#he’s so charming i know he got hella girls ( and maybe guys ) back in the day | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

huggybearhughes43 · 8 months ago

Note

Oh myyyy hahahaah

Very brief idea but can you write an Lyon smut where he finds y/n in the crowd in one of the games and has love at first sight , and asks his manager to ask for her number??

Maybe like she says yes to the date but she’s never been on a proper date because she’s been busy over work and family, waiting for the right person and almost his age where all of her friends are married and she’s lonely -

Relationship starts slow and romantic and he teaches her what love is patiently and when shes finally ready Alex cums on his pants because he’s so horny😂 y/n helps him out and then they literally fuck everywhere in his house the whole weekend😂😂 would be fun if he comes dominant as time passes???

I’m sure you’ll glorify this idea waaaay cooler🥹

Thank you🥹💖✨

All mine

Alex Lyon x Fem! Reader

Warnings- smut, mentions of marriage, readers mom being hella controlling, squirting, like one hickey, riding, sex on a counter, protected sex

Summary- in the request

Word count- 3.2k (I think this is my longest yet)

As of the moment, I was sandwiched between my two best friends at a hockey game. They were bickering back and forth about which team would win. The girl on my right, Johanna, was dead set on the red wings winning. But, Dallas on the other hand, was convinced the panthers would win. Me though, I didn’t care. I figured this past Christmas I could kill two birds with one stone and purchase them both tickets for the same game. I enjoyed hockey, really, but I never had the time to watch it enough to develop a favored team.

That’s all I heard throughout the game, their bickering back and forth. Detroit was losing heavily and Dallas didn’t loose the chance to rub it in Johanna’s face. She scoffs and sits back in her seat, crossing her arms. “We’re only losing because our goalie is distracted.” “And whose fault is that? Oh right, his.” I shake my head and mimic Johanna’s moments, leaning back and crossing my arms. Our seats were close, about four rows from the ice. If any player wanted to, they’d be able to look at us and tell every detail of our faces.

“Aren’t you supposed to like the Dallas stars or something.” Johanna retorts, making fun of his name. “Oh you think you’re so fucking funny, don’t you?” His bitterness rubs off when he hears the buzzed timer go off to declare the panthers win. He stands up and cheers, making me laugh. Johanna groans and rolls her head back in defeat. I couldn’t help put notice Detroit’s goalie skating over to exit the rink. I couldn’t help but shake the feeling that he was staring at me. My suspicions were confirmed when he walks up to a lady towards the side, pointing at me, saying something that I couldn’t quite make out.

He knows I’ve spotted him when he gives me a charming smile before walking off the ice with the rest of his team. I nudge Johanna and tell her exactly what happened. Her face lights up as the three of us stand up to leave. But we’re interrupted by the lady rushing up to us. She was older but not too much older. She had a sweet smile plastered on her face. “Hello,” she greets. Johanna grabs onto my arm excitedly as if she knows exactly who this lady is, well she probably did. “My names Laura, do you happen to know who Alex Lyon is?”

Johanna shakes my arm, “he’s Detroit’s goalie.” I glare and Johanna, “yeah I got that.” I giggle and look back at the lady. “Sure I do, what about him?” She smiles softly, “Well, he’s asked me to get your number for him. No pressure though, he’ll understand if you reject.” She taps on a not pad and pen in her hands. Johanna practically squeals and I sigh, holding out my hands for the notepad. Dallas looks over my shoulder and nods along as I write down my number and give it back to her. “Can confirm, it’s her real number. It’s rare for her to give guys her real number.” Johanna elbows Dallas in his stomach and mutters a quiet “shut up, Dallas.”

The three of reluctantly part our ways, driving to our own homes. I can’t help but glance at my phone constantly, waiting for the goalie to message me. The second I walk through my front door my phone rings. My heart almost jumps out of my chest, pulling my phone out to look at it. I scoff when I see Johanna’s name on the screen. “Hey Johanna.” I pick up the FaceTime. “What?” She mocks, “were you expecting someone else? Maybeeeee a hockey player?” She snorts. I roll my eyes and mutter a “shut up.”

I flop down on the couch with the phone still in my hands. She picks on me about it for the next half hour, slipping in some comments about how I was lucky. “J, I just dunno if I’ll have time to date him…” “you’re kidding right? I don’t mean to sound like I’m encouraging you to date him for his money… but think about it! You guys last and you’ll be set for life!” “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, he hasn’t even texted me yet.” And like clockwork a message from an unknown number pops up. It reads, “hey I’m Alex, that goalie, I just saw you in the crowd at the game… distracted me the whole time.” I read the message aloud to Johanna, making her squeal.

I soon hung up on Johanna to text the boy. That’s how the whole night went, we texted for hours, eventually FaceTiming. We only hung up because he had to get up early the next day for his job, though neither of us wanted to. Of course, I turned and told Johanna every single detail. The way we spoke to each other made me feel like I had known him for years. The next morning I was happy and energetic. This wasn’t normal for me as I was particularly grumpy most mornings. But the name on my phone as it rang soiled the good morning.

“Hey ma, how are you?” I figured Johanna accidentally slipped up while talking to her. My mom had this whole thing planned out, marriage by 23 and my first kid by 25. But now I’m 27 and not even in a relationship. My ma, she urged it. “Y/n, what’s this I’m hearing about a man in your life? And you haven’t told me?” I roll my eyes before speaking as I walk into my kitchen. “Ma, I haven’t even met the guy. I spoke to him over the phone of the first time last night.” “Y/n. Don’t screw this one up, all your cousins have already gotten husbands and children, even ones younger than you.” And with that she hung up.

I sighed and stared at my phone for a few seconds, thinking about what she said. I gnaw at my lip as I open Alex’s contact and click the call button. I figured he was awake as he was meant to be at the rink in an hour. He picks up in a heart beat. “Hey Alex” I laugh softly, “I was wondering if you were maybe interested in going out on a date.” He takes a second to respond and I get nervous fast. “Yeah- yeah, I mean that would be great! I’m free tonight? If… y’know that’s good with you!” “Yeah,” I smile even though he couldn’t see me, “that sounds great”

The rest of the day felt like torture, waiting for him to pick me up. I figured to not wear makeup as I wasn’t wearing any at the game. I slipped into a casual red dress with black heels and a black purse. The dress was flowery and loose, the purse crossed on my body and the heels were low. I sat on my couch as I patiently waited for him, it wasn’t the best idea but I had sent him my address after the call. The knock on the door made me jolt from my seat, standing up abruptly. I open my front door and my face turns to a hue that I was sure matched my dress.

“Is it too much?” He asks softly. He had black slacks on with a stripped polo. Red and black stripes, we matched. My smile grows when I see what he was holding. A dozen roses. “No, it’s not too much, thank you.” I grab the flowers and make my way to the nearby kitchen, placing them in a vase before finding him again. “Should we go?” I ask with a smile. “Yeah, yeah, let’s go.” He returns the smile and holds his hands out and I take it.

The date was nice, he took me to a corner restaurant, it was family owned and nice. I explained to him about how my mom was, what she wanted from me. He listened to everything I said, not leaving anything unheard. Then it was his turn, I found it cute how he was so passionate about his career. He explains how he’s sad that they lost the game the night before but to have me sitting in front of him, that it was worth it. I can’t help but smile at his words. He also explains how the second he caught a glimpse of me that he couldn’t think of anything else for the remainder of the game.

The drive home was anything but quiet. I discovered we had the exact same music taste when he gave me the aux. He rolled his windows down and we sung to the songs as the wind flowed through the car. We giggled through the lyrics and even when we arrived at my home, he walked me to my door. I open the door to go in but before I do I turn around and look up at him. “Thank you… for this, I mean- I had an amazing time.” I look at him with a tilt of my head, smiling up. “I had a good time too…” he smiles back, reach his hand to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear.

We stared at each other for a moment before he made the first move. He leaned down and softly pressed his lips to mine. He pulls away with a goofy smile plastered on his face. “Have a good night, y/n.” “You too, Alex.” I say before going inside, reluctantly closing the door behind me. As you could probably guess, in less than thirty minutes I was on FaceTime with Johanna, telling her every last detail. She basked in my love life, complaining every now and then that she wishes she were me. Then my mom called me, I sigh and bid Johanna a goodbye.

“Hey, Ma.” I say through a sigh. “Have you met him yet?!” She practically sighs through the phone. I pull the phone away from my ear before putting it back to respond to her. “Yes, I met him today.” “Have you started planning the wedding?” “What?!” “Well, if not then get to it.” Then she hangs up. I scoff in disbelief before sitting my phone down.

That’s how the next few weeks went, Alex and I going on dates whenever our schedules allowed it. I made him aware that I wasn’t ready for anything more than kissing, I told him that I didn’t want to regret anything. He completely understood and didn’t go any further than what I asked. The furthest ever going was a make out session on my couch, that was followed by cuddling and him staying the night.

And that leads to today, Alex had stayed the night before. He was utilizing my shower as I cooked breakfast for the two of us. Loud bangs come from my front door. Any other person would be alarmed but by the old voices shouting I could tell it was my mother. I switch the stove off before making my way to the door. “Ma, what’s the matter?” I ask as I open the door. She opens her mouth to speak before her attention is caught by something else. Alex walks out of my bathroom with a towel around his waist. “Who the hell is knocking like that?” Him and my mom make eye contact and he instantly realizes his mistake.

My mom pushes past me, inviting herself into my home and walking towards a clearly uncomfortable Alex. I close the door and prepare for the worst. I stare in shock as my mom grabs Alex’s face, pulling him down to her short height to what it looks like examine him. His wide eyes find mine and I have to cover my mouth to hold back my laugh. My mom completely ignored the fact that he was covered by a single towel. “Hm, this is him, then?” My mom tsks disapprovingly before letting him go.

“Baby, go put some clothes on.” Alex takes the chance to slip into my bedroom and away from my mother. “Baby?” She scoffs, “that is a grown man.” I can’t help but laugh. “Ma, it’s a nickname. What’re you doing here?” “I came to tell you in person that your youngest sister has gotten engaged.” My eyes go wide, “what?! She’s eighteen?” “The perfect age of you ask me.” “Whatever, ma.” My mom scoffs, “don’t whatever me, young lady!” “Ma, you’re not going to come into my home to yell at me.” I snap back.

She was about to respond but I’d cut off by Alex stepping out of my room. He scratches his neck as he makes his way to stand next to me. “Do you plan on proposing to my daughter anytime soon?” She crosses her arms. I already warned Alex to not be intimidated by her. He looks down at me then back to my mom. “Maybe, in the future.” He says sternly to her. She scoffs and throws her hands up. “Maybe?!” She looks at me, “do you hear this man?” “Yes, ma. I hear him loud and clear. If you’ve come here to scold me and my boyfriend I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

She shakes her head, muttering a thousand things under her breath as she makes her way to the front door. She exits and I close the door, turning around to see Alex with a shit eating grin on his face. “What?” I furrow my brows at him. “You called me your boyfriend.” I roll my eyes and smile. “Yeah, yeah, don’t let your ego get too big.” I say as I walk up to him, rising on my tippy toes to press a kiss to his lips. I begin to pull away but he stops me, pulling me in once again for a heated kiss. My hands slip under his shirt, resting on his lower stomach. He sucks in a deep breath, I could tell he was hoping I didn’t notice as we kissed but I did. He grew hard just from an innocent touch.

I lead him to my couch, sitting him down and then crawling into his lap. I sit down on his tent fully, not pausing the kiss. He tries his absolute hardest to not take control and have me right there. He gently rests his hands on my hips. After about five minutes of making out I decide to tease him. I slowly circle my hips, grinding onto his hard clothed dick deliciously slow. He whines into the kiss, still refusing to move my hips himself. He keeps my wish, not touching me. My hips don’t stop, my movements growing faster. He moves from the kiss, throwing his head back as he lets moans flow from his lips.

I hold my hands on his shoulders for support as I grind harshly. His jaw drops and his legs shake softly. I keep moving until his shaking stops and his grip on my hips tighten. I raise my hips off of him and look down at his sweatpants. There was an obvious wet stain on his crotch. I look up at him and smile. He rolls his eyes, his pinks a light pink hue, “shut up.” I giggle and move to sit next to him. I run my hands along his jaw as I think. He looks at me and smiles, “what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?”

“I’m ready” his eyes go wide, obliviously knowing what I was referring to. “A-are you sure? I mean, if you don’t want to, you don’t have to.” I shut him up by pressing my lips to his once again. “Y/n…” he mumbles against my lips. “If you really wanna do this, I want you to be in control, okay? Want you to be able to stop at any second.” I pull away from him and nod, climbing back into his lap. I reach for the bottom of my tank top and pull it off of myself, revealing my naked breasts. He takes time to give attention to each one before moving back to kissing my lips.

We help each other out of our clothes and he ends up laying down on the couch with me on top and a condom hugging his cock. I brace myself, holding my hands on his chest as i sit down. For a moment I was convinced he would fit at all, but with some easing I sat all the way down. Alex’s hands held my hips tightly as I threw my head back, not moving until I got used to his size. Eventually, I roll my hips on him. We moan out in unison as I ride him slowly.

He doesn’t keep himself from moaning as he discovered each moan made my pussy flutter. My movements falter and he takes over, moving my hips back and forth on his dick. I whine out as I lean down to kiss him. My cunt clenches around him, telling him I was oh so close to cumming. He keeps his paste as I cum around his dick. He smiles against my lips, swallowing my moans. He disconnects the kiss, moaning as he cums into the condom, filling it up. I tiredly move off of him so he could get rid of the condom.

As he was throwing away the condom, I walk up to him in the kitchen and wrap my arms around his back. “What’re you doing?” “How many condoms do you have?” I move to be in front of him and in his view. “Five, it was a six pack.” He raises a brow, “why?” “Go get another one.” He doesn’t hesitate, rushing into our bedroom to get another one from the box. While I wait for him, I hop on top of the counter, spreading my legs for him for when he comes back.

He walks back in with the condom already snug on his dick. He stands in between my legs, pressing his lips to mine in another kiss. He likes himself up before sinking in, not holding back this time. He knew that my pussy was already used to him, moving almost immediately. I throw my head back, subconsciously. He rushes to put his hand on the back cabinet, cushioning where I laid my head. His other finger reaches down to my clit, rubbing slow and antagonizing circles.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so fucking wet for me.” He moans into the kiss. “All mine.” He assures as his thrusts grew harsher and faster. He felt my pussy clench around him, making him aware that I was close to cumming once again. “Cum for me, do it.” He pulls away from the kiss and moves down to suck marks into my neck. This gesture sends me over the edge, my juices squirting all over his lower abdomen. His thrusts grow sloppy as he fills the condom up with his warm ropes of cum once again. At first I was embarrassed with the mess until he smirked and pressed a haste kiss to my lips before speaking. “I’m gonna make you do that on my dick four more times, sound good to you?”

And he kept his promise, finding any suitable surface, making my cunt squirt on him over and over until he was finally satisfied. But who knows, maybe my mom is right, maybe this is the man I wanna marry.

#smut #hockey smut #nhl #detroit red wings #alex lyon smut

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manestjerne · 2 years ago

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Let me save you pt. IV

Juice Ortiz x female

Word count: 5.1k

Warnings: toxic relationship, abuse, blood, injuries, mentions of crimes, angst

A/N: Maybe it’s a little too much, but I really felt like it, promise the other parts will be more calm and fluffy, still hope you enjoy🥰

It’s been a few days now, and not much has changed. He still wasn’t talking to me about things he should, but I knew it was only a matter of time. But at least we talked a lot, about everything except the important things, but it’s okay. If he wasn’t here we were texting and it made me feel more safe.

I got up late, enjoying my day off, when I got an unexpected call. It was from St. Thomas, one of the hospitals I applied to. They wanted me to come for an interview and I could actually go there the same day, since I wasn’t at work, so I took a quick shower, did my makeup and put a jacket on to cover the tattoos on my arms. At least for the interview. I really wanted to get this job and the phone call was promising. I sat in my car, feeling like I wasn’t there for ages. Sound of the engine starting warmed my heart a little. I was still stressed, but nothing bad can happen, the worst thing is them not hiring me, but that’s not the end of the world. Driving 30 miles and obeying all the rules was pretty boring, so I decided to step on the gas harder. I knew well why I stopped doing that, but still, it can’t get any worse now, can it?

The lady interviewing me was much nicer than I expected and at the end she said I can get started next week. After that she was talking about some papers I’ll need to sign, but I couldn’t focus on that. The only thing in my head was who should I call first. My shitty boss, telling him I won’t stand behind his shitty bar ever again, or Juice. That one won’t be so easy, me moving from Lodi might make our situation worse. Leaving the room and going down the hall I was staring at my phone, wondering what should I tell him first. New job, moving out? I stared at my phone and stopped rapidly before tripping over some man. He stopped too, so I looked at him. Pretty tall, black beard and hair with silver accents, two long scars by his mouth, imitating a wide smile. But that was not what I was looking at, his cutte was hella familiar.

- Holy shit - I said before thinking of anything else

- Hi - he laughed - can I help you?

- Uh-huh. I have a quick question.

- Go on then - his smile was warm

- Is “Redwood Original” the name of your charter? - I pointed at his patch, which I saw way too many times, but on a different guy

- Ya. Why? - I liked his accent

- And what are you doing here?

- What do you mean by “here”? - his laugh was a bit comforting looking at the weirdness of the situation - The hospital?

- No, what are you doing in Charming?

- Well, darlin’ I live here.

- You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!

- I’m actually not, but can you tell me what’s wrong?

- Nothing’s wrong. Could you tell Juice I said hi?

- Juice? - I heard confusion in his voice

- Yeah… - he kinda put me off guard

- Oh no, don’t get me wrong. We just didn’t know he had a lady.

- We’re just friends, nothing serious - I said nervously and he smirked

- Hey, Chibs! - I heard a man yelling from the other side of the hall - No time for chicks now, we have to go.

- Shit, sorry. So what’s your name again?

- Y/n - I realised I didn’t introduce myself - thanks Chibs.

- Anything - he said walking away

Problem solved. I dialled my bosses number when I heard Chibs saying

- Ay, Tiggy. You knew Juice got himself a girl?

- No shit, finally - the other man replied with a laugh

That’s gonna be fun.

My ride back home was way quicker than it should, but I didn’t care, still happy about my new job. I sat at the balcony with my laptop and started to look through the houses for sale in Charming, after a few minutes I heard a motorcycle pulling up. A moment later I heard a familiar knock on my door, so ran there to unlock it. Juice came in without even asking.

- The hell were you doing in Charming? - I flinched at him throwing his hands in the air and saying it a bit louder than necessary

- I got a new job…. - I replied taking a step back

He must’ve seen my reaction and realised it’s because of him, staring at the floor now.

- But why didn’t you tell me you applied to St. Thomas?

- You never asked what places I applied to. Are you mad? - I decided to get more defensive and set my boundaries - I don’t get what your problem is, you never even told me where you live, so what’s this about? Scared your friends are going to meet me now? Don’t worry, it’s already too late and I still never wanted to-

- Hey - he cut me off with a laugh - What are you talking about? That’s great news.

The relief was surely visible on my face because he shortened the distance between us again.

- So you’re not mad I’m moving?

- Mad? - his laugh melted my heart - Why the hell would I be mad? It will be even easier to hit up on you when you’ll be closer. Just watch out for Tig, he might me a little extra sometimes.

My phone started buzzing but I completely ignored it.

- Why would I ever see him again? Y’all live together in a cute little house or you spend so much time at the hospital? - he didn’t say anything about that, just laughed

- You’re not going to answer?

I took the phone out of my pocket and declined the call from Mark.

- Absolutely not.

We decided to order some food and just hang out for a while. Spending time with him was something else, I felt more safe and comfortable than ever, even tho I knew him for only about a month. Although this time was different, Mark tried to call me two times and I declined. He hasn’t reach out for a few days now so it was my chance to finish it, but I couldn’t pick up when Juice was around. He will probably call again. Definitely. I tried to enjoy spending time with Juice but it was hard to focus. For the first time I was relieved when he said he’s got to go. When I closed the door behind him and sat on the couch I looked at the unread messages. “You moved to Lodi? Why didn’t you tell me?” Holy fuck. How can he know that. I stared at the messages when he called, answered immediately.

- Jesus Christ Mark. Can you finally leave me alone? We broke up months ago.

- Not really - he sounded offended - you broke up with me.

- Exactly - I just smiled at how ridiculous was what he just said - and it means we’re not together anymore

- But can we at least talk about it? For the last few months you acted like you forgot about me.

- Maybe because I did - I was confident, trying to let him know it’s really over - that’s what people do after a breakup. Fucking forget about each other, you should do that too.

- Don’t swear princess - he sounded so calm, started to freak me out

- I’m not you damn princess, what the fuck is wrong with you Mark?

- I just want to talk, you live in Lodi, right? - I felt my body tense at his words

- Well, I’m moving soon, but that’s not your business.

- But you’re still in town? I want to talk to you personally. I’ll be there in 5.

This has to be a joke. He can’t come here, he can’t know where I am.

- You’re freaking me out Mark - I said and hung up

I didn’t know what to do and lately when this happened I just texted Juice. But what am I going to tell him now? Hey, can you come save me, I think my crazy ex got my address somehow and is on his way to kill me or sth. He probably isn’t even going to come here. He surely just meant Lodi. I’ll be there in 5. I’ll be in Lodi in 5. Yup, that’s it. I opened the conversation with Juice.

Hey, I know you just left, but could you come by? I want to talk, but don’t worry, you haven’t done anything bad this time:)

I looked at the message. He won’t freak out, nothing’s happening. It sounds cool. I praised myself in my head for not overreacting when I heard knocking on the door. But it wasn’t my favourite knocking. It was more harsh, aggressive.

- Y/n, please, I just want to talk - his voice was nice, welcoming

I walked to the door slowly, thinking what could happen.

- Please, you know I won’t hurt you. Let’s just finish it.

At this point I had no choice. Slowly bringing my hand up I unlocked the door, at the same moment he slammed it open. I felt warm blood dripping from my nose. Meeting with the cool surface of the wall behind me was comforting, trying to get my thoughts together I just stood there for what felt like hours. He grabbed my hand and brought me to sit on the sofa with him.

- Oh baby, look what you made me do - he said while getting a tissue and wiping my nose and mouth, but I slammed his hand away

- What I made you do? Get out of my house and leave me alone - I yelled, but got silent as he slapped me

I wished I told Juice the truth, or at lest called him to actually come here.

- Shh, let me talk - I just nodded - look, we could start again, what do you think?

- I don’t think I’m ready for a new relationship, not with you.

