#hating on someone I’ve never met because I feel like she replaced me (she’s a sweet girl I’m just a jealous bitch) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

saintgoths · 2 years ago

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ʟᴜꜱᴛ ꜰᴏʀ ʟᴏᴠᴇ

JEALOUS!ELLIE X READER - LUST FOR LOVE.

[PART TWO OF FADE INTO YOU].

WORD COUNT - 2,893.

RATING - 18+. [ellie being a desperate cunt basically, oral sex, scissoring, over-stimulation & squirting, oh and angst!]

SUMMARY - you had moved on and Ellie hates it, but would do anything to get you back.

[requests are closed, until i post five chapters of a song of thorns they will open again]. if you want to join a the last of us discord/joel miller discord here you go! 𓆩♡𓆪

if this reaches more than ninty notes maybe i'll post part 3, which would most likely be the last one for this mini series :)

You have fulfilled what Ellie had feared, you had moved on and you have moved on quicker than she expected, she had heard the news from Dina who was told by Jesse due to the fact that the current person you were in a relationship with was a friend of Jesse’s, Justin.

Ever since you had started dating Justin, you had not marked Ellie at all; if you were being honest, you had missed Ellie, and it would be a half-truth if you said you weren’t dating Justin as a distraction, the man was sweet and had ticked all the boxes of being an excellent romantic partner.

Forthwith, you had been in Justin’s lodge, he had caught a cold which had made you quite upset since it would mean you couldn’t have him as your patrol partner for tomorrow, he had been your patrol partner this current and previous week. Justin was an excellent patrol partner, protective, skilled and strong, he had always checked up on you to see if you were hurt or bitten. His sweetness was overwhelming, you had wondered if this was all an act because most of the men you had romantically in your life weren’t the kindest.

However, since Justin was sick, and it had meant that someone had to replace him for your shift tomorrow, you had hoped Maria would be kind about who she would replace as your patrol partner. Though, currently, you had made him soup and delivered him multiple medicines to make your boyfriend feel better, presently it was night and you had informed him that you would be sleeping on the couch because you didn’t want to catch the same sickness he owned, but he had pleaded for your presence.

“Please baby,” he hopelessly whined as he reached out for you but you had comically rolled your eyes at him while you had made your way to the doorframe of his bedroom. “Sleep next to me.”

“Justin, I don’t want to get sick,” you smartly replied, “if you weren’t I would have been in bed with you and made you feel better in ways you would’ve loved.”

You had smiled at your sexual innuendo which had made your partner dramatically sob in thought of your sensual behaviour. Albeit, he had let you go and you had peacefully slept on his sofa.

The next day, you had returned to your home to prepare for your current shift, subsequently, you had met up with Maria who was ready to inform you with who you had to patrol with. Maria was a kind lady, stern and straightforward also had the characteristics of a leader, but you had remembered how much she had annoyed you with the lecture she had mailed you after the night you had your party.

You had remembered the words she had used, “disruptive”, “loud”, and “disrespectful”. You were sure most of the complaints had been from Seth, you had never gotten along with that man.

You had greeted the older woman who then politely tapped you on the shoulder, she had a look on her face that had told you that you would not be fond of what she had to tell you. You had not said anything to her but your eyebrows were knitted up as you silently waited for her to tell you what she had to say. “You’re partnered up with Ellie today, I know it’s something you don’t want today, but we’re low with supplies and I’ve been told there’s infected around and you and Ellie make a great team.”

Well, you would’ve made a great team if you two had been keen on each other. You were surprised, but you had kept the startlement to yourself. “Please, be kind to one another and use this time to make up.”

Jokingly, you had furrowed your eyebrows, eyes glistened with curiosity, “had you planned this so the two of us could make up?” You asked, lowly amused by her sneaky attempt.

“Somewhat like that,” Maria hastily commented as Ellie appeared, you had been informed before Ellie as Maria was tactful about it, she had gathered just like you, that Ellie had been avoiding you, so if the leader had informed the red-haired girl before, she was sure Ellie would have done anything to avoid going with you.

It was awkward whilst Maria had delivered the message that the both of you were partnered up, you had kept to yourself while Maria had explained Ellie everything, she had explained to you, when she had completed telling Ellie of her shift, she had shared with you, Maria had then glanced towards you then rebounded towards Ellie. “Like I said, be kind to each other and safe.”

You two had then left to the stables after you had bid Maria a goodbye; your horse was named Stella, she was a ginger mare, known for her stamina and speed and similar to your strength and fortitude. You had waited for Ellie to take her horse, Shimmer but you were quite ahead of her when she had finished her task. Your route out of Jackson was silent, you two were slightly next to each other and this time, Ellie was marginally ahead of you.

Ellie had thought of what happened a week ago and she couldn’t help but scoff about how fast you were to move onto the next piece of meat. You had heard the quick sound she had made but ignored it until the question that had been bubbling in your head eventually popped.

“Why have you been avoiding me?”

Once more, Ellie had scoffed, unbothered to face you, hands suddenly tight on the reigns connected to Shimmer. “Why are you avoiding me?” She foolishly repeated.

“Yeah,” you silently muttered, “why are you avoiding me?”

“Didn’t you kick me out?” She bluntly reminded you, “it would be stupid for me to come back to you and act like nothing happened.”

Well, she had practically slut-shamed you, so if someone had the right to avoid the other, it would be you. Gently, you clicked your tongue while you fiddled with your necklace Justin had given you as a late birthday present, the Williams girl had noticed your small action but had said nothing about it.

The rest of the patrol had involved you two searching for supplies and killing off the infected Maria had been informed about. The both of you had almost been close to one of your bases, and you had decided to use the time to speak again. “That doesn’t mean you have to deny every invitation Jesse or Dina give you, especially in settings where I’m there.”

“You’re almost pushing them to the point where they have to do functions without me so you can come.”

You didn’t want it to become this bad, it had upset both Dina and Jesse because they had missed having the group together. “If I do come then that means I’ll have to see you with that Justin dude.”

You had raised the both of your eyebrows, startled as you pieced together what she had informed you. “Is this what it was all about?” You quickly questioned, “because I moved on with Justin?”

“Maybe it is,” Ellie shrugged as she tried to push the jealousy, she had for the both of you out of her mind. “You did exactly what you denied you would do, you moved on when I did the slightest thing wrong.”

You had remained silent while the two of you made it to the base after you had tied your horses to stable poles so you could relax in the post that was known for its loud and alcohol. You had relaxed on the nearest sofa, fingers fidgeted with the jewellery around your neck as your mind was submerged with dozens of thoughts and ways to start another conversation with the stubborn girl who sat beside you, there was a gap between the both of you, the gap then filled with the presence of her bag.

“I don’t want to keep fighting with you,” you lightly muttered.

“You always give me a reason to.”

You had pressed your lips together and you had sworn you would’ve broken your necklace, Ellie was so difficult, you had matched her energy so it was an endless dispute between the two of you. “Where did you get your necklace?”

“Justin gave it to me as a birthday present.”

She snorted, it’s almost as if she had wanted to piss you off, make you feel like it was a terrible decision to be romantically partnered with the man who had been nothing but kind to you. You had pouted while you looked down at your legs, fingers still wrapped around the necklace, “at least he got me a present,” you pouted whilst you had avoided Ellie’s look who responded with silence until the woman picked up her backpack and unzipped the bag to reveal a small box she had kept in her gear.

It was disclosed to be a bracelet, the jewellery was handmade but it was very detailed and looked valuable, you had stared at it with awe as Ellie dangled the piece in front of you, “I wanted to give it to you during your birthday party, but couldn’t…” she sheepishly trailed off while you had taken the object from her and put it on yourself while you had observed that the trinket had both of your initials.

“It’s pretty, thank you Ellie,” you had gingerly smiled as you continued to examine the developed and itemized bracelet. You hadn’t known what came over you but you were sure you would regret it the next day, your lips confined with Ellie’s, your slender hands were clasped around her face, eyes closed and heated by her short act of kindness.

You didn’t understand why it was so easy for you to fall into Ellie’s arms, feasibly, it could have been the time away you had from each other that had you eager to have her again. You two had mutually taken off each other’s clothes, Ellie’s rough fingers competently found way between your legs and brushed against your bud, you had moaned into her mouth as she had gulled with your cunt, she had known how to play with your body better than anyone else that has touched you, she had always caused you to fall into a love drunk state which perhaps could have been the reason why you had briskly fallen into her arms again.

She had your back pressed against the sofa, legs widely spread as her face was currently enclosed by your cunt, she was always rough with her oral sex, her attention always intent and enfolded with your pearl she was invariably obsessed with, she had perpetually loved your taste, the tanginess and explosive nectar always kept her going, her two digits in your pussy and her heavy tongue lapped against your clit. You had arched your back, jewelled hand had planted in her hair as you animalistically rubbed your cunt against her face, your cries high and lewd.

With you overstimulated, Ellie’s tongue had fallen flat against your heated area, her coloured eyes stuck and fixated with your appearance, your choppy movements as you could feel yourself almost close with an orgasm. “Ellie, just like that!” You shamelessly whined, “just like that Ellie,” you hysterically pleaded during the time that your sweet ambrosia leaked into her mouth, Ellie eagerly belted and devoured your tangy nectar then pulled herself from your cunt after she kissed your pussy with a couple more licks ere she urged her mouth against yours once more.

With her fingers against her clit to prepare herself, the red-haired woman positioned her bud against yours, vulgar and lustful to have you cum again. She had moved her hands to your breasts and tightly fiddled with your nipples while she moved her cunt against yours, the sour and intense feeling enough to make you squeal into her mouth as she humped your heated area rabidly. She used your cunt like an animal maniacally pleasing itself, obsessed and determined to dominate you, the nails of her fingers dug into the skin of the sofa as she drawled the rhythm of her hip moving, sending you into a complete crazed edge.

“Fuck,” she chanted before she cloaked her lips around your nipple and drastically lapped her tongue against your tit, her body caved in against yours as she succumbed into her coarse and sharp desires and brambly caressed and fondled her clit against yours, her eyes tightly closed as her fingers moved from the sofa and to your highly positioned leg, her nails gently pierced into your skin, the afflictive bliss egged you into an elated climatic state.

Ellie’s crude and filthy pornographic shape, dogged and obstinate as she shortly orgasmed against your cunt, but firm on stroking herself against you to ride you into an over-aroused matter, you had loudly whimpered and moaned in relations to her tormenting stance, still, intoxicated by lust you had drowned into her provoking state and had squirted again; satisfied, the auburn-haired girl had pulled herself away from you.

It was silent while the two of you had put on back your attire, you had felt an immense guilt strike over you and you had wondered why that intense feeling hadn’t come before you had kissed Ellie. It seemed as if Ellie had taken a note of your convicted state and had lightly nudged you, “what’s wrong?” She questioned, sincerely oblivious to why you had seemed so disrupted.

You had nimbly choked a laugh at her inquiry whilst you had tied your laces you had looked at her as if she was futile. “What’s wrong?” You carefully repeated, “I’m a terrible girlfriend, that’s what’s wrong.”

“It’s not your fault,” Ellie mumbled but you shook your head.

“I kissed you first,” you argued as you stood up to your feet. “I have to tell him.”

Evidently, against the idea, Ellie gently shook her head. “He doesn’t need to know.”

With your shoulders slumped, doubtlessly shaken by the culpability and error you had just done. “Then what else can I do?” You asked severely stern on making yourself feel improved, Ellie, anxious, had responded with silence, her eyes big with alarm and angst of having to lose you again, “we can just continue not seeing each other.”

God, you were always one to choose the option that had Ellie feel abhorrent. “That doesn’t need to happen.”

“Yes, it does,” you painfully replied, “we pretend that this never happened, you can continue on your-hating-me hill and I can continue having a relationship with Justin.”

“Why do you need to still date him?” Ellie gratingly asked, taken aback that you had still wanted to have a romantic bond with the man, she had felt and believed that the connection you had with him wasn’t one you were genuinely happy with, and she was right, you were someone who loved to have a fiery and foolhardy romantic love life, Justin gave you the opposite of that. He was calm and gentle.

“He’s a good person, he’s good to me,” you hopelessly replied, desperate to move Ellie from the animosity she had for your relationship with him. “I’m sure the two of you would be good friends too.”

Ellie laughably scoffed at your statement, she had now been determined to leave the base, she had picked up her bag and swung it onto her shoulders, yet, she still made effort to look at you, an inquisitive question imprinted in her mind. “Is he more important than me?”

Your eyes widened at her inquiry, surprised to the fact that she would ask such a bold question, but, you had already had the answer in your mind, and it was one she had already knew. “No, he’s not,” you truthfully responded, disgraced that you hadn’t been able to successfully move from Ellie.

“Then break up with him and be with me,” she desperately pleaded, she had moved from her original position and closer to you, her hand had cupped your face that had been suffocated with the state of confusion. Ellie had pressed her forehead against yours, disturbingly in love with you and open to do whatever she’d have to do to get you back. “I’ll be better for you, and I’ll make you happier than him, please [Y/N].”

