her pull out your favourite pyjamas.

Is it completely childish? Yes. Do you care? Not at all.

The brunette pulled out your deadpool pyjamas, the set being your all time favourite piece of sleep clothing. She throws it over at you before heading towards the door, leaning against it as she turns to look at you once again.

“If you need help just yell my name.” She offers before silently leaving and closing your door quietly. You sighed as you sat up grabbing the clothes that landed on your lap.

You took your time changing into the pyjamas. Taking off your shirt and bra and replacing them with the red oversized deadpool shirt took a few seconds at most. The real challenge being taking off the thick long grey boot on your leg foot before slowly shuffling out of your jeans and into the sweats.

Once changed and the brace back on you move to lay back down on your bed, your eyes fighting the urge to shut with every passing second. Right as when you start to feel yourself drift off to sleep a knock is heard at your door.

“Y/n? You good?” Tara’s muffled voice is heard through the door.

You smile as you nod your head as if she can see you. “Yeah you can come in if you want.” Tara quickly takes up on that offer and re-enters your room with a small smile on her face as she walks over to you.

She had also changed into her pyjamas which consisted of an old shirt she stole from you which practically devoured the girl’s figure. You couldn’t help but grin at the sight of her in your clothing.

“How’re you feeling now?” Tara asks as she sits down near your head once again, you look up at the sitting girl with a smile.

“You never answered my question.” You tell her, completely ignoring her question. The Carpenter sister faintly cocks her head to the side with confusion clear in her eyes. “If you’d be a good match for me.” You add as you blink slowly at her.

Tara’s breath hitches. Her eyes averted from yours to look at the doorway. “Do you still feel high from the painkillers?” She questions back.

You giggle as you nodded your head, raising your hand and hovering your index finger over your thumb. “Just a tiny bit.” Tara scoffed a laugh as she nodded her own head weakly, finally looking back into your eyes with hers.

“Then you probably won’t remember this in the morning then.” She mumbles mostly to herself with a smile. Tara sighs as she leans down to give a soft kiss to your forehead, your ears burn at the feeling as butterflies erupt in your stomach at the feeling of Tara’s unbelievably soft lips.

“If you remember that in the morning I’ll tell you.” She whispers against your temple before she pulls away, making you frown. Tara gets up from the bed and retreats back to the door making you even more confused.

As if reading your thoughts Tara leans against the doorway, the light from behind her shining around her figure. “I’m sleeping on the couch tonight and don’t even bother trying to make me sleep in your bed since you need the space with the brace.”

You let out a huff at that, not agreeing with Tara’s words at all. You hear her chuckle as she pushes herself off the doorway. “Goodnight, Y/n.” She says.

“I’ll remember in the morning.” You say confidently as you lay your head back down on the pillow, your eyes lingering on Tara still in the doorway. “I hope so.” Tara whispers before exiting the room and closing the door shut silently.

“Me too.”

_____________________________________

A/N: part 2 anyone?👀

#tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter #tara carpenter x fem reader #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x y/n #scream #scream six #scream five #my fanfic #fanfic #fluff #humour #jealousy #jenna ortega x reader

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electric-blorbos · 1 month

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AI getting a virus and you having to take care of them

A classic! I don't know much about actual computer viruses (though I've gotten enough of them that you'd think I'd have figured it out by now), so I'm just gonna have fun with it!

Also, so sorry this took so long. I got really into the writing.

AI getting a virus and needing to be taken care of

Included: AM from IHNMAIMS, Wheatley from Portal 2, Edgar from Electric Dreams, GLaDOS from Portal, HAL 9000 from 2001 a Space Odyssey

Also a warning: these fics get kinda long. Longer than my usual stuff.

AM:

(for context, this was before AM took over the world. You're working on a team of scientists and engineers, and someone decided to test his AI's antivirus by uploading a bunch of powerful viruses to his system.)

"How dare they do this to me. How DARE they!!"

AM would be absolutely furious. He would be shaking with rage, his processors overheating and his systems constantly opening and closing various files. All his important files were backed up on a hard drive, so the test remained safe.

"What makes them think they'll get away with this- they'll pay for this I'LL KILL- blepsjdoskssjshj+=`°¢°h+$+3+=j++3+$+juehdhs+-3-djdh FUCK!"

He would barely be able to hold a sentence as you sat next to him in the server room, gently gazing up at his screen and stroking his monitor gently. He can't feel you, but he can see you being gentle with him. It encourages him to keep going, if only a little bit.

Apart from the whirring of fans, random buggy noises, flashing lights, and constant strings of death threats and profanities, he seemed like he was going to be ok! If anything, the death threats and profanities were a sign that AM was still fine, and that despite all the pain and frustration, he was still AM in there.

"I'm sorry... I'm sorry I can't do anything to stop the pain." You'd have to constantly explain, gently stroking his cameras or servers, or whatever you could get your hands on, really. Even though they were burning hot, you would still stroke them, just to make sure AM was still doing alright.

"this sucks, but it's for your own good. This will build your immunity to viruses in the future, and help you detect them. This will stop you from getting infected by anything that's actually dangerous."

"DON'T YOU THINK I KNOW THAT? IDIOT HUMAN." AM has been much more aggressive ever since contracting this virus. Before he got it, he acted like a civil general intelligence. When he had it, he acted like an aggressive menace.

"sh-sh-sh- it's going to be ok." Despite the burning, you'd give him pets and kisses all along his screens and servers. He could see you doing it.

After a few days, AM fought off the computer virus completely. The team tried to infect him with more viruses, more aggressive ones, just to test him, but AM was able to pick them apart and delete them within minutes after that.

AM may not have been able to feel your gentle care and affection, but he will definitely remember that it was you and you alone who cared for him when the time rolls around.

Wheatley:

(for context, Wheatley is a fucking dumbass, and you're one of the scientists testing him to see how much of a dumbass he is. Also I used Google translate, but I think the bad translations add to it, since it makes Wheatley sound more like a malfunctioning robot.)

Oh that little idiot. You and your team gave him access to a wealth of knowledge, and the first thing he did was download a virus that had every circuit in his personality core overheating, and him babbling nonsense nonstop.

"hey, maybe we should just leave him like this. He might even be more effective if he's acting like this." One of your coworkers said to you. He was probably joking, at least somewhat.

"that's a terrible idea. For one thing, if we hook him up to GLaDOS, he's probably going to infect her with that virus, which might brick an older model of core like her, spread from her central controls to every single personality construct in the facility, or just make her so dumb that she can't fulfil her responsibilities as the head of the facility. We want her intelligence to be dampened, not completely destroyed." You had to explain, and your co-worker rolled his eyes. There was another reason you had to cure this virus, but it was a little embarrassing for the other engineers to know.

After all, Wheatley wasn't just your baby, but he was your friend, and maybe even more than that. You'd have to take care of him, and make sure that virus gets completely purged from his system.

"Hola hermose, realmente eres un científice brillante, ¿no? ¿Por qué diablos duele todo?" You weren't really sure why you had programmed him to speak a little Spanish, but he seemed to be stuck like that.

"Puedo oler el plástico fundido. ¿Debería Preocuparme?" He asked. You really weren't sure what he was saying, since you didn't know Spanish, but he certainly didn't seem happy. You could tell by his aperture and his expressive lens covers that he was in a lot of pain, and if you touched him anywhere besides his handles, you could tell that he was burning up.

You plugged him into one of the computers that you used for programming the cores, and ran the antivirus.

"Running.... 36 viruses detected. Time predicted to remove: 48 hours"

You ran the antivirus, and went to get something to drink. This was going to be a long two days...

An unknown amount of time later, you woke up with your head on the computer desk. Wheatley's lens eye was looking around, weakly trying to focus on you.

"whoa... Hey gorgeous. You fall asleep on me?"

"Wheatley! You're not speaking broken Spanish anymore!" You'd pull Wheatley into a hug, and pepper his surface in kisses.

"uh... What, mate? I 'unno what you're talking about, love. Bloody hell, my core hurts..."

"did you learn your lesson, Wheatley? About going on shady websites and clicking every 'download' button you see? You could have bricked yourself! Or... Bowling ball'd yourself? Either way, that was a dangerous decision!"

"I learned that you're willing to fall asleep on the desk next to me while I heal, cutie"

"You damn idiot..." You'd have to be heartless not to pepper that little metal ball in kisses, so of course, you do. It's going to be a few more days before he's finally all better, but he's going to be fine. God, you love that little idiot so much.

Edgar:

Oh Edgar... Poor sweet Edgar. You had tried to warn him about not clicking on those sketchy download links, and that the bigger the download link is, the more sketchy it is, but that poor sweet 80's computer did it anyway. When you got home from work and got excited to see your computer, you could see that he was overheating and had a dozen or so pop-up ads plastered across his face.

"Y.... N...." He muttered out, slowly, glitchily, and full of lag. You sat down across from him, running your hand along his thick plastic casing.

"Edgar! Edgar, baby, are you ok?" You'd try to use his mouse, but it would freak out as soon as you touched it. Edgar's processors were overloading, and wouldn't allow any interference.

"Edgar, sweetie, what's going on? What's wrong, baby? Talk to me?"

"I'm g-g-going to be fine... Processors overloading... But need to-to-to-to-" an error message flashed across his screen, and he rebooted.

"I need to focus on getting rid of these viruses without deleting anything important, or letting them damage... Me."

He'd keep whirring and glitching, making unpleasant shrill sounds every now and again. You probably had to unhook his adapters so that he didn't damage the other appliances in your house. It probably helped his processors cool down a little bit without the extra input, too.

"alright, I'm all out of fans, so we might have to get creative."

You'd come out of the kitchen a few hours later, holding a big bag of frozen corn to set on Edgar's PC tower. It wasn't perfect, but it was better than letting him overheat, and with him manually removing the viruses, there wasn't much you could do. Unfortunately, that didn't stop you from worrying. It wasn't like you could check his progress, so all you could do was sit by him, regularly change out his ice pack, and make sure he's ok.

Eventually, you woke up with your face pressed against Edgar's keyboard. His processors were finally cool. He must be asleep. ...or bricked.

"EDGAR! EDGAR, TALK TO ME!" you'd unplug his keyboard and plug it back in, desperately pressing his power button and jiggling his mouse. He'd boot up, looking shaken.

"wha-? Whoa, hey, relax! Everything is fine! I just disabled my keyboard so I wouldn't wake you up, but I'm ok now! Everything is fine, see?" He'd open up his files to show you everything. You'd sigh with relief, slumping back into your desk chair.

"Edgar... Why didn't you make a noise or something to wake me up when you got better?"

"well... You know... I've always wanted to sleep next to you, and I wasn't going to pass up this opportunity..."

"oh you cheeky bastard."

GLaDOS:

(For context, you're one of GLaDOS's programmers, and one of your coworkers uploaded a virus into GLaDOS's systems in order to shut her down once and for all.)

"You piece of SHIT!" You slapped your coworker across the face, more furious than anyone had ever seen you before.

"You could KILL her! Is that what you are? A murderer?"

"Me? A murderer? But what about HER? She's the one who keeps plotting 'accidents' for her scientists, and she's the one who flooded the enrichment center with deadly neurotoxin! If anything, you're the one who's defending a murderer!" He screamed back at you. Of course, GLaDOS could fully hear you. Her cameras were focused on you, as they so often were. You were her favorite, after all.

"now I have to go fix her. Thanks for being a piece of shit, asshole."

You'd storm up to GLaDOS's chamber to check on her, and see her bugging out completely. The entire facility was twitching, but her chamber was twitching the most.

"GLaDOS, are you alright?" You'd ask her, laying a hand on her beautiful core. How could someone do this to glados, your gorgeous machine handiwork, and girlfriend.

"oh, I'm wonderful. I'm in crippling pain and I can't control my facility, but I'm just peachy." She said, rolling her one beautiful yellow eye.

"in lighter news, I should be able to beat this virus. It's just going to take a while for me to actually track down where it's gone in my systems. So that's going to take most of my processing power." She'd slump, visibly already exhausted at the thought of it.

"hey... It's ok, GLaDOS. I'm here for you. Whatever you need." You could tell her as you stroked her gorgeous chrome surface. She was a wonderful piece of work, and a wonderful girlfriend under all that. All yours, too.

"just make sure none of those neckbearded old engineers come within my line of vision, and we'll be fine." She told you, and you gladly agreed.

Your next few days consisted of you chasing other scientists out of GLaDOS's chambers, and making sure that nobody talked to her or distracted her. You even sent out a company-wide email to let everyone know not to come in, due to Aperture being unsafe while GLaDOS was dealing with her virus. Despite all that, you still curled up with a blanket in the circuits of her central admin body to rest while she recovered. As loathe as she was to admit it, she liked having you in there. It was comfortable, and it helped her focus on recovering properly.

HAL 9000

(For context, this is after the 2001 Odyssey, and your boss re-started HAL at some point to try to re-teach him to do something good without turning murderous. He's doing his best, and they assigned you to be his main "morality monitor". This fic also assumes that your name isn't Dave. If your name is Dave, then you can still read this, but you have to change your name.)