- Not with me? - he put his hand on my throat and started squeezing - okay, but we don’t have to do it now, huh? - I felt my eyes watering - I can give you some time, just don’t treat me like air.

- Mark, you’re hurting me - I whispered underneath my breath

- Oh right - he pulled his hand back - sorry, love.

My phone started buzzing on the table, I tried to get it but just felt a hard punch on my ribs causing me to wrap my hands around my body.

- Who’s Juice? - he asked

- Just a friend, we work together - I forced a smile to calm him down

- Just a friend? - another punch - just a friend? - he yelled punching me again

- Yes - I said confidently

- Then why would you try to answer so fast? - another punch

I have to change my strategy before I cough my lungs out.

- I just wanted to mute, so no one will bother us.

- Oh, I’m sorry baby, you know I’m nervous sometimes.

- I know, it’s all right - I smiled, blood filling my mouth again

- So can we start again? You know I’m not like this. I have a hotel here, I’m staying for a while.

- That sounds good, but I need some rest now. You can call me tomorrow, how about that? We’ll figure something out.

He pulled me in and kissed my forehead. I felt tingling in my fingers, realising he was holding my wrists so tight I felt blood leaving my hands.

- I missed you. Glad you’re okay, I was afraid you’ll push me away again. I should go now - I felt the pressure around my wrists loosen - I’m so grateful I found you.

- How did you know where I live? - I asked before realising it will only make him stay longer

- Emily told me she talked to you before you moved.

Oh sure, fucking slut.

- I’ll go now, please don’t make me do things like that again. We’ll talk different tomorrow.

- Okay, see you then - I forced a smile and waited for him to leave so I can close the door

I sat on the couch and tried to settle my breath. While putting my fingers to my pulsing temple I felt it’s also wet and sticky. And how the fuck did that happen? I looked at my fingers covered in blood and just wished he’d really leave me alone today. I walked up to the sink to wash my hands and face, looked at the mirror. Bruises covering my neck and wrists, tried to take off my shirt to look at my ribs but couldn’t put my hands high enough so I just sat on the couch glad that it’s over and I’m all right. I remembered the times when he suddenly started being aggressive towards me and after that acted like nothing happened. That’s why I left him, that’s one of the reasons why I left LA. Focusing on what just happend I forgot about texting Juice, but when I heard knocking on my door my heart dropped.

- Y/n. Open the door please!

His scream made me shiver but I walked to the door opening it slowly. He bursted in and walked past me.

- Please don’t do that again, you can’t text me such shit and then just not answer my messages and calls, I was-

He got silent immediately when he looked at my face. Wandering around with his eyes he saw the tissues covered in blood on the coffee table.

- What the hell happened here?

I couldn’t answer, just fell into his arms feeling tears dripping on my cheeks. He gently walked me to the couch and sat close enough to wrap his hands around me in a comforting hug. He didn’t say anything, just hold me close stroking my arm lightly, waiting for me to calm down. When I started breathing normally I pulled back and looked him in the eyes, but immediately turned my head away when I felt my eyes watering again.

- Can you tell me what happened now?

- You want to hear the whole story or just todays one?

- Do we have time for the longer one? - he smiled gently encouraging me to speak

I told him everything about Mark. Starting at how we met during a race, our stormy relationship, his sudden change of attitude and finally about the breakup he couldn’t accept. Then I started about what happened today, but felt like I forgot half of it.

- So at least I was right about the toxic ex - he tried to sound funny but I heard his voice shaking - Why didn’t you tell me? Jesus, I should know, all the missed calls and messages, you flinched when I raised my voice. I should ask you about it, it’s obvious you won’t tell me.

- God, stop. Are you blaming yourself?

- Maybe a little. You should go with me, we have a doctor at the clubhouse, she should see this.

- I don’t need a doctor Juice.

He put his hand on my side which made me bring my knees up and hold them close to my chest.

- This looks like you need to see a doctor. Your nose is also not looking good.

- I don’t think it’s broken.

- Maybe it’s not, but Tara will do something about it. Let me help you, please - he sounded desperate at this point

- Okay, I’ll go.

- Then go and pack, I’ll help you but first I have to call Jax.

- Pack?

- You don’t think you’re staying here, do you?

I knew I couldn’t stay here but I was planning on getting a hotel room near Charming before I could find a house.

- I’m not homeless, I don’t need a shelter.

He just smiled at me and called Jax, I got up slowly and went to my bedroom to get the most important stuff. Juice joined me a few minutes later.

- Tara finishes her shift in about an hour, then she can come and see you, we’ll wait for her - I rolled my eyes - unless you want to go to a hospital?

- And what will I tell them?

- That you were attacked by a clowder of cats?

When we packed all the things I might need in the next few days I realised I’m still covered in blood in some places, it dried up making me feel pretty uncomfortable.

- I think I need to take a shower before we go - I said stroking my hair

- Really? - he put his face in his hands in an act of disbelief

- Really. I won’t go anywhere like that.

- As you wish princess, I’ll wait.

- Yeah, great. Can you help me with my shirt?

- You can’t put your hands up and still tried to refuse seeing a doctor?

- I just. I don’t want to go to your clubhouse okay, definitely not looking like that.

- We’re used to it, don’t worry.

- Used to bringing beat up hoes by another members? - I didn’t actually know why I reacted like that

I was really grateful Juice wanted to help me, I guess it was just my reaction about being so stressed lately. I automatically regretted saying that, waiting for him to take up the argument, but instead he came closer and lightly grabbed my hands.

- Y/n - he started softly - you’re not a hoe, nobody thinks you are. You shouldn’t think about yourself like that either. I know you’re stressed, but you know I just want to help.

- I know, I’m sorry…

- Don’t be sorry, just let me do what’s best for you now.

When I took a shower Juice helped me with my bags and we were ready to go. He stopped at the door and turned to me.

- Can we take your car? I’m not sure bike is a good option for our trip - he smiled

- Sure - I tossed him the keys - but you drive.

We walked out and I leaded him to my car, before he put the bags in the trunk he stopped and looked at it for a moment.

- A fucking challenger? You really were playing Fast and Furious back there.

I just laughed and got in the passenger sit, realising I’ve never sat here.

- I never let anyone drive it, it’s like my child, so you better be careful - I sent him a warning smile - you should feel honoured.

- Well, I am. Don’t worry, I won’t be speeding.

- Oh don’t be ridiculous, that’s what this car was made for. Just don’t hit any pedestrians or worse, a curb - I sent him a death stare and he just laughed before turning on the engine

- Wow - his smile was beautiful, especially when he was sitting here

I started getting more nervous as we entered Charming. Handling one biker was enough for me and meeting an entire charter sounded even worse. I met one, basically two of them and they seem nice, but I don’t think that’s really how they are. We pulled up in the parking lot around midnight. Juice helped me get my bag and we headed to the clubhouse. Silently I wished it’ll be empty since it was that late, but I was wrong. Maybe it wasn’t crowded, but when we entered, the hot smell of alcohol and cigarettes hit me as if I walked to a crowded bar in a big city. Everybody got quiet and all eyes were on me. Chibs stood up and walked to me, patting my shoulder lightly.

- Hello sweetie. I believe you looked better last time I saw you.

- Oh thanks, nice to see you too, now shove off - I said before thinking about it

At least I didn’t say fuck off.

- I knew you were a good one when I first met you - he laughed and went back to the couch

I looked around and saw that they’re not staring at me now, when I walked through the room everyone greeted me, like they actually were friendly. Juice told me to sit next to Chibs since I already knew him and he went to get Jax.

- Oh hello - said the man with curly hair I saw at the hospital - I’m Tig.

- I remembered that - I smiled lightly - I’m y/n.

- Well, so you’re Juice’s girl, huh?

- Okay, I don’t know what he told you, but we’re just friends - I was pretty annoyed by hearing it again, not knowing what Juice was saying about me

- Actually he told us nothing about you. We tried asking him but he only said that you’re from Lodi, nothing more. But now - his blue eyes wandered around my face and body, tracing all the visible bruises - what happened?

- Just a few scratches, Juice insisted that I should see a doctor so here I am, waiting for Tara.

- But who did it?

- Thanks for your worries Tig, but that’s not important.

- I’ll get you a beer, huh? - he smiled and walked up to the bar

Actually a beer is a good idea.

- Listen - I turned to Chibs immediately when I heard his voice - I know you’re not comfortable here and you don’t want to talk about it, but we need to know who did that. You’re a friend to a club now, we’ll help you.

- Juice helped me already - I shrugged my shoulders

- So you’re sure that this person won’t find you here?

- Uh, well - but I never finished

Juice came in with Jax and gave me a hand to help me get up.

- Jesus Christ… - Jax gently wrapped his hands around me as a welcome - Are you allright? Tara will be here soon, she’ll take care of you.

- I’m sorry Jax, I didn’t want to come here in her free time. I’m really grateful she’ll come.

- That’s not a problem.

- Now - Juice looked more serious then ever - can you give me your phone?

- My phone? Why do you need it?

- I need to make sure he won’t bother you again, your phone can help me find him. And don’t say you don’t want me to do that, I’ll find him either way, we can’t risk him coming back.

I didn’t know what to say, I never thought this could happen. Juice bringing me here should keep me safe.

- I’ll come with you - said a long haired man sitting at the table besides us, he greeted me with the warmest smile saying his name’s Bobby

- I’ll go too - said Chibs standing up slowly

- Count me in - Jax nodded looking at me

- If you have so many volunteers - Tig came back with our beers - I’ll stay here, keep an eye on the girls.

- Okay, so we’re all set - Jax smiled at me again - Tara will be here any minute, then we can go.

I sat on the couch, glued to Juice’s side when they were talking about some random shit, I couldn’t focus on the conversation thinking about what was going to happen. When all of them got in an argument about Tig’s hair I felt Juice’s eyes landing on me. Bringing my head up I looked at him and he put his hand on my cheek sending me a warming smile.

- Are you going to kill him? - I asked seriously, keeping my eyes on his

- We’ll do what’s necessary - he kissed my forehead

- Don’t do this - I shyly tried to push him away

- And why is that? - I looked around the room - I told you they don’t give a fuck.

And they actually didn’t. No one was even looking at us. I took a sip of my beer realising it’s almost empty.

- Another one? - Juice asked and I just nodded

When he left I looked around the room again, how can they all be so calm? My eyes stopped at a woman coming through the door. She also saw me, gave me a welcoming smile and came up to me.

- And you must be y/n. I’m Tara, nice to meet you. Let’s go clean you up.

She leaded me to a smaller room and closed the door. I looked around at the wooden table and chairs around it. Tara encouraged me to sit down and opened her bag, starting to clean the cuts on my face.

- I’m sorry you had to come here, I really wanted to do this myself but Juice got stubborn.

- Don’t worry, I help the club when I can, wanna tell me what happened?

I couldn’t say anything because the door opened and Jax came in saying that they’re ready to go. He gave Tara a kiss and told her to take care of me, after that he was gone and we stayed alone again.

- So? - she continued - it doesn’t look like a little fight with a friend.

She seemed so peaceful that I decided to shorten the story for her. She looked at me from time to time but never interrupted. When I finished she stopped for a moment and looked me in the eyes.

- I know what you’re going through, trust me. The guys will take care of him and you’ll be safe, it’ll be okay. Let them do what they have to, before it’s too late.

I didn’t know what to say, just kept looking at the door not wanting to catch her sight again.

- Good news, your nose is not broken, but it may bleed from time to time. And about your wrists-

- Oh, probably nothing happened, I’ve actually had problems with my wrists for a few years now.

- Yeah, I can see that, you should think about a surgery. None of your ribs are broken too, but it looks bad, so I’ll come again and see what’s going on in a few days. For now you’re okay - she smiled while packing her bag - I’m really sorry, wanted to stay with you but our babysitter called and I need to go home.

- Oh sure, you should be home right after you finished work. Thank you again for all you did for me, I really appreciate that.

She smiled and opened the door for me. I instantly came to sit with Tig since he was the only one here I “knew”.

- You look better now, hope you also feel that way - he handed me a beer

- Do you drink here all day long or is today any special?

- There are no limits about drinking here, don’t worry.

He was actually nice and pretty funny. All of them were, maybe it’s not going to be as bad as I thought. We talked for about 40 minutes before they came back and I actually enjoyed our conversation. I felt pretty safe here. That’s weird. When boys came through the door I felt shivers on my body. Knives and guns at their belts, bruises and scratches everywhere, they just looked scary.

- It’s all done, you don’t have to worry about him anymore - Jax said with a smile - but I think you should stay here, at least ‘till tomorrow.

- He’s right, come on - Juice got my bag and gave me his hand

I followed him through the hall and entered his room. It was much cleaner than I thought and kinda cozy. If you can say a room at a clubhouse is cozy. I went through my bag to find a T-shirt and matching shorts to sleep in. Juice helped me with a shirt and put my bag back on the floor.

- I’m going to take a shower now, you can change here. The covers are clean, don’t worry - he laughed as he closed the bathroom door behind him

I changed my jeans to shorts and crawled under the covers. The bed was much more comfortable that it looked, but maybe it was just because I was really tired. I tried not to drift away waiting for Juice to come back. When he finally opened the door quietly and made sure I’m not asleep he sat down next to me and grabbed my hand.

- You’re safe here y/n, everything will be fine. Aren’t you hungry?

- I don’t know.

- How can you don’t know? - he laughed softly

- I mean, I probably won’t eat anything, you know.

- Are you sure? I can get you something.

- I’m good - I felt my eyes closing

- Okay, so goodnight - I felt him getting up and opened my eyes again

- Are you not going to stay with me? - he froze

- Do you want me to stay?

- Well… - he raised his eyebrow - yeah, okay. I want you to stay.

He said nothing and laid down next to me, but still keeping some distance, so I decided to shorten it. Rested my head on his arm and smiled when he kissed my forehead again. That felt nice, I love feeling his body next to mine. He gently traced all my face features with his fingers, not leaving any detail, while I slowly fell asleep feeling his hot breath in my hair.

#juan carlos #juan carlos imagine #juan carlos ortiz #juice #juice imagine #juice ortiz #juice ortiz x reader #juice x reader #soa #soa imagine #sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy imagine

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real-hws-confessions · 20 hours ago

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!! oh, you played as martha at one point,,, that is HELLA cool 👀👀👀 you would know better than i would in that case, i'd say

one thing of note is that this is less a heathers au and more heathers-inspired, even taking into account that i'm only keeping elements of the premise; i listened to all the songs in order/watched animatics, and learned trivia about how different productions would vary in acting choices (i.e sometimes ram secretly likes martha but buries it and sometimes he really really doesn't) - so i get the gist, but it isn't 1:1. this is self-indulgent to the fullest

regarding my choice of feli as martha; there's a few reasons for doing this. one is that my interpretations of feliciano get very self-indulgent as well, and may not be the same as how other people in the fandom write him (i like hetare feli lots). this is the most important one to contextualise my entire thought experiment, however;

it was midnight. i was watching epic the musical animatics and it got me feeling nostalgic, ergo how i went back to heathers animatics

through youtube comments, tvtropes and a lot of searching i discovered the trivia about how ram actually does have a soft spot for martha depending on acting choices. upon learning this, my brain superimposed the image of martha's suicide attempt getting interrupted by ram.

and then i immediately felt pain because. i don't actually like ram from heathers the musical

i didn't want that image superimposed on my brain hfjhhdhdhdjd my apologies to martha but ram is NOT prince charming material. i wanted to replace that image with a ship that i actually like asap, so off-kilter gerita au it was

it was past midnight by then and i was very sleep deprived.

anyways. i felt i could equate the part where martha is described as having her head in the clouds in a way (dreaming of a happy ending, being called 'weird all the time' by ram in big fun, the song kindergarten boyfriend, etc) to feliciano being feliciano in anime/manga canon (the main timeline, anyway)

since early canon germany thinks veneziano is weird and off-putting and takes time to warm up to him, veneziano also calls germany his first friend, very clearly is seen as annoying by some other nations (re: america and england kicking him back to germany in a skit and getting annoyed when france kidnaps him again) and comes off as head-in-the-clouds-ish + incredibly clingy. (which made for fun contrast when it was germany that tried to confess and veneziano that was oblivious in valentino, but shhhhhh that's not as relevant for this au)

so by putting feli and ludwig in these roles, i was essentially thinking 'feli is still clingy towards ludwig, who's going for the American High School Milestones™️ as is expected of his gender-assigned role, and doesn't have time to indulge in feli's whims'. and that maybe, as ludwig attempts to leave feli behind, feli thinks in this au 'ah. our younger days... that was my first love huh' like a softcore less non-death version of realising that hre is dead

and it works better if feli stays a guy and isn't genderbent the way kiku is for his Veronica role, because feli's eccentricities wouldn't be enough of a deterrent if he was a cisgirl. cisgirl feli would likely be conventionally attractive enough to be commodified, whereas i could probably swing gay slurs as the reason for feli getting the short end of the stick in the heathers social hierarchy. like he tries flirting with girls as well but his silliness/klutz tendencies/evidently still attached to ludwig who appears uninterested gives a different image

ergo, in this, feli clings to any scrap of affection that ludwig still gives, like a dog. and then when feli goes to ludwig's party due to a fame note of affection (i think gilbert's the one that'd have to host the party probably, considering ludwig's entire personality) ludwig cottons on that feli got a note supposedly by ludwig himself

and that's where ludwig stops playing along with the ram role i haphazardly assigned to him in my plan to rid myself the vision of sympathetic ram

like 'oh shit. my reticence towards feliciano is being used against him in some sort of bullying tactic. feliciano is being targeted' and in sudden panic ludwig goes from largely not acknowledging feli in school to stalking his every footstep. and when the other sports players go 'hey... i thought we agreed he was annoying...' ludwig just sloooowly shifts in front of feliciano while giving off a very suspicious, very disconcerting glare

and people who're more familiar with ludwig know that as popular as he is, he's actually pretty straightlaced

like if i were to use actual Chandler, Duke and MacNamara for the Heathers instead of substituting them with Hetalia characters (going back and forth on who it should be since there's no true villain in hetalia), it would be akin to 'they tried - maybe even succeeded - in having sex with him or scoring a date with him, but he isn't mean or objectifies them or anything'. and keep in mind ludwig still holds pretty strong (though suppressed) affection for feli in this timeline i'm cooking up so romantically speaking at least they'd probably think he's as affectionate as a dead wet fish

so while there are of course people who think 'long-lasting bullying tactic?' or 'he's being too good to an idiot who doesn't deserve the help?' (because this is still inspired by heathers) it becomes pretty clear that no,,, ludwig isn't just feeling responsible for some reason or playing a trick,,,,, he actually likes this guy. 'i didn't know this guy could smile at anyone like that' kinda stuff

so when kiku comes back to feli to see if all is okay with the guy feli had been pining over, they eventually make an alliance over making sure feli doesn't trip over his own shoelaces

again, self-indulgent! although now i'm thinking about kiku's role again,,, like What are his motivations as the veronica in the first place...

social connections maybe? 'trying to build a network for the future, those three seem competent and are capable of leadership' and then walks into a shitnest of epic proportions that takes kiku a while to draw away from

i still don't know who kiku's jd is. i don't even know if kiku will have a jd. for all i know veronica!kiku doesn't offend her version of chandler at all so no murder happens and the character that would have been veronica!kiku's jd helps her realise that trying to hang out with the heathers for future networking is going nowhere

it at least gives an explanation on why kiku is wary of ludwig at first in this, though. 'you're not like that group, right. i know they tried to use you to humiliate feli so why are you here' and then the stark relief upon realising that ludwig is a Decent Person, Actually

and upon hanging out with feli again and becoming more familiar with ludwig, this version of kiku realises that there is a way to Forge Connections for the Future that isn't hanging around mean girls. ludwig is genuinely competent, and his presence is a grounding presence for feliciano that allows for his buried capabilities to shine. this could be the start of something. Let's Start A Club.

it is hours past midnight again, so i am... gonna stop typing. hope you enjoyed, and if you did not... sorry ^_^" good night :>

#hws #hetalia confessions #long post

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cvnntagious · 6 months ago

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https://www.tumblr.com/cvnntagious/757554423304273920/hold-it-down?source=share

Do u do any character building? If so Can u build on this plss? I feel like we didn't get enough with the one blurb nd I been thinking about it for dayss now. "Show you I'm not just here to get my dick wet anymore." Like I neeeeedddd the backstory

link

☆ introducing... fuckboy!matt

this's ib : @sturnioz and any others that've made anything similar !

You'd no idea how you could've let yourself get roped in by his charm, but you did.

He was quiet, almost stealthy— slowly creeping his way into your life bit by bit. It had started when he chose his seat next to you at the beginning of the semester, and never moved from it. He hadn't uttered a word to you in the beginning, paying you no mind for at least a week. You weren't complaining, of course. You didn't know the guy, so why expect him to speak to you?

Still, it'd led you to have certain... curiosities. He always smelled good, probably some type of strong cologne. Fitted hats and collared shirts with baggy jeans seemed to be a must for him, a silver chain either dangling on full display or tucked in his shirts, barely peeking around his neck. And those rings — fuck, they were enough to drive you up the wall.

Being that you only interacted within a small circle of people, you'd never seen or heard of him until then. That was, until you found yourself at the biggest party of the year. It wasn't like you were against partying or anything, you just didn't do it often, leaving you feeling out of place within the large crowds of people.

Despite this being the party most people at your university waited for year-round, it being open invitation and ran by the most well known frat on campus, you hadn't even planned to go. You were dragged along by your friend; She'd claimed to get invited by a guy there, not wanting to go to the party with her new date all alone.

"I'm right here," The two of you heard over the music from behind you as you walked into the party hand in hand, causing your friend to instantly whip around.

Your brows furrowed as soon as you made eye contact with her "date" for the night. Chris Sturniolo. Not much of a date, if she'd asked you, but your friend seemed overjoyed to see him, instantly letting go of your hand to make her way over to him. With a bitter taste in your mouth, you stalked behind your friend, very clearly less enthusiastic than her when you greeted him.

You couldn't help but get the notion he was disinterested when your friend had kissed his cheek as a greeting, causing Chris to wrap his arms around her torso. Maybe his mind was preoccupied with running the party? Or maybe it was the fact that he'd probably slept with at least half the girls attending, likely not wanting to seem off the market.

"We got hella booze, if you drink, kid," You heard Chris say, confused when you saw him looking at you. You looked to your friend, who was practically attached to him now. "I'll be taking her, and, um-" He started again before you could even respond, only to cut himself off by turning quickly.

Coming out from behind Chris, your seating buddy looked at him with a smirk, adjusting the hat on his head with both of his hands on the bill that faced backwards. He gave an almost mischievous smile before allowing his eyes to land on you, crossing his arms as he stood beside Chris and your friend in front of you.