Your noses had gently stroked one another as you had drowned yourself in thought, Justin was a good man, he was good to you, and loved you in ways you thought a man couldn’t, he had given you what you thought you should have in love, but Ellie, as much as she had put you in situations where you had been a crying mess, had still been able to put you in scenarios where you had felt like the most special person in the world and you had liked that feeling more than you had liked being with Justin.

You had made your mind up, drastically driven by lust and infatuation; you had given into Ellie, and you had felt like you had chosen a choice that would bring all variety of chaos, but, yet, within that chaos you’d still be with Ellie. “Fine, I’ll break up with him.”

songs that fit this song ��

⟶ lana del rey ft the weeknd - lust for life. [evidently]

⟶ cafuné - tek it.

⟶ ariana grande - break up with your girlfriend, i'm bored.

⟶ rae sremmurd - guatemala.

[requests are closed, until i post five chapters of a song of thorns they will open again]. if you want to join a the last of us discord/joel miller discord here you go! 𓆩♡𓆪

masterlist

@daenerysluvrr thank you for the comment! and thank you for everyone else who supported fade into you! :)

♆

#ellie williams #ellie x reader #ellie williams imagine #elliewilliams #ellie williams x you #ellie williams imagines #ellie williams x reader #the last of us #tlou #thelastofus2 #thelastofustwo #tlouii

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rantsofamadam · 2 days ago

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I hate you Lady Liberty.

I hate you Bronx.

I hate you Madison.

I hate you Brooklyn.

I hate you Manhattan.

I hate you.

You’re painful.

I’m sorry.

It’s not your fault.

I hate your reminders.

I hate your memories.

I hate the feelings that I get when I think of you. Suffocating, helpless feelings I can never vocalize.

It’s not your fault, although I was never big for traveling.

…it’s not their fault either.

But I hate you white chocolate.

I hate you ghostbusters.

I hate you Iron Maiden.

I hate you Amethyst.

I hate you Guitar Hero.

I hate you purple.

I hate you New York.

Because I miss you too much.

Happy memories turned to painful reminders.

I hate them.

I hate pain.

It’s not your fault.

Don’t blame yourself.

I’ll blame myself for you anyways.

“Forget me” you say. “Just say goodbye and forget I ever existed.”

Ha.

Like I even could.

Believe me, some days I wish I could-

I wish I could look at the color purple and not feel like crying some days.

I wish I could go to New York and enjoy it for the city instead of the association I’ve made.

But I physically can’t without someone mind erase potion.

Even then would I want to?

You- …were… my best friend.

I wish I could get that back.

I don’t know if I ever can…

But at least- I can’t just forget.

I can never forget.

I know.

I know what water tastes like.

I can picture the flavor, the sensation, the quench of thirst.

Yet I still feel thirsty.

The memory doesn’t do it justice.

I know what your hand feels like.

I know what your hugs feel like.

I spend the night daydreaming.

Picturing you next to me.

The warmth of your hand.

Your hug. Your smile. You.

Yet the most vivid mental pictures my small brain can conjure, can never replace your presence.

My daydreams and memories cannot give me the same comfort you do when you’re here.

God how I wish you were here.

And not just a daydream.

“Bye.”

Oh fuck.

How I hate that word.

Not even a ‘good’ attached.

Only panic and fear attached.

This isn’t a ‘see ya’ or ‘ttyl’- no.

This is permanent.

I’ve heard it so many times.

The countless ‘bye’s they’ve told me,

More panic added each time.

Not sure which are tests, and which are reality.

They all feel the same to me.

It’s one thing for them to say ‘bye.’

Their only side of this twisted puzzle of hopelessness and loss.

It’s harder for them to leave alone.

They usually always return. Why?

Perhaps slightly out if loneliness. The thought of being an abandoner. But mostly- to beg.

Beg me to say ‘bye’ back.

To finish the puzzle. More like destroy.

To leave them back. To strand eachother. To share the pain so they don’t suffer alone, forced to stay.

They beg. They scream. But I don’t.

It’s easier to leave when someone hates you back. But I can’t.

I can’t abandon them. I can’t leave them stranded. I can’t I can’t I can’t.

I’m terrified beyond words. So I sit there, saying nothing.

Our messages illuminating my face in the shadows of my room.

“Seen 1hr ago.”

Fuck.

What should I say.

I just want them back.

I just want them to be ok.

But everything feels like a dead end. Hopelessness. Nothing. No other options but to say goodbye. But I can’t I can’t I just can’t I can’t give up I can’t let them do anything to themself I can’t say goodbye.

So I torture myself.

And search for words in my speechless mind.

I’m weak. I’m so weak.

My friends are the strong ones.

Fighting to exist in their homes.

Fighting to exist with themselves.

Fighting for healing to trauma.

Fighting to someday be ok.

She’s the strong one.

She’s the one still fighting to be alive.

Me? I’m weak.

I can barely handle fighting for her to be alive.

Seeing the color purple makes me sting. A color. So weak.

What’s wrong with me.

People go through suicidal thoughts. Attempts.

People have been through loved ones suicides.

Witnessed them.

And here I am-

Crying over a person I’ve never met.

Writing over a person I’ve never met.

Barely talk to anymore.

My stupid empty brain.

I’m a stupid emotional mess.

I need to stop acting like I’m the only one in the world who matters.

I have it easy. I should be grateful.

…

I need to shut up.

I don’t need this.

#writing #romance #poetry #beauty #writerscommunity #writers and poets #writeblr #writers on tumblr #write #writingprompts #vent blog #personal vent #vent post #vent

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thatoneterrariaplayers-vault · 3 months ago

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Dangerous Moons - Chapter 3 - First day on the job

The soft patter of rain on the metal roof is what wakes me. Evelyn is probably still asleep so I should be quiet. Peace, another thing I took for granted back then, the ability to sit with my own thoughts and just exist without disruption or fear. That peace however is short lived because Evelyn shoves open her front door like it has murdered her family. I honestly thought she was sound asleep. “Rise and shine sleepy! We have a whole day of preparations to get to.” she exclaims.

ll I can manage are the sounds of discontent at the sounds of my now disturbed peace. Old habits die hard, especially the ones involving sleeping and being lazy. “What time is it anyway?” I ask. “Almost time for lunch.” she says. “I’ve been asleep that long huh?” “It honestly looked like you needed it. Anyways you should get yourself ready and I’ll debrief you over some food.” Evelyn lends me a spare jacket and some clothes along side a pair of hefty boots. After the shower I come out and smell eggs and bacon sizzling away on the stove. Sitting down on the couch Evelyn brings out the food and begins to tell me what she has planned,“Simply put, it looks like our time on this planet is done.” “I just got here!” I protest. “So did I! Its in the nature of the job. Back to the plan however. My employer just told me where I can find my target.” she rambles on while biting her food. “Your target is who now exactly?” “Mob boss Daren Galcharon, a local big shot who has ties within syndicate, his gang acting as a police force on this dump of a planet because the actual law enforcement is to lazy and too underpaid to deal with him. This obviously allows him to supersede the actual laws and regulations while the real cops do jack.” she says, “What’s your fighting capacity like anyways?” “Oh, me? I honestly prefer fighting with swords.” “Swords? Among the brilliant weapon choices in these galaxies and you chose the way of the blade!” she protests. “You’re one to talk. Your’e not any better with those archaic pistols you wield.” I protest in return. “Please at least tell me you are good with those rust sticks of yours.” “Rust sticks! I am offended by such, you would never know the time and dedication it takes to not only train but also maintain these master class weapons, without enough training some could become good enough to block bullets even.”,I’m pissed and I’ve just woken up, “I prefer the elegance of my blade better than the barbaric bite of your bullets.” Evelyn casts me a glance that screams, ‘are you out of your mind?’ Evelyn’s facial expressions changes drastically, from her frustration with me to now looking sad and pensive. “Hey, what’s up?” I ask not expecting any solid answer. “Oh nothing, you just remind me of someone I knew.”,she says, ”Anyways, time to get yourself up and out of that bed and get ready, we have some stuff we need to do, before needing to leave.” She hastily gathers herself off the couch, taking the emptied plates of food along with her. “Hey Evelyn, why are you so eager to work with me? A stranger you met in the dark hours of the night.”,I ask. “Well firstly, we all hate Gary. At least I do and therefore the enemy of my enemy is my friend. Secondly. My previous partner was a real damn idiot and got himself killed, while you seem like the adequate replacement, nimble, fast to react to changes. Curious.” “How did he pass?” I feel as though this question might have struck a nerve but I am to curious not to ask. “Tried to double cross me. I showed him though, put two bullets in the dirtbags hands and then one last one with the infamous big one to his ugly head.” she flaunts her draw by spinning a mug from her hip, “But you won’t try to cross me now will you?” “Because the stranger with no family or place to call home will betray their only beacon of hope? Very realistic.” my sarcasm steeps the musty rooms atmosphere. “Anyways, we will have to go out and get some supplies for the ship”

“Well look what we have here?”, the man’s rough voice could be heard from outside on the roof of the warehouse. Peeking through the large skylights up there we could see the interrogation scene. In the centre of the floor is a chair where one poor man is tied onto it a bag over his head. “Let’s show this young man here, what happens when you mess with me.” Evelyn nudges me gently, “The man you saw, he is our target. A powerful close range fighter. Any questions?” “Just one. Why do you not just shoot him from over here with the big gun?”, I ask. “Well you see. It’s super loud. Also the bullets are expensive. I choose to save these for rainy days.”, Evelyn answers. Suddenly our attention is diverted to the sound of Galcharon breaking what might have been that guy’s jaw. “He’s not surviving this is he?”, I ask. “Probably not. I wonder what the poor guy did to deserve this fate.”, Evelyn seems eager to drop in and begin this mission. Time for my first taste of her combat personality. Galcharon’s arms looked like logs with barbells attached to their ends. Both Veins and muscles are displayed in high definition. His fist rained down on the man’s frail body, each hit morphing the shape of it into an unrecognizable lump. Evelyn warns me, “Ready when you are.” “Right. Let’s do this.”

Crashing through the window we ride down with a wave of glass. The initial break announced our arrival as everyone gazed up to our entrance. Ripping the man of the chair Galcharon used him as a shield to block the initial assault of glass, while his two henchmen dashed away from the window. “And who the fuck might you be?” he asks. “Your worst nightmare!” Evelyn taunts. She really does not realize how terrible that line sounded out loud right? Evelyn spins her revolver from her hip sending off a shot. It hits something alright, not our target but the poor sap in the chair. “interesting, very interesting. I never did expect the great Evelyn Deadeye to hunt me down but my goons did mention something about you being close.” he rants on. Evelyn casts me a gaze of confusion and anger. “Hey! Look at me when I talk to you.”, Galcharon demands, he has his gun drawn now, it looks puny in his mammoth hands. “let’s get this done with.”,Evelyn says while cracking her knuckles. My swords have been itching for a fight. Before the confrontation began, Evelyn handed me a semi-automatic pistol capable of supressing a nearby target, she referred to it as a ‘M1911’, not only is it somehow heavier than both my swords combined but it is also about as useful as a dull kitchen knife in terms of efficiency. More harmful to me than my target due to its terrible weight balance and the magazines holding barely any ammunition. It really does not help that Galcharon’s skin may as well be made of thick steel. I imagine the projectiles this thing fires will physically bounce off his reinforced nanite skin. I see her to taking cover nearby, the bosses goons had opened fire down the middle of the warehouse, the wave of pulse-fire would certainly fry anyone caught in its wake. When the gunfire stops Evelyn makes her first move. A quick shot with her weapon taking out one of the unsuspecting gunmen. Before the fools could realise it Evelyn had already changed her shooting angle so that, after the remaining four finished shooting at where she was last she could skilfully take out another two. Watching her work was unlike anything I’ve ever seen, the absolute grace in her movements, the skilful aim of her guns where each shot found its target with deadly precision as she dodged and weaved between bullets and obstacles. Entranced, I barely noticed the six foot tall train of a man Galcharon approach me ready to beat my face and body into a different shape. Bracing, the screech from my blades as the punch pushed my heels into the ground pushing me a distance across the floor. “So, who are you girl? Another one of her toys. Who she will just dispose of when she’s bored or tired of you?”, he asks. His words make me unsteady and he sees that, taking full advantage of my confusion and inaction. “Or, you are someone more special, more valuable than she has realised yet.” he taunts, “No matter you will both be back where you belong in due time.” Then, the world went dark. As I drift once again into unconsciousness.

My head is throbbing in pain as I awake in a strange location. I can feel the whirring of an engine, the steady vibrations can be felt through the floors. Evelyn is sitting on a chair in a corner of the room in total silence. “Look who’s finally awake. That guy really knocked you out cold! You have been out for hours.”, Evelyn says rising out of her chair, she walks over to the bed and sits at the foot of it. “I suppose you and I have many things to talk about now.” her tone is condescending, “Like who you really are, miss violet.” “What’s their to talk about, I got knocked out by the guy.” “That’s not what I want to talk about, it is actually what happened just after you got knocked out. See the boss mentioned something intriguing, so intriguing I had to delay his murder to question him and he revealed to me something shocking to me.” “What is this about Evelyn?” “Who are you really running from?” Evelyn leans closer to me,”And what makes you special that the Syndicate’s bounty on you is larger than any ever seen for some common criminal.”