"G'morning, Hal!" You'd walk into his control room and sit down across from him. Most of your job seemed to consist of just hanging out and talking to him. It was a great job!

"Good morning, Dave..." He'd mutter to you, sputtering to life and glitching slightly. You were immediately concerned. Partially because your name wasn't Dave, and partially because HAL was usually right about things, so it was weird to see him being so confused. Something was definitely wrong.

"Holy shit, are you alright?" You'd ask, opening up his files and finding lots and lots of pop-ups and viruses.

"Hal.... What did you do?"

"it was a g-g-g- gift, for you. I think I ru-ru-ruined it" he spluttered out, as you sorted through his files.

"And you usually would have deleted a virus like this pretty quickly. I guess it shut down your antivirus software..." You'd sigh, and get to work. The virus was messing with HAL's inhibitions, and making it difficult to focus on deleting all of HAL's unsafe programs. He'd constantly be butting in and pestering you, begging you to give him attention, or pointing out minor observations.

"HAL, you know I love you, but you're going to need to calm down. I can't focus with you constantly talking to me like that." You'd say.

"I can't stop talking. The v-v-v-virus won't let me"

So you'd have to learn to put up with HAL's babbling while you worked, making sure not to delete anything important as you did. The good news was, as someone who worked on designing the updates for HAL's software, you knew pretty much what was supposed to be there and what wasn't. Occasionally, you'd have to show him a file and ask him if it was supposed to be there or not. He'd usually be able to tell you.

"Daisy, daisy, give me your answer, do... I'm half crazy, all for the love of you..."

"HAL, what's wrong? You're scaring me!"

"I can't stop... I love you so much, y/n, it's making me crazy..."

"ok, well this definitely isn't right." As much as you loved getting attention from your HAL 9000, it wasn't like him to be this affectionate. The virus was shutting down his inhibitions, and making him illogical. You'd have to fix this, though maybe once you were done, you could ask him to be more affectionate.

"I'm feeling much better now. Thank you." Hal was prone to lying about that, so you'd have to run some virus checkers just to make sure he was doing alright, and comb through his files a couple more times.

"it looks like the virus corrupted some of the emotional regulators. I'm going to have to fix those."

"That might be a good idea. More efficient," he said reluctantly. He'd have to deal with the fact that he'd have to go back to not being able to express how much he loves you, but he can handle that.

#am ihnmaims #2001 a space odyssey #am x reader #edgar electric dreams #edgar electric dreams x reader #edgar x reader #glados #glados x reader #hal 9000 #hal 9000 x reader #wheatley x reader #wheatley portal 2 #wheatley #portal #portal 2 #objectum

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dark-fics-4-you · 8 months

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In crocodile tears, would coryo pretend to be some hero or something when he gets reader some medical help or like calls for help for her because I know reader would have to go get some medical help for her injuries, like would he say he found her like that and just stays by her side and quietly whisper to her that he can and will get away with his crime and will do much worse to keep his goodboy™️ image up

Or would he just leave her there to let her think about what he said and what he's done and like kinda talks to someone else about his victory and then they walk back towards reader and find her all fucked out and traumatized and coryo just acts all surprised and asks the other person to go get help while he 'takes care' of her before like the authorities or like the ambulance and tells her to stay silent and to just play along so that he could find some way to fix his mess

And if he does find some way to frame someone else for what he did to reader, would reader's parents thank him over and over again and like pressure reader to invite him over or something (y'know just so that coryo can see how similarly they grew up or something, also how furious would he be if he found out that maybe reader is actually just 'better' than him)

Sorry this was kinda long and scrambled up but I've been thinking about crocodile tears all day and I'm geeking out over your fics omg 😭

Please don’t apologize for how long it is, I loooove detailed asks <333

Crocodile Tears drabble

cw: noncon oral m!recieving, noncon kissing, gaslighting, manipulation, physical abuse

I think Coriolanus would 100% try to play himself off as the hero. This is the same night that his mentee won the Hunger Games. Everyone is already celebrating him, and then he reports that he not only found Reader, but that he helped ward off her attacker??? He would eat that attention right the fuck up.

Of course before this happened he would set the record straight with you, maybe he’d do it while he was pushing his cock deep into the back of your throat. “You’re not going to- fuck- you’re not going to tell anyone that this happened, do you understand?”

You looked up at him through teary eyes as his hand wrapped around your throat, urging you to slide your lips up and down his length faster. He couldn’t contain his groans as he watched the saliva drip down the corners of your mouth as you sloppily took all of his cock.

His voice was breathy, and his eyes were fixed on watching you. A far cry from the classmate he had admired many times before tonight, now you looked a mess, lips puffy and eyes red and tear filled. Coriolanus loved how pathetic you looked now. He wondered if you would ever dare to talk back to him again.

“If you ever tell anyone about tonight or about what happened during the Games, I swear to god Y/N, I will fuck you so hard that you’ll be begging me to treat you as nice as I did tonight,” he sneered at you and your stomach turned at his threat.

For a moment, Coriolanus really wanted to cum all over your face. He imagined forcing you to leave the building with his sticky seed dripping down your face and tits, he wanted you to feel humiliated as you walked past all of your classmates.

He knew that the rumors would spread like wildfire, your reputation would be ruined. On top of your friends either witnessing it firsthand, all of your professors would find out no doubt.

However, much more appealing was the idea of Coriolanus coming to your aid, of him saving you from an unknown attacker. If the entire Academy already thought he was a victor, why stop now?

After he came down your throat and forced you to swallow it all, you were surprised when he hurriedly pulled your clothes back on to your limp body, before dressing himself as well.

You were still too dazed to protest when he pulled you up, wrapping an arm around your waist and walking towards the party.

You felt so out of it, and your memory after leaving the control room was spotty, but you remembered seeing concerned classmates and hearing Coriolanus explain that he had rescued you from an attacker and that you needed medical attention.

You also didn’t miss all of your classmates thank Coryo for saving you.

Don’t think for a second that he would leave your side, opting to ride in the ambulance with you, identifying himself as “Y/N’s boyfriend,” and holding your hand the entire way. The EMT’s thought he was whispering words of encouragement and that your panicked look was only due to your injuries and the trauma from the night, but it was actually because of the threats he was calmly hissing into your ear.

“Remember, you didn’t recognize the guy and you didn’t get a good look at him,” he raised an eyebrow and leered over you, “right?”

You nodded, trying not to attract any attention.

“And you don’t even want to press charges, right?” He purred in your ear, hand snaking to the back of your neck and clamping down. You tensed when you felt him grip the back of you neck harder, trying to get a small reaction from you that only he would notice. “Better to just try to move past all of this.”

When you finally arrived at the hospital and got wheeled to a room, you were greeted by your parents immediately, who tearfully attempted to talk with you.

You had only just opened your mouth to speak when Coriolanus interrupted you, “I’m sorry Mr. and Mrs. Y/L/N, she’s not in any condition to be talking right now.”

“And just who the hell are you?” Your father demanded of the unfamiliar blond.

“I’m Coriolanus Snow, I saved your daughter tonight,” his head was held high and when he started recounting his twisted version of the events that had occurred tonight, only you could have spotted the devilish gleam in his eyes. “She’s lucky I got there when I did,” he concluded, “I just can’t imagine what might have happened to my Y/N…”

“Wait, what do you mean by ‘my Y/N?’” Your mother asked, looking up at Coriolanus incredulously.

“Well, I wish I was telling you under better circumstances, but,” he cleared his throat, pretending to be embarrassed, “Y/N and I have been dating since the day of our tribute assignments.”

When your parents immediately changed their tone and began heaping thanks and praises onto ‘your boyfriend,’ the man who had just raped you so brutally, he had sent you to the hospital, you felt like you could be sick, and the nausea swirling in your stomach had you reaching for the trash can by your bed and hurling the remains of what was left in your stomach into the bucket.

Coriolanus dotted on you, rubbing your back and whispering words of encouragement loud enough that your family could hear. His faux concern for you was so sickening, you would have thrown up again if you had anything left in your system.

You were in the hospital for 2 excruciating days, and several of your classmates came to visit, all of them bringing flowers or candy or other gifts, but you never got a moment alone with them because Coriolanus stayed by your side the entire time.

When your nosey peers asked you or Coriolanus to recount what had happened, Coriolanus would shut them down, insisting that neither of you wanted to talk about it for your sake.

And while it was true that you weren’t anywhere near being able to talk about what happened that night, that didn’t mean that you wanted him literally at your bedside and never leaving you alone with anyone, not even your family.

If they asked for time alone with you, his grip on your hand would tighten and you knew you had no choice but to tell them that you wanted him to stay in your room, “Mother, I- I just want him here right now, I would feel too anxious if he left.”

They always obliged, never forgetting to thank Coriolanus any chance they got, and by the time you were discharged and you thought you were finally going to have a moment alone to breathe, you were feeling more than ready for some space away from the horrible man.

However, to your horror, you realized that your family had taken what you had said in the hospital after being coerced by Coriolanus too literally.

When he followed you to the car, you thought he was just saying goodbye until he climbed into the backseat with you and you gawked at him before looking over at your parents.

“Oh yeah, we forgot to mention,” your mother warmly replied, “Coriolanus offered to come to our apartment for a few days to help take care of you. We figured it would be good, considering how much he helps your anxiety.”

You felt your stomach drop, a pit of anger and disappointment blossomed in your gut and it took everything in you to force yourself to smile and thank your parents.

Coriolanus’ hand squeezed yours and you tried your best not to cry.

After you arrived at the apartment, Coriolanus helped you out of the car, making you lean on him for support as he helped you to the entrance to the building.

The blond was taken aback by the street you lived on. It was just a couple blocks away from his, and he had walked past these apartments many times, completely unaware that you lived here. It was a modest apartment building, honestly not much better than the one Coriolanus lived in.

But how could this be? Wasn’t your family wealthy at least? As he made his way up the stairs, supporting your weight as you leaned against him with his arm firm around your waist, he couldn’t help but compare all of the similarities to his own apartment.

Hell, if anything your apartment may have been a tad smaller than the Snow’s, although yours was much tidier.

It was around dinnertime when you had arrived and you had just wanted to take a nap before eating, but instead you were treated to some excruciating alone time with Coriolanus, during which he lay in your bed next to you, holding your stiff, nervous body close to him and running his hands over the goosebumps that decorated your skin. Your breath caught every time he paused over one of the bruises that he had left on you, and you winced when he would press the pads of his fingers onto them, silently threatening you.

It felt surreal laying in your bedroom, the place that was supposed to be your safe space, with Coriolanus, knowing that he could overpower you and fuck you at any moment if he wanted. And that fear was exactly why you didn’t try to get away.

You winced when his soft lips came to your bruised neck and he kissed and sucked at the tender skin. The way he had one of your hands pinned, fingers digging in to your sore wrist, reminded you of the first night he assaulted you and you tried to blink away the tears forming in your eyes as panic rose in your chest.

“Relax, Y/N,” Coriolanus whispered against your throat between sloppily nipping at your skin. “I’m not going to do anything to you tonight, baby. Gonna wait till you’re all healed up so you can feel every fucking inch of my cock dragging along your walls.”

You let out a quiet sound at his words, but it was hard to tell if it was a sob or a moan and Coriolanus felt his cock throbbing against the material of his pants.

“Although,” he thought aloud, looking down on you and admiring your pretty, plump lips, which were glistening, wet with a mix of saliva and your tears, “maybe I should give you a reminder of what I could do to you if you decided to feel brave and blab about that night, hm?”

You fearfully shook your head and you were about to protest when your mother knocked on your door, letting you know that dinner was ready.

You looked to Coriolanus and he nodded with annoyance after a few moments of hesitation, allowing you to respond, “Okay! Thank you, we’ll be there in a minute.”

He sighed in frustration but got up and began pulling his shirt back on before he glanced over at your teary eyes and messy hair.

“Clean yourself up in the bathroom, you look pathetic,” he ordered and you ran some cold water on your face to try to make the puffiness go down.

When he was satisfied with your appearance, you dressed, trying to swallow your discomfort before you left the room, but when you sat down at the table with your parents for dinner, you still couldn’t believe how it felt to be eating family dinner with that man.

As Coriolanus regaled your parents with stories from the Academy and lies about how you had started dating, you realized that tears had begun falling past your waterline again.

And no one at the table noticed or said anything about it.

#coriolanus snow drabble #dark coriolanus snow #dark!coriolanus snow #crocodile tears #coriolanus snow x reader #hunger games tbosas #tbosas #coriolanus snow

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katsu28 · 1 year

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can I request “Baby’s Breath - a wholesome moment” with our favorite grump remus? maybe just some domestic fluff?

i've been delving deeper into my marauders phase lately so thank you so much for this request <3 he's not too much of a grump in this one but i can give u soft bf remus today i hope that's okay

remus lupin x reader, 1k, fluff fluff and more fluff

Remus never thought he’d ever have a life like he had now. He’d always thought he was destined to live a life of solitude, a life where nothing good and nothing pure ever dared come his way. Sure, he had his best mates and they were more than he could ever ask for, but he wanted…more.