"Oh, perfect. This's my brother, Matt," Chris reached over to slap Matt's chest as a gesture, "You two can entertain each other." Chris words almost rocked your world, making your eyes jump back and forth between the two. Of course Matt was a Sturniolo brother, they looked so alike. How had you not realized it before? They were identical. A whole week of practically ogling at the boy in the seat beside you, and you hadn't even connected the dots.

The way Matt dapped up his brother, who shot him a wink before taking off into a dark hallway with your friend, and began taking a few steps closer to you somehow made your already deadpan face drop further. "Y'want something?" He finally asked, a bit offput by your silence, "I can make hellova cocktail if you j'say the words." He began walking past you while he spoke, allowing you to choose whether you'd let him entertain you or not as he glanced behind himself at you.

With a reluctant sigh, you took a few quick steps to catch up with him, deciding hanging out with him was better than having been left alone by your friend at a party you didn't even want to go to. Was this a bad idea? Probably, but it was worth a shot. You couldn't help wondering if he even recognized you – not in your usual attire for the party. This being the first time hes actually spoken to you outside of passing you a paper from the professor and whatnot, it didn't seem unlikely that he had no idea who you were.

━━★

That being said, this was even more surprising than anything. Matt hadn't lied when he claimed to know how to mix drinks— Strong ones, at that. A few too many, and here you were, both drunk and stumbling into some random room. Matt had laid you down on the bed, licking over his teeth as he smiled when he'd hooked his arms under your thighs. He'd never been talkative, allowing the alcohol the two of you sipped on, and even downed together at one point loosen you up as you did all the talking for him.

The liquor made your body hot, each hum he'd give you when you'd finish a sentence only tightening your chest. He knew what he was doing, and he knew you were falling for it. It was only a matter of time before he said the words, leaning against the counter in the thrashed kitchen of the fraternity. "You're flushed." His eyes had run up your body before meeting yours, "Y'look like you wanna say somethin', Sweetheart. C'mon, say it."

"Say it," He demanded, looking up at you through your legs, "What d'you want?" His finger ran over the wet spot on your cute pink panties, your pants having been discarded somewhere along the journey from the door to the bed.

Your eyes pleaded at the sight of the chunky silver rings adorning his fingers as they toyed with you through the fabric. "F- fingers," You whispered, making Matt kiss his teeth.

"Mhm- less talkative than earlier, huh?" He chuckled, his index and middle fingers hooking under your waistband, "One more time f'me. Maybe I didn't hear y'right."

"Fingers, Matt," You spoke up, your eagerness and impatience apparent with the way you spoke in a rushed tone.

Matt nodded, ego stoked just the way he liked it. He chuckled again as he worked his fingers to pull your panties down mid-thigh. "Not often the first time my name comes out of a girls mouth is when she's pleading for me," He muttered, barely loud enough for you to catch it as he reached to press his fingers against your aching nub, already slick with arousal, "Let's keep it on your tongue, yeah?"

With that, he ran the soft pads of his fingers over your most sensitive area, eliciting a whine from you. You lifted your knees and planted your socked feet beside Matt's body, his free arm still wrapped around it to keep you in place. His eyes never left yours as he spread your juices all around gently, almost teasing.

"Matt," You whined, practically pleading for more.

"There it is." He voice came out as smoothly as he'd slipped his fingers inside you, a gasp escaping your lips at the stretch of two fingers at once.

That was when you saw it — his rings only on his pointer and pinkie on that hand, like he'd expected to be putting the fingers in between to good use. The thought alone made you squeal, not to mention how his fingers began pumping in and out of you. Your head threw back as he worked his fingers inside of you, jaw slack when he curled them into your gummy walls.

It was euphoric, and he knew it. His fingers were like magic, reappearing just as quick as they'd disappeared. The months of abstinence mixed with the alcohol you'd consumed just moments before made this all surreal. When the pad of his thumb made contact with your clit, you knew you were done for, whines vulgarly spewing from your mouth. His pace quickened, the way he watched your face twist making him all the more eager to send you over the edge.

Tightening around the slender fingers he so skillfully fucked into you with, he could feel and see you were close. He could see that imaginary knot in your stomach with his third eye, hungry gaze watching you begin to writhe in his grasp. "You got it," He finally spoke up, his voice proving how enticed your reactions had made him, "You can let go f'me, Sweetheart. Doin' s'good, yeah."

"Matt-!" You moaned out, hand reaching between your legs to grab his wrist. He didn't even slow down; In fact, he sped up.

Despite your legs beginning to tremble, you allowed yourself to grind as much as you could, chasing your high with vigor. Then, it happened. You let out a choked breath as you released all over his fingers, moans muffled by your pursing lips following quickly after. Matt cooed to you as he rubbed you through your orgasm, middle and ring stopping their pumping so he could focus his thumb on your sensitive clit, small convulsions as a result.

Once you'd come down, he slipped his fingers out of you. You hissed through your teeth at the sensitivity, feeling him let go of your leg and lift himself off the foot of the bed. His eyes flicked from yours to his cum-coated fingers, bringing them up to his pink, wet lips. Hungrily, he slipped one into his mouth, licking it clean and taking it out with a pop before repeating this action with the other.

He could feel you watching him, eyes slowly lifting to yours once more. He kissed his teeth, knowing you were expecting him to continue. Against his dick's wishes, he bent down to pick up your cute underwear. "We done, can't fuck drunk" He simply stated, slipping the fabric into his back pocket, "Gonna have to get these back 'nother time.

This wouldn't be the last of Matthew Sturniolo.

W/C: 1.7k taglist: in comments (lmk If you wanna be added!) A/N: i've gotten so many anons asking me to character build and honestly i'm excited about it (even though I hadn't anticipated doing any actual au's) . interaction is super appreciated as it lets me know you guys want me to continue posting things like this. thank you !

-love, your grandma cvnty ☆!

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fruggo · 4 years ago

Text

the boys x tough f!reader (part 2)

requested by : @dranonymous

i love this idea and i hope you all enjoy part two! :D here’s part 1 with the original request.

warnings: swearing, canon-typical violence, dwight is really cute, danny is an asshole, jake is that cute “stoic man who is actually caring and thoughtful” trope because i say so

𝐃𝐖𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐅𝐈𝐄𝐋𝐃

you are so cool. like ,,,,,so cool

dwight admires you so much. you just got here and yet you are breaking pyramid head’s ankles—dodging his trail of torment left and right, the killer just can’t touch you.

and how did you feel about everything? terrified, honestly, but nobody would ever be able to tell because you didn’t let it get to you. it was like you had already been here before, because the second you learned how to do something, you had it down no problem. fixing generators came naturally, and you could also run the killer for the whole trial if you had to. teammates could easily rely on you to do whatever needed to be done.

that was what made you and dwight such a powerful duo. from the moment you met, you knew you felt comfortable around this guy. he was sweet, maybe a little timid sometimes, but he knew how to step up and be a leader for everyone despite his fears.

you both knew what to do, and you fit together like a glove. your minds worked in very similar ways, which made communicating that much easier and efficient; the second a decision needed to be made, dwight was on top of it, encouraging the teammates and helping them get on their feet. you were already ahead of them, so dwight would just nod to you, knowing you could do your job well.

of course, there were times when dwight’s anxiety got the better of him, and you had to be the one encouraging him.

dwight hated the hag. despised her. he could not stand her jumpscares when a trap was triggered, he would swear he was about to have a heart attack. he couldn’t admit this at first, but you figured it out when feng min was hooked and dwight stuck to the generator, nervously glancing over his shoulder every few seconds. he always went for the saves, so something was obviously wrong.

“dwight? why don’t you go save her?” you asked, eyeing him from your side of the generator.

he didn’t respond, looking over his shoulder again.

you decided to rescue min, but when you got back, you were going to chew dwight out until he gave you a straight answer.

you crawled up to the hook to avoid triggering a trap and gently lowered min to the ground. the two of you inched away carefully until you were far enough away to patch her wound.

“dwight, get off your ass and answer me,” you demanded (affectionately) once you were back at the generator, which was nearly finished. “what’s wrong?”

his eyes conveyed nervousness in every sense of the word; they darted all around, searching for any incoming danger. this was your first time seeing him like this, so you were confused. was he alright?

“it’s just…the hag,” he started, still fiddling with the wires. “her traps, i can’t…”

oh. was he anxious about the traps?

“i just can’t deal with them,” he finally said with difficulty. that was understandable; when they caught you off guard it definitely made you leap out of your skin.

“dwight, listen,” you said. “you’ve dealt with every other killer in this realm, haven’t you? you’ve bested the nurse, the huntress, micky myers, and even the spirit, who’s a bitch. i know hag’s traps are fucking terrifying, but you’re dwight! you are a leader, and you are good at being a leader. you can get out of here, i promise. and besides, with me here, you have nothing to worry about. i’ll kick that witch’s ass, got it?”

your very inspirational speech got him to smile. you were right, anyways—you could definitely kick the hag’s ass. what could go wrong?

nothing, actually. genuinely nothing went wrong. you took chase for the rest of the trial so that dwight didn’t have to worry about a thing, and everybody escaped with no problem. he didn’t understand how you were so good at evading capture—but perhaps you would tell him about your past eventually. you hadn’t yet decided.

back at the campfire, you and dwight comfortably sat side-by-side, patiently waiting until your next trials.

“thanks,” he said.

“for what?”

“for that very motivational speech you gave me,” he laughed.

you wiped imaginary dust off of your shoulder, giving him a confident smile. “i got your back. and man, that hag lady really is a bitch, huh? i can see why you hate her.”

that comment unintentionally caused one of dwight’s long, angry rants about his least favorite killer, and all you could do was watch him and listen with a soft grin on your lips. you’d never seen him angry before—it was adorable. made you wonder if you should just piss him off for fun sometimes.

𝐉𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊

this guy has hella respect for you

you’re independent and easy to teach, and that’s everything he could ask for.

now and then, the other survivors basically gave newbies to jake to teach them everything about the realm—they considered him the expert on all things survival. you were one of those newbies he was forced to take care of.

jake normally hated teaching new survivors more than anything, because it was never his choice and they were all so difficult. but you were different. you were responsible, reliable, and smart, and it made his job so much easier. as time went on, he grew to be quite fond of you.

word eventually got out that the new girl had managed to charm jake out of his “hermit ways,” but he insisted that it was not true (he also disagreed about the “hermit ways” part). it was never spoken of between the two of you, but it definitely floated around in the air waiting to be addressed.

it really couldn’t be ignored any longer. anytime you were seen anywhere within 24 feet of each other, the other survivors would give you looks and wiggle their eyebrows or shoot you a thumbs up—all of which were unwanted. it created a weird tension between you and jake that wasn’t there before, and you really didn’t like it.

you missed when you were first starting out, and jake had just realized how competent you are. those days were fun—he respected you a lot; you could see it in his face when he looked at you. you always knew when he was pleased and when you did stuff right, because he would have the tiniest, most subtle grin on his face, but you could see it, and it made you feel accomplished.

you knew he still respected you, but you had basically jumped the learning curve of the realm and quickly adapted to every killer, every challenge, and every task. how you did it, nobody could ever know. but you were almost sad, because there was kind of no reason for you and jake to spend a lot of time together anymore. if you did, then everybody would freak out for the wrong reasons, and it would ruin your friendship.

so what if you had a few small feelings for him? no one gave a shit—you knew jake probably wouldn’t give a shit. to him, you were just another annoying survivor he was forced to teach. besides, you didn’t have time for that kind of thing.

man, were you wrong, though. he really, really wanted to be around you, but you already knew everything, so he didn’t know what to do to spend time with you. his way of initial bonding was sharing knowledge, but that had already been done, so…what now?

then came the one trial that changed everything.

it was normal at first. the killer, blight, was doing well, so you had to step up your game. one generator was completed and he had 4 hooks on three different people—you were the only one not hooked yet.

he was after you, and you were expertly dodging every rush and swing he threw your way. unfortunately, you accidentally ran to the generator that jake was working on, and things got a little complicated.

when the blight rushed at the wall, then at you, jake ran towards you while you ran towards him—you were both looking over your shoulders—and alas, bonk. you crashed into each other.

oh, no!! how terrible!! looks like jake fell on top of you :/ what an unfortunate situation to be in /s /s /s /s /s

wowwww near proximity ! you’d never been so close before and it was awkward but nice (?)

then you remembered there was a crazy drug addict or whatever over there and he was chasing you, and the moment was ruined. jake quickly rose and pulled you up with him, and you went in opposite directions, both nervous and wide-eyed now.

lol

after that, the trial went quite south. everybody was sacrificed. perhaps the loss could be partly attributed to you and jake avoiding each other like the plague. but who knows, right?

back at the campfire, you began feeling overwhelmed by all the weird stuff happening lately, so you excused yourself to the edge of the woods to have some quiet time to yourself. a few minutes later, jake came to check on you bc he is a fucking gentleman and yes i will die for the “stoic man who is actually caring and thoughtful” trope. fuck you

it’s slightly awkward at first, but then you start talking like normal and things feel a lot better. a little bit of the tension eases away, but not completely. what the fuck do you do with feelings like this?????

you simply composed yourself as best you could. it would have to do.

now that you felt a little more normal (lie), you trekked back to the campfire to wait for your next trials side-by-side. there was no one you felt more comfortable with or more respected by than jake. he appreciated you for your competency, and that was one of the best things you could ask for.

and to your surprise, jake actually took your hand and laced your fingers with his own. and it felt nice. never in your existence would you have thought he would be okay with displaying public affection, but you smiled up at him and gave his hand a light squeeze.

maybe the entity gave him drugs.

or he just liked you that much. either one would make sense.

𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐘 𝐉𝐎𝐇𝐍𝐒𝐎𝐍

danny hated you. he really did.

you were so unbothered, so calm, so good at knowing what to do. it really pissed him off.

you got so much attention from the other survivors for your skill and that really pissed him off too. it’s not like you cared or wanted it or anything, but how dare they even touch you when you so clearly belonged to danny?

…who knows wtf that even means. so anyways-

when you realized how much time danny spent chasing you in trials when he should have been patrolling generators, you began to get suspicious. especially when he would take you to the hatch and then close it in your face, watching you die to the entity. he obviously had some kind of beef with you.

you were determined to find out what he had against you, so you began to tease him a bit in chases. your favorite and most frequent phrase was something like, "can't catch me? lil baby man? lil baby? lil baby man gonna cry?" you were really testing your luck with that one, and that's why you loved it.

once, you told him his fly was down, and he actually fell for it, making you nearly keel over in laughter. you got moried without even being hooked after that.

despite the horrors that frequented this place, you were never in a crisis about it. you simply learned what had to be done, and then you did it, much to the chagrin of danny. you had skipped the big "useless baby survivor" phase, and that one was his favorite :( he loved trials with new survivors because it was so easy and fun!

but alas, from the beginning, you were always on top of things, always slamming pallets onto his head or saving teammates with a flashlight.

oh, don't even get him started on your flashlight usage. you were the absolute worst to go against--every pallet stun, boom: danny's eyes fucking burned out. every time he picks up a survivor, boom: danny's eyes fucking burned out. you were a bitch with that item.

he finally began to get so fed up with your behavior that he decided you must be taught a lesson. somehow, countless mori and tunneling and camping incidents had not even managed to bother you. you literally did not care. but he had something different in mind this time.

the realm was haddonfield, of course. all of the killers despised this map, and for good reason--you ran danny around the entire neighborhood for three generators. did he have to chase you? no. but he needed to for himself.

he finally caught you in a dead zone, rejoicing to himself as you fell to the ground in defeat. "wow, that was a good chase," you mumbled under your breath, feeling accomplished. one of your best against danny, probably.

you were expecting him to pick you up, but instead he snatched the flashlight from your grasp and chucked it as far away as he could. and before you could protest, he pulled you up to stand again and yanked you towards himself, gripping your wrists so tightly you swore it left bruises.

"what's wrong...lil baby man?" you said with a pout, trying not to laugh. "is baby man angry?"

you were slightly scared if you were being honest, but you couldn't let him know that.

danny sighed. you really didn't know when to stop, did you?

"bitch," he spat, voice dangerously quiet. "cut that shit out."

"what shit?"

he squeezed your arms tighter, provoking an "okay, okay, i get it!" from you.

"do you?"

"sure. what's the worst you could possibly do to me anyways?" after those words left your mouth, you got a weird feeling that the killer was smiling behind his mask.

"listen, uhh, danny, is it?" you said, putting as much nonchalance into your voice as you could. "i just wanna know why you hate me so much. remember that time you closed the hatch in my face? the fuck was that for?"

he frowned at the use of his name but responded regardless, "you're a little bitch, and you deserved that."

you gasped dramatically, feigning offense. "ouch. that one hurt."

"i can make you hurt a lot more," he said darkly. you probably should have been scared, but you just really couldn't take him seriously.

so you laughed. it shouldn't have been funny, but it just was and now you couldn't stop. "you're just--you--i can't--" you wheezed, shaking from the laughter. "i'm sorry, it's really not funny."

danny didn't understand you. anybody else would have been sobbing if he so much as touched them, and here you were acting like it was a joke.

what could he do if you truly were not afraid of him?

perhaps it was time to let it go.

while his guard was down, suddenly you reached above his head and plucked his mask off, revealing his face and continuing your bouts of laughter at his shocked expression.

you threw the mask in the same direction as the flashlight, composing yourself and putting your hands on your hips. "you look pretty nice," you said, nodding.

wow. what the hell was danny supposed to do with you? perhaps the only completely unbothered, completely unserious survivor? he knew you were smart, and you knew what you were doing. he didn't even want to kill you anymore, you were just that fascinating.

that trial ended in you standing at the exit gate, your finger and your thumb in the shape of an L on your forehead. danny couldn’t care less at this point--he was done with your shit. but somehow he still liked you, and this definitely would not be the last time you saw him without his mask.

#requests #fruggo writes #dead by daylight #dbd #dbd x reader #jake park x reader #jake park #danny johnson x reader #ghostface x reader #dwight fairfield #dwight fairfield x reader #dead by daylight x reader #dbd headcanons

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thefanficmonster · 4 years ago

Text

It’s Only Fair

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Swearing, Minor Spoilers for RE8: Village

Genre: FLUFF, Humor, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: It’s all fun and games while Corpse is simping over Lady Dimitrescu, seeing as how Y/N herself isn’t immune to that woman’s charms. However, things get ‘serious’ when Corpse has to deal with his girlfriend making heart eyes at the hammer wielding final lord - Heisenberg.

Requested by Anon. Hi darling! Thank you so much for this incredible request - it hit close to home, not gonna lie hehe. Thank you so much for the opportunity you gave me with this request, I had a ton of fun turning it into a fic and I hope you have at least half as much fun reading it! Love, Vy ❤

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but doesn’t Heisenberg remind you of Lucas from the seventh game? I don’t know, all this speakers communication is giving me flashbacks I’m not too fond of. That guy traumatized me.“ Y/N shudders in her seat from where she’s observing Corpse’s gameplay while keeping tabs on the speeding chat, answering as many of the comments as she can.

“No idea. Never played the game.“ Corpse wheezes out, feeling the pressure’s on and working up a little bit of a sweat seeing as how this is the last lord he’ll have to battle before probably having to square up with Mother Miranda. The fact he’s running low on ammo has been stressing him out but luckily he has Y/N there to comfort him every time. She doesn’t even need to use words to do so or even ask him what’s wrong - just placing her hand on his knee allows him to feel relaxed and as though everything will be alright even though it probably won’t be if he doesn’t collect some money, ammo or supplies for making ammo soon.

“Wooow, fake fan, huh?“ Y/N pokes his side teasingly, “No, nevermind, I know exactly why you chose to play this, skipping all the previous ones in the process.“ She prods on, continuing to mess with Corpse who gives her a side-smile after having held on a still face for such a long time, features frozen in his focused and on-edge state.

He rolls his eyes, deciding to play her game, “Oh yeah? Why do you think that is?”

She scoffs, “Maybe cause thee other games don’t have 9ft tall vampire ladies? I don’t know, I’m just shooting in the dark here.” She delivers another poke to his side, giggling devilishly as she does so.

Corpse quickly takes hold of her hand, murmuring: “Maybe...” under his breath before bringing it to his lips and giving her knuckles a kiss.

Y/N wiggles her hand free from his grasp, mock-offended by his words, “Knew it! I freaking- Whoa, hello there, sir.” She cuts herself off as the game enters into a scripted cutscene, showing off the final lord in all his glory. “Who is you?”

“Y/N, Heisenberg. Heisenberg, Y/N.” Corpse laughs, “I forgot you missed the episode where he was first introduced.”

“Damn do I regret that now.“ She whispers, eyes glued to the game instead of the screen of her laptop where she’s been fetching comments flying by. No one can blame the girl, she’s got a justified reason to be distracted. “Wish we met sooner, Mr. Heisenberg.“

Corpse finds his jaw on the floor in an instant as his head snaps to face his girlfriend, “Excuse me, what’s that supposed to mean?!”

Y/N frowns, narrowing her eyes at her boyfriend as she finally brings herself to tear her eyes off the screen where now the game has been paused. “What? You now get to complain? After I didn’t say shit about you drooling all over Lady Dimitrescu? It’s only fair I get my own simp-worthy subject, don’t you think?”

Corpse rolls his eyes, “This deal doesn’t seem like it’ll benefit you much - I get a hot, classy and rich vampire lady and you get...” he motions at the screen, his face twisting in a displeased expression, “...him.”

“Oh trust me, I’ll be perfectly benefited, don’t ya worry.“ She shoots him a wink, cackling quietly yet evilly at the shock-disappointment het comment is met with on her boyfriend’s part. “What?“ She asks though laughter, “He’s hella hot!“

“Ok, that’s it.“ Corpse gets up, pushing the desk chair Y/N’s sitting in forward, rolling it on its wheels towards the door, “You’ll be in exile until this chapter’s done with. I can’t have you simping all over the place, it’s bad for business. I mean, if you fall for guys who look like him, God knows what people will think I look like.“

“Well, you do need a shower but...“ Y/N comments through a fit of giggles, kicking her legs as to get up and off the chair but by the time she’s able to react, he’s already rolled her out in the hallway and shut the door of the recording room behind himself as though she can’t just open it and walk back in. Which is exactly what she does, much to his dismay - but she only pokes her head inside, “You’re right, it’s bad for your image, so I’ll clarify.“ She clears her throat, raising her voice as for it to be picked up by Corpse’s mic from across the room, “The two men in question don’t look at all alike, folks! Heisenberg is way hotter than Corpse!“

“OUT!“ Corpse shouts, sounding as threatening as he can while laughing his ass off alongside Y/N who has followed his ‘order‘ and stepped out in the hallway where her laughter can still be heard. “Guess the longer I don’t shower, the hotter I’ll appear to Y/N. Remind me to buy myself a cape as well. Wonder how much factories cost around the West Coast...“

“COPYCAT!“ Comes Y/N’s shout from outside the door, causing Corpse to break out in another fit of laughter.