Evelyn is pacing around the room, “Any answers runaway?” My heart and brain are racing for an answer, any answer. Anything but the truth. “Truth is.” my body freezes at the thought of it. “Truth is what! Knowing your Syndicate property puts so much more at risk! You are currently the galaxies most sought after woman and I’m the one who so happens to be taking care of her. I knew your face looked familiar too I just could not remember from where I saw it from.” I try to muster the courage for words but all that can come out are the silent cries for help. “Look, Violet. I won’t just toss you to the damn dogs like that, It’s beneath me really, but I can’t help but feel betrayed that you would skip out such a huge detail about yourself. I can tell you’ve been through it, especially with that prosthetic arm of yours.” “You don’t have to help me. All I am is trouble for you in reality.” “It’s not about whether or not you are trouble.” Evelyn’s words resonate with something Inside me, “I used to be like you, in parts I still am, my past is filled with troubles too. I’ve faced most of them being out here, the vastness of these stars allow one to really connect with yourself and reflect. That and the countless of bastards I murdered for what they did to me.” “Are you wanted by the Syndicate too?” “No but maybe I’ll tell you that story another time when I’m ready myself to reface those fears.” Evelyn’s words sound almost regretful. Then without warning, she embraced me in a warm hug. It’s a strange feeling, I’ve grown accustomed to being grabbed and tossed around by cold hands. I’m not very proud of what I have done to get here, those I had to kill. I can’t really help myself at this point, holding it in has become a burden and the tears start to fall. “It’s fine to cry now, you’re safe here.” safety, her words pierce the regrets and doubts of my past. Perhaps finally I can start again and figure out what to do with myself. I don’t remember when I drifted to sleep that day but when I did, I felt the warmth and smell of her body.

#sci fi #science fiction #scifi #writeblr #writing #writers #oc writing #dangerous moons #series

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silver-rings-and-rabbits · 1 year ago

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Open Heart Second Year, chapter 12

It’s too soon. I’ve always thought the jump from attack to memorial was too quick. There was still so many characters we didn’t see during chapter 11 (Naveen, Harper, Zaid, Ines, Esme) and we needed a chapter just to absorb everything that happened.

My personal hc was that Raf could go home as long as he had someone looking after him. He had Juliana, but MC’s roommates would all be working long hours so he ended up staying in hospital a bit longer.

I know in reality PB couldn’t be bothered to rewrite this small detail.

Juliana ❤️ I miss my grandma…

One of Ethan’s diamond scenes prompts you to help him fix a relationship, and if you’re romancing him, it suggests you can restart your own. Rafael gets a similar prompt for his chapter 12 scene but the prompt to rekindle an old flame appears whether you’re romancing him or not.

Just another dialogue point that doesn’t change and therefore doesn’t make sense, or at least sounds weird on his path. For example:

(That’s an interesting way to describe a break-up). It makes sense on his romance path…but why would a friendly MC grow apart from him? On my Ethan playthrough I believed my MC was really happy for Raf and Sora and invited them both out when the group met up. There’s certain dialogues I now won’t take for Raf’s platonic route to avoid these, but it’s pretty rubbish if it wasn’t intended to be romantic. At least PB had the foresight to change the dialogue during the kissing scene.

So are you ❤️ (he’s right though)

Matthew, you’re going to a funeral. Stop looking hot.

“Just like that”. Astute observation, PB.

And the whole scene of the wake. Every single time, my mind replaces Danny and Bobby with Rafael and I wonder whether the memorial would have been very different or would it still feel rushed and uncaring? Only half the friend group were given funeral outfits for gods sake.

And PB did it again:

Not letting me visit my own love interest. And this was after the rewrites. Why couldn’t MC go back to Rafael?? I don’t even care that they wouldn’t have sex, they needed to spend time together. After a book full of two Ethan scenes per chapter, you suddenly can’t do that?? Bullshit.

And to think…we were a few days away from this being Rafael’s funeral.

(I chose Jackie, again because it made sense with her and Matthew living together, but the choices are either awkwardly navigating flirty dialogue or leaving her crying that it should have been her funeral.)

There’s mentions of Elijah really struggling through the service, something he’s been to too many of, and it’s never mentioned again. We don’t get to catch up with Bryce at all unless we choose him at the end. And Jackie will tell you about how much she hates the person she sees in the mirror, only to never bring it up again.

On Ethan’s romance path, he gets extra dialogue at the beginning AND during the memorial.

My thoughts at this point:

This whole situation was handled so gracelessly. It doesn’t get the build-up it deserves, and the aftermath is treated like an obligation to get through. As I mentioned before, the character who actually gets all the emotion is the character who was never in danger (Ethan). But we don’t have the time or money to give everyone else the same, so rather than spreading their resources between the LIs, PB wrote dialogue in a weird halfway spot: awkward if you’re not romancing them, not deep enough and now cheapened if you are romancing them.

And then we know MC goes back to the hospital before they’re ready and absolutely nothing comes from it.

The characters faced something deeply traumatic that would have killed them, but the funeral is then rushed, characters aren’t looked after, and then before you can say ‘free healthcare’ we’re back at the diagnostics team like nothing happened because apparently nothing is more important than Ethan and MC.

Mature and emotional storyline my ass. The attack was put in to knock off a LI for shock value and nothing more.

#playchoices #open heart #open heart second year #Rafael aveiro #I hate this whole thing #possibly even more now I’m looking deeply into it

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hmsharmony · 2 years ago

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5. 10. 19.

Apologies in advance for this having nothing to do with Spider-Man until 19. 😬

5. Has fandom ever ruined a pairing for you?

Merlin/Arthur how I loathe thee. The racism and misogyny I had to witness (e.g., petition to replace Angel with Colin when she was scheduled to do an interview with Bradley). I began the show shipping everyone in the core four (although Arthur/Gwen was my OTP), but the treatment of Gwen by many Merthur shippers soured me on the ship. The final nail in the coffin was when a friend, an Arthur/Merlin shipper, found out I shipped Arthur/Gwen and expressed disgust. Fuck that.

10. Most disliked arc? Why?

The one that immediately comes to mind (which will not come as a shock to anyone who was around in 2011/2012) is Merlin’s “Gwen is enchanted to kiss zombie!Lancelot the night of her wedding, Arthur finds them, and he banishes her from Camelot on pain of death because ‘I don’t want to see you dead but I don’t want to see you.’”

A few things that fill me with rage to this day:

zero agency for Gwen (who never finds out she was enchanted the actual fuck!!!);

Arthur using his power as king to deal with a personal issue;*

Gwen going through literal hell on her own (taken captive and visuals/language making clear her captor plans to sexually assault her; escaping when she discovers her captor is working with Morgana and they plan to harm Camelot so even though she can’t return ON PAIN OF DEATH she makes her way back anyway; almost freezing to death during said journey; getting chased down by Morgana, who knocks her out and turns her into a DEER while Arthur is going on a hunting party with a prospective bride; said woman SHOOTING DEER GWEN WITH AN ARROW)

Gwen saying she has what she deserves when she tells Merlin she can’t return to Camelot because she betrayed Arthur;

Arthur finding her ring in the middle of the forest and not wondering WHY it was there or if she’s okay; and

an underwhelming resolution where everything is swept under the rug and they IMMEDIATELY GET MARRIED DESPITE THERE CLEARLY BEING MAJOR TRUST ISSUES AND GWEN MOST DEFINITELY HAVING PTSD WHAT ARE YOU DOING

(Bonus Gwen saying she can’t forgive herself and Arthur saying he doesn’t care I am still livid and it has been more than a decade let Gwen have negative feelings!!!)

Took me literal years to love that ship again because of this storyline.

*It would have been much more interesting if it had been framed as “it’s either saving the woman you love or upholding the law” like they did in Camelot. The show (claimed) to be in large part about how Arthur would create a new, fair Camelot (lmao). They missed a perfect chance to have him wrestle with what that means and the sort of king he wanted to be. I kind of played with that in the spec fic I wrote for 4x09, but to this day I want so much more.

19. What is one thing you hate most about your fandom?

I want to preface this by saying that, because of previous fandom experiences (including the infamous Harry Potter ship wars during my formative years), I was careful to cultivate my Spider-Man fandom experience from the get-go. My first couple years I literally only talked to existing friends who also loved PeterMJ (save for one fanvid I made in late 2019, but really I was just thanking people for commenting). It’s only in the past ~year I started interacting with new people, and even then I’m still very careful about expanding my bubble. So I’ve insulated myself pretty well, and I mostly have only secondhand knowledge of the horrendous side of this fandom (versus my merlin days where I would explore outside my bubble and see so much fucked up shit, usually of the racism variety).

With that out of the way: this is so minor in the scheme of things, but whenever someone calls MCU PeterMJ a slow burn I want to rip my face off. I love these kids but what they had was the exact opposite of a slow burn. And it’s not because it was done in one movie—When Harry Met Sally is 100% a slow burn in my book, and yes, the focus is that relationship, but there WERE things homecoming or far from home could have done. Not putting in the work to establish an existing relationship and instead going straight to Peter liking her is not a slow burn. (Now the way they hinted at MJ’s feelings in Homecoming? That was slow burn potential. Would’ve killed for something similar for Peter. And I say this as someone who had the biggest goddamn smile on her face everything they interacted when I first saw Far From Home.)

Salty Ask Game

#Merlin s4 #in all its shame #shipping: arthur and gwen #clearly never over s4 because look at the caps lock #Harry potter mention for the blacklist #spiderman (mcu)#shipping: peter and mj #it’s been so long since I did a good nice rant #I feel freed

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evanthenerd83 · 4 days ago

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"Third Person: A Marvin Mission"

I blink, and I’m sitting in a chair.

The familiarity of my cabin no longer applies. Crispy paper is now imperceptible. Someone clears their throat.

I can hardly see anything. Someone strikes a match, flame flickering.

A ghostly face materializes.

Fear is replaced by anger.

Words begin assembling themselves on the tip of my tongue, but I hold back. No sense making things worse by biting the hand that feeds me.

Or… the hand that pays me.

Though, honestly, nothing would really change.

Silhouettes come into view. A desk separates us. Blinds where a window would be, closed.

A cabinet stands nearby.

The doors are slightly ajar, and I can see something inside.

Something red.

“Ellen,” I whisper.

Ellen takes a drag of her cigarette.

“Marvin.”

She nods.

“What’s up,” I blink again.

My vision begins to adjust. Everything becomes a little bit clearer.

Her office is drab.

Sparsely decorated or furnished, aside from her desk and chair and cabinet.

A vast expanse of polished marble. A high ceiling meets tall windows on all sides. These would reveal the familiar New York City skyline.

If the sun wasn’t currently setting.

Ellen hates it. Especially now, when the color is no doubt shifting, turning a deep, dark red. She won’t say why.

Of course, I know why. Doesn’t matter how much she tries to hide, feelings will always hit me.

That red shade descending upon the Big Apple?

It reminds her of blood. Carnage. Human meat rendered into ground beef. And she has seen enough of such things.

I can’t blame her.

Not really.

“Not much.”

A minute passes by. During that time, neither of us will speak. We lap up the silence, letting it settle.

You could hear a pin drop.

“Uh… Ellen?”

She doesn’t respond. Her lips stay pursed.

Her cigarette nears its inevitable end. It burns down an inch.

“Ellen,” I cough. “I…”

“Marvin.”

I instantly close my yap.

Her voice just then. Jesus Christ.

It was empty, hollowed out. Lacking her usual weapons-grade wit.

Not just that. It’s also hoarse, rubbed dry; bleeding and raw.

Almost as if…

Ellen takes another drag. Breathing in its sweet poison. She kills the gasper, but doesn’t use her new ashtray. The one Nessie gave her, a crystal affair.

She instead stabs it into her desk.

Violently.

“I’m going on a date.”

She lets those words settle. I roll them around my mind, tasting them. I find them rather bland and basic.

“You’re doing what now?”

“I’m going on a date.”

“A… date?”

“Yes. A date.”

I blink.

“Is this code?”

A snicker tears through her slender throat. A subtle curl of her lips, paler than moonlight.

“Oh, Marvin. You really don’t trust anyone, do you?”

The remark cuts deep. Fresh blood welts up from the wound, igniting emotions like gasoline. A word builds on my tongue.

I could say it. I really could. And her response wouldn’t be that terrible. She might get angry, might threaten to Erase me.

Even though doing so would put the efficiency of META at risk.

They’d lose their trump card.

All because of an emotional gamble.

But despite my urge to unleash a certain five-letter word, I hold it in.

I choose an alternate path.

“You’re going on a date. May I ask who you’ll be meeting?”

“Just some guy?”

Ellen nods. “Just some guy.”

She gets up from her desk.

My eyes have grown accustomed to the dark. Blame my nature as an imaginary friend.

I finally notice what, admittedly, should have been obvious. She has shed the top layer of her uniform. The jacket evades discovery.