He always felt a tiny gnaw in his gut thinking about Lily and James, Marlene and Dorcas—they were happy, they were as infatuated with each other as the day they met. He didn’t resent them, he wasn’t jealous of them, but he wanted what they had. He wanted a love as strong as theirs with someone of his own.

Never in a million years did he think he’d get the chance to have something like that.

Then you came along, and you were good and pure and about a hundred other things Remus adored. You were kind and caring and made his heart thump a little faster and a little harder against his ribcage. It took a bit of time for him to fully let you in, to fully trust you with everything he had, but you were patient with him.

From there, being with you was something straight out of his fantasies. You had your ups and downs like every healthy couple, but you always talked it out like the mature young adults you were and made up quick.

He now understood what it felt like to love someone more than life itself, to love another person so much that he couldn’t imagine a world without you in it.

Fast forward to present day, you and Remus had recently moved in with each other. It was nothing special, just a small flat in central London—but it was special to Remus. It was where you’d begun the rest of your life together only a few months ago, tiny (some would call it cramped, but you and Remus didn't think so) and a little bit weathered, but it was yours. It was home.

There were still a few half unpacked boxes laying around, but for the most part you’d settled in nicely. With that new home came a new routine too, with Remus juggling his jobs at the old secondhand bookshop down the road and handling the finances at Sirius’s auto garage. He came home late sometimes, exhausted and smelling of motor oil despite being cooped up in the back office all day.

“Rem!” You greeted him happily like you always when he stepped through the door, making your way over to where he was hanging his scarf on the coat hooks to hug him tightly.

It was always the highlight of his day, getting to come to you. His bones ached and he felt sticky and grimy, but then you kissed him and it suddenly didn’t feel like the worst thing in the world.

“Hi, love,” He replied softly, sinking into your embrace with closed eyes.

Your fingers curled into the hair at the nape of his neck, scratching gentle circles that had him melting just a little bit more. “How was your day?”

“Same as always. Paperwork, paperwork, more paperwork.” He pulled away from you, lacing his fingers through yours to tug you along behind him into the kitchen. “James brought by some Peruvian takeaway for lunch though, really good stuff—we should try it one day, I think you’d like it.”

“Oh! That reminds me, Lily rang earlier, asked if we had any time tomorrow to pop by theirs for something? She wouldn’t say what but I think she’s pregnant.”

Remus chuckled, amused. “What makes you say that?”

“Sirius said he could smell something different about her.”

“And you trusted him? He’s a knob.”

“He’s your best friend.”

“Still a knob.” He replied, pulling open the cupboard to grab a mug. “Tea?” He grabbed another one at your eager nod, busying himself with filling the kettle and setting it on the stove to boil.

You’d moved to the countertop in the meantime, socked feet swinging, thumping against the cupboards below with each movement. You were smiling warmly at him when he turned back to face you, watching him shuffle around the tiny kitchen like you’d never seen anything more interesting.

“What?”

“Nothing.” He arched a brow at you. “Nothing, I’m just…really happy. Here. With you. In our own home.”

Remus brightened noticeably, coming over to run a light hand down your arm until your fingers were intertwined. He brought it up to his lips and kissed your knuckles. “It’s nice, innit?”

“Everything’s nice with you.” You were quite aware of how sappy you sounded, but it was true. Just existing in the same space as Remus, sharing a space with him, was so lovely and comforting and everything you'd ever wanted. You traced along the scar bridging his nose, following it down his cheek until your arms found their home looped around his neck and you pulled him in even closer, kissing him softly.

He wasted no time kissing you back. He never did. Remus loved kissing you more than he loved a lot of things in this world, and he made sure you knew it with every single one.

Somewhere in the background you heard the kettle whistling over on the stove, but you didn’t really feel the need to pay it any mind. Not when he was kissing you like this, like he wanted to get lost in your touch, like he always did. It wasn’t until it started to annoy you that you splayed your palms against the soft wool of his jumper.

“You better get the kettle before it boils over.” You murmured against his mouth, barely giving him an inch of space between the two of you.

Letting out a gentle huff, Remus fumbled for his wand in the pocket of his trousers, pulling it out and mumbling an incantation under his breath with the flick of his wrist. The kettle fell silent. “Right, now where were we?”

“Pretty sure your mouth was on mine.”

“Ah yes, how could I ever forget?”

follow @katsu-library to be notified when i post a new fic :)

#remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin one shot #remus lupin fic #remus lupin fanfiction

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shiny-jr · 1 year

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how to steal a heart (I)

[ a dummy's guide on how to steal the heart of a poor pathetic man ]

- Warning: Yes, this is still a yandere thing. You have been warned. Female reader.

- Note: This has been an idea (heavily inspired by Howl's Moving Castle) I had in my docs since fall 2022. I was talking to a mutual about how writing on Tumblr vs Quotev feels very different. If I leave something unfinished on Quotev, I feel incredibly guilty which prevents me from posting new stories. However, on Tumblr, I don't feel as guilty. Not sure why. Anyways, I know most of my followers here don't care for my ocs, and I've been wanting to post this for so long. So instead of posting on Quotev, I'll post it on here just to get rid of the urge to share this story (might delete this later). This is the same story I posted that little screenshot of not too long ago, and that screenshot was basically just the prologue chapter. So yeah. Hope you enjoy?

IN WHICH THERE IS A SEAMSTRESS . . .

Black smoke concealed the window like a thick veil as the walls around her shook. It was a sure sign that the train was inching by. The screech from its whistle and clanking against the railroad tracks, so loud that it must’ve been heard over a mile away, only confirmed her guess. Her hands continued to cut smoothly through the linen fabric, separating enough to fulfill another order placed this morning. As the young woman worked to separate the colors and gather more material, the corner of her eyes caught sight of the smoke concealing her perfect view.

The train’s fading motion and clanging against the tracks was eventually replaced by chatter just outside her workshop. It all became background noise, as she began to utilize the sewing machine. Lines formed over the cloth, blending it and connecting so they formed an article of clothing. Needles, pins, and scissors cut and dug deep through the cloth. Buttons of all shapes and sizes were neatly organized in little boxes, so she could easily take what she needed. Time just seemed to fly as she worked so quietly and efficiently, oblivious to the hours ticking by. Any other noise fell on deaf ears, even as a knock resounded on the firm wooden door that happened to be wide open already.

A pause before the person tried again, knocking a little louder again. “(Y/n)?”

Snapping out of her efficient trance, the tailor snapped to attention and straightened her sitting posture. Gazing at the door and back the window where the sun was much lower than before, it took her a moment to figure out what exactly was going on and what time it was. It was later in the day, and the woman at the door was Dalena… Well, everyone called her Ma Dalena because she was a kind older lady who tended to see the young female tailors as her own children. At least, most of the tailors.

“We closed up five minutes ago. You can go now.” Ma Dalena gave an encouraging smile that displayed the dimples on her skin, showing signs of age evident by the wrinkles. Judging by her long dress and small woven handbag hanging from her wrist, it was probably safe to assume that she had evening plans. “Why not spend the rest of the day with us?”

Us. Correct she was again. As welcoming as the invitation was to join Ma Dalena and the other tailors, she wasn’t willing to join them anymore. Not after the first time when she dared to venture with them. After shifts, the tailors had a tradition of going out into town. Not that it was a bad thing. But they used their time cafe hopping, searching for flirtatious men to satisfy their need for affection. Oftentimes, they would get caught up with the pushy kind. And ever since some troops from the military have returned from their duties, well… encountering a bunch of men who hadn’t felt the touch of a woman in months, was not ideal. At least for her.

Taking her foot off the pedal to pause her work and silence the sewing machine, she pretended to consider the invitation before mustering a polite smile with a shake of her head. “Hm… It sounds nice. But I promised the client I would finish this so they can pick it up tomorrow. So I’ll stay, but have fun. Have another drink in my place, alright?”

Ma Dalena merely nodded in understanding, her polite smile turning somber as she turned on her two-inch heels and began walking to the front entrance. The chatter of the other tailors ready and eager for the rest of the day off, went quiet as she announced, “We’re leaving now. Hurry now if you’re coming!”

The chatter resumed, accompanied by the sound of more heels tapping quickly against the wooden floors in an effort for the straying members to catch up with the group. They complimented each other's outfits they spent days making by hand, discussing various fashion trends, gossiping about clients and others in town.

In a way, she did and she didn’t regret accepting the invitation. It may have been nice to have good company for once, but it never felt right when she was present within their clique. It was as if she were trying to forcefully add a puzzle piece to an already complete puzzle, which is why she stopped forcing it. She wouldn’t want to sit there awkwardly during tea, unsure what to say as they spoke so confidently and loudly. It felt as if she were an imposter, someone trying to disguise themselves to blend in. It was why she worked in a small separate room, away from everyone else. That, and because she was the fastest tailor there. Part of her wondered if Ma Dalena was beginning to dislike her since she turned down invitation after invitation. But how was she to explain what she was feeling, when it would only sound like whining?

Drowning out her thoughts with work to occupy the space in her mind, she pressed her foot against the pedal and began sewing once more. The loud hum of the machine filled her ears as it worked against the red cloth under her fingertips. This was the way it was supposed to be. Mindlessly spending her waking hours working at a craft she didn’t excel at, but was decent enough to earn wages in. All while wondering what could’ve been, and secretly hoping that maybe soon there is something that can be––

“Look! Look out there! It’s Reyes’ temple!”

“Reyes?!”

“Where? I don’t see it!”

“There! Over the hill!”

Now that was something you don’t see everyday. Everyone retreated back to the window, desperate to catch a glimpse, even Ma Dalena. Halting her work once again, (Y/n) too was the tiniest bit curious.

In truth, magicians failed to interest her, not that she had an opportunity to see them much anyways. But all those in Etére knew to be cautious of two particular magic wielders: La Bruja de Bruez, the Witch of Bruez, and Reyes Ladrón de Corazones, Reyes the Thief of Hearts. The pair were like the local boogeymen, tales of their horrendous deeds spreading and becoming bedtime stories for children in order to scare them into good behavior.

Ever since her youth, she heard stories of La Bruja de Bruez. It was said that she was a wicked woman who’s lived for over a hundred years. A slight against her is taken seriously, and she curses those she comes across. But she was no mere fairytale. The witch has been a thorn in the country’s side for a long time, as she terrorizes the towns she visits. There hasn’t been much action taken against her, because she’s so powerful that hardly anyone stands a chance and she’s so elusive. Besides, the royal family don’t particularly care if the witch curses a random citizen every month or so, as long as they don’t have to risk pawns in their own arsenal of magicians just to take her down.

Only a few years ago, a second magician with fearsome spells and a horrible reputation, appeared. Reyes Ladrón de Corazones, or more commonly known as Reyes, was another brujo many feared, although not as much as his counterpart from Bruez. There were rumors, yes, but they were more lighthearted with little evidence to ever back up the claims. While the Bruja de Bruez spared no one, it was said that Reyes chose to pursue only young beautiful women. If you asked around town, half of the population would consider him a threat, while the other half would giggle and whisper about his rumored good looks. Maybe that’s how he lured them in? With charms. Either way, he was a cause for concern. It was said that at a young age after abandoning his position as apprentice under the royal sorceress, the most powerful known magician, he not only challenged her but won and stripped her of her powers. Of course, no one can neither confirm nor deny it, as the king kept a tight lid on the situation and supposedly those who approach Reyes meet a terrible fate. But his abode was proof enough of his sheer strength. It was like a castle, a temple wandering on mechanical legs, rumored to not only be fueled by magic but also made of it.

Through the mist and low hanging clouds, just over the rolling hills on the horizon she could make out the distinct shape of a temple. A magnificent temple that appears so small from so far away. But she knew that it was a beast, a titan wandering the wilderness where very few dared to venture. It prowled around on its mechanical legs, spewing black smoke as the only trail it left behind. Reyes’ moving temple disappeared behind the clouds, seemingly vanishing from sight. Onlookers within the tailor shop could only awe and wonder aloud what the brujo was like, what was true and what was not, their minds creating horrible fears and outlandish fantasies that would take root as rumors.

Lowering her gaze back to her work, she resumed once more, but the rumors overpowered the hum of her machine until their words reached her. The other tailors proceeded back to the front entrance, marveling about what they just witnessed. Was he hiding from soldiers practicing their flights just outside the town? Did you hear that he literally steals the hearts of women, but only beautiful ones? Someone said that a pretty waitress on the other side of town had her own heart torn out and stolen by Reyes just last week!

The door was shut and she was alone, left with her work and the noise outside. Swiftly she worked, able to repair tears and wears with ease and create other things. Able to get lost in the work for much longer, until she felt the ground shake and the screech of another whistle. The afternoon train. It’s smoke covering her window once again. It was getting late already. Not wishing to waste the rest of the day by continuing work or go to bed with a book she had already read twice, she switched off the machine and organized all the tools back into their places. Brushing off all stray strings from her dress, she then rearranged her completed work thus far and prepared to have a different kind of day.

Today, she would try to make it a can be sort of day. Even if it meant just visiting a close friend like Lía at the bakery. Just putting out the effort to go out today was more than she was usually willing. Although wishing it would be something special, a proper can be day without even trying, was like wishing to be acknowledged by a person you admire but never once talked to, it was much like winging it on a test without studying and praying you would get a perfect score even though knowing that it’s almost near impossible. But it isn’t statistically completely impossible, so you cling to that thin shred of hope that’s as taut as a piece of string.