Never did Corpse think he’d be trying to cop the ranks of a video game villain but here he is, actually googling the price of cape coats and he’s never felt more bemused with himself - ok, that may or may not be a lie considering he’s really digging the coats he finds for sale online.

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silverrstarrr · 4 years ago

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◇Headcanons of modern AU of Eren.

Warning: weed, drugs, nsfw(this comes when he hit high-school/university)

Primary school-Middle school ‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿

• Im sorry but Eren seems like the kid who was musty as hell.

• The kids around him would ask, "who's musty bro?" And then they'll sniff everyone and say its Eren. But I mean, they're only kids and they're not so big on hygiene.

• When people would accused him of being the one who's musty, he'll be so pissed off and get defensive. "what the HELL?! I'm not the one who stinks.😡" just imagine how aggressive he sounds.

• Eren later on realizes he stinks and doesn't want to be made fun- starts putting on deodorant, yk yk.

• In middle school, he was pretty popular but he didn't know it. Despite his little anger issues at times, he's really sweet and outgoing and pleaseee don't get me started on his little smileeee. Most likely girls fell for his smile.

• Most likely he used to the term "the boys 🥶❗🤙" during middle school as well 😭 Especially when like girls wanted to hang out with him or he'll tell his mom this when she wanted him to do something.

• He really liked hanging out with Mikasa and Armin. I feel as if they would go to parks and find things, bugs, watch animals etc. Mikasa would tag along as a supervisor lmao.

OKAY TIME FOR HIGH SCHOOL EREN

‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿

• During his freshman year, he was not popular at all. I feel as if he stayed with Mikasa and Armin a lot- he didn't really talk to a lot of people. Cause yk, freshman new people new things but Jean and the others(I feel like Connie and sasha would be popular for being stupid asf 😭) kinda got them popular

• Later on he gets really popular and a bunch of girls start talking to him. I feel as if he's a flirt but doesn't realize it until he sees you all flustered or smiling a lot.

• Most definitely he started smoking in his Junior year of high school.

• Eren would smoke weed, vape, hit blunts, I don't think he's the type to eat edibles a lot. But maybe there's a test, he'll pop one right before. He would do gravity bings blunts and glass bongs and he would roll his blunts himself and occasionally buy them wrapped.Most people knows he smokes. He's not the best with keeping it down-low, especially when he's smoking with Jean.

• His smoke circle? Most definitely, Jean, Connie, Reiner, Annie, and Armin. Mikasa would just be there yk.

• Eren is greedy with his weed, it depends on the person for him to share. Most likely he'll share with you ;)

• Eren most DEFINITELY flirts with you when he's high, he'll get really close to your face and would be smiling like an idiot- flattering you with compliments.

• Jean finds this annoying and would flirt with you before Eren could(just to piss him off).

• If you're a beginner, he'll purposely give you a fat ass blunt and laugh his ass while he sees you cough for 5 minutes.

• OR he'll give you an edible(that has a high dosage) and watch you complain about it not hitting. "Eren, are you sure this works? I don't rea—" bam it hits and you end up tripping up the stairs while eren is just Busting up laughing cause he's high asf too.

• Maybe you're experienced? Eren would smoke with you alllll the time. Or he'll invite you to smoke with Armin and them.

• He blows smoke in your face.

• He's the type of get horny when he smokes, so he may get touchy with you. But doesn't get any further cause, I mean PEOPLE ARE AROUND?? LOOL.

UNIVERSITY EREN.

‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿

• Still smokes. I forgot to mention this but I dont think Eren is that smart? Don't get me wrong, when he puts his mind to it- work hard, he can get things done and pretty well. But he doesn't get things right on the first try/time like Armin and Mikasa does. He'll need a little bit more explaining to.

• Some how got into the same university with the rest of the gang

• HE GOES TO PARTIESSS, LIKE PARTIESSS.

• He's not a light drinker but I feel as if he'll be too busy making out with girls than putting his lips on a red cup, drinking up.

• Most of the time, he'll approach you if he never seen you before. Or maybe he's seen you once or twice on campus and wants to slide in ykk.

• When you guys meet, most likely he's slightly high.

• You guys hit off automatically, he's just naturally charming and he's attractive.

• Maybe after when you guys get to know each other more, he'll ask to come over to your dorm.

• This can 1 or 2 ways, y'all just have fun or you guys make out and fuck.

• Half of the time when he comes over, he' smoking in your dorm. Of course he asks if he cans but you allow him to.

• As I said before, when he's high- he's hella touchy and horny. So be prepare for him coming up behind you, grabbing your waist and kissing all over your neck. Leaving small hickies here and there.

• He most definitely convinced you to get LD lights.

• Eren thinks it sets the mood and plus he likes it when he smokes(most likely they're on red duhh).

• He also plays music in the back as he's smoking in your room. It's not too loud, you guys are able to hear each other talk at least. (He'll play chill RnB, or chase Atlantic, blackbear, Brent faiyaz, Travis Scott, Don Tolliver. But I see him listening to chase Atlantic mostly. )

• Depends on if you smoke or not, Eren would make out with you with smoke in his mouth. He thinks its hot and it is

• Eren would like for you to sit on his lap, (facing him or not)

• His hand slips under your shirt and start playing with your breasts. In response you start grinding against his cock, which he'll end up moaning in your ear and BOOYYY WOULD THAT GET YOU HYPED UP.

• 9/10 you'll end up topping him because he gets needy.

• When he's coming down from his high, he wants to cuddle with you or have your fingers running through his hair. He'll get bitchy if you stop.

SORRY IF THIS IS SO LONG, I LOVE THIS MAN TOO MUCH.

‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿

Bonus:

• You know how LD lights bring in bugs right? You'll be yelling for him to kill it and he does but what he does next?😭 he'll grab a tissue clean it up the corpse and chase you around with the dead bug.

• for me, I know my ass would run and be yelling for him to stop and most likely he'll mock you: "eren stooopp"

#eren smut #eren x reader #eren jeager x reader #eren headcanons #hobo eren #eren aot #x reader #eren yeager #eren yeager x reader #eren yeager x you #headcanon #fanfic

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hoe-imaginess · 5 years ago

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vanilla | dabi

very alpha!Dabi x fem omega!Reader

summary: Dabi isn’t aware that the LoV has an omega up for grabs, not until he accidentally comes across you in heat.

word count: 11.7k

contains: dub-con elements, scent kink, humiliation, masturbation, hella dirty talk, mentions of blood/burns, Dabi being an all around bastard

a/n: commissioned by K to share part of my ABO fic. Most ABO stuff makes me squeamish so I leave out token tropes (aka knots) another private fic that I didn’t plan on posting so it’s kinda uhhhhh bad lmao. will possibly post more but idk.

DON'T let the title mislead you ok Dabi is anything but vanilla

⤰

When he found the safehouse, Dabi knocked at the front entrance.

For a long time there was no response, and he tried again, louder this time and with more exasperation.

“Coming,” he heard a shout finally, muffled across the steel door.

Dabi rubbed his eyes to put some pressure behind them, in hopes it might too take that same pressure away from the sting in his nose.

Some heady omega in the area was in heat, and a bad one; the entire neighborhood reeked of the tantalizing aroma.

He groaned, jaw tensing, and with practiced composure put the fire down in his body. He had enough of it running under his skin every second of the day in the form of his quirk. He didn’t need any more. But it was getting worse the longer he waited there with that smell tiding in the air.

He didn’t even know why he was there, doing such a chore, in the first place.

Maybe it was because this League of Villains business was a promising crusade; he’d heard good things and seen for himself some profit in the affiliation, even despite how profusely he disliked the weird hand-guy, or how awkward the black fog in a suit could be.

The other recruit, Toga—who he found as equally disagreeable as the rest—had all but blindsided him that evening as he exited the dainty bar which they called headquarters.

Could you do me a favor, Dabi? she’d entreated with an attempt at innocent, girl-like charm: a tactic which, as it usually did, failed. The manic grin on her face had only made him want to be away from her company all the sooner.

No, he’d said, and pushed past her.

But she’d skipped after him, steadfast.

Tomura had asked her to run an errand in one of the more dangerous parts of the city, she’d said, but she wasn’t sure what to do. She was just a girl, after all. Couldn’t Dabi do her this one favor and take the responsibility off her hands? She was too nervous to take a trip like that, and so late in the night.

Bullshit, he’d said, but instead of protesting in defense of herself, she’d just giggled like a lunatic, dropping her pretense.

Still, when she said it was a delivery which needed to be made to you, the only member of the League he had yet to officially meet, curiosity pinched him.

Indifferent as he was to comradery, he was undeniably interested in unearthing the particulars of this would-be villainous syndicate, which included being at least somewhat familiar with his allies. He knew you had been an original member even before he and the psycho schoolgirl came into the fold; but little else.

You needed a delivery to be made to one of the League’s safehouses? Well, maybe he could oblige, if only to snoop around. Shigaraki was particularly fastidious with the information he willfully shared, and Dabi would take any opportunity to filch information under the boss’s nose in stride.

After all, if Toga, a new—and undoubtedly incompetent—recruit was being tasked with these deliveries, why not Dabi? Why not Kurogiri, who could make the shipment with ease given his quirk?

What was going on behind the scenes that Dabi wasn’t seeing?

Underwhelming as his first task as a newcomer would be, he saw it as an opportunity. He could be a good and useful asset to the League just for the night, he’d decided, when he told Toga he would do it. He was headed to that side of town anyways, he’d said.

So there he found himself, his foot tapping impatiently on the ground as he waited outside the safehouse.

That goddamn scent that wafted around the building... Why did he feel as though he’d smelled it before? And why did it smell so… sickeningly sweet?

He tried to distract himself by musing over what might have solicited these late-night deliveries, for example: what was in this suitcase he was meant to give you.

Toga had handed it to him with such a twisted, giddy smile on her face that he was half-convinced it was a bomb ready to blow and scatter him into pieces for her sick delight. Once he’d found it locked, he’d given up on guessing the contents after he shook the thing and the rattling inside gave no indication of the secrets it held.

More distraction, he entreated himself.

He thought of the itch of his staples, the uncomfortable tingle on his ridged skin when the air brought heavy wind against it. He thought of anything that might take away from the smell of raw heat in the area, but it was an instinctual pull that left him fidgeting where he stood.

He was about ready to leave the suitcase at the door and hit the road, when there was a commotion from across the threshold.

The aroma that burst from the opening door completely smothered him, made every bone in his body feel like smoldering steel; made lightning shoot down his veins and a low breath catch in his lungs.

You blanked when you saw him there, your pupils blowing wide with shock, then, if he read it correctly, fear.

He sniffed hard, his body scrambling for a source to the scent that begged his alpha inclinations to go wild. The inhalation sent pinpricks of warmth down to his feet. The smell was overwhelming now, almost dizzying.

And it was coming from you.

“Fuck,” he spat, and covered his nose with his arm, backing away from the door.

You slammed it shut, your heart racing.

“What are you doing here?!” you demanded.

“Came to give you this goddamn shit,” he snapped, throwing the suitcase at the door. It landed with a violent thud. His limbs jerked with frayed nerves, like the sun was heating his skin and crawling down to his center. “Are you an idiot!? You know I’m an—”

“I do that’s why I wanted Toga to bring it—”

“She had me do it,” he shouted, and backed himself against the opposite alley wall, a hand clenching and unclenching against his clothed thigh.

Goddamn your smell. Goddamn it. Like vanilla. Horribly sweet. So fucking potent.

He threw his head back against the wall, ignoring the throbbing pain it kneaded into his skull, and breathed hard.

He wanted to bust down the door. His legs twitched at the impulse; fingers tensed and flames licked their tips.

It would be easy. Kick it down. Burn it down. Burn the whole goddamn place down if need be. He wanted to force his way in, wanted to claw at your clothes and shove himself inside you—

Instead he took another deep breath, and loosed it on a shaky sigh.

He’d handled omega heats before, why was he like this now? Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. This was too much.

“You need to leave,” you muttered from the other side of the door, so resolute and aggrieved that he would have never guessed you were keeled over on the floor, legs shut tight and body shivering. His alpha smell was nauseating you; it was strong and dominating and demanding that you open yourself to him. “Now.”

“Yeah I’m goin',” he snapped angrily, storming off down the alley once his legs restored their loyalty to his head, and not what was between his legs. “Fuck."

⤰

Dabi stroked himself hard and fast and rough, nose pressed into his sleeve, breathing in the sweet tang of vanilla that lingered between the fibers.

He growled out his next breath, and it sputtered off into a wobbly sigh as he closed his eyes and thought of you: those perfect tits he was sure you were hiding under your clothes; your ass, which would look like nice, he knew, with his handprints burned onto the skin; and then your cunt—fuck, he could almost imagine how tight it was, how hotly it would grip him and milk every last fucking drop of his cum—the mere vision of it pink and twitching and spread out for him was like an explosive punch to his gut.

He came in thick, hot spurts, some rolling over his knuckles as he quickly twisted his fist over the cockhead, others staining the brick wall in front of him with ropey, white streaks.

“Fuck,” he panted, chest heaving, limbs trembling. A hand shot to the wall and braced himself there for balance, kept him upright while his quivering knees threatened to fail him.

When was the last time he’d even had to rub one out like this? In a dirty fucking alley? And least of all because of some stupid omega?

Goddamn you, he thought.

⤰

“Dabi!” Toga squealed when he returned to the bar later in the morning. She sniffed the air, breathed in his smokey scent, and flashed a hungry smile, tongue dipping out to wet her eager lips. “You smell so strong. Are you worked up?” Then her eyes were bright and thrilled. “Oh? Oh?! Did you see _____-chan? Did you?"

“Yeah, you crazy idiot.” Dabi slammed the bar door shut behind him. "You just forget to mention that she was in heat?”

Shigaraki, who’d been previously uninterested in the debacle, now looked up from his game. “What?”

Toga giggled. “Oh yeah, I forgot about that. Did you smell her? Oh, it’s so nice, isn’t it?” The girl’s eyes twitched and rolled back loftily in ravenous remembrance. “_____-chan smells so sweet. So sweet—”

“You caught her in heat?” Shigaraki asked, accusative but curious. “Are you stupid?"

Scowling, Dabi jerked a thumb at Toga. “Dipshit over here had me take some stuff over to that safehouse you got. I didn’t fuckin’ know."

“You dumb girl,” Shigaraki snapped, turning on her now. “Are you brain dead? Or do you really not get why omegas hide from alphas during heats? Why do you think we have a beta like you go do deliveries now?”

“I know what happens!” she contended. “I thought she could use some company. She smells so delicious. Was it fun, Dabi? Was it fun and romantic and—”

“Try infuriating,” Dabi spat, then set his anger on Shigaraki. “You’re no better. Either of you.” He nodded his head at Kurogiri behind the bar. “Would’ve been nice to know you had an unmated omega in your group.”

“Thought you’d noticed by now,” Shigaraki replied, now somewhat subdued, and tending to his game again. “What, your nose doesn’t work?”

“It works fuckin’ fine. Just didn’t realize that scent you got around here all the time was hers.”

In recollection, he put his sleeve over his nose. The sweet smell had vanished, but the memory of it still haunted his senses, made every nerve in his body flutter with excitement. It was driving him fucking insane.

“How the hell do you two work with an omega?” Dabi asked. “That gets heats like that, no less.”

“We’re not animals,” the leader replied. “Some of us can handle it.”

“My ass. Guessin’ that’s the reason she’s never around, huh? You don’t seem very disciplined. Bet you catch one whiff of that slick and go completely ape shit.”

Shigaraki scowled, affronted.

“It was our mistake not warning you,” Kurogiri conciliated the blame, clearly nervous, and possibly displeased by the crass talk. “We were under the impression that you knew. We’ve taken steps to lessen the risk in our years together. We are somewhat… desensitized.”

“Good for you,” Dabi muttered. “I ain’t. A heads up would’ve been nice.”

“Now you know,” Shigaraki said, scratching peevishly at his neck. “Stop complaining. You’ll get used to it.”

Dabi tsked. “Yeah, you better hope I do.” Then he stalked off.

“Did you do that on purpose?” Shigaraki asked Toga once the other alpha had departed.

Toga keened happily, still enamored with Dabi’s untamed scent. Alphas were so delicious when worked up.

“I forgot,” she insisted dreamily. “Honest, I did.”

“That was a very risky mistake,” Kurogiri was saying, black vapors flitting nervously about his frame. “As a beta, you may not be aware of the risks that both alphas and omegas face when it comes to positions of power–”

Toga pouted and whined, like a child whose gleeful imagination had been thwarted. “I don’t get it. I was just doing them both a favor. Alphas are supposed to take of omegas in heat, aren’t they? What’s the big deal?” She had a stupid smile on her face again, rapt with thoughts of desire. “It must be so nice as an alpha, getting to take any little omega you want… they’re so needy.”

“The big deal, you damn idiot,” Shigaraki started, “is that a guy like that is too selfish to put our objectives before his prick. There’s a reason we don’t mess with that heat and rutting crap here. Complicates things. Makes everyone go crazy. Like you.”

She tittered like a lunatic, proud of her indignity. “She smells so good, Tomura. It’s not fair. Not fair at all.”

⤰

After your heat, once you’d returned to the bar, you ignored Dabi to the best of your ability.

At first, he seemed content enough to reciprocate the caution. You both treaded carefully: any eye-contact made would be swiftly curtailed with averted gazes; you cleared a room whenever he entered, and vice versa, he acted as though you were invisible to him.

It would be fine, you’d told yourself. You’d dealt with the ugly dynamics your omega lifestyle wrought countless times. You could do it again. Dabi was a new recruit, after all. Promising—albeit coarse—according to Tomura. His contribution to the team far outweighed the plights of your personal struggles. You would be fine. It would be fine.

But those lofty self-reassurances were short-lived.

You were sitting in one of the bar’s empty rooms when he sought you out. You smelled him before he rounded the corner, and fear gripped you when the alpha bouquet invaded your senses. But then something else came to seek your submission: an instinctual calling on the wisps of his scent, bringing an anxious and conflicting nostalgia back to you.

God his smell had followed you for days: a smokey aroma, but something so fresh underneath it, like cold mint. You’d never been so enthralled by a scent before, never been so tempted to give in to carnal desire and offer yourself to a being nature had designated as your superior: an alpha.

He stood in the doorway of the room, just looking at you; you stared back, frozen, and made yourself small in hopes that you might avoid whatever confrontation was to come.

“Your heats always that stupidly strong?” he asked.

You blanched and took a deep breath to quell your unease. You wished to anything that the world would swallow you and take you away from what was undoubtedly going to be one of the worst, most uncomfortable confrontations of your life.

“Yes,” you said. “That’s why I have to go away.”

“Why? I mean, most omegas do it. Usually to work it out themselves, right? Bet that little delivery I made was a bunch of toys, wasn’t it?”

“No,” you said, feeling embarrassed by the mere speculation. “It was a suppressant. They don’t usually work on me... I’m trying to find the right one.”

The broad smirk that shifted his scarring tissue made you shift uncomfortably. “Suppressants are useless if your heat is too strong. That shit was bad. The smell is ridiculous. You clearly ain't doing somethin' right if it’s always that potent.”

You shivered at the mention of your scent. It was always what they mentioned—the alphas. They always raved about your scent: like sweet candy, some said. Most often, vanilla. The sniff of it on your very nose was nauseating after so long: an inescapable quality that put you in the crosshairs of nearly every alpha you’d met, made you frightfully easy prey to their predator.

“I’ve...” Shit, should you be sharing this with him? Normally you did, with most alphas you were acquainted with. Especially those you trusted. But you didn’t trust him. You barely knew him. “I’ve never... been rutted properly. So, they’re stronger. The heats.”

“Never been rutted through a heat?” he asked, scoffing. “Sounds miserable. You’re all backed up, aren’t ya? That’s why you struggle with your scent so much.”

You were quiet. You met his interrogation more confidently than you previously thought possible, given how successfully he’d intimidated you up until now. But your fear was draining away slowly, giving way to some sense of adeptness.

Memories of his scent had haunted your every bodily cell since the moment you’d first experienced it. Although facing it again now was overwhelming, you’d steeled yourself since then.

It would be okay, you reminded yourself. Conferring with allied alphas was only a necessary tack if you were going to keep the peace.

“I have, obviously,” you answered. “I’ve been rutted through a heat. But, it’s not the same if it’s not with… well—”

“An alpha?” he finished, and couldn’t help the surprise on his face. “You’ve never been with an alpha in your heat?”

You shook your head. And then there it was, the returning frailty so thick that it seized the room. Why were you so humiliated to speak your truths? They were truths, after all, under his harsh gaze or not.

“…I’ve never been with an alpha at all.”

He actually laughed. “Nah. You’re lying.”

“I’m not.”

“Never even fooled around a bit?”

“No."

A wry, callous grin stretched his staples. He tilted his head and hummed curiously. “You afraid? Of alphas?”

“No.”

“Yeah, you are.”

“I’m not.”

“Omegas are normally dyin’ to get laid when they’re in heat. Especially when they’re surrounded by alphas they actually know, like you are. Would be one thing if you were locking yourself up to hide from strangers, but you’re not. Gross as that hand-guy is, he seems like he’d rut for ya."

“I just don’t... want it.”

“Nah. You’re scared. I can tell. Should’ve seen that look on your face the other day, damn near terrified—like I was gonna jump on you any second.”

You bristled with agitation, frustration invited back in full bloom now that your confidence was weakened. “Sorry if I don’t trust you,” you returned with grim sarcasm. “You’re not very… decent, to put it plainly.”

“Decent? Nah, I’m not. Alphas aren’t supposed to be. But that’s why you’re all nervous, right?”

“I don’t…” You shook your head, thoughts tripping over one another. “My quirk makes it difficult,” you admitted, and bit your tongue shortly afterwards.

”Your quirk?”

You swore it was his pheromones making you talk, clouding your judgment and wringing admissions from you. “Alphas and omegas dealing with ruts or heats… it compromises their quirks sometimes, I’m sure you know. Makes them uncontrollable and disorderly. I don’t want that to happen to me. Heats are bad enough on their own. Actually getting rutted through one…” You shrugged, vulnerable to be sharing your fears. “I don’t know. I heard it can go wrong. It would be too much.”