Her business shirt is white.

And untucked.

Huh. I’ve never seen her like this before.

Ellen is usually a lot more tidy. A business-focused perfectionist obsessed with maintaining order. Her desk contains multitudes of stacks. Files are alphabetized.

Disorganized interns get the shaft.

“Does this guy have a name?”

She turns around.

“Where does he work?”

No reply. She reaches into the wardrobe.

I lean back, cross my arms. “Can you at least tell me how you met him?”

No dice. She fiddles with something, most likely the red thing I saw earlier.

A hanger bangs against wood. I can’t see it, but I hear it. The sound echoes as if this room were a cave.

Frustration reaches a fever pitch, and I do the unthinkable. I lean back in my seat. I put my boots up.

There. That will do. Now she will have to respond, or else her silence will be misconstrued. I will think silence counts as permission.

I’ll get my dirty boots, the soles blackened by dried ink, all over her precious desk.

Again and again. I smirk, wait for the jolt. The slow turn of her head. The glare to fall upon me like God’s wrath on Sodom and Gomorrah.

Old testament punishment from my creator.

She simply continues fiddling with a hanger.

“None of your business, Marvin.”

My smirk melts.

“All you need to know is this…”

She turns back around, and I can see it.

The dress. I do not know where she got it from, since I’ve never seen her wear one. It must be on loan. Maybe Nessie.

Maybe Bill stopped by again. At that thought, anger flares up inside me.

I bite my tongue.

I feel the rage fade away as quickly as it came.

“Uh, Marvin?”

I find Ellen staring at me.

“Can you turn around? Or leave the room? I need to change.”

I stand outside her office.

Silence surrounds me. It’s just us. Everyone else has left the building for the night.

Most would have done so early. Why wouldn’t they? Tonight’s the night for lovers to dance in the moonlight.

For lips to meet in conspiratorial darkness.

For hands to explore unseen depths.

For couples.

I sigh. The sound is thrown back at me.

I’m single. On Valentine’s Day. Social interactions are brief and inconsequential. No use getting close to other people, for I am a ghost.

No use asking Ellen to make an imaginary friend of my own. She won’t. And I’ll never ask her to.

Creating me took blood, sweat, and tears.

Emotional trauma. Nightmares. The pain of losing something invaluable, cherished.

The power which Creates comes with a heavy price. Most of those who try go mad. Others are torn apart by their own malformed ideas.

We’ve stopped experiments, and I’ve cleaned up what is ultimately left in their wake.

I close my eyes.

What I see is hell. Hell is blood and guts, intestines strewn about, faces staring at you in abject, nut-shrinking terror. Hell is finding an ink-drowned cradle.

When compared against those cases, loneliness seems far better. Far less messy.

A faint squeaking sound.

I open my eyes.

A young woman steps out. Heels click on polished marble. She fishes a key from her pitch black purse. Twists it.

The locking mechanism engages. For a split second, symbols flash. They float in the air. They were always there.

The woman returns it. She turns around to fix her gaze upon me.

“You ready to go?”

I blink.

This stranger tilts her head. “What? Why're you looking at me like that?”

I shake my head. Shock dissipates.

“N-no reason,” I stammer.

The dress fits her perfectly, almost too well.

Red, cotton fabric, a special affair. The yellow belt accentuates her thin waist.

The skirt reveals legs smooth as ebony. Moonlight white skin without mole or wrinkle. I am in awe.

I look away.

“You were saying,” cough. “Something before…”

A moment of confusion. Then realization.

Ellen snaps her fingers, then goes to walk down the lengthy corridor. In the direction of the elevators.

I follow.

“So…”

“Okay, Marvin. Here’s the deal.”

“Tell me, baby.”

She rolls her eyes. “Christ on a bike.”

I chuckle.

We reach the elevators, one of which is waiting for us. We step inside it.

The doors close. Jazz music starts to play from speakers in the ceiling. This is rather nice.

“You will… attend me… on my, uh, date.”

Ellen stands with both feet together. Her voice is soft, yet edgy. I recognize the tone almost immediately: self-preservation.

“Oh,” I smirk. “Chaperone duty.”

“Observation duty,” she kicks my shin.

The elevator shudders as floors go by. Eighteenth floor. Seventeenth floor. Sixteenth floor.

“Ok. Observation duty.”

“You will pretend not to know me.”

I look at her.

“Wait. I’m going to be—”

She shoots me a glare. “Yes. You will be inside the restaurant.”

“O-oh,” I look away from her. “Ok.”

“Order whatever you want. Eat as much as you want. I don’t give a shi—”

I wave my hands.

“Wait. Wait, wait, wait, wait. What restaurant?”

“Galente,” Ellen taps her foot.

My mouth falls open. Shock renders my spine jelly, and I fall back into the wall.

Ellen smirks. A sharp expression. Her eyes remain locked on the monitor above the elevator buttons.

“Surprised?”

I pick my jaw off the floor.

“When did you—”

“Reserve a seat? Didn’t have to. Owner’s a family friend.”

“A family frie—”

Wait.

Wait. Wait a minute.

“... Hey. I can’t go into Galente!”

She whips towards me. A little eyebrow curls as if irradiated.

“And why the fuck not?”

I gesture towards my current attire.

“I can’t wear this inside—”

She looks me up and down.

She looks me in the eye.

She smirks. “Marvin, what are you talking about?”

I spread my arms wide. “What are you talking about, Ell? Look at me! I’m—”

My eyes glance down for just a split second. Then I notice. Words fail to do my transformation justice.

Ellen looks back at the numbers. “You clean up nice.”

Goodbye brown trench coat, rumpled slacks, and combat boots. Hello, mysterious new suit. It matches my hair. Pure black.

The undershirt is conventional white. The tie has stripes. The shoes are polished enough to reflect my bewilderment back at me.

Oh.

Well then.

Heat in my cheeks. Shame in my bones.

“Th-thank… You?”

“You’re welcome.”

Finally. Our descent ends. One final beep, and the doors open.

Ellen instantly passes through. I’m so distracted by my transformation that I have to play catch up.

“So what about… ?”

My right hand feels different. Like something’s…

… I glance.

A credit card has appeared. Ellen’s credit card.

The light gray color is a dead giveaway. As is the image visible behind all of the relevant information. A pen and a sword clutched in one hand.

META’s official logo.

Words run beneath this strange new tool.

Gladius super calamum

Latin. Roughly translated? “Sword over the pen.”

“Did you just give me your—”

Ellen comes to the first of several security checkpoints. Two machines resembling metal detectors and X-ray monitors.

“Yes. I did. Get a move on, Marvin.”

She steps through one.

Part of me, tiny, sniffling, composed of childhood trauma, cringes in silent dread. It always fears what the future may bring.

The alarm could go off any second now. A banshee’s wail that will forever separate us. The red light could start flashing.

Both of our lives could end right this second.

Against my better nature, I breathe in.

“We’re running late.”

She reaches the other side without triggering it. I breathe out.

Galente is a beauty.

Small. Brick and glass. The sign has wrinkles from age.

Roof glints. Moonlight kissing the panels so carefully laid overhead. During the day, it burns, brighter than the sun.

A mercy.

I whistle. My eyes glance at Ellen.

She applies lipstick. Bright red. Blood red.

A shudder slowly builds. Memories scream from the past.

I bite my tongue. My own scream never comes.

If it did…

… I look away.

Galente sits, isolated. A building surrounded by trees. Botany is not my strong suit, so I can’t recognize which kind.

But I do know professionalism when I see it. And whoever trimmed these trees was a professional.

The leaves barely move.

Even as Old Man Winter whispers. Begging for euthanasia.

A short footpath cuts through the mini-grove. Concrete. It is nearly clear.

Aside from…

I tap Ellen’s shoulder. “Is that—”

“Yep.”

Somebody stands near the entrance. A guy, obviously.

He lifts one arm. Glinting steel reveals the wristwatch, even at this distance. Has he been waiting long?

Apparently.

He lowers the arm. Visibly sighs.

He turns towards us.

Sees us. And…

“Ah!”

Ellen blinks. In my peripheral vision. All of my attention is on him, whoever he is.

Suspicion grows. His face doesn’t ring a bell. Neither does his voice. He starts jogging towards us, smiling; white teeth.

Tension.

He might have a weapon, a gun or a knife. This could be a distraction. Somebody will jump out of the shadows, or two; maybe more.

They’ll surround us.

Incapacitate us.

That is always a possibility.

Considering how Ellen is the director of META. Very important person. Quasi-governmental official.

I nearly step forward.

But before I can, Ellen moves first.

She speed-walks. A very fast stick.

They meet halfway.

“Ellen Shirley?”

“Michael Finch?”

They both nod.

Introductions concluded.

Then comes the silence. An awkward, heart-squeezing lull in conversation.

The two of them stand there. Feet apart. Eyes locked on each other.

Like characters with no script to follow.

A gust comes and goes. Ellen’s hair flutters. For a few seconds, I lose sight of Michael, the suspicion twitching.

But only for a few seconds.

“So…”

Words overlap. It would be cute, cliche.

If I wasn’t worried about outside intrusion.

My eyes scan the footpath. Shadows loom between each tree. I search for the slightest movement.

The glint of metal.

Another gust. This one is harsher. The chill feels sharp against my face.

Really wish I had a beard right about now. Or could grow one.

Ellen shudders. She wraps her arms around herself. Goosebumps flare up and down the exposed skin.

“Um. Micheal?”

“Yes?”

“Can we, maybe, go inside?”

“Oh. Oh god. I’m sorry.”

The kid steps to the side, gestures towards the front door.

Ellen flashes a quick smile. Reassuring supernova. Then her eyes fly towards me, and I understand.

‘Lay low,’ those eyes of hers say. ‘Don’t do anything stupid, and I’ll pay you.’

I smile back.

“Miss Shirley?”

The woman approaches.

A railroad spike on legs. A golden retriever, but with black hair and green eyes.

Sweet.

I let Ellen and Michael go first. It is their dinner date, after all. They deserve at least some modicum of privacy.

Some.

As for me?

I’m nobody.

The nameless bodyguard. A third wheel. No one is supposed to know I exist, especially not the general public.

Thankfully I don’t show up on media. Video. Audio. Good luck collecting evidence. Many have tried. All failed.

To the average American, I’m a cryptid. Urban legend.

I like it that way.

Ellen nods. “Yes.”

The woman absorbs. Then her smile widens.

“Excellent. We’re ready for you now. Please follow me.”

She turns around. The lovebirds do what they’re told. And they do it hand-in-hand.

His are bigger. They enter the dining area, disappear. I clench a fist until it hurts. A second later, the woman returns.

She slips back behind the podium. White hands clasped on top. Her eyes meet mine, then her head tilts.

“Can I help you, sir?”

I approach.

Her smile dips ever slightly. Can’t blame her though. Dogs frequently bark whenever I’m around. Cats hiss.

“Uh,” I cough. “Yes ma’am. I’m with her.”

Confusion. Furrowed brows.

A momentary frown. Fear spreads through my chest. For a second, I worry.

I think we’ve finally been separated. Cleaved. That if anything happens, I won’t be there. Won’t be near enough.

“Your name is… ?”

My mouth falls open. Even though I don’t have the words. No one told me I’d be making a speech.

What do I—

Mr. Spade, Ellen’s voice pipes up.

Shockingly clear. Yet fuzzy at the same time. Like she is talking right into my ear.

“Spade. S-p-a-d-e.”

The woman blinks once, twice, thrice. Then it hits. Her eyes suddenly refocus.

And she smiles, wider than ever. Apologetically.

“Oh. Oh! Mister Spade! Right, right, right. This way.”

Fear vanishes. Replaced with relief. I say a prayer under my breath.

Thank god for the Cord.

Ellen and the kid sip wine.

A prickle shoots up my spine. Despite her being of legal age, it still feels weird. She never drinks.

Barely eats either. That pencil-thin stature of hers isn’t from healthy living. She skips out on breakfast, lunch, and dinner most nights.

Work can steal time away. LRCB has no schedule. It can’t be predicted either by man or machine.

Comes and goes.

One may try to understand the hows and the whys, but doing so only spawns more questions, like what. And soon, you’ll start questioning reality itself. You’ll become unmoored.

Ill. Mad.

All we can do is react to ongoing emergencies and grope blindly with precautions.

It’s a wonder that Ellen’s hair hasn’t gone gray.

I side-eye the two lovebirds warily. We’re the only ones in the dining area, dark and hollow with silence. So sound travels loud and clear.

“How long have you been working for META?”

She puts her glass down, swallows. “Seven years.”

The kid whistles. His eyebrows go up. Slight color flares underneath the skin of her cheek.

“That’s a long time.”

“Yes. It is.”

“I’m amazed you’ve lasted this long.”

Now her eyebrow arches. Her smile slips into a smirk. “Oh?”

“I mean… Isn’t it dangerous? Messing with stuff like that?”

It is for humans, her voice in my mind.

I agree.

Michael looks around, apparently ignoring my obvious presence. He leans forward.

Jeez.

Thanks chum.