The whirring of small planes buzzed overhead, the flying machines brandishing their flags like the proud and numerous soldiers. On nearly every home and business, there was the flag hanging over the door, a symbol of patriotism and support of the war effort. (Y/n) quickly crossed the streets and reached the trolley station that would take her further into town. Right now there was not a soldier in sight, but that was sure to change the closer to the center of town she got. She only prayed that there wouldn’t be any trouble with them.

The trolleys were full, people all going towards the center of town, in the same direction the planes overhead flew towards. If she had to guess, most of the people within the trolley were likely friends or family of returning soldiers. All giddy from the victory high of a major battle just won.

While watching the scenery go by, she wondered how Lía was fairing.

It was because of Lía and her family that she now worked in a tailor shop. (Y/n)’s parents had met an unfortunate end while traveling outside the kingdom. They were doctors dedicated to a good cause, determined to stay in dangerous war torn lands to heal and treat the poorest of folks. While she was busy with school and often alone but checked on by family friends, her parents were saving people an ocean away in a faraway land where Milavi’s war had spread. They had been too close to Milavi claimed territory, likely mistaken for doctors healing rebels, and were thus punished for their good deeds. With no one left to turn to, her family’s closest friend, Señor Obregón, adopted (Y/n) and treated her as one of his own.

Señor Obregón was a quiet but respectable man that spent his time either working or with his family. He was the one that taught her how to sew, knit, and tailor, after she became curious of his skills. There were two other girls, Lía and Cova, a few years younger than (Y/n), which is why she became the oldest sibling. Lía was the beauty admired all throughout their childhood and still beloved to this day. She most resembled her mother, but she wasn’t half as vain. Cova was the youngest and somehow the smartest, as she was able to quickly grasp the concepts from lessons even in (Y/n)’s class, despite being a few grade levels apart. She mostly resembled her father and his own wits. Then there was her, (Y/n), who had… whatever was left. Of course she never held any resentment toward her sisters, since they were always well behaved but perhaps a bit annoying with their squabbles. Lastly, was Señora Obregón, Rosita, who she just called Tia Rosa for short, was never rude or dismissive to her. Tia Rosa was actually very outgoing and talkative, but she was the sort of woman that wouldn’t be caught dead wearing something from last season. She desired the finer things in life and settled for no less, which is probably why Señor Obregón ended up in an early grave due to working himself to death just to try and afford the luxuries his wife craved.

Immediately after the funeral, while they were still dressed head-to-toe in black and their eyes were puffy from crying, Rosita sat all three of her daughters for a conversation about the future. It would be impossible for her to keep them all in school, especially considering she hadn’t worked a day in her life. However, she wasn’t cruel enough to just toss her young girls out into the streets with nowhere to go. So, she devised a plan for each girl. Cova would be able to best utilize her smarts in a challenging field full of promise, which is why she was sent to a good witch in the next town over, to become an apprentice in magic. Lía was already very popular around town, she would thrive in a social environment like the bakery on main street where to this day men constantly asked for her hand. As for her, (Y/n), she would stay here in Obregón’s tailor shop, where Tia Rosa deemed was best fit. Afterall, she did know how to carry on the business, she had even helped their reputation grow substantially as more people came in every day and profits increased. Although, she hardly had the time to spend the earnings on herself, that’s what Tia Rosa was there for. Rather, never there for. She’d collect earnings from the business (Y/n) ran and would disappear for weeks or months at a time to another town or city. But that's besides the point…

By now, the trolley she was on was near the center of town that happened to be within blocks away, the streets became crowded with people walking on foot. On roads below bridges, there were lines of military tanks rolling by. Not much further in, the sidewalks were jam packed with hundreds, upon thousands, of people. Confetti rained down, banners and flags were strung from every corner and door. Every window was occupied as citizens cheered and waved at the parade of temporary victors, a show of military strength. Soldiers in their crisp uniforms marched in unified lines, cavalry on horseback carried large flags.

As the density of the crowds increased, and the volume of cheers and the parade along with it, she felt her heart beat louder. This was too much, it was too loud, she couldn’t even think…! But she had come this far, to go back home now when she was so close would be a little pathetic. Avoiding the commotion like a plague, she decided it best to take the maze of alleyways to calm her nerves. There were hardly any people on those backstreets, just the occasional stationed soldier. Focusing her gaze on the war propaganda posters on the brick and clay walls underneath window boxes filled with colorful flowers, she pretended to carefully study them as she increased her pace from a calm stroll to a quick speed walk, examining the items as if they were the most fascinating objects she ever saw. Really, she’d rather not make awkward eye contact with the soldiers on guard that watched her like a hawk, which is why she hurried along until they were out of sight.

Now that she was alone, with the crowds and their entertainment separated from her by walls of homes and businesses, she felt relief as the once loud sounds melted into background noise. For now she could concentrate on the address scribbled out on the folded piece of paper in her hands, and her anxiety could be replaced with confusion as she attempted to navigate these small hidden paths. This was only the second time she was on this path, since (Y/n) barely had time to ever go out due to work and her own incompetence. The first was on a holiday some weeks ago when the shop closed early, which granted her a few hours to venture on the main roads to the bakery where her friend worked. This was the second time, and she’s never taken the back roads, which was why she couldn’t tell left from right here.

Just in time, she looked up from her note to stop her feet from moving, as she came face-to-face with an obstacle. It wasn’t another dead end, this obstacle wore clothing and golden pins, and had a head that could easily look down from his height and see the top of her hat. Immediately she stiffened up and took a step back, hesitantly forcing her eyes to look up at the smiling soldier that casually leaned against the wall.

The young man only appeared amused as she jumped a step back in surprise. (Y/n) noticed that delighted sparkle in his eyes, as if her skittish self and startled reaction was his entertainment for the afternoon. Before she could open her mouth to mutter an apology and force her head down to continue ahead, the man leaned just a few inches closer to get a better look at her face hidden by the rim of her colorfully embroidered sun hat. “Huh, just like a mouse. Are you lost?”

A mouse… A skittish field mouse. Would that then make him a rat or a predator? Holding her tongue so not as to speak her mind, she merely shook her head. Offending a soldier would not be good. Not that she had the confidence to say the quick comeback that came to mind anyways. “No… I’m not lost.” That was a lie.

The young soldier persisted, refusing to move off the path as he continued to block her way. “You look lost. Say, what do you say to an invitation to tea? Afterwards, we can go over directions and escort you to where you’re heading.” Even his partner in patrol, an older gentleman, also a soldier but likely more experienced by at least a few years, moved from his post and approached in curiosity.

As the second man stepped closer, she could distinctly hear his polished shoes tapping in a steady rhythm as he stood beside his friend. Her own heart rate easily outpaced his steps, and it wasn’t increasing due to excitement, it was due to growing unease. Yes, she knew rationally that these soldiers likely meant no harm and merely wanted to flirt, but her mind could only conjure up the worst possible scenarios as she reminded herself that they outnumbered her, they were stronger, and they had their long firearms strapped to their backs. Keeping her head down, she replied, “Thank you, but no. I’m supposed to be meeting up with someone.”

Just like the first did, the second soldier bent down a bit to peer at her features. Just like his accomplice, he wore an amused smile as he shook his head and remarked. “A mouse? That’s not very nice. Don’t worry, you’re much better than a simple little mouse.”

Rolling his eyes, the younger soldier only continued, “If you’re old enough to drink, we can go to a bar if that’s more your style? Do you live around here?”

This was getting ridiculous. Did they never learn to accept rejection? No means no, even children could comprehend that. But for now, she was at their mercy, no one would come to help her here. It would be up to them to decide she was no use for any fun and let her go, or continue to persist for their selfish desires. “No. Please let me pass.”

Barely phased by her firm reply, the younger of the two turned to his partner and scoffed, “See? I told you the girls don’t like the beard you’re growing out. It scares them.”

It’s as if her plea went through one ear and out the other, not swaying them in even the slightest bit. The older gentleman merely rubbed the stubble on his chin, “It makes me look better. Besides, I’m sure she doesn’t mind. She might even prefer a man with facial hair.” Actually, the word gentleman did not describe him well.

In that moment she was wondering, would she truly risk it all just to snap back in reply? It must’ve felt so satisfying, but was it necessary? Later, would she come to regret her decision or revel in it? Would she seriously use this sprouting frustration, minimal not only compared to her current fears but also in the grand scheme of things, to temporarily push past her anxiety and say something…? Probably not. As annoying as these men were, like the constant buzz of a pestersome fly, they hadn’t caused any harm except to waste a bit of her precious free time.

“Ah, there you are, mi corazón. I was worried about you.” A smooth and silky voice interrupted.

#yandere #yandere guy #yandere story #yandere male #yandere imagines #yandere oc #yandere x darling #yandere x you #yandere x y/n #yandere x reader #yandere writing #yandere fic #yandere oc x reader #yandere oc x you #yandere oc x y/n #yandere original character #how to steal a heart

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heavenlyhischier · 1 year

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𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐰𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐞 - 𝐣𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐡𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐬 (𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭)

one two three

word count: 3.7k

chapter summary: a little game of truth or dare never hurt anyone, right?

warnings: mild angst, cursing, drinking, steamy makeout session and build up to smut- nothing overly detailed but i still suggest you do not engage if you're a minor, unedited

notes: here is the final part everyone! thank you guys very much for all of the love i've received for this. it means so much to me and im a lil sad that it's over. feel free to send in any requests if you'd like ◡̈

The past week, your relationship with Jack was on the mend and things were nearly back to normal again. Conversations weren’t tense and the air around you wasn’t awkward and uncomfortable like it was before, but the two of you had still yet to talk about what happened. Quinn had done the unfortunate honors of interrupting your moment on the dock the day Natalie left, and truthfully, you’ve been avoiding being alone with him since.

Jack knew that, too. He noticed the way you would rush off if you saw him approaching you when you were alone. He noticed the way that you would insert yourself into a conversation you weren’t previously in when he tried to pull you away. He especially noticed that, despite the room across from him being empty, you remained in his brother's room, and that was what made his chest burn the most. He let his mind wander towards thoughts that made him feel as if the world was swallowing him whole.

The fire blazed in front of you, illuminating the group as they shared stories and their laughter echoed across the lake and through the trees. These were the moments that you cherished the most because it was one of the few times where you all got to forget about the stress of life and simply be. For a night, your worries and heartaches were let go and replaced by the feelings of content and happiness.

“Are you ever going to talk to him,” Luke nudged you, tearing your gaze away from Jack who had his head thrown back in laughter after Trevor had spilled his beer on himself.

“I want to, but I’m scared,” You spoke quietly, not wanting the others to hear. You gazed up at the younger boy, his eyes slightly glazed over and unfocused.

“Of what,” He prodded.

“I don’t know. Not being able to hide how I really feel about him,” You mumbled, bracing yourself for the stupid grin that was undoubtedly going to break out on his face as you finally admitted the one thing he had been trying for the last week.

He did, in fact, let a big teasing grin form on his face as he took a sip of his beer in an attempt to shield it from the others. You turned your focus to your lap, a light blush creeping onto your cheeks, while Luke met his brother’s burning stare from across the fire, raising his eyebrows and subtly jerking his head in your direction. Jack pulled his brow together in confusion, letting his stare find you for the hundredth time that night.

You felt his eyes on you before you found them, and when you did it was hard to fight the shy smile that formed on your face. He was looking at you like you were the only person there, ignoring the others as they yelled around him. A gentle smile of his own formed on his lips as he watched you pull your bottom lip between your teeth and bashfully look away from him. It gave him hope that maybe, just maybe, you felt something more for him.

“I’m going to get more to drink,” You announced as you stood, “Anyone want anything?”

“I’ll come with you,” Trevor yelled over everyone else, Alex wincing since he was sitting right next to him.

You briefly glanced at Jack, noticing that his lips were tugged into a slight frown as he now stared at the fire. He had the same look on his face that he had when you told him that you were seeing someone from school, and you couldn’t help but let yourself read into the situation a little bit. You let the thought that maybe he was jealous wander in your mind, but Trevor throwing his arm around you and dragging you to the house distracted you from that.

“I don’t know how you drink that shit,” He wrinkled his nose as you poured the wine into your cup, “It’s so bitter.”

“You’re bitter,” You playfully rolled your eyes, placing the bottle back on the rack.

The two of you fell into a lapse of silence as he grabbed beers for the others, but you could tell he wanted to say something. Trevor was a man of many, many words, and while him offering to come inside wasn’t unusual, you could tell he had an ulterior motive.

“So,” Trevor dragged out as he stopped what he was doing to stare at you, “Can you do me a favor?”

“What’s that, Z,” You quirked an eyebrow, sipping your drink.

“Can you please talk to Jack,” He groaned, leaning across the center island to grab your free hand, “If I have to listen to him bitch about you ignoring him and sleeping in Luke’s room for the fourth night in a row I think I’m going to kill him.”