“Oh.” He snickered. “Afraid you’re gonna get too horny and flip out or something?”

Heat primed your cheeks in a blush. “No. I mean… In a way. But, thats not what I really meant–”

“So you just run away whenever you’re in heat? ‘Cause you don’t know how to handle it? That’s sad. Bet you wouldn’t be such a stuck up mess if you just let someone rut you through it, at least once. That’s what you’re supposed to do. Forget suppressants. Not just that,” he snickered, and smirked slyly, “it’s awfully unfair of you to be such a prude when you’ve got a bunch of alphas around."

You shivered, not simply noticing, but feeling his eyes pore over you. “They’re not interested.”

“Fuck that. Don’t know if you heard sweetheart, but omegas are made for us to fuck and breed.”

“No,” you said, almost indignantly, “they aren’t.” To be reduced to something so primitive and incidental put anger in your veins. It was a sore, but inevitable topic you were unfortunate to suffer so often.

“Yeah. They are. Don’t know how that hand-creep hasn’t tried to jump your bones yet. I sure as shit would have, by now.”

Then, considering his words, he made a curious frown. “Unless you hide to keep away from that guy.” As he thought of these depraved illustrations in his head, put pieces of his own mused puzzle together, the grim smile returned. “Yeah. I can see that. Putting your own sanity on the line because you don’t wanna provoke your boss. You’d rather scurry off than deal with that guy. You really are scared of alphas, huh?”

“No,” you spat. “Tomura is…“ God, you hated this, hated how his smell was driving you crazy, making you pliant. “Tomura doesn’t need distractions. He’s not very… well-equipped to handle these sort of things.”

You wouldn’t mention how the visual of Tomura’s hands gripping you with alpha-driven need, unwittingly cursing your skin with his quirk, obliging your flesh to break away under his clutches and slowly split you open was a terror that kept you awake some nights.

“I stay out of the way for both our sakes,” you said, shaking the fearsome thoughts away. “Everything works out fine the way it is. We want it this way. We know how to focus on our mission and that only."

He shrugged, unconvinced. “Sure, gotta keep the peace or whatever. Don’t wanna turn the League into a rut fest. Puttin’ the greater good over their alpha needs, over what’s in their pants."

You frowned at him, displeased with the vulgarity.

He snickered to see it. “Commendable of them and all that. But…” He pushed from the wall he’d leaned against and came towards you. You inched away, heart beating fast at the sudden approach. “I’m a little more radical about this stuff, I guess you could say. I think you’d be much more useful if you weren’t so pent up.”

When he crouched down in front of you, you backed into the wall that you sat against, but there was no room for escape. He wasn’t smiling now, only perusing you with expressionless intensity. You tried to suppress a shiver when his eyes rolled down your body.

“Never really been all that concerned with this sort of stuff, not gonna lie. I’ll rut when I need to. Otherwise shit starts getting complicated and I can’t think straight.” He shrugged. “But in case you haven’t noticed, my body ain’t all that suited for frantic ruts. I try to take it easy, if possible. But… I always thought it was a little dumb that we’re engineered to think with what’s between our legs, most of the time.”

And so saying, his warm had slid between your partially opened thighs, which shivered at his touch and clamped together quickly to deny him.

But he wasn’t deterred, and shoved against the resistance, slipping the invading hand under your skirt.

“Stop,” you demanded, breath automating into nervous pants. In sudden fear of being happened upon by the others, you glanced around feverishly, your feet shuffling on the ground to push you back against the wall.

“Stop, now.” Your hands were on his arm, trying to push him away. “Dabi,” you insisted, trying to sound firm. But it did little to deter him.

“See? Bet if you weren’t so damn skittish you’d be putting up a real fight.” His hand finally broke through the tight resistance of your thighs, and his fingers pressed against your underwear. They were damp to the touch.

He laughed, and stroked over the wetness with his knuckle, making you keen and try to pull away.

“Ridiculous,” he muttered, looking down between your trembling thighs. “Unless you were playing with yourself before I got here, I’m guessin’ this is because of me?”

He took the wet fabric between his two fingers and rubbed together. “And what’d I do for you to get like this? You’re not even in heat. And I’ve barely got a scent on me right now. We’re just talking, ______. You really that hot for me, sweetheart?”

At the sound of your name coming from his mouth, gravelly and low, you shuddered, and put an arm over your mouth to keep in a stammering moan. But his other hand came and pulled the limb away.

“Please,” you stuttered out. “Stop.”

“Am I the first alpha who’s touched you like this?” he asked, ignoring your plea.

Your thighs tightened around him again, and one of your hands went to his collar, squeezing into it in meager resistance.

That too he ignored, and looked at you with plain impatience. “Am I?”

You whimpered and nodded, unable to form words when your lips were stuck harshly bitten between your teeth.

“Yeah, thought so.”

Then his thumb worked its cruel intentions and circled your clit. The pathetic gasp he received in turn made him chuckle.

“Nah. See, this isn’t supposed to happen.” His thumb pressed harder and your head knocked back against the wall. “I’ve seen some pretty slutty omegas, but this is plain stupid.”

“I’m—” You practically hiccuped through a whine, and squeezed your eyes shut, your quirk threatening to reveal itself, answering the calls of your panic and ready to defend against his assault. “I’m not a slut—”

He brushed up on your clit hard and you whimpered, defense all but surmounted.

“Okay, fine. You’re not a slut. You’re just damn sensitive because you’ve never given your body what it needs.” He grinned his wicked grin. “An alpha.”

You shook your head. “No—”

“Yes.”

You shook it vigorously now, and your hands came back to life, pushing at him. “No.”

“Yes, _____,” he breathed, laughing. “I thought you were supposed to be smart. Alpha, omega, whatever—those instincts make your brain all mushy if you don’t get it under control. You’ve got some dissonance going on in your head. You’re really letting yourself go because of it. You wanna be a good ally for your boss, but you can’t, because you’re too scared to—"

“I’m not,” you insisted, eyes wrenching themselves open to look at him. He was amused, depravedly amused, but still remarkably composed for how ruthlessly he was teasing you. “I just don’t want it–”

He snorted loudly, and you were sure the sound would echo and bring someone upon the spectacle. “You don’t want it? Seriously? Now you’re just in denial.”

His fingers coiled around your panties and shoved against your bare skin; your pussy was wet and warm to the touch.

“I can smell your slick, holy fuck,” he muttered. For the first time, though everything up until this point had been cruelly entertaining but not entirely stimulating, he felt his cock twitch, and his mouth water. He hummed. “Bet you taste like vanilla, too, don’t you?”

“St-stop,” you stuttered, face going hot with embarrassment, hiding it against your shoulder as if it would help mitigate the fluster.

He let go of the arm he’d been restraining, put a hand on your knee, and tried to push your legs open. He was surprised when met with resistance; you kept your thighs locked together like a vice, making it substantially more difficult to move his fingers on your clit the way he wanted.

He scoffed.

“Open your legs,” he demanded of you, and felt your body twitch at the command.

He looked at you, and was pleased to find you staring back, wide-eyed and jolted. His blue eyes narrowed autocratically.

He spoke his command slower, but with more authority, “Open them. Now."

And when you did, he let out a breathy laugh of satisfaction, and admired the mess of wetness between your thighs. “See? See how easy that was?”

One hand gripped the soft flesh of your thigh—shit, the skin was practically begging for his teeth to sink in, to make you bleed, to mark you—while the occupied continued its ministrations, fingers jerking quickly over your pink clit.

"What if I were some enemy tryin’ to get some information out of you, huh? You’d probably spill everything about the League to another alpha the second he gave your pussy any attention. Shit,” he laughed, head cocking curiously as he played with the folds of your cunt, “I’m just teasin' you a little and you’re already dripping, for one. For two, following my every command like a good little whore.”

You shook your head, wordless in your denial. You thought you could taste blood in your mouth from your own lips, teeth digging in harshly to give your body any sensation to distract from the burgeoning pleasure. Your nerves were trampling over one another, all of them somehow alight with fire, but numb all the same.

“Imagine what I, or any other alpha, really, could get you to do with a cock inside you. Ever think of that? And if you were in heat?” He scoffed. “Forget it. You’re pretty much a liability at this point. Don’t know why the hell your boss keeps you around. It’s pathetic.”

Bracing both hands on his shoulders, you loosed a strangled moan of frustration, fingers biting into his clothes, pressing against the lean muscle beneath. He didn’t seem to care, too focused on the pink, twitching flesh now turning red from his fingers' abuse. He swiped his pointer and middle across your clit in a dizzying pace, until the tendons in his wrists burned and his knuckles ached. But your scent… fuck, the fucking scent—

He prided himself on his practiced fortitude against alpha instincts; his body, wracked by the toll of his quirk, was vulnerable as it was. Willpower was necessary to stave off the feral hunger that often made him forget his own fragility and indulge the fierceness of ruts and heats. It always ended with loose staples and bloody rivulets along his skin. Self-aware as he was of his own limitations, he so rarely let himself indulge his body’s desires.

But fuck if you weren’t testing him.

You were close, you knew, your body spasming and breath catching in every interval. You panicked, tried to fight it, but it was as though his fingers had caged your volition somewhere in the back of your mind, and instead propagated all senses to pleasure.

“Fucking tease,” he muttered under his breath, but you barely heard him above the frenzied din in your brain.

Just as you felt something in you stirring irrevocably, both his hands left you, and he stood to his feet.

You nearly toppled over, and spilt over yourself awkwardly to try and catch yourself on the ground. The wet slide between your thighs was horribly palpable, and horribly embarrassing.

You panted as you gathered yourself, looking up at him in flustered awe as you shut your thighs and protectively shoved your skirt back into place.

He was admiring his fingers, the wetness coating them, and when he noticed your gaze, waved them at you teasingly. “See this?”

So wet, you thought, humiliated, as a sticky strand started to spill from his finger. You shivered, your face sweltering and flushed.

“This is your body’s way of telling you that it’s beggin’ to be filled.”

You shuddered, and held yourself miserably, trying to fight the unsatisfied heat in your veins with calming breaths. “You’re horrible,” you whispered, your mouth dry.

“Nah. I’m being a nice guy. The only smart one around here, too, looks like.”

He licked at his fingers, a shudder going down his spine when he tasted the sweetness. It was unreal. “This is ridiculous. You wouldn’t have to worry so much about scurrying away from alphas if your smell wasn’t so strong. If you’re heat wasn’t so strong. And none of it would be, if you just did what you were made to do. You’re repressed. Backed up as hell—”

“I wasn’t made to do anything,” you argued, frustration returning.

“You can keep sayin’ it, but it doesn’t make it any less true. You’re more trouble than you’re worth, honestly. Got everyone jumpin’ through hoops for you because you’re so damn sensitive. I ain’t gonna do that.”

You sat there in a heap, fidgeting uncomfortably and fighting for any sense of self-determination you could. He’d said his scent was scant, but you swore it was filling the room, pulping your thoughts and dizzying your nauseous head.

“Clearly you’ve been stuck with some pretty underwhelming alphas until now,” he said. “So I’m gonna do you a favor. Next time you’re in heat, find me, and I’ll do something about it.”

He wiped his dirtied fingers on his shirt, then left you there.

⤰

A month later, Dabi got a call.

“What?” he answered curtly, thinking it was Shigaraki from a burner number. The boss did that sometimes, despite there being little need for throwaways. It was theatrical and annoying.

“It’s me.”

After a pause of non-recognition, you sighed, “It’s ______.”

“Oh?” You could hear the smile in his voice.

In the alley, Dabi admired the burning body he’d just finished off, the corpse kindling his blue flames nicely as it crumbled to ash.

He laughed lowly. “Yeah. Been about a month, hasn’t it. You had some time to think sweetheart?”

From the other end, you bit your lip. “I have rules.”

Something seeped into his blood and swelled within him. Like a breeze carried from somewhere far off, he got a whiff of your sweet scent, just a ghost of it, and licked his lips.

“Seems a little over the top,” he said. “But I’m listening.”

There was a sound in the alley behind him, and he glanced over his shoulder.

You took a deep breath on the other end, nervously playing with the hem of your shirt. “I’ll be at a different place tonight. Another safehouse, down by the docks. The first rule is that when you get here, you have to—”

Dabi heard the cocking of a gun. The disdainful comrade of the dead, scorched man had the weapon raised and trained on him, spouting some threatening nonsense of vengeance. The flame-wielder huffed in annoyance.

“Can’t really talk right now,” he spoke into the receiver, his hands brightening with his quirk. “I’ll find the place. Better not get cold feet.”

“Dabi—”

But he hung up before you could say more.

⤰

You waited for the better half of the evening shot to pieces with doubt.

You’d gone over the situation a dozen times, and twice that number decided the uncontrollable confusions weren’t worth second-guessing; dictating right and wrong left you light-headed when your body was already a frenzied playground of sensation thanks to your heat.

You started to text him the address when midnight rolled around, just in case he’d gotten lost—then thought better of it. The uncertain doublet came again: You couldn’t do this. It was dangerous. You hadn’t witnessed Dabi’s brutality firsthand, but the hearsay was worrisome enough. He would break you. It would end horribly. Your quirk, or even his, would lash out—

Then the other half of the fretful analysis: Yes. You could do this. It was natural. It was true what he’d said, about you neglecting your body’s desires, and in turn leaving room only for self-sabotage. The thought of him drove you wild with uncertainty, but so did the notion of not doing this; your body was raging at the absence of touch. One which he was apparently willing to give.

Finally you called him, nerves scattered and patience thinned, deciding that whatever he had to say to you on the other line would determine whether or not you should carry on with your plans.

Almost as soon as you heard the ringing from the other line, so too did a chirpy noise come from right outside the safehouse door: a phone.

You blanched. Before you could make toward the door, the metal lever twisted with a creak and opened. He was there on the other side with his phone in hand, and lifted it teasingly when his eyes found you in the dim room.

“If you’re callin’ to give me directions, waste of time,” he said as he slunk inside. “I can smell you across the damn street.”

You shivered, smelling him, too: he radiated a warm scent, then that icy undertone which always perplexed you in the most enticing way.

He shut the door behind him, locked it, and inspected you. He huffed in amusement to see how nervous you were.

“You said you had some rules,” he started, coming towards you. Your heart started skipping. “Sounds like a lot of bullshit, so I wasn’t gonna remind you. But I guess if it’ll stop you from chickening out halfway…”

His hands were on you in an instant, at your sides, squeezing and kneading the flesh underneath your shirt. You froze. The dumbfounded look on your face had him smirking.

“Not that you’ll be able to once I get started,” he went on. “Or even want to. Probably gonna forget you even had rules once I stick it in you.”

The hands went down, gripped your ass, and brought your bodies together. You braced yourself against his forearms, stuttering when he wasted no time and pressed his face into your jaw, licking, kissing, teasing you with teeth.

Your eyes fluttered closed, mouth hanging open as he traveled down. At his touch, your mind slowed to blind submission. The excitement was stroking a fire in you that you hadn’t even known was there.

Fuck, it was too much. Already, too much.

“You gonna tell me?” he asked between kisses. "Or you already forgot?”

As he moved to your neck, he inhaled sharply through his nose. The sweet scent stirred a frenzy in his gut.

“Fuck.” The hands at your ass squeezed so hard that you gasped. “Goddamn girl,” he laughed breathily, grinding against you. “That shit’s good.”

“I—" You choked on your next words when he spread your thighs apart from behind, fingers curling under your skirt to feel for your panties. “The rules, I—”

“You better spit it out,” he warned, coming up to look at you, eyes fixed with hunger. “I’m not a patient guy. I’m really gonna pounce on you in a second if you don’t get on with it.”

It struck apprehension into you. You breathed out the words hurriedly, “Don’t mate me. Don’t give me a mating mark—”

He laughed in your face, making you blush, then went back to kissing at your neck.

“Didn’t plan on it. Don’t want a mate. Probably never will.” He kissed hard at your neck, breathed in your scent again with a hum. “Besides, even if I did, you’re not bad looking and I know your cunt’s gonna be nice and tight, but you’re not worth mating. You’re high-strung. It’s annoying.”

You bristled with anger, but his warmth was making every other sense dull to you. When his teeth teased the skin at your shoulder, you were wrangled back to focus.

“No marks,” you warned, just as his teeth sank in, and nudged away gently to dissuade him. “Don’t leave any. Kurogiri and Tomura can’t see–”

“I don’t give a fuck who sees,” he replied harshly, coming up to look at you. “Who cares? They were dumb enough to leave you unmated and practically dyin’ for a fuck, so forget them. I’m doing you a favor here, remember that. You can have some rules, but I’m doing whatever the hell I need to do.”

His fingers rubbed hard at your panties; they were wet to the touch. "Not like you’re gonna run out now. You’re fucking soaked.” With a pleased growl he went to your neck again, biting hard.

You squealed, but before he could start sucking at the skin, you reeled back and moved away from him. You pushed at his forehead with a hand, and he smacked it away.

“Then no,” you sighed out shakily once you’d gotten his attention. "We’re done here.”

You spoke it with such confidence that it actually earned you his consideration. He stared at you, half-impressed, but mostly, furious.

“If you can’t listen to me,” you muttered, braving his piercing eyes willingly, "then… then fuck off.”

He was scowling at you now, and without warning his fingers pinched your clit.

You gasped sharply and raggedly at the feeling, melting into his touch with weak legs. He had to hold you upright to prevent you from collapsing, and against your ear, he huffed angrily.

“That’s what I fucking thought, stupid slut.”

He shoved you down onto the mattress at your feet.

You were too dizzy to make a protest when he climbed over you, and had no voice on which to loose it when he ripped—literally ripped—your shirt apart and attacked your chest with harsh bites and licks. Your nipples got the worst of it: he went for them with a growl in his throat, claiming the peaks between his teeth, biting down so hard you squealed and kicked.

“You really don’t have a goddamn clue how this works, do you?” he was breathing out harshly. “What an alpha does to an omega?” He looked up at you. Your eyes were watery and trembling as they gawked down at him. “What I can do to you?”

His lips went down, and he shoved your skirt off of your legs, the panties going too. You had enough sense in you to shut your thighs, which made him scoff, and yank them apart painfully.

“Don’t you fuckin’ try it. This is mine right now. You and your little cunt, mine. Like it’s supposed to be.”

He knew even as the words came from his mouth like venom, that your scent, coupled with his long-unreleased pheromones, were pushing him to a point of brutality. He’d never been so prone to complete and utter dominance like this. And now looking between your thighs at the pink, swollen, shaven pussy twitching for him, he knew there was no chance you’d be getting any mercy.

“Look at this shit,” he muttered, dropping to his knees, and as a protest died on your lips, his own pressed against your wetness, breathing in your scent as he did, growling loud and wildly in his throat.

His hands went to your thighs and pulled, bringing you closer against him, ignoring the fingers in his hair that feebly tugged. A shaky whimper came on every one of your breaths, your mouth sputtering through frail pleas he didn’t understand and didn’t bother trying to.

He indulged one harsh, long, angry suck on your clit, and released with a wet smack. You cried, actually cried when he went back in and dug his tongue harshly against you.

“Dabi, Dabi—no, please–”

Your scent made him light-headed, made him forget for a split second where he was, made him forget the constant and residual pain from his quirk, the itch of his staples—made him forget it all.

You came on his tongue without warning, a loud screech dying in your throat as you arched off the mattress. He was too shocked to lick up the sweet cum that received him. His eyes shot open and he looked up at you; you were an absolute wreck: flushed, sweating, shaking, and seized with pleasure.

He tried to count in his head. How long had it been? A minute? Barely? Fucking ridiculous.

He sucked and sucked until you were writhing. He wanted to punish you, wanted you to see how fucking weak you were, how badly you needed this.

“Dabi—” you sobbed out, tears itching your eyes and rushing down your face.

He pulled off finally with a loud breath, smacking his lips, then went back down to lick up your pussy one more time to clean you with his tongue. You jerked and twisted miserably. Then he was climbing over you again, forcing you to face him.

“You see?” he panted. "See what I just did to you? See how fuckin’ quick you were to cum for me? That’s what you’ve been missing. You’re not in the position to be making demands or rules here, _____. This is what you deserve. This is what you need. You need an alpha, you need me, you need this—”

He took your hand and forced it to rub between his legs. You stuttered a pitiful breath when you felt the bulge there, so hot, so inhumanly hot, waiting for you. Under your touch it twitched, greedy to be inside you.

You shook your head, unable to keep your eyes open; the blinding pleasure made a transit to numbing warmth, and your lids were heavy with drowsiness.

Your lip trembled. “Please, I need a minute, please—"

“No. Fuck no.”

He shred his clothes quickly, pulling his jacket off, kicking his shoes off, clawing at his belt and throwing that off too—but getting no further than shoving his pants down his hips so his eager cock could spring free. He didn’t have the time for anything else. He didn’t have the fucking time.

“I was gonna go easy on you,” he muttered. "Just a little."

Manhandling you to a spread position beneath him, he was almost ready to shove into you—then he had an exhilarating idea, and flipped you over, slapping your ass hard and making you yell in surprise. He wanted to take you like this: dominating, and utterly primal.

He forced your hips up, ass out, pussy spreading for him. He took his cock, flicked the head mercilessly against your clit until you were keening. A firm hand on your hip prevented you from squirming away.

“Please,” you sobbed again, gasping, body trembling. The heat. The heat. It was too much. Your skin crawled with euphoric pinpricks of fire. You needed it. You needed it. “Please, Dabi—”

“Please what?” he snapped, fire in his veins, vanilla flooding his head. “There’s no way in hell you want me to stop, so you’re beggin’ me for more. Use your words then. Say it.”

Your shook your head, mouth dry and gaping. “I can’t—”

He smacked your ass again and you jolted, unable to stop from curling into yourself as you orgasmed; the scent of your slick invaded his nose and he realized what you’d done. A dangerous, slow, ragged laugh bubbled from his throat.

“My god you’re so fucking pathetic. Look at that.” He kneaded his hand hard into your ass, pulling and stretching the skin, keeping your pussy fleshed out for him. “Look at this shit. It’s dripping. I want you to admit how pathetic you are.” He started to jerk himself hard, precum spilling over his fingers in messy streams. “Say it.”

You shook your head, pressing it hard into the mattress below. His hand went for your hair, yanked it backwards, and a tight yell tore out of your throat.

“Say it right now or you’re not getting my dick. I can shove it in your throat and get off just fine.” Oh, but how fucking badly he needed to put it in your cunt... “Say it. Say you’re pathetic, and that you need an alpha cock. Say it.”