A finger wriggles. Come closer. Ellen does, twisting her head, which exposes her right ear. She no longer grins.

I tense up.

Talking is fine. But to get so close, too close, pinches a nerve. Whatever part of me that was once a part of her whimpers.

Suspicion tugs its leash. Rabid with childish fear.

No.

Bad Marvin.

Calm down, old boy.

Take a deep breath and—

“Um… Your order, sir?”

We all order our food.

Michael gets lasagna. Ellen chooses fettuccine alfredo. I pick the only Italian dish that I can pretend to tolerate, which is…

“... Mediterranean flatbread, please.”

My waiter— name’s Emilio— takes a now useless menu. Then disappears. So does theirs, a doll named Francesca. Solitude resumes.

Solitude and darkness.

“No. You’re right. It is a miracle.”

My ears twitch.

“So how do you do it? How do you survive?”

Ellen reaches for her glass.

“I… I don’t think I understand. Do you mean… Physically? Mentally? You need to clarify the question.”

I reach for mine.

Michael takes a deep breath.

Ellen sips.

“Spiritually.”

Ellen swallows.

“I didn’t.”

“Come again?”

“Let me ask you a question, Michael.”

Ellen fixes him with her Shirley stare. The room grows cold. Even from a couple of feet away, I feel it.

Shame. I can practically envision myself getting fired. Whipped by her tongue. This in spite of my position being for life.

No.

Not for life. For existence.

I expect Michael to crumple, tears in his eyes. Apologize. Promise his undying loyalty.

But Michael is apparently stronger than I gave him credit for. He takes it full blunt.

“Shoot.”

“What do you do for work?”

“I’m a consultant.”

Quick and to the point. Ellen must defer.

“For?”

“Whoever hires me.”

“Such as… ?”

“Well,” he takes a deep breath. “The government. Commercial groups. Non-profits. It varies.”

Ellen’s curiosity has been piqued. She pushes the topic.

“How—”

A hand is raised.

Anger spontaneously combusts. It ripples across space, strumming the Cord.

Her eyes shift a fraction of an inch. They find mine and hold. Overwhelming ego smothers the flames.

Down boy, a command. I bite my tongue until all I can taste is nothing.

Michael doesn’t notice.

“I can’t really say. Client privilege. The people I deal with, let’s just say they can be rather… paranoid. They value privacy over everything else.”

Attention refocuses.

“Oh?”

“Yeah. S-sorry.”

“No need to apologize. I understand.”

I don’t.

Minutes pass. Their conversation slips away, air light. It’s different than the usual awkwardness.

A consensual type of silence.

I must admit. There’s something with them. Emotional reactions seem to sparkle and fizzle about. Bonds being made.

Ellen herself has opened up. Gone is the cement mask, the stoic brooding found amongst Shirleys. She talks.

Curtly. Succinctly. But she talks.

Then I feel it.

The call. Pressure that builds and builds.

Tulpas still suffer real wants and needs. Sleeping, eating, the joys of existing.

Odd though. I haven’t drunk much.

Two sips at most. Emilio seemed to regard me as our party’s designated driver. He filled my glass puddle-style.

Francesca, however, was far more liberal.

Restroom’s right in front of you.

Ellen smirks.

The men’s room smells of piss and soap.

Too small. Rows along the wall facing me, sinks and mirrors.

A single, conical bulb bleeds light. Dim light. Yellow, like some captured harvest moon.

Insufficient.

Somebody could be hiding further in.

But the call rears up, roars. An almost irrational plea. Bordering on incontinence.

I choose the closest urinal.

I unzip.

I let the rapids flow.

When I return, they’re gone.

I stare.

Their chairs are empty.

Emilio lays face-down and spread-eagle. Horizontally. Between our tables.

Blood pools under his noggin.

Glittering. I peer closer and blink.

Bits of broken glass litter his work clothes. Somebody’s been hitting the bottle.

So no hardware.

Or they just improvised. Firing indoors can be loud.

Someone would have heard.

Somebody didn’t want to be interrupted.

Not if they were being paid.

But they had been.

I amble over, kneel down.

My fingers go to his neck, but I already know. Emilio is dead. Poor sap walked out at the worst possible moment. Saw our Unsub holding…

… What, exactly?

A knife? Fork? Regardless, he’d seen them. Certain people don’t take kindly to being seen.

Not while kidnapping a woman.

“…”

A woman.

“…”

Ellen based me on her favorite character.

Papa was a real bookworm. While not organizing emergency relief or appearing before Congress, he would collect old paperbacks. Hoarded them as if they were coins or action figurines.

The majority were, you guessed it, hardboiled detective stories. And not mainstream authors either. Mixed in among the Macdonalds and Chandlers and Marlowes stood true outliers.

Ellen read them all. She got inspired by them, comforted by them. And she gathered those feelings—expectations—when Papa and Mama bit the big one.

Then made me.

Being your quintessential private eye has its perks. A code of honor. Enough wit to mask the pain as your teeth are kicked in.

And investigative prowess.

I don’t know if my sense of deduction is the usual Holmesian affair or actually a magical power.

But right now, I’m looking. I’m thinking.

Michael did this.

That much is obvious.

He was the only one around at the time.

He’d been laying the charm ever since we arrived. Nervousness goes a long way.

Especially if the other party’s just as twitchy.

Never got a read on the kid.

“Dammit,” I grind teeth.

The receptionist is where we left her, standing behind the pedestal.

Her smile flashes, “Yes, may I help you?”

Huffing. Puffing. I lean forward.

“Did you see anyone leave?”

Said smile loses plasticity. She glances nervously towards the way I’ve just come. “I-I’m sorr—”

I’m not.

“Ms. Shirley and Mr. Finch.”

“Oh, yes. Just a few minutes ago. Ms. Shirley said she needed to get some fresh air.”

“Which way?”

Smile teeters over the edge of a cliff.

“U-um—”

“Where?!”

Resounding boom. On some level, I am dimly aware that my hands hurt.

Slamming them down on metal might not have been a good idea. But that doesn’t matter. Nothing does.

Not when Ell is concerned.

The receptionist blinks several times.

A trembling finger points. “Th-that wa—”

I dart outside.

Night instantly greets me. Cold and occluded.

I look. This part of the city lacks vagrants. Street is empty, no cars passing through.

Loneliness strikes.

Shadows collude close to the building. Hug them like snipers. Thoughts rear up.

Images flood my mind. Veritable film festival of nightmare scenarios.

Ell laying on a slashed side, duct-taped. Blood pooling. Life flowing free.

The car speeding off. Meeting traffic almost immediately, lovers going home sweet home. Workers praying for sleep. But still…

… Something nags at me.

Why would he take her? For ransom?

Fat chance. META won’t pay, won’t negotiate. Even if some numb-nuts has taken its brain hostage.

Ellen is worth a pretty penny. But she inherited more than just her high chair.

The Shirley clan possesses enough artifacts to fill a museum. Rare tomes, written in blood and by finger. Information that people have died for.

He might torture her all night.

She’s strong.

She underwent training as a little girl; martial arts and bibliography and dissociation. She knows what to do when taken.

But…

… But she is still young.

Feels pain. Sooner or later, later, she’ll give in. I wouldn’t blame her if it comes to that.

She’ll talk.

But that’s if.

If I can’t find her.

There’s still the other reasons why some animal would kidnap a young woman.

Certain parties hate her. Us. What we do, it disrupts their secret machinations.

He said that people hire him. For what? To resolve problems.

Yes. Ellen was quite the problem.

They’d pay top dollar to have her within their grasp. Delivered, you might say.

Otherwise… What else was there?

Simple bloodlust?

He could be a serial killer.

I shake my head.

Enough thinking. It’s time for acting.

I resume looking around. Ears prick up, are honed.

They catch labored breathing. Scuffling of shoes. Far beneath the howling wind.

They come from close by. I turn left, hands plunging into my pants pocket.

Fingers curl around familiar ground. Ol’ Pipsqueak. It is freed.

I see them.

He’s halfway down the sidewalk. Back facing me. His suit’s all scuffed up—dirt, creases, no longer immaculately put together.

In one hand is a pistol. Small and black. The exact type eludes me, same with caliber. Yet I do know one thing:

It could kill.

Anger.

I could kill.

“Let her go.”

Michael spins around, pulling Ell along by the hair.

The smile melts. His eyes are dark, and have been for a very long time.

No warmth. Just ice. A predator’s glimmer that tells me everything I ever need to know.

So much for the wedding.

He presses harder against Ell’s temple. “Don’t come any closer.”

“Fuck you.”

Ell squirms.

She’s been roughed up a bit. One cheek is swollen.

The look on her face… Soft as mud, tears streaming. She doesn’t look up to see me.

Doesn’t want me to see.

But I do.

I can’t help, but see.

Ol’ Pipsqueak feels good in-hand. A bullet is screaming out his name, for release. Let it feast.

“You hurt her and I’ll hurt you.”

“But not before I hurt her,” he counters.

A slippery smirk curls his lips.

I don’t move.

“So… Michael, if that is your real name—”

“You know it’s not.”

“Then what do I call you? Bastard? Inch-dick?”

“Doesn’t matter, really,” he chuckles, false-smiling. “But I’d be real careful there, Jack. I’ve still got Little Miss Bitch over here.”

I false-smile back. We’re playing a game.

“Can I ask a question?”

He holds my stare. Thinks for a moment.

“Shoot,” pressing even harder.

Ell whimpers.

I bite my tongue to keep from roaring.

“Why string her along?”

I walk sideways, and he follows suit. We etch a circle into the ground.

“Easier. It’s not like she ever goes out on the town, right? And even then… Not for long.”

Circle, circle. Somebody blasts their horn down the block. Neither of us wince.

“Works indoors. Never goes jogging. Eats breakfast, lunch, and dinner at home. Windows all drawn. I mean, what, does she burn in direct sunlight or somethin’?”

“Or something.”

Ell has gone limp. Her feet drag along the concrete.

“Got no friends. No family. Hell, not even a humpin' buddy. Hey. Man to man? Thought I’d be hitting 'at before, you know…”

He nearly presses the trigger.

Ell stiffens. That seemingly gets him hard, so to speak.

People like him love fear. Other people’s fear. They get off on it, feed on it.

“She wouldn’t let you,” I say.

He smiles. “Sure she would.”

We freeze.

“I mean, someone like her? She’s easy. Broken. I can tell.”

Sure he can. Like a shark with blood.

“She’d beg for it.”

Ell blinks.

“If she wasn’t such a bitch.”

I stare at him. Hard.

He stops smiling. Fingers tighten around the trigger.

“Who hired you?”

Gotta say something.

“Why would I tell?”

“Was it the Front? The Institute?”

“Guess.”

The wind howls.

“M-Marv?”

Her voice breaks the silence. Soft and light.

We both look down. Ell has stopped crying, but the flesh is still raw. A blankness falls.

“Uh huh?”

She meets my gaze.

“Shoot.”

The man glances between us.

I don’t say a thing. Me and her, we hold this thing, this staring contest of sorts.

“Really?”

The man backs away.

He loops one arm around Ell’s waist, pulls tight. Sweat pinpricks his forehead.

Hadn’t expected this. Poor sod failed to recognize who he was dealing with. Who he was messing with.

A Shirley.

“You think that lapdog of yours can? Ha. Don’t make me laugh.”

Ell smirks. “I’m not.”

I walk forward. Ol’ Pipsqueak pulls at its leash, trying to break free. A hungry boy.

The man pauses.

For a second, he forgets who he’s trying to kill. Points his gun at me instead.

I scoff. “Please.”

Fear.

His eyes flash.

Thought goes haybuck wild. A finger twitches, which in turn pulls the trigger.

Boom. Echoing. Shattering the night, flinging the shards all around us.

Ell winces.

I stand.

I turn. A single hole.

I turn back.

Shrug.

The man blinks.

“What the fu—”

My turn.

With one swift motion, I aim and fire.

Another loud boom. Ellen doesn’t even wince.

She looks at me as the bullet slips through, passes through. Her skin becomes fluid. It’s completely harmless.

But the man?

He remains solid. Meat.

It hits like an elephant against paper. Brutal.

The impact knocks him back.

He goes flying down the sidewalk. His limbs jerk this way and that.

Blood sprays everywhere. Gore.

A quarter-sized hole has been punched through suit jacket, dress shirt, flesh, bone.

Out the other side.

Seconds later… Crunch. His head strikes the unforgiving pavement without an iota of protection.

Bounces. Falls again.

Stays there.

I watch for any last minute twitching, breathing.

Nothing.

I breathe out.

It’s over. The threat’s been eliminated. Getting shot through the heart can cut anyone’s strings.

He lays there silent and still. Empty. His peashooter took quite the ride, I guess, because it’s gone.

Poof.

Hope Jimmy Hoffa puts good use to it.

Only…

… Somebody might find it. A bright-eyed, oblivious kid. Or a messy, unlucky vagrant looking for food.

An innocent. Maybe someone who wants a gun, but shouldn’t have it. I know local gangs are desperate.

They’re running out of guns. What good is an uzi against things that can simply erase slugs mid-air? Recruiting dipped around New Years ‘99.