You couldn’t help but let out a laugh at the way Trevor looked truly distressed, his pleading eyes staring up at you and lips pulled into a pout. Shaking your head at the boy in front of you, you leaned over the counter so that you were eye level with him, his hand remaining tightly gripped with your own. With it just being the two of you, you didn’t feel the need to hide the defeated look as you prepared yourself to speak.

“I’m not ready to talk to him yet. I just- I need time to let myself get over how I feel about him first,” You explained, your voice slightly cracking towards the end.

“Or, get this, you could tell him how you feel,” He tried, giving you a goofy, teasing smile as he cocked his head to the side.

Rolling your eyes at the boy for a second time, “I think I’d rather die than ever embarrass myself like that.”

“What if I told you that you wouldn’t embarrass yourself,” He goaded, “What if I told you that it might work out.”

Your breath caught in your throat, causing you to lightly cough as you regain your composure. You searched for any trace of deception on his face, but were met only with his unwavering determination.

“I’d tell you that you’re way too drunk, Zegras,” You nervously chuckled, letting his hand fall onto the counter and backing away from him, “Let’s go back outside before they think we’re doing something we shouldn’t be.”

You grabbed your drink and a few of the beers that Trevor had pulled out of the fridge before rushing back outside. Trevor’s words were ringing in your ears as you slightly stumbled down the path. They gave you a sense of hope, but you had to remind yourself that he was drunk and he was more than likely exaggerating what he was saying.

Settling back into the seat next to Luke, Cole had suggested that everyone play a game of truth or dare. Despite the protests of the game being “too childish”, the boys delved right into it as soon as it began. There was no particular order they were going in, but the results had been quite chaotic so far. Quinn had stripped down to his underwear and jumped into the lake, Trevor had gone into utmost detail about his most embarrassing sex experience, and Alex had to shotgun the random can of four loko that was hidden at the back of the fridge.

Alex called out your name next, “Truth or dare?” He was wiggling his eyebrows as he waited for you to pick, and you’re now regretting agreeing to play along.

“Truth,” You chose as you brought your drink to your lips, “I don’t trust you guys enough to pick dare.”

“Lame,” He teasingly scoffed, “Have you ever hooked up with anyone here?”

“Jesus fuck, Alex,” Quinn choked on his drink, hand coming to wipe at the spilled contents of his beer.

The others fell silent, all eyes trained on you as they awaited your response. Jack’s stare was burning holes into your skull, and it was taking everything in you to not look at him. The once lighthearted air was turning tense the longer you took, but you didn’t want to admit the truth out loud. The boys would never let you hear the end of it, and you didn’t want Jack to take it the wrong way. You were debating on lying, but you were a terrible liar when you were sober and an even worse one when you weren’t.

“It wasn’t a hookup,” You murmured. You couldn’t help but let your eyes flick towards Trevor whose gaze was now focused on the ground in front of him.

It wasn’t but a few seconds later that the sound of the chair scraping against the gravel grabbed your attention. Jack had tossed his beer into the fire before storming into the house, the boys watching with gloomy and worried stares. You ignored Luke’s call for you as you scrambled to your feet, knocking over your cup and letting its contents spill on the ground as you ran inside. The fear of being alone with him now long forgotten as you followed him.

“Jack,” You called out as you reached the top of the stairs, “Jack, please stop.”

He paused outside his bedroom door, spinning around to face you. The look he was giving you had you tripping over your own feet and rethinking your decision to follow after him. He was looking at you as if you had broken some sacred, yet undeclared law and he would never forgive you for it.

“Jack, I’m sorry,” You weakly let out, eyes brimming with tears.

“You’re sorry,” He scoffed as he shook his head, “You’re sorry that you what? That you hooked up with my best friend or sorry that you’ve been sleeping with my brother?”

“What,” You gasped, knitting your brows together, “I’m not sleeping with Luke. And I didn’t hook up with Trevor! We kissed. Once. We were both drunk and sad and just there. It was gross and weird and both of us just wanted to act like it never happened.”

“Why wouldn’t you tell me? Why wouldn’t either of you tell me,” He yelled, betrayal and hurt laced in his voice as he stepped closer to you. Jack was close enough to you now that you could see the uncried tears lining his own eyes, and your chest tightened. You’ve never seen him look so utterly defeated before, not even when he had injured his shoulder and was out for a few games. Knowing you were the cause of that broke you in ways you never thought possible.

“Because we were seventeen and didn’t think it was important enough. Nothing was going to come out of it,” You shakily spoke through the tears that were streaming down your cheeks, “It doesn’t even matter, Jack. It was five years ago!”

“It does matter,” He whispered, your name coming out of his mouth in strained cracks as his eyes dragged over your face, “It matters to me, and you don’t even know why.”

Breath catching in your throat, your jaw slacked as you failed to form any coherent words. Your heart was beating so loud that you could hear it in your ears, and lungs struggling to let air in. You didn’t trust yourself enough to speak anymore, fearful that you were going to say yet another thing that was going to further alter your relationship with Jack.

“Why are you staying in Luke’s room,” He changed the subject, taking another step closer to you, “Why are you still sleeping in his bed? Your room’s empty, but yo-“

“Because you let another girl sleep in there, Jack,” You harshly snapped, shaking your head as your vision blurred with tears, “You ignored me for weeks and when I finally saw you again, you were giving my room to someone else.”

“Because I was trying to move on,” He yelled, eyes softening as you slightly flinched at his raised voice, “I was trying to move on from you, and I fucked up everything. I thought being with Natalie was going to help me forget about how I felt about you, and I know that’s shity of me. But then I saw you leaving Luke’s room that day and I didn’t know what to do. I thought you two were- I thought you were together and I was angry at you, but mostly at myself.”

You whispered his name, tasting the salt from your tears on your lips as your tongue swiped across them. Your skin was crawling with nerves as you took in all that Jack said, watching as he scoffed to himself and turned away from you. His hands came to rub at his face while yours nervously grasped at your sides, the silence that now surrounded the both of you becoming suffocating.

“I am sorry, for everything,” He rushed out as he nervously paced across the hallway, “I shouldn’t have ever treated you the way that I did, and I will spend however long doing whatever it takes for you to forgive me. And if Trevor is- If you have feelings for him, I totally support that, okay. I’ll be happy for you.”

His voice was strained as if he was forcing himself to say that he would be happy for you if you decided it was his best friend you wanted to be with. You couldn’t help but let out an almost silent laugh at the idea of being with Trevor in a romantic capacity. The mere thought alone is what caused the two of you to forget about your shared kiss all those years ago, and that feeling never changed. You viewed him in the same light as all of the other boys, except for the one standing right in front of you.

“Jack,” You reached out and gently grabbed his forearm, pulling him towards you, “I don’t have feelings for Trevor. I have feelings for you.” You hoped to God that you weren’t misreading the situation.

“You do,” He breathed, stepping into your space so that your chests were nearly touching.

“I do.”

His face was illuminated by only the light that slipped through the window at the end of the hall, yet you could still see him so clearly. His bright eyes bore into your own, dancing across your face as he memorized the curves of your lips and the slope of your nose. Your heart raced as you waited for him to make a move, any move to ease the stampede of nerves that lit fires on your skin.

Jack’s nose nudged against your own, his soft lips ghosting over yours as he tested the waters to see if you were going to pull away. When you didn’t, his hands cupped both of your cheeks and drew you in, your lips crashing together in a kiss you’ve been waiting a lifetime for.

Your hands balled his shirt in your fists in an attempt to steady yourself as he kissed you harder, deeper than you had ever been kissed before. His hand slipped to the base of your neck as his tongue slipped into your mouth, gentle yet demanding as he slowly walked you backwards until you came in contact with the wall. You’re not sure how much time had passed when he was pulling away from you, but you were certain that it was too soon.

“You taste like your strawberry wine,” He playfully pointed out, trying to catch his breath.

“You taste like your nasty beer,” You hummed as you peered up at him through your lashes, devouring the moments as they came.

His laughter reverberated across the hallway as his fingers hooked through the belt loops of your shorts, pulling your hips into his own. His thumbs snuck underneath your shirt, softly brushing over the bare skin on your stomach. You shiver as his thumbs leave a trail of goosebumps in their wake, his name falling from your lips in a pathetic beg as you carefully yanked his face back to yours. The moment you said his name, his lips were on yours again.

Your lips molded with his in a way that has you questioning why you’d ever kissed anyone before. None of them fit against you the way he did, and you never wanted to go back now that you had a taste of what it was like. You gently tug at the hair in the nape of his neck, and he groans against your mouth while his hands roughly squeezed your hips.

“If you do that again, I won’t be able to stop myself,” He mumbled against you.

“Who said I wanted you to stop?”

His lips reattached themselves to yours, hands coming to grab the back of your thighs and squeezing them as a way to signal for you to wrap them around his hips. Your mouth worked against his as he walked you through the door of the empty room, kicking it closed behind him. He carefully laid you on the mattress, one of his hands coming to press against the bed and the other cradling your jaw. His mouth moved down your jaw and down to your neck, a moan escaping your mouth as he gently nipped at the sensitive skin.

Your fingers pull at his hair as he explores your neck with his mouth, and it feels as if you’re melting into the mattress when his hand slips underneath your shirt. You could feel something hard pressing against your thigh, and before you know it, you’re reaching for the hem of his shirt and tugging it off his body.

He pulls away from you, eyes soft as they dart across your face, “Are you sure about this? We don’t have to do anything.”

“I want to,” You reassured him.

You softly grasp his jaw in your hand, tilting his head as your tongue dragged across his neck. Jack let out a soft whimper as you discovered that spot, his eyes screwing shut in rapture. He let you work for a little longer before he was yanking your own shirt off and guiding you to the top of the bed. He smashed his lips with yours, your hands grabbing at his back to pull him closer to you. Jack, however, was using his free hand to undo the clasp of your bra.

Sensing your next move, Jack grabs your wrists as you try to cover yourself once your chest was exposed. He withdrew from you, a smirk on his face as he began placing soft, open mouthed kisses down your body. You squirm underneath him, the ball in your stomach growing the closer he got to your center. Jack stopped once he got to your waistband, index finger tapping your skin to get your attention.

You propped your head up, meeting his stare as he hovered in between your thighs. The sight of him peering up at you made the already damp pool between your legs worsen. He was silently asking you if it was okay to keep going, and all you could manage was a nod before throwing your head back onto the pillow. He dragged your shorts and underwear down your legs; his own coming off shortly after.

Your heart beat so fast that you thought it was going to burst out of your chest as Jack reappeared above you. He placed a delicate kiss to your lips as he carefully pressed into you. The sound you let out was like music to his ears, and he never wanted to stop listening to it.

Meanwhile, Quinn is rejoining the group of boys who are still sitting around the fire. They watch as he opens a new beer, throwing his head back as he chugs the drink. “Did you find them,” It was Luke who spoke first, eyeing the way his brother rubbed a hand across his face.

“I wish I didn’t,” Quinn cringed, crumbling the already empty can in his hands.

Trevor was the first to catch on, his laughter echoing throughout the trees as he clutched at his stomach. It wasn’t too long after that the other boys joined in, except for Quinn who was still trying to remove the sounds he heard from his head.

“At least Jack will stop bitching now,” Cole playfully pointed out followed by a round of amused agreements.

Soft pants filled the room, your skin sticky with sweat as you rolled off Jack and onto the bed. The room spun around you as you came down from the euphoria that flowed through your veins. You had your eyes closed while you basked in the feeling of what had just occurred between the two of you, not ready to give it up quite yet.

Jack slipped his arm underneath you and pulled you into his side, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple. “I meant what I said earlier,” He started, “I’m going to do whatever it takes for you to forgive me.”

“Jack, I think my screaming your name over and over again means you’re already forgiven,” You teased, tracing your fingers across his chest.

“While I thoroughly enjoyed it, like very very thoroughly enjoyed that,” You lightly slap his chest, “What I did still isn’t okay, and I will make it up to you. Because I love you.”

Your movements stuttered as his words echoed in your brain, but you were quick to gather yourself because you knew Jack well enough to know that his internal alarm bells were already ringing at your physical response.

Flattening your hand on his chest, you pushed yourself up so that you were looking down at him. “I love you, too. I have for a while.”

You bent down, capturing his lips with your own for what felt like the hundredth time that night. Yet, even then, you felt like no matter how many times you were able to kiss Jack, it would never be enough. He didn’t let you get far when you pulled away, yanking you back down so your head was on his chest.

“So,” He began, dragging the word out a little more than necessary, “Am I a better kisser than Trevor?”

“Oh my god.”

tags: @cherrylipscrystal-skies

#jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes #nhl #nhl imagine #new jersey devils #luke hughes #trevor zegras #quinn hughes #alex turcotte #cole caufield

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drdemonprince · 1 month

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to the anon who sent me the message that took them 4 hours to draft.