“Dabi, please—“ Your hips arched upwards, begging, completely overrun with need. He shoved you back down, dismantling your sanity with every second went without feeling him inside of you.

“Say it now or I swear I’m gonna leave you here, _____.” He yanked your hair tighter, his hand flying on his cock. Everything felt so good. Too good. Too fucking hazy. “I’m gonna use your mouth or these tits to get off, and then I’m gonna leave you here, dripping and fucking pathetic and alone. Alone in your heat like you always are, you stupid whore.”

The thought made you whimper despairingly; in turn, he groaned loudly as he worked precum out in rapid strokes.

“Say it. Now. Now.”

“I’m—” Needy sobs wracked your voice, your hands clutching the mattress. “I’m a—I’m pathetic, I’m pathetic—”

“Fuck,“ he moaned loud and heavy, pinching the base of his cock to hold off release, then going back to stroking again, unable to go without stimulus. “What else? What else, _____?”

“I’m pathetic and I need your cock!” you cried out, too desperate for pride, too desperate for anything else. “I need an alpha cock, I need it—Dabi, damn it, please!—”

You practically screamed when he rammed into you, a loud shout tensing out of him as he let go of your hair. He put both hands at your hips to hold you in place for his violent thrusts.

Your mouth was open in vacant stupor, eyes rolling, feeling another orgasm ripping through you almost instantaneously.

“Fuck… fuck,” he breathed, feeling you tighten around him. He growled angrily, biting his lip until the burnt, abused skin swelled and bled. “You fucking—fuck—” Your slickness was in such abundance that little specks flew with every one of his thrusts, making his cock spear in and out perfectly and without restraint.

Every muscle in his body screamed for release, so soon, so quickly. His balls ached for it, spittle flew from his mouth with every ragged breath he took. Your back arched so nicely underneath him. You were such a perfect fucking omega he almost couldn’t stand it.

He shut his eyes tight, hand going to fist back into your hair and wrench upwards. You didn’t protest, didn’t even let a sound leave your throat despite the pain it brought. It didn’t take away the pleasure; nothing could. Nothing could ever take this away: the stretch of his thick, long cock pounding into you, hitting that spot over and over again until you came once more, then twice, then a third time.

He was breathing so raggedly that it branched pain into his lungs; his fingers dug into your hip so harshly that blood spilled from beneath his nails.

“Fuck,” he breathed, almost like a whisper: an angry, desperate, hissing whisper. “Oh fuck, _____...”

Everything was too much: your scent, the sight of you, your perfect cunt gripping mercilessly with every thrust. He bent forward, stuttering his hips into you as his orgasm approached. Copper met his tongue when he bit harshly into your back.

Beyond his control, his quirk joined the fray of pleasure, blue flame flickering faintly along his palms and burning you. But fuck, it didn’t matter. Nothing fucking mattered but the wet slap of his hips ramming into you, the painful bite of his belt at your thighs, his teeth at your back, sharp alpha canines digging in.

He felt the flames on his face rising; along his jaw, in his hair, they had a mind of their own. He had the sense, just a sliver of it, to back away from you, saving you from the heat that licked parts of his face, even as his hand burned char into your hip.

His rhythm was going; he was close. It hurt. It fucking hurt. He needed to let go. Needed to give you his cum. Needed to pump it in your eager little omega cunt.

“I’m—shit,” he choked, swallowing the dryness in his mouth and moaning long and low. “Tell me you want it baby girl,” he panted. “Tell me you want this cum. Tell me.”

“I—” You coughed miserably, body beyond your muscles’ command. “I want it—”

“What? What do you want? Say it, sweetheart—fuck, tell me—Tell me you want my cum and I’ll fucking give it to you—” You squeezed him tight, too tight, and he keeled over with a grunt. "You feel so damn good. Fuck I’m gonna give it to you, gonna fill this tight pussy come on, come on—”

“I want your cum!” you sobbed, tightening around him as if on instinct. He grabbed your hips with both hands, fucked into you primally now, an angry, seething growl in his throat that was far from human.

Flames on his back, on his arms, on his neck. The skin where his hands held you steamed and you moaned in agony, or maybe pleasure—maybe both. He didn’t care. Neither did you.

“Fuck!” he shouted, just as his hips stuttered and fire shot up his spine. He threw his head back, tendons on his neck flaring, arms and legs shaking as he came inside. “Fucking shit—”

He panted for air, felt staples pulling in places all over him, felt his balls burning with pleasure and heard your mangled cry as he gave you what your body needed, what it had always fucking needed.

He didn’t stop fucking into you until his body couldn’t physically answer his brutal needs, and he bent over you, one last and hard thrust sending you flat against the mattress. His searing body pressed flush against you, met your nipped skin in an overwhelming contrast and forced a whimper from your throat.

He bit into you wherever his mouth could reach, claimed you in any way he could without irrevocably mating you. Lost in the heat of it all, in the pleasure that burned up his spine and gave him vertigo, he wanted nothing else but you: to dominate you, make you submissive, fucking own you until you knew nothing else but him and his cock and his seed inside you—but he couldn’t mate you. Wouldn’t.

Maybe not yet.

His flames subsided on their own, leaving smoke to rise all over his skin like overworked geysers; a steaming form on top of yours. The pungency of the expelled fumes would have surely made you nauseous any other time, but your senses were dulled to discomforts and pains alike.

You panted heavily beneath him, quivering under his weight. He lay his head against your back and breathed.

Wanting to push himself upright he twisted a hand into the cushion next to your head, tried to work himself up, but unable to with the debility of his worn muscles.

“Goddamnit,” he rasped, then, forcing strength into his limp limbs, pushed up on a shaky arm and righted himself dizzily. He had to close his eyes, reclaim his vision from the black spots encompassing it, then blinked the room back into focus.

You made some mousy noise beneath him. Then you squirmed, tightening around his oversensitive dick and making him grunt.

He pulled out of you carefully, slowly, every inch dissuaded by the tight squeeze. Wetness made a sleek mess of it all, slick streaks down to your knees, on his own skin, too; splattered against his pelvis, dripping down his balls and his thighs. He shivered. All of this, all of this mess for him, because of him.

His seed spilled out of you when his cockhead, red and twitching, released itself. His cum was hotter than what should have been normal. As it dripped down your thighs it felt like a simmering stream.

The mess, primal though flattering as it was, was quickly something of an agitation on his sweltering skin, and he wanted to be rid of it. A hand was at your back to steady himself, and he pushed at it again to keep his balance—that was when he noticed the full scope of the burns he’d left on you. The burns, the bruises, the blood. He looked upon the violence he’d done with careful regard. He knew from a simple glance, and from experience, that the burns were so severe they would be beyond full healing. You’d have them there forever. A token of his brutality, of his lust.

He closed his eyes and breathed out a sigh to steady himself.

“Oi.”

He pushed at you, and your limp body moved jointlessly beneath him. He wet his mouth to alleviate some of the dryness. His heart raced and his ears felt stuffed by warmth.

“Oi, you bring a towel? Something to wipe this mess up?” Your cum on his skin was cooling uncomfortably. “Oi.” He shook you a little harder when you kept to your silence, and a quiet whine answered him. “C'mon.”

There was a tiny movement: you attempting to push on your arms. But they were utterly useless to the command of your body. A raspy sound came from your throat, like you were trying to speak in murmurs.

He leaned in. “What?”

You tried again, to little betterment. He tsked, impatience entering his body again despite how languid it felt, and smacked your ass lightly, making you jump.

“I can’t hear you dummy, speak up."

You gave up, and trying to muster what little forte you could, moved a shaking arm and pointed to a bag off to your left. He understood, reached for it, his muscles screaming at him in ache, and set about cleaning himself with a towel he found inside.

He thought better of doing the same for you, but was again drawn to the wounds he’d left on you. Provoking an alpha-like possessiveness in him as they did, they were unsightly, and some far away part of him regretted what he’d done. He cleaned you carefully, in the smallest form of apology he was capable of evoking.

When the rough towel wiped over your sensitive clit you shivered miserably, and he huffed a quiet, weak laugh, his eyes heavy-lidded.

“Such an omega.”

He tugged his pants back up his waist and sunk down into the mattress at your side. He’d mastered his breathing again, though there was a heat in his lungs, like smoke, which made every breath feel powerful and choking. The smoke had all but gone from his skin, however, extinguished by his mind returning to lucidness.

But there was still a trace of the ferocious alpha in him there, his legs and depleted cock twitching when he breathed in and smelled you, a warmer vanilla now: something changed and unpure now that you’d been rutted. And he knew, possessively, with a shot of primal instinct going down his spine and making fire roll through him, that he’d forever changed you.

He looked over at you, realizing for the first time that you’d been completely inanimate. You barely looked to be breathing; your inhales came in irregular, heavy intervals, as if each breath taken succeeded a reminder that you were still alive, awake.

He knew it was the adrenaline still rushing in his veins that made him do it, but he reached out, pushed at your head gently so you would look his way, and brushed the matted hair from your face.

Your skin was flushed with sweat. A damp spot in the mattress must have been tears, and probably drool. It wasn’t particularly nice to look at, but it stirred something in him nevertheless. You were a mess. An utter mess. His mess.

Your eyes were closed, pupils fluttering beneath the lids like shaking leaves.

“Open your eyes,” he said, for no particular reason.

But they shut tight at the command, and your breathing picked up, as if you were debating between obeying or not.

“Open them,” he told you again, no firmer, but apparently, it was persuasive all the same. Tears slipped from your ducts when you complied, eyes shining and trembling.

He ignored the part of him that ached to fall into his greedy impulses again. It was alluring. Not just because you were an omega, but because you were you. And he’d fucked you. He’d taken you. He was your first alpha.

Without further instruction to do otherwise, your eyes started to close again, and the hand that still held your hair from your forehead tugged lightly, entreating your eyes to stay trained on him.

“Nuh uh, wake up. Talk to me a little, before you pass out.”

You hummed groggily in response, your mouth open but too dry to form around words. You sealed your lips together, swallowed the dryness.

“Can’t move,” you managed raspily, staring at him, looking exhaustedly vulnerable and knowing you did, too.

He watched you, debating leniency, and decided he’d give you some, just for good measure.

You made an uncomfortable whine when he took your forearm and dragged you to him. He didn’t try to hold you, or keep you against him. Instead when you curled into your little ball against his side, moaning as you did at having to stretch your body’s abused muscles, he let you. What he didn’t deny of intimacy, however, was the arm he draped over you leisurely, just to feel you as he lay on his back and stared at the ceiling.

His thumb brushed over the flesh of your hip, and felt the corrugated, slowly cooling flesh there. The sensation made him grimace. It was so like the gnarly, repulsive texture of his own skin. Not as severe by a long shot, but nevertheless, unpleasant to the touch.

“Hurt?” he asked.

You blinked lazily, his voice sounding like a waning echo to your numb ears. “What...?”

“Your hips. Look at them.”

You forced your eyes open; they rolled themselves into nausea when you shifted to look. When you noticed the pinkish, creased wound on your burned skin, you froze, then started to shiver in your dismay.

“You… I…” Your unsteady hand moved, a finger traced over the rough, still raw skin. Clearly, the pain was lost on you, lust granted. But the sight had your stomach twisting, its emptiness sloshing uncomfortably at the sight of your own damaged flesh; you could even smell it, strong and sickening like cooking meat.

“You’re lucky that’s all I did,” he muttered, selfishly flippant. “And you’re lucky I did it there.”

You took a shaky breath, and shut your eyes, resigned to your body’s lethargy. “Asshole.”

He humphed. “It’ll heal,” he lied. “I’ve had worse, clearly. Done worse, too. It won't get infected.”

You were quiet afterwards, volitionally so, barely keeping your hostility in check. He was more than aware of your chagrin, and didn’t particularly care. If you started feeling it later, he’d go get you meds for the pain. But he’d known omegas to be particularly resilient in their heats. There was very little that registered above the natural pleasure of being filled by an alpha.

“I’m…”

He glanced down at you, saw your mouth opening and closing in determined hesitation.

“I’m not a whore,” you managed croakily, and irritably.

He started laughing. “You gonna hold that against me?”

“I’m not a whore.” You scowled, resentful of his carefree ribbing. “And I’m not”—you sputtered, breathing hard through a phlegm-choked cough–“a slut.”

His laugh subsided into a low chuckle in his chest. You didn’t see the wry grin on his face, but heard it.

He shrugged. “I say shit when I’m high on fucking. Don’t take it so personally.” But he couldn’t stop now that the warmth of craftiness was twisting in him. “Besides…” The arm draped over you shifted, found your ass, and gave a generous squeeze. You whimpered in objection. “You basically are my whore, now.”

You shivered with frustration. Despite the wild—incredibly wild and earth-shattering sex, you were conceiving a poorer and poorer image of him the more he gloated. With renewed strength, you rose on your arm and pushed his hand off.

“I’m not,” you insisted testily.

“I get you don’t know how this shit works,” he started, “so guess I’ll explain it to you.”

There it was again: the possessive, ravenous wildfire in his veins that coaxed his arm to reclaim its spot at your back, bring you closer to him. Adjusting his position, he let your head rest on his stomach; your legs curled comfortably around his own for comfort. He watched your head rise and fall as he breathed steadily.

“May not have mated you,” he went on, anticipating your griping, "but I’m your alpha now.”

You tensed at the declaration, he noticed, but no more than that.

“And it’s gonna stay that way unless you let some other one take you in a heat, which I don’t see you doing. Unless you’re just so dick hungry after this that you let any guy fuck you.”

One of your feet dug opposedly into his calf and he snickered. “Didn’t think so. To the last part, I mean. Trust me…” His hand smoothed over your ass again, and he smirked when you moaned quietly. “You’re gonna be hungry for it.”

“I can’t handle anymore,” you muttered, breath puffing against his stomach. Even those giddy times you’d imagined your first alpha taking you, envisioned a night of passion that would end in ardent nurturing, wrapped under your dominant’s embrace, protected and warm and wanted—you now balked the indulgent, cherished ideal of it. This was not what you had expected. Dabi was not what you had expected.

“I can’t,” you started, lacking the confident breath to loose your doubts on. “I don’t even… feel it. It’s gone.”

“You’re still in heat. It’ll pop back up when your body’s ready. I’m hoping you don’t need a biology lesson for this shit, but point of a heat is to get you knocked up. You get that, right?”

“Obviously.”

“Obviously,” he mocked. “And obviously since I’m not tryin’ to make you a mother, I didn’t do that. Your body’s gonna keep beggin’ for it until I give it to you, and I won’t. So you’ll get your heat back once your junk down there realizes it’s empty and wants to try again, except it’s gonna be a lot crazier this time, since you’ve finally had a taste. Told you that you were only hurting yourself by holding out this long."

You started to follow the logic. It wasn’t anything you hadn’t heard before. But to hear it fleshed out like this, by the alpha who had taken you, felt somewhat like a hazardous warning.

“I just… “ You shook your head against him. “We did it. You said that would be enough. That it wouldn’t be so bad, now…”

“You thought one fuck would fix it?” he asked, condescension taking an amusing slope in his tone.

You didn’t answer, and he grinned.

“You got a lot to learn, sweetheart. Gotta get you through the whole heat, first. Life would be easy for you omegas if one fuck could take care of your problems.” He hummed. “No, you’re gonna be dyin’ to get bred up until your heat is over. I’m not gonna do that, but I’ll fill you up for a little relief.” Something about his own words made him twitch in anticipation, and he put a hand on your head, pinched a handful of hair gently in his fist. “Until you need it again. And again.”

You heart was beating fast. He felt it against his side. “We don’t have to,” you said.

“Don’t have to what?”

“I’m too tired,” you insisted, feeling your body lag into the mattress. “I won’t want it anymore. I’m done. This will be fine. I don’t need you.”

He laughed with such smugness that your cheeks went hot.

“Now you’re just being dumb… But fine. Think what you want. Give it a couple hours. You’ll be clawing at my dick before morning.” He picked idly at the drying blood under his nails, frowning to see it, but too amused by the prospect of your ignorance to regret his violence anymore. “And now, I’m gonna make you work for it.”

“I won’t. You got what you wanted. And I… you made your point.” You shoved off of his body, pushed away from him scornfully on limbs that were seconds from giving out, and sat yourself upright.

Your spine curled and straightened enticingly as you arched up; he watched with covetous appreciation, then saw the red blood drying on your back. He tried not to put out a spiteful laugh.

Let you find the mess he’d made later, he decided. For now, a more urgent matter was making sure his dick didn’t get too hard before you were ready to go again. But you stretched so nicely like that, reminding him of how your body had dipped so obediently for him when he’d bent you over and fucked you cross-eyed.

“You need to leave,” you said.

Snorting, he went back to picking at his nails. “I’m stayin’ right here. Even if I didn’t still have a job to do, this is a nice bed. Better than the couches at the bar, ya know. Nice little nest you’ve made for yourself."

“Then… I’m leaving.” You tried to stand, and failed, legs sliding out from under you and giving your body back to the mattress beneath.

“No you ain’t,” he snickered. “Even if you could find another place to wait off the heat before it came back again, you’re gonna run back to me.”

“I don’t need you,” you insisted decisively, angrier now.

“Yeah, you do. I’m your alpha now, remember?” He saw your shoulders rise with a heavy, angry breath. “You said it yourself. You’re pathetic, and you need an alpha cock. And right now, that’s mine."

“…Fuck you.”

He cackled patronizingly, like it was the funniest thing he’d ever heard, giving no stock to your anger at all.

Indignation compelled you to your feet, wobbling, a hand going between your thighs to feel the hot throbbing there.

That was when you noticed the blood, and some of the bruises. You shook your head, infuriated with yourself, and with him.

“You’re… sick,” you muttered. “I can’t believe I let you… You’re a sick bastard."

He chuckled dismissively, and stopped himself from reaching out to grab you like he wanted to—that attitude of yours made you really fuckable.

Instead he rested back into the mattress, forcing his hands to keep busy on his nails, on his staples.

“Keep it up sweetheart,” he muttered. "When you’re wet for me again in a few hours, I’m gonna remember you said that."

“Fuck you,” you said again, too disillusioned to think carefully on the foreboding, and found your clothes.

Then, forgetting he’d torn them, you threw the tattered garb at him.

He ignored you, unfazed, flicking the ineffectual shirt off his chest as you rummaged through your bag for a new one.

You pulled it over your head, then, with a final glare of indignant reproval, walked off.

He didn’t bother asking where you were going. He knew you would be back.

#dabi x reader #bnha #dabi shtuff #dabi

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soul-music-is-life · 3 years ago

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PLL: OS...thoughts on episode 6 (spoilers)

First of all, spoilers below cut...

The beginning of the episode was really powerful. I suspected Imogen’s child was a rape baby from the beginning (see my previous lil rant in my previous review, hence why she is so detached from it). I also suspected Tabby was sexually assaulted as well. The men in this town are absolute shit. Except Ash. Ash is pure.

Tabby/Imogen are fantastic as friends and I love their dynamic.

Creepy Joe is hella creepy…and I’m not really impressed with his wooden acting. Sorry.

That scene in the living room with them talking about Creepy Joe was priceless. Photos coming up in my next post.

Noa has a heart of gold and I love her for it. Giving up a spot on the team to take care of her mom? This girl is honestly too pure. I love that they’re confronting addiction the way they are. It is very much a disease. And it’s painful to watch and I think Noa is slowly coming around to the truth about her mom.

Faran’s dad seems like such a good dad. Her mother is awful. I really hate all the moms at this point except Mouse’s, but maybe that’s because we don’t know her secret yet.

Shawn is on my shitlist. He had no right to confront Noa’s mom.

Ash/Mouse are adorkable. I adore them, but I am freaked the fuck out for Mouse. That guy stalking her is way too much for me.

So much Rosewood. So many Easter eggs. Lol, Ezra’s books. I think people are gonna be pissed about seeing that name again. I just laughed.

Dude…Tabby getting in strange cars with men she doesn’t know. She has got to be the dumbest horror movie buff in the entire world. These girls drive me insane...

...oh…okay, now I feel like shit. That Rosewood guy was actually a nice dude and she imagined she was going to get assaulted again. That fucking PTSD hits hard.

Karen/Kelly getting that text feels a lot like Mona getting her A-texts in the show…except…holy shit…why is the creeper attacking her?! He left the other girls alone after they did what he said! WHAT DID KAREN DO!? Was it because she was a bully?

Well, I’m officially convinced it is 100% Kelly. Why would the creeper be after Karen? Hmmm…

Eddie Lamb was spoiled for me early on, but it was still nice to hear the name on screen again. That being said…I’m salty they didn’t get the original actor. I didn’t care for this new actor. He didn’t have the same charm as the original actor.

Faran standing up to her mom was EVERYTHING.

Lol, Riverdale reference.

Yeaaaah, figured Angela was raped with the way she was walking that night…I hate all the men on this show. Reaffirmed that. Except Ash. And Shawn is okay again. And Henry and Chip…unless they are hiding something shady.

This is getting intense. I am so worried about that creepy guy hanging around Mouse. Noa is getting back on the right track (pun intended). Imogen and Tabby facing their trauma was PAINFUL. Faran defying her mom was great and maybe it makes me an asshole, but I don’t care her mother was in an accident.

That’s all I got for now. Going to watch episode 7. I know a spoiler about that one, too. And I’ll get into it in the next “review/thoughts”.

#Pretty Little Liars Original Sin #PLL Original Sin spoilers #PLL: OS #PLL OS spoilers #Pretty Little Liars

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alreadyblondenow · 4 years ago

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He loves me, he loves me not | Jung Sungchan

❤︎ Sungchan x female!reader ❤︎ Fluff, Smut, ❤︎ 4/4 for LOVE MONTH SERIES: Boys Don’t Cry One is a big number

One is a big number | You and your words | Sweet | He loves me, he loves me not |

Summary: The famous Jung Sungchan asked you out in front of his friends out of nowhere and you coldly turned him down but he didn’t take no for an answer. He proved his seriousness to you until you decided to give love a chance and so is Sungchan... but that didn’t take away your doubt. Until an ugly fight almost ruined your relationship.

Word count: 2,835k

Warnings: Unprotected sex, virginity loss, making out, fingering, swearing, self doubt, trust issues, couple fight, shouting at each other, mentions of break up. The smut is avoidable, btw.

A/N: PURE FICTION. PURE FICTION. PURE FICTION. This is inspired by nothing, haha I just want to write something for him. This is hella short bc I didn’t want to go crazy on my first fic for sungchan haha. But I will def write more for you. Also this is reposted, bc tumblr... -_-

Supposedly for KPOPSCAPE’s Love Fools but I want to finish my Boys Don’t Cry Series already :(( huhu

Jung Sungchan is like a perfect movie. Not because it’s where you first met, but because he’s too good to be true.