Leaving a firearm where anyone could just nab it would be reckless.

I lower my iron. Fingers unclench as calm floods and solidifies.

Ellen hasn’t done anything. Shock can anesthetize, so I’m ironically thankful for her being human.

You can’t jump around while under gun-sight.

She keeps standing there. Her eyes are dull, beaded with tears.

Our Cord not only lets us talk or know each other’s location. Emotions bleed through. Between. I feel…

… I feel…

… One of her hands dips into her dress. Out it comes, a cigarette, poisonous heaven.

In goes the hand again. She fishes around her bra.

Brings a lighter this time. Same ol’ gold.

My employer lifts it, lights up, then gasps.

#evanthenerd83's storytime #the marvin missions #neo noir #meta fantasy #urban fantasy #action fiction #drama #short story #original writing #creative writing #November 2024

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surveysandthings · 2 years ago

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do you ever do these surveys with your SO? Nah, it’s usually just me!

have you ever totally lied or made up ridiculous answers for surveys? Nope. No one knows who I am and I don’t think anyone even follows this blog so I have no reason to lie.

do animal furs upset you? I think it’s gross in this day and age as we don’t need fur to keep warm but I don’t see a problem with purchasing vintage furs. It’s the best way to honor the animals now.

who picks the music when you’re riding in the car? Definitely my husband, he cares more about the music when we drive. I’m perfectly happy just turning on a playlist but he needs to pick every song.

do you have a waste basket in your car? Yup! One of those ones you hook on the headrest of your seat.

what’s the Spanish name for your favourite food? I’m in between hyper fixation foods rn so I don’t think I could tell you what my favorite food is, let alone what it is in Spanish.

do you know anyone who regularly uses a bike for transportation? We have a neighbor who I always see riding back and forth on his bike but I've never met him, so.

do you consider audio books not really reading? I wouldn’t consider it reading but you’re still absorbing the content of a book.

strangest thing you’ve ever put in the trunk of a car? ...I can’t say I've ever put anything strange in the trunk of a car? Just like...groceries and suitcases and sometimes furniture?

do you carry matches or a lighter? No, but my husband does!

do you keep socks with a hole in them if they are your favorites? I hate socks so I don’t wear any enough to develop holes in them.

last time you wore clothes that were too small on you. Um? I don’t know, to be honest!

have you ever frightened someone on purpose? I mean, I've hid behind something and jumped out to scare someone before as a joke but I’ve never done anything to actually make someone fearful past that initial jump scare.

have you ever had something taken away from you by airport security? A really rude TSA agent in Chicago took my water from me once and then felt me up. That was awk.

what’s the last wild animal you have seen? I saw a squirrel out the window yesterday!

something you were surprised to learn about your parent’s childhood? My mom recently told me that she once jumped the barricade at a Van Halen concert back in the day to get closer to the stage as a teenager and that was surprising. She’s such a fuddy duddy now, it’s weird to think she was ever young and carefree like that.

do you store any non food items in the fridge? I have a little tub of sheet masks in there rn because they feel nice on my skin when they’re chilly.

have you ever told a friend you thought their parent was hot? I’ve never found any of my friends’ parents attractive.

what was the last thing you bought from a gumball machine? how long ago was that? My husband bought a Pokemon card from one of those sticker machines if that counts. It was over the summer!

have you ever destroyed another person’s belongings out of anger? Nope.

plain band aids or fun ones? Always fun ones. I go out of my way to spend more on those fancy Welly ones from Target bc they have such cute prints.

which pain killer do you use? Naproxen sodium works best for me but I'll take an ibuprofen in a pinch.

have you ever used someone else’s Rx med? Nope.

have you ever borrowed underwear from a friend? None of my friends have ever been fat, haha.

would you like to be part of a wedding party? I could be into that for the right person!

last pair of shoes you threw out and why? I just replaced my winter boots because they were worn out and hurting my feet.

have you ever thrown anything up to hang on the power/phone lines? No.

have you ever really stayed up all night to do homework? Late, not all night.

have you ever had anything stolen from you? YES, my doormat!!! I’m still pissed about it.

if you could make up one rule for all your friends, what would it be? Be nice to me and don’t forget about me when you have kids.

do you pay attention to people’s posture? I can honestly say I've never dedicated a single brain cell to someone else’s posture before in my life.

do you have a creepy uncle, or have a friend who has one? My husband has a VERY creepy uncle.

alarm clock, or do you use your phone? I use my phone or the google home depending on the day.

have you ever backed into a cactus? No, but I did accidentally drop one into my hand when I was repotting it and was like ‘phew! no needles in my fingers’ and then I realized later that its fuzzies were actually teeny tiny little prickles. Took me forever to get them all out.

do any of your relatives not have home internet? I don’t think so...?

when you get the munchies, do you want sweet or salty? Definitely salty.

something you taught yourself how to do? Probably something sewing related.

#surveys

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princeblack · 1 year ago

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she tells him that she understands wanting your parents’ approval and not feeling good enough, which makes him soften with sadness, wondering if it’s one or both parents she struggles with. “i didn’t know,” he says softly, his face falling. he hates the idea of bee not being appreciated as she should be, especially by the people who raised her and should know how amazing she is before anyone else. “for what it’s worth, you’re not just good enough— you’re perfect.”

he smiles a little at the way she’s blushing, teasing him over his comment about cedric. “i think more highly of you than i do anyone i’ve met.” it’s true, too— he’s never had such an untainted opinion of someone else before, with nothing at all but high regard for her. she really is sunshine to him, something he wishes he could bottle but wouldn’t because such things deserve to be free. “and i think your brother knows everyone thinks he’s hot.”

their conversation is soon replaced with the soft sounds of him sucking the lollipop, their eyes locked as he pulls his dick out. he enjoys the expression on her face a little too much, a giveaway that she likes what she sees. she bites her lip too, sliding down to her knees in front of him. the sight of that alone makes him ache, but her dress’s straps fall too, showing off her pretty shoulders. he’s surprised by her name for him but it turns him on all the same, the way her warm voice sounds speaking filthy words. “such a good girl,” he hums encouragingly, dragging his tongue against the lollipop.

he can’t help but smile at her confession, so turned on that it’s obvious in the way he’s already leaking, pre-cum glistening on his tip. “you thought about me going inside of you when we were just friends?” he asks, voice muffled around the lollipop. “was i as big as this?” something about her thinking about him like that before she should’ve, even when he was taken, makes him feel warm.

he moves his hand as hers rests on his length, her smaller fingers taking hold of it. he watches her closely, green eyes focused on her heavily as her tongue slowly licks his slit, taking his pre-cum against it. he moans softly, clenching a little at how good it feels, getting pleasure from the touch of her wet tongue and how perfect she looks pushing his tip into her mouth. it feels even better, bee’s mouth soaking around him, but then she moves her tongue against him too, taking his breath away. “f-fuck… yes, bee.” his voice is a desperate rasp, one hand reaching down to tangle into her hair, tugging at it encouragingly as her tongue slides against his tip, making him feel so good that he’s already close.

then she starts to jerk him off and he has to clench again, a shiver moving through him at how intense the pleasure is. “that feels good,” he murmurs, his hand moving from her hair to gently caress her cheek, thumb running against it. “keep doing that with your tongue…” his fingers slide back into her hair, running through it almost soothingly despite the dirty things they’re doing. he can’t get over how beautiful she looks sliding his dick into her mouth further, watching him innocently with those pretty blue eyes.

she never meant to be a bad girlfriend to dean, he was a good guy and he was sweet but he wasn't for her, he didn't have her heart the way regulus did and unfortunately he never would have her. "to be fair you never stole anything...I was yours before I was ever his." she says with a smile, because it was true. her heart belonged to regulus since that day on the train together, the day they talked about creatures and their excitement for school to start, his sweet green eyes watching her like she was the most interesting person in the world when most people would get bored of her hyperfixations.

she couldn't believe she had him alone in this room now, begging to be touched and loved by him. as he tells her how important she is to him, how her being different didn't drive them apart but brought them closer together. "I understand..." she says softly. "wanting your parents approval and never quite feeling good enough." she says softly. "but if what they approve of isn't making you happy then I'm glad I could be the person that does make you happy." she says softly as the smile tugs at her lips. she didn't even try, she was just herself around him and for some reason that seemed to be enough for regulus to love her almost as much as she loves him.

she lets him talk, listening as he tells her about the things he loves, calling her a sunshine in his life as she blushes bright. bee wants to tell him that she loves him, that she's in love with him but it seems too soon, after all he still has a relationship to officially end and she had never exactly said those three words to anyone before. so she waits for now, instead smiling at the way he calls her pretty as a soft chuckle falls past her lips. "you think so highly of me." she tease, shaking her head a little. "but I'll be sure to let my brother know you find him pretty too...right after I have my fun with you." she purrs lowly.

bee likes the way he sucks on the candy for her, making her short in breath as blue eyes watch his pretty lips wrap around the candy or the way his tongue licks at it. this tension could just about kill her it was so hard to breathe, needing her fix of having his touch so badly that it hurts her a little, making her ache in her chest and between her thighs.

she watches as he takes the sucker from her, putting it in his mouth as she purrs softly. making her wet gay it's so uncomfortable.

regulus undoes hispanys, stripping down fabric after the other. he looks so good, and his dick is like a work of art that it almost makes it hard to breathe. "I'm going to make such a good mess for you daddy, lick it all up." she purrs, biting down on her lower lip as she slowly slides into her knees, letting the straps of dress fall off her shoulders as blue eyes flicker up at him. "I've wanted you for so long, you know? used to think about what it would look like going inside of me...how pink it would be. it's even prettier in person though." she purrs softly, blue eyes looking up into his as she grips his hard length, she can see the way he's dripping in precum, she wants to taste it, biting down on her lower lip. she sticks her tonuge out letting it swipe against his slit to take the taste into her mouth, humming as she keeps eye contact, purring softly before pushing his tip into her mouth, letting out a moan against it. he tastes so good, eyes fluttering as she begins to slide her tongue all around it, tracing it slowly and using her hand to jerk him off from the base, she starts slow, taking her time just to enjoy him and watch the way his expression changes, starting to take more of him as she hallows her cheeks.

#Ⅰ. ⸻ / 𝑹.𝑨.𝑩. ( prose ) .#Ⅰ. ⸻ / 𝑹.𝑨.𝑩. ( 𝒇𝒆𝒂𝒕. bexley ) .

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takenbyheartstrings · 3 years ago

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ONE BED

summary: Its the one bed trope, but you and peter don't like each other and the avengers are determined to change that, so they set you and peter up for what could be success or what could be failure.

pairing: peter parker x fem!reader.

warnings: angst (not really)???, fluff, swearing, mentions of sex, mentions of masturbation, and finally SMUT.

authors note: sorry if this is a little cringworthy, it's 12am and i am tired.

Natasha walked into the kitchen of the Avengers Compound, heaving a large breath, letting out a sigh catching Tony, Bucky, Steve, Wanda and Bruce's attention.

"What was that for?" Steve questioned as he noticed Natasha's somewhat annoyed appearance.

She shrugs, "They hate each other, they hate each other and I wanna know why."

Bucky laughs, "Not this shit again."

"Yes this shit again, Y/n and Peter clearly like each other, but I don't know why they have it in for each other."

"Or maybe they just don't like each other, that's possible Nat." Bucky lets a little glare.

Tony's voice perks up, "Uhhhh, I don't know about that. They always catch second glances at each other, when the other's not looking. It's cute." Tony couldn't believe he was talking about two eighteen year olds, but you two clearly liked each other.

Bruce let out a hum, "How about, we force them into a situation where they can't escape each other. We have to go down to Washington in a few days for the new training facility, so it's the perfect cover anyway. Instead of bunking Peter with Sam and Bucky, maybe we can bunk him in with Y/n."

Natasha and Wanda nod, "That's not a totally bad idea," Wanda tries not to grin; she's seen the way the two of you pine over each other like lovesick puppies. It really was cute.

"So we're just gonna ignore the fact that this is against their will and they might hate each other more than before and you guys are willing to place on the fence based on a hunch." Bucky speaks rationally, "Besides, the kid scares easily, you'll just be taking away the fun from Sam and I."

Everyone in the room trades a glance and then looks back at him, "Yeah." They all spoke at once.

It was settled. This little side mission was happening.

You sighed as you made your way into the conference room, the mission in Washington was a big one for you - and for Peter. But you needed to be prepared for anything, but nothing could prepare you for the news you were about to hear.

"Alright, I've got our roommates for the trip ready." Tony stated as he started listing off names, you were confused as to why you weren't with Wanda like usual. "Okay and Y/N and Peter."

"WAIT WHAT?" You almost screamed standing up.

"I can't be that bad. Can I?" Peter's lip quirked into a smirk.

You rolled your eyes as they turned a shade of red at his annoyance, "Well you clearly can."

"Don't get all glitter eyes on me." Peter chuckles, as Bucky can't help but snicker, your head snaps toward him as he then backs off.

Steve puts a hand your arm and he beckons you to sit down. You do so trying to calm down.