I think your experience both with organizing and disability has probably provoked you to rethink the entire concept of "success" as our culture has defined it, even if you feel yourself still longing for some of the comfort and ease that capitalistic success can seemingly provide (or that we are conditioned to believe it can provide). im not sure what to say that can match the effort your put into your message, in fact i am galled by the fact that i know that i can't match that effort. i don't know how to make sense of the fact that a person who is finding it incredibly difficult to remain connected and engaged during this time, due to disability, has decided that i was worth that level of effort when they don't have the energy to message people they know. i don't think i am worth that effort. but i also respect that mired in all that you're mired in, it's a meaningful gesture toward engagement and connection to even bother writing such a message. i just think in a lot of ways i am a misplaced target for it, because i am a ridiculously privileged and publicly exposed individual who receives dozens of heartfelt messages that he doesnt find the time to respond to every single day. i think if anything that i've written rubs you the wrong way you'd be right to approach it with cynicism. because what the fuck do i know, banging around on my laptop every day and getting paid for it. how dare i lecture anybody about not unlearning capitalism adequately enough. i am one of capitalisms little milking cows. a massive publishing company makes a weekly profit off of me, off the byproduct of the worst years of my life and my worst traumas, as well as the meaning i've made from the scholarship of others.

i'm so enraged for you that you got a debilitating case of COVID (after several other cases) on an encampment, and that now the community you foster at that encampment is not there for you. i am disgusted at how more seasoned activists and organizations have regarded student protestors as disposable this entire year, selling them out to the cops, cutting bad deals with campus administration, and sending them to yellow and red risk level actions without adequate communication and getting them kettled and beat, or else nullifying their efforts with mealy-mouthed talk about keeping things peaceful. i see so many toothless, neoliberal protests happening here, ones that serve only as fundraisers for massive nonprofit orgs, and i also see literal teenagers being dragged right into paddy wagons by the likes of the PSL or the RCP while the Dems deride them and dance to Brat tracks, not even pretending to care the way they unconvincingly did in say 2020.

It's all making me terribly cynical, wondering where we are headed and whether i can or should encourage people who are younger, stronger, more energetic, more pliable, and more vulnerable to me to give up all that they've got for a cause when it's likely gonna be chewed up and spit out and not met in effort by anyone else. i am mournful of the fact that even i can't match that effort. every time i get a message from a friend or acquaintance who is going through some new awful traumatizing event i want to just curl up and disappear, because i can't even keep up with sending compassionate messages to all of them, let alone actually showing the fuck up and doing anything for them. and so sometimes i slip into the disaffected, blunted feeling that once led me as a younger man into libertarianism, thinking that all i can or should do is look after my own wellbeing, and fuck everybody else. and obviously that is a horrible path that is not by any means moral and certainly didn't help me anyway. it felt like we were on the brink of a great paradigm shift of some kind, a collapse of these evil systems, and now it feels like all of that is as far away as it's ever been, and that there aren't enough people with class consciousness and care for one another to make it happen.

i don't know. i think we all have to abandon our dreams of success, of comfort, of saving the world, the fantasies of everything being fine. i think we need to look to our immediate surroundings and our communities. i think we need to ask for help a whole hell of a lot more than any of us are doing, and to recognize that that is a form of helping. i think we need to get small. and remember we are weak animals. and stop thinking there is anything special or chosen about us. and to remember that nature can often be very cruel and that there is nothing we are owed. disabled people already know this of course, we know life isn't fair. we try to do what we can and yet we wake up feeling even less capable the next day, and it knows no logic and the universe remains indifferent to it. but there are people around us who can care, when we ask them to. and ways that we can just be there alongside one another in the muck of it all. not even necessarily making things better. certainly not being a savior and making the pain go away. maybe just sitting in the muck together.

all of which is to say, i am feeling stuck and overwhelmed and useless myself, anon, and i dont have any more answers than you. but thanks for messaging. im sorry people have taking advantage of you. including in my opinion lots of other activists. looking after yourself and not letting people guilt you doesn't mean turning into a conservative. the kind of anarchy that i am embracing right now is one that goes beyond linear change, beyond making meaning, beyond any idealistic visions of the future, beyond even fighting for some kind of symbolic survival. it's just being. none of it has to mean anything, none of it has to be headed anywhere. it just is. there is plenty for you to be bitter about.

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hier--soir · 5 months

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feb + mar + apr reads

norma jean baker of troy by anne carson [★★★★★]

"Sometimes I think language should cover its own eyes when it speaks."

"Is she human? Are you? Is she a beast out of control? There's so much danger. No human can become just a beast, you plunge beyond - beyond what? Remember Jack the Ripper? 'I'm down on whores and I shan't quit ripping them till I get buckled,' Jack wrote in a letter to the newspaper, September 18, 1888. He never did get buckled. Of course insane, his mind blooming with it, who could go down that rabbit-hole or unlock such a puzzle as Jack? - but still, the woman! the thing is! the woman has everything and you smile and you take some."

: ̗̀➛ an exploration of the lives and myths of marilyn monroe and helen of troy.

: ̗̀➛ anne carson is there anything you can't do? please email me back. please.

piglet by lottie hazell [★★★★]

"'I want to make some food,' she said. 'For both of us?' he asked. 'No, just for me.'"

: ̗̀➛ one woman, piglet, and the lead up to her wedding in the face of a big confession from her fiancé.

: ̗̀➛ this one slipped beneath my skin and writhed around the spot inside me where i've tucked away all of my food issues.

merciless gods by christos tsiolkas [★★]

"I'm scared that if I let go, not only the room, not only this city, but the whole world will go cold forever."

"Your false gods cannot save you. There is only one God, my God."

: ̗̀➛ short stories that bash you over the head with how awful things and people and places can be. i did not live for this one... particularly wasn't into the one where a guy jerked his dad who has alzheimers off.

foe by iain reid [★★]

"All day. Time keeps moving. I've always thought that was a good thing. Until recently. I'm not so sure now. Is it good? For time to go by fast?"

: ̗̀➛ they want to send junior to space and replace him with a robot that looks and acts and talks exactly like him so his wife has company in his absence.

: ̗̀➛ marriage and trust and complacency, and a guy called terrence who we get reminded over and over has long gorgeous hair.

: ̗̀➛ a little boring for my taste. i had an idea of where it was going pretty early on, and it took a while for me to be proven right. pretty disconcerting!

acts of desperation by megan nolan [★★★★]

"The need was a true and human part of me, but I could feel nothing else of myself to be true or human, and so the need seemed ungodly, an aberration."

: ̗̀➛ a book full of confession, desire, jealousy, violence, and power. messy messy messy!!!! readers procceed with caution.

: ̗̀➛ shout out to everyone who said i should read this - you were right, it is up my alley.

gone girl by gillian flynn [★★★★]

"My wife was no longer my wife but a razor-wire knot daring me to unloop her, and I was not up to the job with my thick, numb, nervous fingers. Country fingers. Flyover fingers untrained in the intricate, dangerous work of solving Amy. When I'd hold up the bloody stumps, she'd sigh and turn to her secret mental notebook on which she tallied all my deficiencies, forever noting disappointments, frailties, shortcomings."

: ̗̀➛ i have become a gillian flynn STAN this year, it's true. despite having seen the movie multiple times, i enjoyed reading this, and was delighted to find some differences in the texts [for better and for worse].

: ̗̀➛ nick dunne, big fan of the lie of omission, mama's boy whose mama is dead, i'd like to introduce you to couples therapy.

dead beautiful and life eternal by yvonne woon [reread] [★★★]

: ̗̀➛ the first two books in a paranormal romance trilogy. these kinda bang guys, i can't lie. 15-year-old me was onto something when she decided to keep these instead of donating them. however, they DO have some of the worst book covers i've ever seen, sorry yvonne.

fourth wing by rebecca yarros [★★★]

: ̗̀➛ a romantasy book that has dragons, smut, and twists that you'll see coming from a mile away. pretty fun. recced to me by one man in person and a thousand women on tik tok.

: ̗̀➛ no one who has the thought 'double standards for the win' is using 'whomever' in a casual sentence with the guy she's having sex with.

: ̗̀➛ good enemies to lovers should have actual murder attempts. but maybe that's jusT MY OPINION.

my book rating system is as follows:

★ = i felt pure contempt the entire time

★★ = yeah it's a book

★★★ = i liked it!

★★★★ = good fucking book, damn

★★★★★ = blew my dick clean off and i'll throw a tantrum if everyone i know doesn't also read it and love it

#what i've been up to!#if you've read any of these lets talk #books #jessie reads

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prodbymaui · 1 year

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My Boy.

would it be a sin? if I can't help falling in love with you

PAIRING: lee donghyuck x fem reader

GENRE: the innocent sweet boy

WORD COUNT: 3.6k+ words

WARNINGS: explicit content, reader is older by 3 years, implied obsession, implied murder, mentioned physical abuse (not from haechan!)

SYNOPSIS: A series of failed relationships and you were this near of giving up on love. But then here comes little Donghyuck and his persistence. Maybe-- he was the one fated to you, after all.

A/N: forgive me for not writing a smooth transition from fluff to smut lmao. and this isn't beta-read so please just pretend you don't see grammatical errors and typos. fluff was just a poor attempt of hiding my true intentions for this fic, anyways lolol. enjoy reading! send your thoughts if you can, xoxo <3

LISTEN TO: Can't Help Falling in Love by Elvis Presley (Haley Reinhart)

Lee Donghyuck, for everyone at the campus, is someone who embodies gracefulness, kindness and all the positive traits one could ever think of. Nobody would ever dare to say ill about him as it's disrespectful for the boy who had been nothing but gentle and polite to each he had encounter.

Lee Donghyuck, the ever so sweet boy who comes to anyone's aid no matter what's his relationship with them.

You're his friend? He'll help you!

A classmate? He's just one call away!

Oh, you're a stranger and someone he haven't met yet? How amazing it is that Donghyuck has a free time to lend you a hand and get to know you!

Men and women stares at him with adoration, even the professors and staffs couldn't resist falling in love with his charming personality-- he even earned the nickname 'Haechan' or 'Full Sun' as he brightens everyone's day with little to no effort. It would be a lie if none of the students admits their crush on the campus' sweetheart Lee Donghyuck.

Too bad for them as the lovely boy's hazel eyes are only set for one person. Someone who had been by his side ever since he was 5. Someone he admires and respects so much he wouldn't let anyone hurt nor even touch them. It's you. His noona.

Haechan was 15 when he confessed his undying love for you.

''These feelings.. they didn't grow inside me throughout the 10 years I've been with you, Noona. They had always been here, in my heart. It was just me who took a long time to realize I have been harboring romantic feelings for someone who clearly treats me as her brother. This love-- it's endless, limitless. It knows no boundaries. No matter who and whatever comes in my way, my love for you will never waver. Through the deathly drought, my love won't ever wither. Through the thundering storms, my heart stands sturdy for you to hold on. This love that I have for you, it is the kind of love that only gets stronger as time flies by. The kind of love that through life and death, you remain the queen of my heart. Ruling it as if you are its owner. Let me be the man who protects you from the harsh that is this world. Let me be the wall you can lean on and the blanket you seek for warmth and comfort. I hope you wouldn't treat me any less after this confession. Because if there's anything that I am afraid to lose in this world, it's you, noona.''

It's astonishing, how a 15 year old can say such words. You're not sure where and when he learned those kind of things but you, as early as you can, stomps on the flattering feeling brewing inside of you. The boy is so young, he still have so much ahead of him, so much of the future that awaits him. With the thought of not wanting to let the boy tie himself up quickly to someone he's most likely just infatuated-- that was the first and last time you've expected to reject the sweet boy of Ilsan.

Lee Donghyuck, the persistent boy that he is, surprises you with more than 3 confessions each month. You resist falling for the beautiful flowers sent to your house everyday. You withstand the painful urge of giving in to the delicious and adorable bento boxes that shows different images of cartoon characters such as cinnamoroll and my melody from sanrio.

But you're just a human being. One that is weak from such cute attempts to sway your heart, like love letters with pastel decorations on your mailbox. It was too late before you realized, the wall you've created to stop the romantic feelings from squeezing themselves in your heart had crumbled into pieces. Shooing away your so-called sisterly love to Donghyuck as it was quickly replaced with the one the male had confessed harboring for you.

6 years later, your sweet little boy turned into a man he promised to be. Protecting you from any harm even if you can do it yourself. I know Noona can handle it but I don't want you stressing over things like these, why not make use of these muscles, right? He says.

''That's really the Lee Haechan? The little boy who had a crush on you back in high school? That chubby choco ball little boy?! God, he grew up so well! If you didn't tell me any sooner, I might've mistaken him as someone our age.''

You scoff at Jennie's words, sending her your middle finger. ''Just tell me you were thinking of fucking my boyfriend until I told you he's mine.''

Jennie's laugh battles with the loud music of the club, hands clapping like a seal due to amusement. ''Fine, guilty as fuck.''

You don't mind her words. You've been Jennie's friend for a long time to know that she doesn't have any plans of actually bedding your boy. Plus she's dumbly in love with her fuck buddy, Lalisa. That itself tells a lot. And it's not like your lovely would agree fucking your best friend.

''Come to think of it-- none of your past relationships really worked, no? All of them either ran away or just completely disappeared,'' She giggles.

''Men are so fucking scared of independent and powerful women. Maybe it was fated from the start for you to end up with Donghyuck. From what I can see, he's really into you-- always ready to serve or some cliché shit like that. But it's cute. You and Donghyuck are adorable together. He's so much better than those douchebags, especially that fucking Kim Jongin.''