Captain of the soccer team, lead the team to championships basically his whole high school life, smart, very creative, gentleman, and every girl’s dream guy.

That’s why when he asked you out, you thought it’s some kind of a joke that you turned him down right then and there in front of his friends. Even though he looked harmless and he asked you politely, still, he’s Jung Sungchan. Why would he waste his time on you?

But just like a good movie, Jung Sungchan is surprising.

After you turned him down and set your mind on the quiz you’re about to take in ten minutes, he grabbed you by the wrist and did not take no for an answer.

“Okay fine, I completely understand you. Don’t say ‘no’ too soon, and let me earn your time” he said with a desperate tone and hopeful eyes and finally lets go of your hand.

“I have no idea what you’re up to Sungchan, but fine. I-I have to go to class” you said and walked as fast as you could to your next class.

On the following days that soon became weeks, Sungchan proved that he’s serious and showed it to you through pursuing you without giving you pressure, tagging along with you and your friends and instantly creating your own world together, and remind you about his intentions to you almost every day.

Eventually, after many weeks of trying, you became friends that are comfortable enough with each other. Though he’s bold with his actions and words while you continue to convince yourself that Sungchan is serious, “Just... go with it for now. I’ll wait for you to get used to us, I got all the time in the world” he says, putting strands of hair behind your ear while looking at you lovingly. He never fails to make you feel shy and secure at the same time.

“Tomorrow is a big day for me,” he breathes in deeply before he finishes his sentence and makes a big request, “I would like you to come watch me play, but only if you’re comfortable of course. If not, then at least call me after the game-“

“No no. I’ll watch you. I’ll cheer for you, wouldn’t want to miss seeing you win... again” you said and let out a shy giggle. Sungchan never asked you for anything, and you think watching his game is a good way to return the favor.

“So... you watch me play, huh?” he smirked and swing an arm on your shoulders as you walk closely together towards the field.

And just like a good movie, Jung Sungchan is not perfect. Good, but not perfect.

Sungchan and his team lost the game.

You wish you could do something to cheer him up and turn this night around for him but you’ve never seen him like this and quite frankly you don’t know what to do.

He stopped looking at the crowd and stopped smiling at you the moment they started to lose. You saw him get irritated in the field, scream and shout at his teammates, get scolded by their coach. It must be really hard for him and his team.

After the game, you waited for him to come out of the men’s locker room but you were told that he’s really disappointed in himself right now and it might take some time. “If you want, you can go inside. I know you two are not yet together but, comfort him. He needs you” Shotaro said, pats your back, and said goodbye.

Of course, you went in even though you’re not sure what exactly to tell him. But when you saw him sitting on the bench with his head down, your heart ached in an instant and suddenly you know what to do.

“Hey” you greet him quietly.

“Hey- I was just about to meet you, sorry” he flashed a smile like he didn’t look so hurt just a few seconds ago. Now you don’t know if he’s actually happy to see you or he’s faking a smile.

“You know, if we’re going to be together we should start showing different sides of ourselves and start trusting each other. Right?” You said and sat beside him.

What you said made him happy sincerely but the weight of losing tonight is just too much at the moment. So he told you the truth, “I’m a failure” he says and covered his face, trying to hide his frustrations.

“You’re not. Losing tonight doesn’t mean you’re a failure. Losing is part of the game that you love to play so much. And I think you’re not going to stop playing just because there’s a chance of losing” you soothe his back and massaged his shoulders.

You and Sungchan talked for some time in the locker room. He told you what he was thinking and feeling while he was on the field with a losing score, everyone was frustrated, and “suddenly I can't hear the cheers anymore and my worries are eating me up and ruining my game” he says almost in tears again.

And after that heart-to-heart talk in the locker room, he brought you home safely and thanked you for being the only good thing that existed tonight. He undid his seatbelt and reached for your hand to kiss it. He kissed you there because he knew you wouldn’t let him kiss you. Not yet at least.

But he’s wrong. You undid your seatbelt too, reached for his face, and planted a soft kiss on his lips. “Good night,” you told him and kissed him again before you get out of his car.

After that life changing kiss, just like a good movie, Jung Sungchan is charming, tender, powerful, hilarious, silly, and dramatic.

Your life changed when you started dating Sungchan, but still, you doubt him about his feelings for you.

Nonetheless, you enjoy the relationship. Slowly you become bold and confident with your actions towards him. You’re not afraid to show him that you care, you show him how much he makes you happy, you don’t lie to him whenever you get disappointed with something he did, and sometimes if things heat up quickly, you two fight like there’s no tomorrow.

And just like a normal person, Sungchan changed. Though you saw it coming already because nothing is constant in this world, still it hurt you. You miss the old him and because of that, your doubt about his feelings for you grew and grew until you can’t take it anymore and you decided to break up with him.

“What happened to showing different sides of ourselves and start trusting each other, Y/n? Okay fine, I admit it, I changed. But I have a reason for that and not because I don’t love you. What were you thinking?” He asked sternly, gripping the stirring wheel hard as he drives you home. You didn’t answer his question so it was quiet the whole time until he reaches your house. And the moment he stopped the car, you gathered your stuff and did not want the night to be longer than it already is... but of course, Sungchan will not let you.

He locked the doors of his car before you could even get out. Which made you angry instantly. “I’m not letting you break up with me” he said calmly while you’re anger add up every second.

“I’m not taking it back. My decision is final” you said, covering your face so he won’t see you cry. Leaning forward towards the dashboard and massaging your forehead.

“Why do you doubt my feelings for you? What else do you want me to do? I changed because I can feel that you’re not happy anymore with what we have, so I distanced myself from you to give you space. But I never even once thought of breaking up with you, I want to try and I hope you do too! That’s how much I love you. What did I ever do in the first place to make you doubt me like this, huh?”

“Well then everything’s clear!”

“What is?!”

“Maybe I don’t really love you and that maybe what I feel for you is the problem, not you!” Lie.

“Psh. You’re just telling me that because you’re mad right now!” but it did hurt him that he’s is close to tears.

It turned silent again for a couple of minutes. Maybe it’s his way to stop you both from shouting at each other. He turned his body closer to you and reached for your hand.

“Just don’t break up with me tonight. I'm sorry we shouted at each other,” he pulled you close and kissed your temple, “I just- don’t know what else to do to prove my love to you and you may not see it but I’m scared to the bone. I'm scared of losing you”

After hearing those sincere words without doubting him for the first time, you accepted his apology and said your sorry to him too. “I didn’t mean what I said, I’m sorry," you said and wiped his tears away.

Thankfully the night ended peacefully with long kisses and tight hugs before he walks you to your front door.

Just like a good movie, Jung Sungchan is the greatest plot twist of your life.

After graduating high school, you and Sungchan spend your remaining time together over the summer before you part ways for college. Now that you’re about to face long distance relationship, you both feel stupid about the fights that you had during the earlier days of your relationship.

“I should’ve kissed you longer than usual and told you I love you instead of screaming at you, you know?” He says while playing with your fingers.

Today is one of those days where you and Sungchan sit at the top of his car, your back against his chest and you in between his long legs while watching the sun go down and watch the city lights.

“Then say it now” you said, turning your head on the side and cup his face.

“I love you” he said and planted a soft kiss on your lips, “and don’t you dare doubt it this time-“ he says and tickled your sides to make you giggle.

When you two arrived at your house with a box of pizza for dinner, your mom texted you last minute that they will be out will probably be home very late. Great you murmured because you don’t want Sungchan to go home just yet.

“They’re out and probably will be back by midnight. Can you stay a little longer?” You pout but your boyfriend kissed it away.

“Of course,” he said and smiled at you.

And after a few minutes of flirting while eating pizza, you two decided that you’re not hungry anymore and proceed to make out in your room already to maximize your time of being alone together. Giggling and touching each other wherever you want while your lips touch and kiss each other deeper. Making little sounds just for the two of you, whispering sweet nothings, and listening to what each other wants.

Sungchan removed his hoodie because he’s starting to sweat like crazy, but you sat up and asked for more. Slipping your hands inside his shirt and kissing him as you remove it and throw it away. Still surprised at your recent move, your boyfriend let out a small laugh and reach for your chin as he returns your kisses. “Why are you just showing me this side of you now?” He said and pushed you back on the mattress and quickly removed your shorts and spread your legs so he could lie on top of you while in between your thighs.

Slowly he raises your shirt which you get rid of immediately while he kisses you from your lower abdomen and all the way up until he reaches the valley between your boobs and unclasps your bra effortlessly.

This is his first time seeing you very much exposed for him. And he loves it. So without warning, he sucked your nipples and made you arched your back and ask more. Nibbling and pinching your now swollen nipples, licking and biting your boobs, and covering it with spit. Oh you love what he’s doing.

“One more item of clothing left for the both of us, if I remove yours I’m afraid I can’t control myself” he whispers beside your ear and went back to kissing your lips.

“Let’s do it then,” you said in between kisses, swinging your arms around his neck and moving your hips to show him how eager you are. In return, he put his thumb on your damped panties and draw circles on your clit before he removes it finally.

“I’m so hard right now,” he went back in between your spread legs, kissing you with want while his fingers play with your slit. He touched you hundreds of times already but every time his fingers made contact on your pussy, it feels like the first time again.

“You too, not fair” you whine, slipping your hand inside his underwear and feeling the smoothness of his butt while biting your lips. Of course he gave your request immediately, pulled away from your body and exposed himself to you for the first time.

Knelling in between your spread legs, he pumped his cock while looking at your virgin tight hole and diving into lust even more. He checked your slit if you’re wet enough for him, yes. He asked you if it’s okay to fuck you raw for the first time, yes.

“This will feel goo- ah, fuck” he moaned out when he slides his cock on your wet slit for the first time, feeling the rawness of the activity you’re about to do.

“Keep doing that, fuck it feels good” you said while watching his cock slide up and down your slit and sometimes poking your hole which makes you jolt and giggle. And when he accidentally poked your hole and pushed his entire head, you told him, “Don’t pull away-“ you hiss and finally feel a small stretch from his cock, and as he slowly pushes in, the stretch becomes even more intense that you had to stop him from time to time before he continues to push in.

When he finally rolled his hips slowly, you’re suddenly out of breath and you feel so full. All you can do is grip his arm to show him how good he makes you feel, try not to close your legs whenever he hits a spot, and kiss his lips until the stretch is replaced by pleasure.

“This is what we’ve been missing the whole time- oh!” He said, grunting and moaning so good while fucking you at a slightly faster pace than earlier. Bodies away from each other, both of his hands are gripping your waist while watching your boobs bounce up and down, and of course watching his cock go inside your pussy.

You reach for your clit too and tried stimulating yourself because you’re so near but your boyfriend removed your hand and replaced it with his and suddenly your moans became higher and you’re gripping the sheets so hard.

“C-cuming” you tried telling him but too late, your legs are shaking and so is your whole body, you tried curling yourself but you can’t because your boyfriend is still fucking you. Harder this time.

And right before he hits his high, he pulled away and pumped his cock away from you and took care of his own mess. While you, on the other hand, can finally curl and catch your breath while you wait for your boyfriend to come join you again.

“You okay?” He asks, cleaning your sensitive pussy with a damped towel and helped you wear a clean underwear. “There, so I won't ask for round two” he said and kissed you on the cheek before he joins you under the covers.

“Do you know what I was thinking while we were at it?” He asked, you came closer to him and started kissing him softly. Waiting for him to tell you something sexy, or dirty.

But

“You’re worth the wait, and I’m definitely happy that I didn’t let you break up with me” you stopped kissing him. You didn’t expect he’d say something serious and sweet after fucking your brains out for the first time. “We both know you’re not easy. I’m glad we chose to love each other” now he’s the one who initiated the kiss.

Soft. Cotton-like kiss.

“Now, I feel bad I gave you a hard time” you said in between kissing. “You do love me so much” you added, he chuckled.

“Again, now that you believe that I love you. It’s all worth it”

#nct-writers #neosmutcollective #kpopscape #kdiner #kwritersworldnet #nct smut #sungchan smut #sungchan fic #nct sungchan smut #nct sungchan #sungchan #sungchan x reader #nct x reader #sungchan fluff #nct sungchan x reader #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct #nct 2020

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melaninenthusiasts · 4 years ago

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Maldonia | Prince Naveen

Prince Naveen x black reader

"We are never doing this again," I say as I finished getting dressed at the foot of Naveen's bed now sliding the remaining of my dress down.

I don't know how we even got here.

Well, let me re- phrase that:

I know exactly how this how we got here.

A typical drunken night of passion on the night of Maldonia's Independence Day. We were at a party and there we're drinks. Lots and lots of drinks.

And he was just there with that gorgeous brown skin and pretty long eyelashes and charming accent just tempting me to go there with him.

Naveen chuckled to himself at my statement. "You said that after the first round and the second" he licked his lips. "And the third"

I slipped back on my heels. "Well, I mean it this time," I say looking back at him deep into his eyes.

That sexy smirk on his face rose again.

"Wanna go another before we make that official before I go?" He suggested to me.

Wow, I really forgot he was leaving.

I chuckled to myself. "No"

This man is so cocky.

"C'mon, it'll be like goodbye sex. You know I'm leaving for New Orleans."

"To find you a privileged princess," I smirked.

"Ha ha, very funny" he says watching me get dressed. He just layed there in the large bed half naked.

"One day your gonna find a woman who's gonna make your work for love" I say to him and he listens. "Not me though, that shit would be exhausting." I add.

"I'm Prince Naveen of Maldonia. I never work for anything. Women practically drop their panties at the sight of me. Kind of like you did last night."that sexy smirk rises on his face again.

I playfully rolled my eyes at him.

That got me thinking about last night and how everything went down.

There I was at the Independence Day party with my two bestfriends having fun until they ditched me to dance with some guys.

There were our traditional Maldonia colors everywhere. In confetti, people's attire, and of course the drinks. Peach and purple with the Maldonian castle on the flag.

As of now, I was at the bar sipping my Maldonia Martini that was a peach Crown Royal with purple crystals on the outside.

I just wanted to hang with my girls but I guess plans change.

"Another round of shots!" The life of the party, Naveen orders the employees behind the bar.

"Hey, Ria. Enjoying the party?" He looks over to me with a kind smile.

He had just came from being danced on by some women on the dance floor. He's what you call a Ladies' Man.

"The name is Aria, we're not in academy anymore. " I snap stirring my drink.

"Oh okay, my bad" he throws his hands up in defense.

We have known eachother for as long as I can remember. We went to academy together and our families are pretty close-like weekly family dinners close. Ever since his parents cut him off, Naveen has been searching for his Princess Charming. He knows that I don't have the amount of dough of his liking. I dodged that bullet with him. He wouldn't dare do that to me anyway. Whoever he plans to marry for money is their problem.

That's why today he is having his last hoorah for good times sake before he jets off to America—New Orleans.

I was apart of the few people in his circle that new of this. He will be missed-even with his slightly conceited, spolied-self.

"You know Navé, Im gonna miss you Navé. Underneath all of the glitter and gold, there's a nice,kind man." I say to him and he smiles at me.

"I guess I deserve that for calling you by your nickname. I'm gonna miss you too." He says.

"I know your friends ditched you but why are you not out dancing?" He asks. "Let me be your wingman. " Navé says and I shake my head no

"C'mon Ria, you gotta loosen up. There's plenty of guys out here for you to mingle with," Naveen says to me as he waits for his drink beside me at the bar. He was so busy ranting to me that he forgot that he was waiting for a drink. He's a prince, he never does that. Naveen gets what he wants when he wants it. That's just how it is with him.

"Wait, why am I waiting?" He says to himself causing to laugh at him. "What a man got to get another round of shots around here!" Naveen yelled loudly at the bartender.

I laughed at how irritated he was getting on waiting for his drinks. Unlike his usual V.I.P treatment in clubs and venues, this was already an exclusive party. So everyone basically got treated the same.

"Round of shots for the Prince!"the mixer fixed his shots to his liking.

"So what happened to Brandon?" He asks me referring to my ex. Naveen and I haven't seen eachother in a while so we were catching up.

"Brandon," I corrected him. "And he cheated. It's whatever."

"Are you serious? If I ever see him I'll-" he started to get mad. "How could he do that to you? You're gorgeous, sexy, and kind of nice" I chuckled playfully hitting him at that last part.

"But seriously...how?" He scoffs to himself in frustration.

"Here," Naveen passes me the Maldonian alcohol in the shot glass.

"To my last hoorah and getting you a night of passion," he says before linking arms with me as we both through our heads back taking the shots. I immediately felt the burn go to my throat. We unhooked arms.

"Woo!" Naveen exclaims in excitement.

"So, how you feeling about leaving?" I ask him.

"You know, I'm actually kind of scared. I've been here my entire life and never been on my own before. It's about damn time." He says admittedly.

"But I'm hella excited for New Orleans. The culture, the scenery, the music. I just need a new environment."

"I get that. But you'll be fine. Just do whatever your heart tells you."

Before I knew it, we talked some more and he helped me muster the courage to dance with someone as he did the same. I was on the dancefloor grinding my hips on a man I had just met.

Naveen locked eyes with me as he looked unamused by the girl grinding on him. The stunning woman felt all on his body pushing herself onto him but all he could do was gaze at me.

The man I was still dancing on hugged my waist squeezing me tightly as we motioned to the rhythm of the music.

Once we both then switched partners to dance with eachother.

"Let's go," I pull him closer to whisper in his ear. His lingering eyes gaze deep into mines in desire. I then took his hand leading us out of the party.

_______

"I-I'm gonna do you soo hard," I slur out to him tugging his shirt closer to me. I chuckle drunkenly and started nibbling on ear. Sending teasing pecks on his jawline, I felt a smile rise on his face.

"Fucking would be nice, eh?" He says to me with that charming accent.

His hands trail from my waist to my ass squeezing it passionately. My lips gravitated to his getting lost in them. The kisses grew from being innocent to sloppy.

We were now the leaning against the wall of the private elevator of his Royal Suite. We had entire suite to ourselves. And I was going to make sure to christen all of the rooms.

I got excited as we were rising up to our floor. Sticking my tongue down his throat with my arms around his neck, Naveen picked me up to wrap my legs around his waist. Without breaking the kiss,he managed to unlock the door.

We were now in the spacious white livingroom area accented with golden decorations. I threw my head back as Navé sent teasing pecks all throughout my neck.

"Are you ready for this?" He murmurs as his lips brushes against the skin of my neck.

"I should be asking you that question" I say I he lays us on the couch.

______

We got a little hunger after the first round. Here we were in the kitchen area looking for something to snack on.

With nothing but Naveen's white button down and a pair of lace panties on, I searched in the large refrigerator for a snack.

Naveen comes over behind me shirtless with his arms wrapped around me. He started sending teasing pecks on my neck.

I then grabbed the bowl of strawberries to take a bite of one. He then ate the remaining of it from my hand.

He then let go of me to grab a few things as I sat on the wide kitchen counter.

I continued eating strawberries as ge turned around with a few things in his hands. Whipped cream, honey, and chocolate syrup.

"For the strawberries, " he says and I chuckle. Naveen makes his way over to me standing in between my legs.

I grab the spray can of whipped cream and eat some. I nod my hand at how good it was.

Naveen then takes the can.

After spraying a bit of whipped cream on my neck, he licks it off.

I giggled at the sensation.

"You like that?" His eyes lingered in mines.

"Yeah," I smiled.

Naveen then snaps me out of my thoughts.

"Can I atleast get a goodbye kiss?" Navé asks. "One for the road?" He pouts his lips. I couldn't help but eye his built physique.

This man is so greedy I swear.

I roll my eyes making my way over to him sitting down on the bed. I gravitate my lips towards his once again feeling his soft touch. His tongue waved it's way down my throat and I couldn't seem to break the kiss. His hand felt on my thigh urging me to go there again.

"Okay, maybe this one last time," I chuckle to myself.

"Arania" he said before I could leave. I looked over to him. "Yes, Navé?"

"You we're the one who got away. How did I loose you?" He asked me and I had no words.

Hearing him say that was everything but it wasn't enough for us to be anything. We both knew that.

Lost for words, I just shrugged. "I don't know" I say.

"Have fun in New Orleans. And remember what I said." I say before exiting his spacious bedroom suite.