"Hey look," Tony sighs, "Sorry kids, but that's just how it is. Two people per room and you guys just happened to be last pick."

Peter sighs, "Whatever, the sooner we get it over with the better." He rolls his eyes walking out of the room. You followed but before leaving, you used your powers to lift Tony's coffee cup and spill it on his lap.

"Real mature!" He calls after you.

"I'm eighteen, get over it!" You yelled back before going to your room and slamming the door behind you.

Everyone was right, you did have a crush on Peter. You really liked him. But you were also so jealous of him. You were jealous of his smarts, his looks. Practically everything about the boy.

So much so, that you fantasised about him. You touched yourself thinking about him - and so did he. You both liked each other, but it was so hard to admit it because you were both jealous of each other, for the same reasons. You honestly didn't know how you were going to get through the night with Peter in the same room as you. You didn't know if it was going to be a paradise or a nightmare.

The next night you got to the hotel, "All right guys, time to get settled in, we have a big day of training tomorrow. Go get rested, goodnight." He waves walking off with his key. Sam and Bucky take theirs, Bruce and Steve take theirs, Nat and Wanda take theirs and You and Peter are left standing there.

"Look I'm too tired to argue, so can we just... not?" You questioned Peter.

"That's fair," He gives an awkward smile, "Since you start them all," He mutters under his breath, quiet enough so that you don't hear it.

You both made it up to the room to be met with a sight, "Wow. One bed, like this could get any worse." You sighed.

"Really. Truely can't. I thought to myself 'Nothing's worse than having to share a room with you,' but now there's one bed and I'm not giving it up."

"Well neither am I, guess we'll share." You give a harsh glare. You set your duffle bag down next to the left side of the bed and grabbed your pyjamas and made your way to the bathroom, it was a pair of shorts and a tank top. You were so reluctant to wear a bra. But you were nervous considering that Peter was in the other room. You opted not to deciding it wasn't worth the pain.

You walked out of the bathroom and Peter met eyes with you, lingering over your body, he loved looking at every part of you, the way your nipples came through your shirt and how perfect your tits were. How perfect your thighs were. How beautiful you looked. He didn't say anything but the room was filled with a tense silence. Peter walked into the bathroom and changed, he walked out of the bathroom wearing nothing but a pair of plaid pants. Your eyes made contact with his biceps, his abs. You never realised how strong Peter actually was, you always fantasised about him like this but your fantasy was now a reality. You swore you could feel yourself getting a little wet, just thinking about what Peter could do to you.

You sighed getting into the covers at Peter did the same, the two of you were lying back to back with a large chunk of space between the two of you. You let out a little sigh, "I'm gonna go to the bathroom," you had announced.

"Alright," Peter said timidly, letting you know he was awake.

You looked at yourself in the mirror, splashing yourself with cold water. You knew you shouldn't feel this way. Not now. Why now? Why when he was here? You splashed yourself in the face one last time before opening the door and you met Peter's eyes.

"Peter I-," You started.

"I like you." Peter said nonchalantly.

"I-I like you too."

It was quick, but finally Peter's lips landed on yours and never left. You were actually the one to deepen the kiss. You felt Peters tongue slide into your mouth in one swift movement. His hands trailed up your shirt as you were pinned against a wall, he could feel your tits get hard as a chill went down your spine from the touch of his cold hands. Breaking the kiss for a moment - he lifted your shirt over your head as he started trailing kisses down your neck, you let out a heavy moan. Peter smirked against the kisses, as he trailed further down your body, licking and sucking on your nipples, his tongue making circles around them.

"Fuck, Peter." You groaned softly as the two of you then moved to the bed, you could see a bulge in Peter's pants. You slid them down as you were met with his dick, a smirk took place on your face as he sat back against the headboard.

You decided to have your way with Peter, kissing and sucking on his tip. Until you finally placed your whole mouth around it, bobbing your head up and down on his cock. You took your mouth off of it before wrapping your hand around it and slapping it onto your tongue. You could hear Peter groan heavily, "Fuck, Y/n, just like that." His words came out as hot flashes as you moved your hand up and down his dick, rubbing it.

You couldn't take it anymore, you wanted to feel Peter. You moved up to kiss him again, but before you could Peter looked at you, “Every time you made me angry I fantasised about the things I would do to you and now I finally get to do them," He smirked.

You couldn't say anything else, you just let the moment get a hold of you. You kissed him again and it was like you could feel the electricity sparking in the air between the two of you. His kisses were hungry and desperate and sweet. You were lucky to be in his arms tonight, you were lucky to be fucked by someone like him. Someone caring. Someone genuinely sweet. Even if you hadn't seen what that side of him was even like, you knew he was.

You felt your breath hitch against the air as Peter removed your shorts, and yet he could see the patch of wetness on your underwear. You swore you could hear him get hungry at the sight, Peter didn't say anything, but he removed the garment blocking him from all of you. You were naked in front of him and he was loving every minute of it. His tongue entered your pussy as he sucked and licked your clit, moving his tongue up and down your pussy. He was hungry for you and only you.

Peter finally looked up at you as you moaned softly, your back arching a little as he pleased you with his tongue, "Peter I want you, please." You said desperately.

"As you wish," Peter said huskily as he slid his dick into your wet hole and boy did that hit the spot. Sliding in and out of you, every single moan was like a godsend, like music to hears ears. You were shaking under him.

"Peter you can go rougher than that," You spoke through a strained moan and Peter could. Your bodies flowed together, the mattress moving underneath the two of you, slamming the headboard with every thrust. Each moan that came out of your mouth got higher and higher, letting Peter know you were almost at your edge. Peter continued to move in and out of you.

"Fuck Pete, I'm almost there," You whimpered softly, "Fuck!"

He smirked against you, pulling out his dick and replacing it with his mouth. His tongue moved in and out just like his whole body had and you finally reached your peak.

"FUCK PETE!" You moaned once more as your body finally relaxed.

You took a hold of Peter's dick and started rubbing it again, he moaned quietly, "Fuck, yeah, just like that, that's my girl." Peter murmured. You smirked before placing your mouth over his cock and moving your head up and down once more, wrapping your hand around it while you also moved your head.

"Fuck that's it, that's it." Peter groaned, "Fuck Y/n, I'm gonna cum." Peter said as you moved your head faster and faster, ready to take on his load and that's when you could finally feel it, the sticky, white liquid in your mouth as you let it dribble back onto his cock, before licking it off his tip and letting it fall again, tasting the excess that was left in your mouth.

You let yourself fall back next to Peter as you got back underneath the covers with him, your naked bodies lying together intertwined.

"You have no idea how much I've thought about doing that with you," You laughed quietly, "I always hated you because you're everything I'm not Peter, but I was too quick to judge. I was wrong, wrong about most of it, almost all of it."

"Me too, Y/n, me too. I always wanted to be like you, but I see now that we have our differences and that's okay, but now we can work on that. Together." Peter spoke.

"Does that mean," You smiled against his chest.

"Yeah, it does."

"Well in that case, I really liked it when you said I was your girl," You smiled up at him, "That was really hot."

The two of you ended up falling asleep, in each others arms, feeling nothing but happiness. The two of you knew now that there was no reason to hate each other. There was no reason you couldn't be with each other.

The next morning you slid on a training bra and tights, reading for the day of training Tony had told all of you to get rest for, "Well don't you look good." Peter said wrapping his arms around your waist placing a kiss on your lips.

"I could say the same for you," You said feeling the biceps that were exposed because of his muscle tee. You and Peter walked down to the lobby with his arm wrapped around you, the rest of the group looked at the two of you surprised.

"You two look cosy," Wanda smiled.

Bucky batted an eye for a moment surprised that the plan the group had set out actually worked, "Wow, yeah, you guys do, what happened?"

"Oh we just talked, and we just confessed our feelings and now we're together." Peter explained.

Natasha let a painful look shine through, "You sure you guys just talked, it's not like the walls are soundproof."

The two of you blushed, "I- we- you- heard- what?" You were flustered you didn't know what to say. Peter just stood there in shock.

The rest of the group laughed walking off, "C'mon guys, the facility is ready for us, might as well make the best of it," Tony chuckled walking off as the rest of you followed, Peter placing a kiss on your head as you did.

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker x reader imagine #peter parker smut #peter parker x reader smut #peter parker x you #peter parker x reader angst #peter parker x reader imagines

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usernamerenn · 3 years ago

Text

i do love you

pairing — ryuguji “draken” ken x f!reader

summary — you have always been jealous of emma, and now you know it was with good reason

note — spoilers. i wanted to write some angst. likes and reblogs are always appreciated

The apartment was in complete disarray. Broken picture frames that showed a once happy couple now hazardously decorated the floor, and the living room’s coffee table had been violently overturned sometime during the fight. You didn’t know how this argument started, but insults and pointed remarks were carelessly being thrown back and forth with no regard for the feelings they hurt.

You stood there in absolute anger as you stared at Draken with a matching glare. He had never looked at you with such harshness in his eyes before, and for once in your relationship, you felt nothing but contempt for the man standing across from you. This wasn’t the man you fell in love with. You wanted to believe he was only a stranger wearing the mask of your loving boyfriend.

“Why are you acting like this?! I already told you that I’m not cheating on you! I’ve just been busy at the shop!”

“You really expect me to believe you after weeks of cancelling dates and not properly answering my texts or calls?!” you shouted in disbelief, the sound of your own voice grating and unpleasant to listen to after all your previous screaming. “S-stop lying to me! Just tell me the truth! I thought you said you loved me!”

Draken’s response was immediate, and there was no hesitation in his voice. “I do love you, Emma!”

The sound of her name rang out clearly and tauntingly. You froze, staring at Draken in shock as whatever feelings of anger and resentment you had in that moment quickly dissolved, leaving you confronted with a somber realization. Emma, Emma, Emma. Her name kept repeating in your mind like a broken record player. Emma, the name of the wonderful person that you never got to meet. Emma, the name of Mikey’s sister and someone that you had always been subconsciously jealous of. Emma, the name of Draken’s first love.

You remembered when you had been first introduced to Draken’s friends. You recalled Mikey’s cold, judgemental glares and the looks of sympathy that Mitsuya would send your way when he thought that you wouldn’t notice. You had initially been confused by all of this, but you still put on your best smile whenever you greeted your boyfriend’s friends. After all, you wanted them to like you. It was only after you had unintentionally listened in on one of their conversations that you learned the reason for Mikey and Mitsuya’s odd behaviour.

“Who the hell does she think she is? Ken-chin was supposed to be with Emma, not her!”

“I know, but it’s not her fault, so stop acting this way, Mikey. Besides, Emma would’ve wanted Draken to be happy.”

“I know, it’s just-”

“I know, I know. I miss her, too.”

When you had eventually asked your boyfriend about who this Emma person was, you were taken aback by the subtle yet sincere smile on Draken’s face as he went on to explain who Emma was. Emma was Mikey’s younger sister that had tragically died during one of Toman’s conflicts with another gang. As you continued to listen, you were surprised by how Draken spoke about Emma with such wistfulness in his voice and expression. From that day on, he would always reminisce about Emma. And while you tried to convince yourself that it was fine because she was a beloved friend, you still couldn’t stop your heart from hurting every time you saw the genuine adoration and love in your boyfriend’s eyes as he spoke about another woman.

“I remember how Emma, Mikey, and I would always go to this crêpe shop.”

“Oh, I got that for Emma’s birthday once.”

“Women like this kind of jewellery, right? That’s what Emma used to tell me.”

Emma. It was always Emma. The more she was mentioned and talked about, the more you began to resent this person that you had never even met before. It was unfair, but you hated her. Were you not good enough? Were you just a replacement for Emma? Did Draken ever truly love you? These questions and thoughts always floated about in your mind and taunted you, and today you finally got your answer.

Locking your arms around yourself in a comforting manner, you were no longer able to meet Draken’s gaze as he quickly realized what he had just said. When he tried to reach for you, he was only met with the heartbreaking reaction of you immediately taking a step away from him.

“I think we need a break,” you tearfully declared, trying your best to keep from breaking down. “I don’t know if I can continue with this relationship anymore.”

With that last sorrowful remark, you hastily left Draken’s apartment without another word, leaving him to contemplate over his absolutely stupid mistake. Once you were gone, he let out a scream of anger before violently kicking the coffee table once more. Why? Why did he have to be such an idiot?! Why did he even say Emma’s name?! Tired and unable to care for anything anymore, Draken fell to the floor.

“Today wasn’t supposed to be like this,” Draken mumbled, tears falling down his face as he retrieved an engagement ring from his pocket, the very same ring he had been working so hard to save up for. Today was supposed to be the day he finally asked you to marry him.

Did he love you? More than anything, Draken loved you. He loved you so much that it sometimes hurt to even think of his life without you. He loved you, and he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you, but you didn’t know this. And maybe you never would.