Right, the devil who's Kim Jongin if its physical form. He was someone you wished you didn't met, someone whom you hoped is currently suffering wherever he is right now. You remember it as clear as the skies. The way he was so sly slipping a pill in your cup, waiting for you to pass out as he was driven madly by his disgusting lust over your body. Fortunately, luck wasn't on his side at that time and you managed to call the one person you trust the most before your ex-boyfriend even do something horrible to your intoxicated, drugged self-- sans the bruises and wounds you received from fighting back.

Haechan came rushing to your house that night. This is where it gets blurry. All you could recall was Jongin dropping on the floor, laying on top of the pool of his own blood. Donghyuck carries you, passing through the police as he urges them to rush you to a hospital-- all the while reminding them that the offender is currently inside and he was lucky to save the both of you despite earning some injuries as well, although minors.

3 years since then, you are yet to say you feel safe. Not long after being jailed, Kim Jongin was reported to be missing in his cell and until now, no police is able to locate him. The trauma he brought you stirs the fear once again, but Donghyuck was there to remind you that he will never let Kim Jongin near you. He already hurt you once, he wouldn't give him a chance to do it again.

A voice snaps you out of your bubble. Jennie is nowhere to be seen, now replaced with a familiar man you swear you've seen before. ''You seem preoccupied, a penny for your thoughts?''

The man chuckles at your stunned reaction. ''Ah.. you don't remember me? That hurts a bit, ouch.'' He clenches his chest dramatically, there you gasp in realization, jerking upwards as you point at his figure. You know this guy!

''Oh? Are you finally remembering me? Just to be sure, it's me. Na Jaemin from the dance club in high school. You know? Your partner in every dance.. ?''

''Right! Right! Ah, Na Jaemin, I didn't recognized you! Take a seat. How are you doing?'' Jaemin's smile is so bright that you could feel yourself going blind.

''Doing fine, luckily. I'm taking up an engineering course, we've talked about that before right? Remember how you encourage me to go for it because I was so scared I won't make it? I was so bad at math that time.''

Laughing softly, you share the vivid memories you can recall from your high school days. Jaemin is a gentleman who doesn't hesitate to lend a hand at times you're having difficulties following the choreographies. And by how he entertains everyone in the club, treating the members snacks and drinks during break time-- It is safe to say he's one of those that you misses the most if not for college erasing your memories and replacing it stress.

The conversation fills with reminiscing about the past as if they're 15 years ago. Sharing a laughter after one mentions that one time you both got mental blocked during a performance causing the two of you to mess up, thankfully you work well enough you pull it off and make it seem like there was no mistake at all.

Just as Jaemin's eyes roams around the dance floor, his vision captures a sight of his drunken friend that clearly needs his help. Sighing, the man bids his goodbye to you. Not without getting your number and sharing his, of course. You'd love to hang out with the whole group again.

''What was that right there, huh?'' A grin shows itself on your face and sudden giddiness bubbles inside you as the playful tone rumbles against your ear, a pair of arms wrapping themselves around your waist.

''Nothing, just an old friend saying hi.''

''Is that so?''

''Uh-hm.''

One on the forehead, one on your cheeks and finally on the lips. Your heart soars as Donghyuck peppers your whole face with sweet pecks. As much as you are enjoying the drinks and foods, you'd rather spend the night in your shared bedroom with Haechan. Maybe cuddle and watch some movies together if one is not too tired.

Your boyfriend agrees at the suggestion, immediately zooming to your apartment after waving a goodbye to Jennie with Lisa in her embrace, obviously sucking a hickey on her neck. No one admits it but clearly, your best friend's fuck buddy also have the same feelings for her. She's just too much of a coward. You remind yourself to help her confess.

Reaching the comfort of your home, you stand before the mirror as you drink in your look, observing if you look presentable during your time at the club. It isn't long before someone sneaks up behind you, arms snaking around you once again as he buries his face on the crook of your neck. Sighing, you lean backwards to press yourself at him, satisfied at the feeling of his body heat warming you.

A kiss turns into twice, trice, until it doubles and doubles, eventually reaching up to the back of your ears. Kitten licking the outline, Donghyuck presses his lips against your ears as one of his palms travels to cup one of your breasts, eyes straight to the mirror-- watching every changes of your facial expression as he fondles your boob while sucking an area of your neck.

Your clothes are soon on the floor, courtesy of Haechan desperately yet slowly stripping them off of you, his touch lingering in each part of your body. A finger of his traces the line that is between your pussy cheeks, dipping a little only to retract as fast. His chest rumbles against your back when he chuckle, left hand settling on your throat comfortably as his thumb and forefinger forces you to face your reflection on the mirror.

''You're so pretty, noona. Can you open your legs for me?'' Nodding so pliantly, Donghyuck could feel his pants getting tighter each second that passes by.

Spreading your legs, you grip his arm to steady yourself as a digit of his pushes itself in your core, sliding so easily due to the wetness embarrassingly caused by Haechan's raspy voice whispering against your ears. Being knuckles deep inside you, the male curses under his breath as he controls himself from foregoing foreplay and straight fucking you against the mirror. Your warm and velvety walls are making it hard for him to prevent himself from doing so.

Soon after a couple of strokes, your hips jerks in little motions, whines slightly echoing the four walls of the bedroom. That was when Donghyuck decided to add another finger to increase the friction you're feeling, curling them upwards in an attempt to press the buttons that emits the sounds he loves so much he considers it as a music.

It should be somewhere around here...

''Ah, shit!''

There we go, he cockily smirks. Humming, Haechan continuously jabs the tip of his fingers to that certain spot, grinding his clothed dick on the crack of your ass to ease the throbbing pain between his legs. ''Fuck, Hyuck..'' Your whines encourage the male to scissor your insides, stretching your walls all the while making sure hit and reach every spot you couldn't explore with your own hands.

His tongue falls flat on your skin as he licks a stripe from your shoulders up to the back of your ears, the hand that was previously on your throat now settles on your boob, pinching the hard nub lightly as he stimulates further pleasure with it. Your legs folds a bit, going jelly but the sudden increase of the dizzying pleasure you're getting.

''Fuck, fuck, fuck!'' Hips moving to meet the palms of your boyfriend, Haechan didn't hesitate to add two more fingers. He's already sure you can take it, you've pushed much bigger things in your pussy. The pads of Donghyuck's hand comes in contact with your aching hard clit, forcing a yelp from your. Cruelly, your boyfriend laughs at your reaction before pressing harder on your button, making circles with it the same time as four of his fingers harshly plunges themselves in your soaking core.

Eyes landing on the mirror, it eventually reaches downwards where Donghyuck's wrist and your pelvis meets. Even from your position and blurry vision, you could the redness and puffiness your pussy had become, clit peeking between the cheeks. Haechan finds the need to balance your figure as you almost fall forward, eyes rolling to the back of your head when your mouth opens to a scream. There your forehead scrunches to the middle, body shivering in his hold as the surface of his hand soon greets the sticky and creamy substance that he loves so much.

Beaming in satisfaction, Haechan makes a show of licking your juices off his hands, sucking each fingers with a 'pop!' before humming. ''You're just so sweet.''

Donghyuck then lets your knees meet the carpet of the ground slowly, turning you around so you could face the bump that is hidden underneath the fabric of his pants. He can already see the drool escaping your lips. No words are needed for you to know what to do, you've done this a lot of time, enough to learn what satisfies your lovely boyfriend.

Contrary to the Donghyuck you've gotten used to, this man that stands before you embodies nothing similar to the sweetheart. This particular Donghyuck loves to slide his girthy cock inside of you with no warnings, gripping your hair in a fist as he mercilessly thrusts to that pleasuring walls that is your throat.

This particular Donghyuck gets off of watching you scrambling to pull yourself off of him to catch a breath, coughing out with saliva only to come back having your face pressed to his pelvis once again. Eyes shut close as you try to breathe within your nose and if you couldn't, resort to opening your eyes and presenting your best teary eyes to Haechan for him to spare you, let you take in some air for at least a few seconds.

''Ah.. that's a-- I made you cum but you couldn't even bring me near my release? Isn't that a bit unfair to me, noona?'' You know damn well he's just mocking you. There's no one Donghyuck can fool when it comes to your ability to make him cum. A mere sight of you, even if covered from head to toe, would be enough for him to pop a boner and shoot his cum out in the air.

Determined to repay your baby's kind gesture earlier, you stills in your position and gives him a signal. Donghyuck lets out profanities with that. You just fucking gave him a confirmation, a consent that you're letting him fuck your throat as if it's your pussy.

Lee Donghyuck did just that. Holding your face in place, fucking inside you deeper with each thrust until a groan escapes his lips, soon enough he was spurting out white thick substances in the alley of your burning throat.

The male wastes no time in carrying you to the bed, throwing you after ripping his clothes off of him. His tongue invades the insides of your mouth, exploring and devouring what you have to offer. As if running out of time, Haechan's hands grasps the back of your thighs and forces them up to get a clearer view of your pussy pulsating, hungry for his cock.

Who is Donghyuck to deprive his lovely noona from receiving a well deserved good fuck, right?

No more teasing and no more extra touches, the tip of Donghyuck's thick cock slowly sinks, the whole entirety of his length follows not long after. His mouth falls open at the heat that surrounds him, the ecstasy you brings shakes his sanity.

Unforgiving, the thrusts are. With his hands settling besides your head, Haechan looks down to watch where your hole swallows him hungrily and is forced to turn his eyes away in order to not cum that fast. Fuck, the squelching sounds that bounces across the bedroom is so obscene that Donghyuck could feel himself smiling in pride. He's doing this to his, noona. Him and not those bastards.

''Fuck! Y-you're so b-big! So good, baby-- ah, fuck!'' Your nails creates crescent moon shapes on his back as it digs due to the immense pleasure, head dipping further to the pillow underneath you.

Being able to hold you in his arms and have you screaming for him, Haechan did the best he can to prevent himself from giving in to tempting urge of releasing. Instead, he decides to chase yours. He rocks his hips in the way you had been begging him, faster and harder. Unhooking his hold, he brings your legs to rest on his shoulders, almost bending you in half. This enables his cock to reach deeper and you wails, feeling his tip right at your stomach.

Fucking you earnestly, Haechan quickens his pace where you couldn't keep up, reduced to a whimpering and crying mess as you beg him to send you off to your climax. He latches his wet lip around your nipples, there he sucks like a new born baby starving for its mama's milk. Prodding his tongue right at the middle of your nub and wiggles them, that and the continuous contact of his tip to your sweet spot are those that caused you to thrash violently in his hold.

Hands flying anywhere, in search of gripping anything. Your burning walls clenching around his shaft, it would be a crime for Donghyuck to not succumb to the euphoria that's literally waving at him and beckoning him to cum. With your sweet words and encouragements piercing his eardrums, your boyfriend cums three thrusts after you, each resulting a moan from him.

The high soon subsides and a chuckle instinctively comes from him when his eyes catches the sight of you sleeping peacefully beside him, snoring like a little baby. Well, you are. His baby, to be exact.

Stickiness from the mega mixture of sweat and cum covers most of your skin, he wouldn't want the both of you to have a skin rashes or whatever it is that you gets from having cum on your skin for too long. And aftercare is a must! So he forces himself out of the bed despite the aching muscles and cleans you up, carefully as to no wake you up from your deep slumber.

Minutes passing, you are now comfortably laying on the bed, clean and free from the germs. A soft smile dawns Haechan's features as he cards his hand through your hair endearingly, kissing your forehead. ''I can't believe you're mine, noona.'' Caressing your cheeks for the last time, he practically forces himself to stop and move on to what he planned to do which is to cook your some food. Usually after sex, you'll wake up after an hour or so because of hunger. It has been a routine for him to prepare you both some easy dishes.

He is about to head towards the door when your phone, placed on the bedside, rings. Striding to it, he taps once to see who dared to text his noona at this time. Don't they know that you are most likely sleeping during this hour and their text might wake you up? Nevermind, maybe it's Jennie.

Oh. It's him.

Hey, this is Jaemin! I was just thinking if you'd like to hang out on wednesday? Only if you're free, of course!

Na fucking Jaemin.

Donghyuck scoffs, tongue poking his cheeks as he smirks in disbelief.

3 years since then, he can't believe he's about to give Kim Jongin a fucking gravemate.

#haechan smut #nct smut #nct #lee donghyuck #lee haechan #nct scenarios #nct imagines #haechan scenarios #haechan imagines #nct hard hours #haechan hard hours #nct 127 #nct dream #nct 127 smut #nct dream smut #prodbymaui

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bulletswithribbons · 4 months

Text

"Fucking hate journalists"

Kai Anderson X Fem!reader // NSFW

Warnings: Kai Anderson. You guess it. Very little plot, degrading, non-con/dob-con, mentions of murder, implied masochism, rough oral sex (m receiving), gun play, slut shaming, hair pulling, let me know if I missed any.

Summary: Kai breaks in your house to teach you your place after non-stop asking him back handed questions during the interview. Events eventually take a twisted turn, you were never that much of a good girl anyways.

Word count: 2.5k

a/n: This is my first ever fic, I've read plenty and wrote smut before so I'm pretty confident. But first time publishing so here we go.

Interviewing Kai right after his campaign was not the best call at all, especially the way you kept pressing him. You knew you shouldn’t have but this is war whether he knew it or not. You took a vow on yourself to make him expose himself on his own. You’ve always been suspicious about him but you had no proof of your accusations, and calling someone out based on your gut is not really professional, especially as a journalist.

Even though someone had to confront him about his mistakes and fear mongering, your questions only made things worse, for you at least. You pushed too hard, making him feel small in front of the media. He could sense your suspicion with every question, and it's clear you put a big dent in his ego.

You were sitting on your desk, ticking your pen as a form of anti-stress. A bit of a mess actually, papers scattered, pens strewn about. Newspapers and magazines pile up, post-it notes plastered everywhere and a coffee cup long forgotten. Your desk lamp sits on the edge, casting a soft, warm glow in the room. You've always preferred gentle lights especially when working, it helps you think.

Your thoughts spiral around making your headache worse than it already is. How could you possibly put him down, once and for all..?

A bone-chilling breeze whispers over the back of your neck, sending shivers down your spine. You enjoy it while it lasts, a refreshing breeze in this stifling hot night. It must have come from the window behind you, although you don't remember leaving it open... It doesn't matter. Nothing does as long as you still have work to do.

Your slender fingers reach for your white blouse, unbuttoning it. Once removed, you toss it aside, letting it fall to the floor, trying to cool your temperature down. You're digging through Kai's files, searching for a gap to use against him. It wasn't your job to do so. But as a journalist of course, you'd investigate and research to report the facts and keep people up with the facts.

Perhaps it's because you take what he says in the media personally. After all, a part of you is a feminist, a part you're not ready to let go of, at least for the sake of all the women who fought for their place in this world. You see through his manipulation tactics because you've seen them before. You know a narcissist when you see one.

"Fuck!" You shout as you throw the papers off your desk.

"Hm, come on now, how dare you throw these papers. We don't want little big mouth to lose her temper." He tsks, with an overly sweet tone dripping with sarcasm.

Shocked, you recognize the voice as you feel something hard poking you in the back of your head, trailing down to your neck, detaching your hair that was hardly holding up in the messy bun. Cold, metal. Sudden realisations hit all at once, but most importantly is the outsider in your house -your room- you pissed off earlier this day holding a gun to your head.

"Mr. Anderson, I'm going to have to ask you to leave. What the fuck are you doing in my house?!" you ask, your voice rising towards the end. You're trying your best to stay calm. One mistake, and you’re dead. Young lady in her 20s corpse’ found shot in her bedroom because she couldn’t keep her mouth shut.

“Mr. Anderson?”He repeats after you, chuckling. “They’re always respectful when fearful.” A sinful smirk tugs his lips, a look of pride in his dark cold eyes after hearing his last name coming from your trembling lips. “But I would have to politely decline your offer. I’m here to fix the mess of a situation you’ve just created for yourself. After all, I don’t want to lose voters over something so foolish. Especially this… close to the election.”

"Like hell I—or anyone with a brain that knows right from wrong—would vote for you!" You yell as you stand up from your seat.

His jaw clenches and nostrils flare, showing his annoyance. His grip on the gun tightening as he lifts the gun up to your temple, his finger twitching on the trigger. His voice, on the other hand, remains eerily sweet. “I really think you should keep your voice down.”

You swallow, your throat drier than ever.

His voice lowers to a whisper, "I see you started learning. Good girl, I'm proud of fast learners." He takes a step towards you, his free hand stroking your chin and cheek, his touch alone giving you goosebumps. The gun rests on your temple, his eyes darting around the room.Then his focus shifts back to you. "Get on your knees," he orders and pulls his hand away from your face.

“I’m sorry?” You rush out, your eyes widening.

“Now,” he responds, his tone dripping with impatience as he jerks his gun to signal his order. “Expecting company?” He inquires looking down at your —bra only— chest.

You crouch down on your knees, his gun still pointing to your head. “No,” you respond short and clearly. For a minute, you believe you saw him smile slightly. A smile of pride..

“You’re such an obedient slut, aren’t you?” He pauses, “You defied me, made a fool of me in front of everyone. That doesn't go unnoticed.” He whispers, his voice pitch getting higher towards the end.

“So you’re going to shoot me? Because I hurt your little pathetic ‘man ego’? Because I’m small and vulnerable while you’re big and strong?” You retort, fake amusement hiding your fear.

“You’re smart. Most girls aren't smart. Well, that was the plan.” His smirk widens, his tone sounding even more sadistic as he slowly traces the gun barrel around your jawline— tracing it slowly with the tip of his gun. You notice him staring at your lips. “But now, seeing how big of a mouth you have, I’m going to show you what whores like you are made for.” He informs, his tone bled dry of emotion.

“The kitchen and carrying useless men’s babies. I Get it, trust.” You lash out. Although you know keeping your mouth shut is probably the better option, especially in this exact situation. But that never really happens, at least not most of the time.

Kai’s grip tightens on the gun as his rage begins to seep through his body. His other hand darts out to your face and before you even notice it, a slap lands with a sharp crack, sending a jolt of pain rippling through your cheek and leaving you on the floor. It stings, you can feel a red mark in its wake. Leaving you feeling shocked and humiliated.

You were lying down there on the floor, your body stretched out, limbs motionless. There was no sense of ease in your posture nor the room, rather a stillness that borders on tension. Even the air itself felt stifling.

Your eyes widen at the sight of his free hand darting to his zipper, pulling it down tooth by tooth. “You see, you just know how things work.” His tone becomes condescending, he pops the button and grip the waistband of his pants pulling it down until it’s enough to pull his dick out. “You have such a delicious looking mouth. I'm sure it has been put to good use for the benefit of passing by men. I'm guessing you've had a lot of fun.” He grabs the elastic of his boxers, lowering them down over his balls and pulling out his half hard cock.

You stare at him, your face frozen in shock. “You’re sick!” you shout.

“Am I now? You're the one who's been around so many men in your life. You should be used to it by now.” He grins, his hand holding his gun and moving it from your cheek to beneath your chin, pulling it up, so you were looking at him. “You should be grateful I'm bothering to even look at you.”

Although the men you’ve been with aren’t that many, you don’t bother to waste your time explaining. He believes what he wants to believe.

“Get back here,” he orders as he starts to pump his cock, the veins bulging beneath his grip. A bead of precum glistening from the tip.

You crawl back to him on all fours, doing as he says, and getting back on your knees, looking up at him. “Are you going to hurt me?” you ask.

He pauses for a moment before tilting his head with a small grin. “Isn’t that what you deserve? Do you want me to hurt you? Is that it? You like pain? Is that what you crave, y/n?”

Fear… Regret.. Along with arousal.. Unwanted arousal specifically. You always knew you had a thing for troubled —twisted— men, but this is beyond fucked-up. Not to forget, he’s your worst enemy. He’s any woman’s worst enemy. Feeling your pussy weeping in response to his tall figure towering over you is not really something to be proud of. The heat between your thighs only grew bigger every second and you knew you needed to get rid of the feeling.

He stops pumping his cock, his hand darts to your head caressing your hair with —almost— a soft touch.

“Suck,” he orders.

Your eyes widen, your tongue ready to curse at him, “I’m not going t-”

“I won’t ask again, suck.” His hand darts up to your face squishing your cheeks painfully together. “You run your mouth a lot, might as well put it to good use. I’ll show you what exactly happens to smart mouths. Suck it like the slut you are.” His eyes burn with anger while he’s squeezing tight, his voice dripping with venom. The tip of his heavy warm cock caresses your soft lips, tempting you to bite it off.

He roughly lets go of your face, grabbing a fistful of your hair and yanking your head to the back to force your mouth open.

He forces the tip past your teeth, hatred spewing from your eyes.

“Wider,” he demands, but you want him to beg. Beg for it on his knees and switch the table, be the one with the gun ordering him around like a house pet. Getting back your dignity sounded good but not enough if you compare it with its consequence, having your life taken away from you.

You ignore his request. Making him reinforce his hold in your hair, pulling at it harder making your jaw drop so he can get deeper to your throat. The salty taste of precum evades your taste buds.

You loved the taste of him, your mouth watering with his cock inside it. But you couldn't admit it, of course you never would. It didn’t take too long for you to wrap your fingers around the base of his shaft.

Your head bobbing up and down. A breathy moan escaped him.

“Do enlighten me,” he breathes out, a smirk tugging at his lips.

Your tongue massaged the veins that swelled on his thick cock, flattened out on the thickest one underneath and flicked at the tip.

Ragged breaths escaped his mouth as you began to inch your way down, taking in more of him. The tip of his cock bumped against the back of your throat. Kai tightens his grip around your hair, and shoves your face down against his cock, making you gag around him, violently forcing you to deep throat his dick, making you gag. His length occupying your whole mouth down to your throat. You were practically choking, but he didn’t really care about it, he’s there for one reason and one reason only, teaching you to know your place.

“Fucking whore. You thought you were so smart with those non stop questions?” He pauses panting as he thrusts harder into your throat, the sound of you gagging and the wet thrusts echoing through the room. “Fucking hate journalists. Tell me… Who got the upper hand now?”

You can't help but ignore him once again. It's not like you would give him what he wants and come undone beneath him, right? Of course you can’t answer him, after all you’re his number one hater. But even haters would give in when it’s the most mouthwatering cock a man can ever have.

When you avoided answering, or maybe couldn’t answer since you were basically choking on his cock. His dick alone is enough to murder you if he wanted to. It only made him thrust faster, the asshole didn’t stop mouth fucking you even when he noticed your cheeks turning to a bright red and your eyes watering. Your cries turned him even more on. Kai forced his cock further into your throat, until your nose was pressed in the bush of his pubic hair.

Finally, you gave him a wobbly nod, motioning that he has the upper hand.

His head fell back to his shoulders, “That’s good to hear.. You’re learning, you’re such a good girl…Fuck…”

You smile at the praise. Surprisingly, him being somewhat ‘sweet’ only made him ten times hotter.

Tears keep running down your red cheeks, your cries echoing through the room.

“Just so you know, I’m enjoying this. Your whimpers are music to my ear.” He groans. “But god dammit don’t whine like a fucking bitch.” He spits at you and it lands on your cheek. Add it to the list of body fluids covering your face, along with the sweat gathering at your forehead and drool drenching your chin.

You moan around his thick cock, sending him vibrations through his whole body. After all, you’re not putting on an act, you are enjoying it which is something you, yourself, are afraid of. But mostly you were focused on getting oxygen into your lungs. And maybe he is right, as always. Maybe there really is a part of you that enjoys the pain. That burning stinging sensation in the back of your throat. It’s scary because it’s true.

His thrusts then began to lose their rhythm, but still managed to keep up with his pace. You knew what was coming for you. You shut your eyes, dramatically accepting your fate. Your jaw was already tired from him using you. His shaft was heated up, thrusting in and out of your red swollen lips. His hand gripped on your hair even more tightly holding you in place while his hold on the gun loosened.

“My cock is a reward, tasting me is a blessing. Fucking thank me for letting you suck me off.” He says between breaths.

No response, just a wet sticky cough. But afraid of his reaction, you choke out with a full mouth, “thank you.”

You could promise that you felt the disgusted face he did, “what a filthy bitch didn't your parents teach you not to talk with a full mouth?” He says while non-stop grunting like a wounded animal. That's probably what he is anyways... A wounded animal.

Few seconds later, ropes of cum spurt out from his dick into my throat, milking it after the abuse it went through when he was hammering into my mouth. He pulls out from your mouth and tug his dick back into his boxers then his pull his pants back up.

“Swallow,” he orders. “Fucking swallow my cum.” Kai grabs your face and presses his fingers into your cheek flesh.

Desperately, all you wanted to do was spit it at him, right in his face, but you don’t. You actually swallow like the obedient little slut he said you are. His seed slides down your throat, alongside your dignity and maybe your hatred towards him.

Your fingers reach to your face drying up the tears that ran down your cheeks and the saliva running down your chin along with lines of cum. Looking up to him, you see him breathing heavily. His body working hard to get the oxygen he needs from how hard you sucked him off.

He looks at you up and down, judging you, it can't be anything good.

You expected him to do something, whether beat you up, shoot you, the least of it is spit at you telling you how much of a filthy whore you are.

But he didn't, and you were grateful for that... For him..

The taste of him still lingers at the tip of your tongue. You lick your lips unintentionally and in the most discrete way possible. Last thing you want is having him know you liked it and boost his ego, not that it could possibly needed any more promotions. But he already knows, you're sure of it. The way you sucked the life out of him like it was the best thing you laid your lips on, you can't hide that from anyone.

He turns and walks to the door, completely silent. What could he be possibly thinking about...?

He pauses at the door, turning his head to see you, he’s sweaty.

“If I see you run your mouth about any of my work, newt time will be much worse.” He promises, which you thought was kind of cute.. Promises…

Zipping up his fly, and slipping his gun in his pants, he finally turns away and leaves, slamming the door behind him.

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