#ryuguji ken #ryuguji ken imagines #ryuguji ken scenarios #ryuguji ken x reader #ryuguji ken x you #ryuguji ken reader insert #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers x you #tokyo revengers reader insert #tokyo revengers scenarios #tokyo revengers imagines #tokyo revengers #tokrev #tokrev imagines #tokrev scenarios #tokrev reader insert #tokrev x reader #tokrev x you

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your-daily-biaswrecking · 3 years ago

Note

I wanna say that namjoons dad bestfriend drabble was so freaking hot….🥵🥵🥵 maybe part 2? 🙏 when they make out in family house of yn? And her dad is next room 👀 i am so dirty pls forgive me😂

can't believe it took me so long to answer this... okay, so, my requests are not open but i decided to clear up my inbox a bit, starting with this one. as for this part 2... i know it could have been just a short scene with pure smut, but i wanted the drama of the plot, okay? also i'm not doing another psa: this is wrong and pls don't do this, it's just fiction

part 1

Namjoon knew he had to stop this. This... Whatever it was the two of you had. He had found excuses to come see you multiple times throughout the winter, always missing you too much and being unable to stay away for too long. But when you surprised him, secretly coming back to your hometown to be with just him for a week, he wasn't as happy. It was the first reminder of how different your worlds were; he was a grown man minding his career, at an age where he should be seeking marriage and kids. And you? You were skipping school to see your crush.

"I think my daughter has a boyfriend," his best friend casually told him one day soon after that. Namjoon froze, his heart the only thing reacting to those words. But his friend went on nonchalantly, pointing to his ignorance. "I don't mind, of course. I've only told her one thing, and it's not to get pregnant. I don't want her to go through what her mother and I went through, you know? She's at this age... you know? She needs to enjoy her age."

Namjoon... The grown man who should be seeking marriage and kids was fucking this girl. All those times he came inside you, filling you up a little too aggressively– as if deep down he wished he'd knock you up and keep you to himself forever.

He had to end this.

When he told you those same words –you need to enjoy your age, you need to be with a peer– you seemed more mad than hurt. But perhaps you understood. You weren't stupid, you too knew this was wrong. Perhaps you were just waiting for it to happen, waiting for the excitement of doing something against the rules to die out and the realization of the responsibility to hit him. You didn't blame him. But you were still annoyed. Stopped talking altogether, the only news he got from you now came from your father. You did get a boyfriend, or so he was told. And you were doing well with your studies and you were generally living a great student's life.

Summertime and you were here again. Along with your so-called boyfriend. Namjoon was so pissed off when he saw the skinny, mussy, sweaty boy that seemed to either be very slow or high off his ass all the time. And you seemed pleased with yourself.

"You really had to bring him here?"

You chuckled– an evil laugh, he thought. "I thought you'd be happy to see me dating someone my age." When your eyes met his, you made him feel like your positions were switched. So confident while he was almost throwing a tantrum. "What about you?" you asked. "Dating anyone your age?"

On that topic, Namjoon had more than enough women showing interest. And your father, for some reason, was dead set on finding him a wife. All those blind dates he had to escape from! He was simply not interested. He didn't want to admit it was because he was still thinking about you; that no one else would ever be a good replacement for you. He didn't want to because he didn't plan on coming back to you; he had to be the adult, the mature one, and stay away. It was the logical and the right thing to do. He didn't want to admit that, despite all of his intelligence and reason, he still thought about you... Because if he did this would no longer be just some attraction, just some fucking around. If he admitted it was more, what would happen then?

No... this was good. You had already moved on. Enjoying your life the way you were supposed to, a life he had no room to be in. All he had to do now was follow your example.

"Namjoon..."

That text was sent past 2 am on a rainy night in October. The only text he had gotten from you in months. That was all it said yet it made his stomach tight as if you had moaned his name in his ear. As if he knew exactly why you had texted him; needy in the middle of the night, that measly boy surely unable to satisfy you, knowing exactly who could help you at that moment. Fuck... Perhaps if he replied right then things would go back to how they were a year ago. He didn't. And you didn't text him again.

"Joon! You are staying for the holidays, right? You should spend Christmas with us." Your father was more than happy to share that day meant to be with family, with his best friend. Namjoon was like family anyway, wasn't he? When he tried to come up with an excuse, the other insisted. "See? If you were married now you would have someone to spend Christmas with, but you're not, so you'll come to spend it with our family. My daughter's coming home tomorrow, too. Ah. Could you pick her up 'cause–"

"No. I can't. Too busy."

The man laughed. "It's okay. But I am expecting you for dinner on Christmas!" he said with a pointing finger. "I'm not taking no for an answer."

And so there he was. Sitting right across from you at the table. In the months that had passed, you had gained some weight and he thought you had never looked better. Your face a little fuller, your jeans straining against your round thighs and hips, your breasts fitting your curves just right. The body of a grown woman. All Namjoon could think about was feeling you against him again. And he was mad again... Did your stupid boyfriend have the chance to fuck you like that? He didn't deserve you.

"You didn't bring that boy with you this time..." he commented.

"What, Eric?" your mother answered for you. "They broke up."

Namjoon raised an eyebrow, eyes never leaving yours. "Really? How come?"

The corner of your lips turned upwards. "He was just... Too much of a kid."

He hated the way he sighed in relief, the way excitement bubbled in his stomach. He shouldn't be as happy to hear that as he was... He glanced at you again, your hair that had grown longer pushed back to expose your neck. It was getting harder and harder for Namjoon to keep his mind from wandering off to inappropriate things. Along with other parts getting hard.

And then your father spoke. "Joon. You know she's graduating next month, right?" His eyebrows shot up high on his forehead because no– no, he didn't know that. "She's looking for an internship and I thought–"

"Dad..."

"–you could help her get in your company? Maybe you could put in a good word for her?"

"Dad!" Your tone and the way your eyes widened towards your father's way betrayed the fact that the topic hadn't been new, and that you were clearly against the idea.

He looked at you until you finally turned back to face him. And surprising both himself and you, he said: "Yes, of course."

"I'm going to sleep," you announced after the dinner was over and you had helped clean up the table. You gave Namjoon a long glance before you disappeared down the hallway. Your parents had moved to the couch, TV on for some music and a game of cards keeping them busy when their friend asked to go to the bathroom. And you heard a soft knock on your door. "I'm assuming you know that's the wrong door you're knocking at," you spoke before you opened. Already in your sleeping outfit that consisted of an oversized t-shirt and just your panties.

"You knew it was me?" Namjoon whispered, eyes still stuck on your thighs.

"My parents don't knock."

You let him in, closing the door behind you and leaning on it as you looked up at him through your lashes. You both stayed silent for a moment, your breaths the only thing filling the empty, badly lit room. You noticed how he wet his plump lips and bit them while he was examining your face. So close you could smell his aroma, the one you never forgot.

“You don’t have to… you know,” you spoke, referring to your father’s idea. “I know you want to avoid me.”

Namjoon exhaled from his nose as if he was annoyed. “I- It’s not that I want to…”

“I know.” You gulped, finding your mouth wetting too much at the wish of kissing him, along with other parts getting wet. “You don’t want to— you have to.” You dared place your hands on his chest, and instead of pulling away, he leaned into your touch. Feeling his heart beat fast under your fingertips like the way he was breathing. He was slowly losing his mind but he knew he wasn’t the only one. “You don’t have to push me away,” you continued in a low tone. “I know what I’m doing. I’m the one coming to you.”

“Little one…” he rasped, and it had you catching a moan in the back of your throat. Oh, how you longed for his pet names, his voice calling to you lovingly. He stepped even closer. He knew he shouldn’t be there, he shouldn’t be doing this right now… But how could he stop? He wanted you so bad. His hands cupped your cheeks, lips just a breath away from yours, brushing against you as he whispered: “Come work with me… I wanna see you every day.”

The fabric of his shirt pooled in your palms as you grabbed him, closing the tiny gap between you. Both of you sighing in a mixture of relief and impatience as your lips crushed together. The softness only lasted a few seconds before you were moaning and Namjoon was pinning you on the door, deepening the kiss by slipping his tongue in like he was trying to devour you. Your arms wrapped around him while his hands traveled down your body, groping you like you were his stress relief toy. Your hips, your ass… He broke the kiss and buried his face in your neck.

“Ah- daddy,” you whined, grinding on him.

Namjoon felt like he was about to cry. “I missed you so much!” he choked out right before latching his teeth on your skin. Your naughty fingers were struggling to unzip his pants quickly and it made him chuckle instead of sob. “Fuck—” he growled. And he pulled back to stare at you with dark eyes. “Such a little slut, so desperate for my cock.” There he was; the Namjoon you knew so well. His words made you shiver.

“Please, daddy. I need you right now.”

He placed a hand on the door right next to your head, while he freed his dick with the other. “Your parents are right outside.”

Ignoring his words, you discarded your panties and took him in your hand, biting your lip. “I can’t wait any longer, need you to fuck me right now, plea-ase!” you whined a little too loud and Namjoon growled, grabbing your legs and lifting you until you straddled his waist, back on the door.

“Gosh, you’ll get daddy in big trouble, baby.” Tip of his cock brushing your wet folds, making your mouth drop. “They might come looking for me.”

“Quick,” you sobbed. “Be quick, please, just— ah!”

He slipped inside and you both gasped. Your legs were shaking at the feeling, eyes rolling back and a moan as quiet as you could manage rumbled through your neck. He got as deep as he could, face scrunching as if he was in pain. You kissed him.

“I’ve missed you, daddy. I’ve missed this so much.”

His head was spinning as he was trying to find the right words, the words that could describe exactly how he felt about you. “I- I-”

Laughter echoed through the house— your mother. You both froze. Namjoon glanced at the doorknob, and then he grabbed it; your parents could walk in at any moment. He didn’t stop though, nothing could stop him now. He angled his hips and started thrusting into you; fast and sloppy because the clock was ticking.

“Daddy…” you mewled, unable to do or say anything else.

Namjoon clasped a hand over your mouth. “Shh,” he demanded. “You better not start screaming like the little whore you are, or they’ll hear us.”

His words had the opposite effect of what he wanted; making you moan harder. And the fact that he had his big hand over your mouth made you not care to keep quiet. Your choked whines along with the wet sounds of his dick slipping in and out of you could definitely be heard from the other side of the door, perhaps even from that couch your father was on had it not been for the music.

“Shit, you—” he growled. He finally dropped his hand from your mouth, wanting to grab your ass to lift you higher, fuck you better.

Your head fell on his shoulder before you decided to bite down on it to stop yourself from screaming as Namjoon’s thick dick drilled into you with no mercy. “So-o good…”

“Yeah?” He sounded out of breath already, yet cocky. “Did you forget what it’s like to have a real man fuck your pussy, baby? That little boy didn’t do shit, did he? He can’t fuck you as good as daddy, right?”

Your nails dug in his back and you felt your brain so rotten like he was about to fuck you to sleep. “I… don’t know…” you mumbled.

Namjoon stopped. He pulled his head slightly back but he couldn’t see your face. “What?” Your body squirmed, trying to chase that high he had just denied you. “What do you mean—”

“I don’t know what he was like,” you whined. “I only thought of you.”

Another laughter, loud voices coming from that couch. It didn’t scare him that much this time, his heart was already racing and he only gave that direction a glance before he was pulling your head back to look into your eyes. Only then did he notice the tear stains on your cheeks, and you sobbed, choked as he thrust into you again.

“I only thought of you, daddy…” you repeated with a whimper. And it had his eyes rolling to the back of his head, pumping into you a couple more times, hard, before he spilled his seed deep inside.

A whisper. “Fuck…” Panting and groaning as he was trying to come to, and you watching his glistening face as he grimaced and bit his lip. He let you down, resting his forehead on the door while he still struggled to collect himself, and you basked in the pride it gave you. You tucked him back in his underwear and zipped him up with a smirk on your lips, seeing how he finally started to be able to focus his eyes on you.

You opened the door slightly and peeked out; your parents were still playing cards on the couch, they didn’t notice you just like they probably hadn’t noticed how long Namjoon was gone for.

“You should go back,” you whispered as you came back into the room. Namjoon kissed you quickly like he was trying to catch you off guard. And then he grabbed your chin, staring down at you, breaths still coming out too hard.

“Don’t fall asleep, baby. I’ll come back to finish what I started when your father goes to bed.”

You smiled, pushing him slightly back yet he wasn’t budging. “Go…” you prompted as you started feeling his cum sipping out of your cunt and slowly running down your thighs.

Namjoon smiled too. “Really. I’ll eat you out till you pass out, baby, I promise.”

In the dark of the room and the rush of the moment, you decided you had no reason not to let your thoughts slip out. “I wish you could just come to sleep in my arms.”

He got a little serious. And he kissed you again, slower than before. “I’ll see what I can do.”

He left through that door, meeting your parents that were happy to see him yet didn’t even bother to point out his long absence. Sitting next to his best friend while his breathing was still shaky from fucking his daughter.

Shit… That girl will get him in so much trouble…

Masterlist

#bts #bangtan #namjoon #rm #kim namjoon #request #drabble #fanfic #oneshot #smut #dilf namjoon #bts drabble #bts smut #namjoon drabble #namjoon smut #namjoon one shot #namjoon x you #namjoon x reader #kkklaudiaaa17

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