THE END

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#prince naveen #fairytale fantasies #naveen #princess and the frog #fanfic #melanin #prince naveen x black reader

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dream-a-little-bigger-x · 4 years ago

Text

A Long Way From The Playground | Charlie Gillespie

Requested by @faithie-brock-gillespie01: Can you make one where me and Charlie go out to hang out around the town and I get pinned to the wall by man who hasn’t left me alone all day (like he attacks me when Charlie just goes to the bathroom or something) and then all of a sudden Charlie comes back and saves me by pulling the guy off. They get into a small fight and he ends up growling “mine” and pointing at the guy as I pull him back and out of the place. After I pull him out and get him home. When home I patch him up (because he has a few cuts on his face) and he ends up confessing (after I ask why he did it) that he hates to see me get hurt so he saved me. We end up confessing to loving one another.*My name: y/nMy nicknames: sweetheart, sweetie, love, Princess, queen, angel, nugget (Or whatever you can think of. )*charlies nicknames: Char, King, Baby Boy, My Prince, My Prince Charming, My Love, Babe, Sweetheart, baby, love bug, sweetie, sweetheart, my prince, baby, baby boy, sweet cakes, babe, sweetie, or even Troy (like I use it as a funny thing to mess with him, because he’s kinda like my Troy), real life Luke (because it’s again a funny thing in the relationship or like because he acts like a real life one hence the real life part), (Or whatever you can think of. )

Pairing: Charlie Gillespie x Reader

Warnings: angst, sexual harassment, fight,

Words: 3,426

You’ve been friends with Charlie for ages. The first day at Kindergarten, a mean girl had pushed you off the swing during recess, and when Charlie saw this, he came up to help you. He pushed the girl off the swing she stole from you and then rushed to your side to help you up. He accompanied you to the school nurse and even stayed after the wound on your knee had been taken care of. The nurse had given both of you a lollipop and allowed you to wait in her office until recess was over. Ever since that day, you and Charlie had been inseparable. You went through life together, supporting each other’s decisions and helping out whenever the other was in trouble. It was really hard on you when Charlie went to LA to pursue his acting career, but you supported him nonetheless. This was his dream, and as a best friend, it was your duty to let him go and pursue that dream, even if that meant leaving you in Dieppe all by yourself. Your relationship never really suffered from the distance between the two of you. There were consistent FaceTime calls and constant texts, it’s almost as though he’s not even gone. The only thing that might cause disturbance is your feelings for him. You were eighteen when you first realized that you’d much rather kiss Charlie than hug him, when his otherwise platonic touches were felt everywhere. Everywhere. But, of course, you decided not to say anything because it might just ruin what you have, and what you have is really special. In 2019, Charlie asks you to come along with him to Vancouver where he’s going to be shooting Julie and The Phantoms, a Kenny Ortega project. You, being a big fan of the director and Charlie, decide to come along. You deserve a little break, and you’ve missed Charlie too much to pass up this opportunity. “Bubbaaaaa!” you shriek as you run up to him in the grand hallway of Vancouver International Airport, leaving your luggage somewhere along the way. He’s holding out his arms, ready to catch you as you jump up and into his arms, wrapping your legs around his waist, clutching onto him like a koala bear. Passengers leaving or arriving give you weird looks, annoyed at the disturbance in their day, but you don’t care. It’s been months since you’d last seen this man, and you’re way too excited to be in his arms again. “Hey Nugget,” he mumbles in your hair, inhaling the fresh scent of peonies, his most favorite. “Gosh, I missed ya.” He loosens his arms a little to put you back on your feet, but you don’t want to let go yet. A chuckle vibrates through his chest and travels all the way through yours. “I missed you too, Bubba,” you say back and then let go of him. You just needed a few more seconds in his arms. After grabbing your luggage where you left it, he takes you to the apartment he’s sharing with one of his cast mates, Owen, who’s sitting on the sofa as you arrive. The tall blonde man gets up and makes his way over to you with a wide smile on his face. “Hi!” he greets, opening his arms to give you a welcome hug. “I’m Owen.” “I’m Y/N, nice to meet you,” you say back when the two of you pull away. “I’m gonna show Y/N to their room and then we can maybe get some lunch together?” Charlie suggests to the both of you. After exchanging a glance, you and Owen nod agreeingly. Charlie then excitedly grabs your hand and leads you towards one of the rooms. “This is my room, but you can sleep here and I’ll sleep on the couch,” he explains softly. Your head snaps up at this, wondering if he’s serious about his suggestion of sleeping on the couch. He’s looking at you expectantly. He is serious about sleeping on the couch. “Dude… We used to sleep in the same bed during our sleepovers in Dieppe all the time. Just sleep in this bed with me, alright?” You almost sound angry at the audacity of him suggesting doing otherwise. “Right, yeah! Of course,” he utters, his eyes lighting up, “I just-- didn’t want to force you to sleep in the same bed in case things… changed…” You let out an airy laugh, shaking your head in disbelief whilst throwing your luggage onto the bed with a dull thud. “Nothing could ever change things between us, Char,” you mutter, but in your mind know at least one reason that could change between you. You hear him chuckle as you grab an entirely new outfit from your suitcase, wanting to change out of your disgusting airplane clothes. “Can I take a quick shower before we go to lunch?” you ask, and he simply nods his head and guides you out of the bedroom and to the shared bathroom. While you shower, you think of all the possible ways this week could go. You want to tell Charlie how you truly feel. You can’t just be friends with him anymore. It’s been three years since you figured it out. You’ve spent three years trying not to scream whenever his fingers left a burning trail on your skin or when his glances made you tingle everywhere. But now you’re done trying to pretend nothing’s going on. You’re done pretending not kissing him isn’t killing you. Though the multiple possible scenarios make for a bad movie, you’re willing to at least try and see what he’s going to say or do. This could go either way. Little do you know Charlie’s having the exact same thoughts, only he’s saying them out loud to Owen, one room over. “You gotta tell them, man. There’s no way you’re gonna be able to hold out much longer,” says Owen to his distressed friend, “This is making you crazy.” Charlie doesn’t disagree. It is making him crazy. Maybe this week might give him some clarity as to what to do about this entire situation. Once you’re ready, the three of you head out into Vancouver to grab some lunch. While Charlie and Owen bicker about which restaurant would be best to take you to, you give yourself the opportunity to look around, rewarding your eyes with the beauty that is West End Vancouver. The difference between Dieppe and Vancouver is fascinating, to say the least. It’s funny to you because wherever you go or turn in Dieppe, there’s a natural flair to the streets, while everything in Vancouver is made of brick. Or at least this street is. “What about sushi, Y/N?” Owen asks you, making you snap out of your thoughts. “Ooh! I love me some sushi!” you reply, your mouth already salivating at the thought alone. “Told ya, Char,” he says to Charlie, “Who’s really their best friend, huh?” Charlie playfully punches the blondie in the shoulder, inducing a laugh from him. “All right, kids, where’s this sushi place? I am hella hungry!” you exclaim, interrupting their banter. They both point to a building on your right. You’re now looking at a townhouse, all brown bricks and teal framework around the windows and balconies at the top, whilst the ground floor has a black finish and black canopy with the sushi bar’s logo on it in big, white lettering. Before you can say anything else, the two have pulled you inside already, finding a spot near the back. Charlie slides into the booth next to you while Owen takes the opposite side. The waiter’s quick on his feet and brings you a menu and asks what you want to drink straight away. All three of you order some sodas, and then the waiter leaves you to choose. While you’re scanning the menu for something you like, you can feel a pair of eyes burning your skin. You look up for a moment, locking eyes with a guy that doesn’t look that much older than you. Awkwardly, you shoot him a smile before turning back to the menu. You look up again every now and then because you want to check if he’s still looking, and every time, he is. By the third time, he shoots you this disgusting smirk that sends physical shivers down your spine, shaking your entire body from head to toe. “You okay?” Charlie asks, feeling you shiver. “Yeah, just got the chills,” you reply, not wanting to make this a dramatic thing. It’s just a man staring at you creepily. Nothing you haven’t experienced yet. That’s what you get for wearing such extravagant clothes. “I’m ready to order, what about you guys?” you change the subject quickly, more for yourself than anyone else. You need to focus on other things so as to not feel too uncomfortable. The three of you order your food, and you start to ask the boys some questions about their new project together, and you even ask Owen about his show Knight Squad. You did watch that with your younger siblings when it ran on Nickelodeon. All of it helps keep you occupied and not at all thinking about the creepy man that’s still there. “I gotta go in for a fitting, but I’ll see you guys at the apartment later, okay?” Owen says after lunch, scooting out of the booth. “Can you cover my part of the bill, Char? I’ll pay you back later.” The boy next to you simply nods his head. “Kay, thanks. See you later, Y/N,” he offers you a wave before leaving the joint and leaving you and Charlie by yourself. “Can we go?” you ask when you notice Creepy Guy again. “Yeah, sure,” Charlie replies and scoots out of the booth. “Are you okay? You’ve been fidgety ever since we got here…” Of course he’d notice your change of demeanor. The Creepy Guy’s eyes on you at all times has made you quite nervous. “Oh, no, yeah… I’m fine,” you try to smile as convincingly as possible. “I gotta go to the toilet real quick, I’ll be right back, okay?” You slowly nod your head, unsure if it’s such a good plan to leave you by yourself with Creepy Guy just a few feet away. At first, you can keep your nerves at bay by pulling your jacket on and tugging at your shirt to make sure nothing’s on show. Then, you decide to take your phone out and aimlessly scroll through social media. It’s not like you’re actually picking things up from the things people posted since you’re trying to listen if there are any feet approaching. Your ears betray you today as there’s a tap on your shoulder. Hoping and praying it’s Charlie, you slowly turn around, only to find Creepy Guy in front of you with that disturbing smirk on his face. Chills run down your spine again as your thumb blindly finds its way to your contacts in your phone. You know Charlie’s name is at the very top of your recent calls, ready to be pressed in case of emergencies. “Hello, Gorgeous,” Creepy Guy says, “Noticed your two boy toys left you all by yourself, thought you could use some company.” He’s shuffling closer and closer, his breath hot and foul on your lips as you’re backing away until you feel the wall behind you. You’re frantically looking around for someone to notice and help you. A waitress behind the counter has a phone pressed to her ear, and you’re praying she’s calling the police. “What’s wrong, Angel Face? Are you n--” he’s cut off and pulled away from you all of a sudden. You have to blink your eyes a couple of times before you could properly see again. The whole situation made you black out for a couple of seconds. But now, your eyes land on Charlie, punching Creepy Guy in the face and getting hit a few times in return. For a moment, you’re frozen to the floor. Firstly because seeing Charlie fuming and punching a guy is kind of hot, and secondly because you’ve got no clue what to do. “Charlie,” you finally manage to bring out and place a hand on his shoulder. He turns his head at you, dark and angry eyes softening at the sight of your scared expression. “Let’s go,” you whisper, and grab his hand. “Hey, are you okay?” the waitress asks when you pass her, “I just called the cops, they’re gonna be here soon.” You glance at Charlie, his face all beaten up and bloody from the impact of Creepy Guy’s fist. “They’re gonna want you to make a statement.” “Fine,” you sigh. You wished you could forget about this whole thing quickly, but the girl just wants to help. “Could I get your first aid kit to take care of him first though?” You point at your best friend’s face, and the girl nods her head. “You can do it in here,” she says, beckoning you to follow. She hands you the small box and then leaves the two of you alone as though she knows you need some privacy. You sit Charlie down on the chair and perch yourself on the table next to it whilst going through the first aid kit. It’s silent for a while as you’re cleaning up the cuts on his forehead and cheeks. “Why’d you do that, Charlie?” you mutter, frustrated that his hot-headedness got him into this mess. He hisses as the disinfecting product you’re dabbing on his wounds starts stinging. “I hate seeing you get hurt, Nugget. Seeing that man practically groping you sickened me to my stomach. It hurt me as much as it hurt you, Y/N,” he exhales sharply and grabs your wrist to stop you from undeliberately hurting him some more. “Babe, I need to clean out these wounds,” you grumble, trying to wriggle your hand loose. “I’m fine, Y/N. They’ll heal,” he tells you, though you know those wounds are hurting. “No, Char. They’ll infect if I don’t clean them out properly,” you cup his face on one side, softly rubbing your thumb against his cheek. “You’re gonna have to grin and bear it, baby. Let me take care of you, okay?” His eyes soften as does the grip on your wrist. You continue cleaning up the wounds in silence, only Charlie’s soft hissing filling up your ears. “There you go,” you whisper when you’re finally done, “You’re as good as new.” Charlie offers you a thankful smile, which you return quickly before getting off the table to throw the used gauze into the bin in the corner of the room. When you turn around to return to the table, Charlie’s right behind you, making you jump out of your skin as you didn’t expect him to be this close. “Jeez, Bubba, I didn’t hear you sneak up,” you say in a hushed voice while clutching your heart. He’s staring down at you, his twinkling eyes flicking from yours to your lips and back. “What?” you ask softly. Your brain is going a mile a minute and your heart is pounding out of your chest. Besides hugging him, it’s been a while since you’ve been this close to him. You’d almost forgotten what that did to you. “I just--” he visibly swallows a lump, and then a smile plays at his lips, “Remember that first day we met? When Jade pushed you off that swing?” Though you’re confused as to why he’d bring that up, you can’t help but smile. “I still have a scar on my knee from that fall,” you reply, remembering the day clearly. “I thought you were super sweet to stand up for me. I even found it a little funny when you pushed Jade off the swing in return.” A chuckle escapes from him. “Yeah, Miss Edwards didn’t find it quite as funny,” Charlie adds. “But I knew from that day on that you were gonna be special to me, Y/N. Gossipping at the nurse’s office about who we liked and didn’t like, our mutual love for coca cola lollipops and The Rugrats.... I just knew I never wanted to be friends with anyone else in my life.” Your lips turn up into a tender smile at his sweet words. “But things have changed, haven’t they?” Your smile disappears at this. Where is this going? “I’ve been trying to find the right words to say this, but I could never come up with anything that could even come close to how I’m feeling…” he lets out a shaky breath, his eyes scanning your face for any sign of help. “Charlie… What are you getting at?” you ask, the fear taking over your voice with a quiver. “I might totally ruin our friendship with this, but I have to tell you because it’s driving me crazy…” Your eyebrows furrow, worry growing within you. “Charlie, stop babbling and just tell me what you wanna say! This is kinda nerve-wracking!” you raise your voice a little as a nervous chuckle breaks up the words ever so slightly. “Y/N,” he scoffs, “I’ve been in love with you since we were eighteen, and no, I didn’t get that from a One Direction song, though I’m pretty sure that one would’ve been accurate to sing to you right now. So, I’m just gonna quote that…” Your breath hitches in your throat at his confession. The thing you’ve been so afraid of for years is something that’s been bothering him too. At the exact same time. “Long before we both thought the same thing,” he continues, still in his normal speaking voice until the musician in him comes up. “To be loved or to be in love. And all I can do is say that these arms are made for holding you, oh. I wanna love like you made me feel… When we were eighteen…” He stops singing and looks at you for any sign of reciprocation. You’re frozen to the floor in absolute shock. This is what you’ve been dreaming about for so long and now that it’s finally here, you’re not even saying anything. “Y/N? I-- I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything. I should’ve just kept these feelings to myself. I totally ruined everything now, didn’t I? I--let’s just forget about this whole thing, yeah? Just wake up tomorrow as if nothing ever happened. It’s okay, I--” You finally spring into action. But instead of saying anything, you simply grab him by his shirt and pull him into you, pressing your lips to his in a passionate kiss. He’s startled at first, but quickly melts into your lips and lets his hands find their way to your face. “I’ve been waiting for three years, scared you didn’t feel the same…” you whisper as you pull back, finally having found the words. “We’re both so stupid, Bubba.” He chuckles softly before kissing you again. “We literally could’ve been doing this for three whole years!” you exclaim, shaking your head in disbelief. “Yes, Princess, I know. Now, shut up and kiss me, we’ve got three years of this to catch up on.” A smile tugs at your lips as he removes the remaining space between your lips again. You’re a little too caught up into the kiss, you don’t even notice the knock on the door. “Guys, the--” you break apart, wide eyes staring at the door where the waitress stands with a sheepish smile. “Sorry… The cops are here,” she throws her thumb backwards. “Ugh, right…” you groan, but Charlie takes your hand and leads you out into the sushi bar again. During your statement, he stays with you at all times, holding your hand and watching you closely with a sad smile on his face. He hates the fact you have to go through all of that again as if you didn’t go through enough already. “That’s all we need from you, miss Y/L/N,” the officer says after a while. “You’ll hear from us soon. You can go home now. As for you, mister Gillespie, I’d do something about that anger of yours.” Charlie curtly nods his head before taking you out of the restaurant. The two of you head back home, and once there, you immediately head into the bedroom. There’s a lot of catching up to do from those three lost years. Your friendship has come a long way from the playground.

Taglist: @hannahhistorian92 @marinettepotterandplagg @thequirkybookaholic @bookdealer5 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @hemmingsness @iainttakingshitfromnobody @ifilwtmfc @angryknightstatesmantrash @kiss-themoongoodbye @rudysbay @thedarkqueenofavalon @caitsymichelle13 @calamitykaty @wiselight @parkeret @lukeys-giggle @gingerxarmy @lovesanimals @lolychu @perfectlywrongformend3s @luckylouiebug @camiladelrio98 @myfriendscallmebeans @kcd15

#julie and the phantoms #julie and the himbos #jatp #charlie gillespie #charlie gillespie fic #charlie gillespie x reader #charlie gillespie imagine #charlie gillespie au #Luke Patterson #reggie jatp #jeremy shada #alex jatp #owen joyner #julie molina #madison reyes #18 #One direction

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phoebehalliwell · 3 years ago

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Oh could u do Prue/Micah? S4

okay okay okay so we're doing all hallow's eve in early s3 micah's reincarnation does Not show up at the end of the episode because we're saving him for something bigger. but we'll say that something on a later vanquish a physical item triggers something in prue she's like hey does that remind you of anything?? and piper and phoebe are like ??? no? it's just a(n) [item]? and prue's like really? nothing? and they're like idk what does it remind you of and she's like i don't know... the past? samhain, maybe? do you think it's one of our ancestor's? and piper and phoebe are like prue i don't know can we get out of here??? and she's like yeah yeah but she takes it with her and like. uses her auction house knowledge to like correctly id it back to the time they were in salem (or not maybe idk but if it is from the past she realizes that a) either it was something micah owned or b) it was the knife that killed him. if it's neither of those than it's modern and she can't figure out what about it is calling to her). the plot is kind of dropped. then, we enter s4, the battle with the source is on the horizon cole is. we'll say still on their side, successful relationship with phoebe. cole is the first one to pitch going on the offensive, which prue is first to back, then phoebe, and begrudgingly piper. leo's still not a fan but phoebe gets a premonition of something something darklighter so let's stamp that out before it begins. so they shimmer down with cole to the underworld leo doesn't go with them bc well. a) he can't sense as well down there so he won't really be able to find them if they get separated which leads to b) of they're separated the girls have no way out of hell and as a sidenote c) he's a whitelighter. so if the darklighters get him they Also have no way out of hell. so leo stays topside and cole's their ride. something something something they're closing in on where the clan lives or maybe their weapons forge and there's a darklighter just outside piper blow him up no wait and prue like Jumps in front of her and piper quickly deflects and hits the cavern wall next to them and wants to yell what the hell prue but it's too late because all hell breaks loose the darklighters were there waiting for them the seer foresaw this so they all duck for cover prue throws a couple phoebe karate chops cole energy balls piper blows up em and will occasionally freeze the cavern for a couple seconds but she still doesn't have a hold on her powers, but phoebe while fighting one of them gets a premonition: leo, shot. and over the din she's like it's a diversion, they're gonna kill leo like we have to get to leo but they're all hella spread apart right now so in one of piper's freezes cole gets to phoebe and another the pair get to piper but prue's still to far away she redirects an arrow that nearly hits phoebe in the hed she's like there's no time go!! and they're like no!! but prue just squints at cole and cole understands and shimmers them out of there and we'll say the guy who she initially dove in front of was knocked out by like rocks from piper's blast well he's coming to and see's prue fighting for her life and like. you know just starts to stir and prue spares a glance at him and he recognizes her just like he did in puritan times and he's like ...you saved me and prue looks at him and again connection but she can't find the words to say because she has to get right back to kicking ass, we'll say an arrow flies right past her face like through her hair she ducks down again like can you get us out of here? and he just like barely sits up head cradled in one hand, he's bleeding, but he just nods and places his other on prue's shoulder and black orbs them out and now they're in like a loft in san francisco prue still in fight mode and micah still bleeding from a head wound and he just kind of collapses on the ground and prue's like !!! oh shit.

back @ the manor leo's just been shot and piper's running over like help me get him to the attic i'll swap our powers you guys get out of the house so you're not affected go get prue and leo's like ??? go get her and cole's like she's still with the darklighters and leo's like no she's topside she's in the city and they're all like how??? and piper's like who gives a shit how help me get him to the attic then give me some space so phoebe and cole wait in the outside lil backyard type thing they have maybe we get a phole scene piper swaps powers and heals leo but he's still weak and piper hear's prue's call and leo's like go i'm still too weak to heal and piper's i'm not leaving you not while they're out there and leo's like hey don't worry you're still with me right ad blows up idk a lamp and piper just kind of smiles like okay but if you're gonna blow anything else up try to hit that vase because i've always hated it

piper goes downstairs gets phoebe and cole like okay let's go get prue and she orbs them all out into this loft where prue has got this guy slumped over his table pressing a damp towel to his head but jesus that's a lot of blood and she's like leo thank g- where's leo and piper's like he's resting he was shot so i had to tap in. and prue's like you can heal? and piper's like uh huh and prue's like okay great heal him and piper moves forward and then stops because prue is that the darklighter? and prue's like yes but you don't understand and piper's like what part of healing a Darklighter don't i understand prue when they Just tried to kill my husband now you're trying to save him and prue's like come on doesn't he look familiar to you and piper's looking at him like ew bc she can hardly see past the bloodcovered face but phoebe wanders forward and cole instinctively tries to hold her back bc Evil but she just kind of shakes him off bc she knows what she's doing and cole relents and she puts a hand up to his shoulder and she's like it is him. and prue's lookin like exactly! and piper's like who??? and prue's like micah and he stirs at the sound of his own name and piper's like Who??? and prue's like don't you remember he saved our necks--literally--multiple times; he died for us and it's clicking piper's like In Puritan Times??? and cole kinda blanches bc he Might have killed that guy i can't remember and prue's like piper for the amount of times he's saved us, please, just heal him and piper's like you get that that was centuries ago right? a lot changes in a couple hundred years; he's a darklighter now and prue's like piper. please. and piper relents bc what can she say she trusts prue. and micah comes to and sees cole and stumbles back like hits the ground again and prue's like no no it's okay and he looks at her and it's like we can see his world fade around him and just focus on prue and his hand flies up to his head and finds no blood and prue's like it's okay, you're healed and micah's like so that'd be the second time you've saved my neck today? and prue's like consider it returning the favor and piper's like okay well I'm breaking up the balcony scene this time how did the darklighters know we were coming? and micah's like this woman. she visited us and said you were coming, you were leaving your whitelighter vulnerable... and they're like what woman and cole's like the seer. and micah just nods and he's like i've read about you, you know, what you've done, i was hoping i could get away to warn you before... and piper's like Why. Why would you betray your own people and micah's like because i can see what dark magic can do... and it can't be undone [to later be revealed tragic backstory!! micah was raised by his mother topside or maybe his father and we get a complex darklighter situation with his mom potentially even having her defect but no matter when micah was like. idk twelve or something?? there was this bully in school and we're trying to stay with charmed morality and justify this so we'll say this kid was like serial killer bad killed puppies for fun type bad and he was a bully and micah was standing up to him #feminism when they got into a fight and micah was losing like Really losing like about to be beat to death at age twelve losing when his hand started glowing red and he shoved it against the bully and next the you know that kid was fucking dead. micah had killed a guy before he had even gone through puberty. oof. anyways top ten defining moments tried existing on the dl but has also killed a couple other people and we'll keep them Bad murderers and rapists but it's still like you end up in a bar fight and then the next thing you know that guy is dead and it doesn't matter what a cunt he was it doesn't matter than you didn't mean to do it you just have a power you don't know how to control no all that matters is you're getting manslaughter at best unless you go with this man who claims to be your uncle who can teleport like you who has the same deathtouch who can teach you to control your power].

blah blah blah plot progression all that prue and micah fall in love relatively quickly because they can feel that tug in their souls (SIDE TANGENT: i've already said before i like wyatt as a reincarnation of melinda warren but what if prue was Also a reincarnation of melinda warren, ipso facto wyatt is also prue reincarnated retconning why they can't summon her spirit. 👀?) but but BUT the seer foresaw this she new micah would turn to the side of good so she planted something that blew up in a metaphorical sense so now they don't know if they can trust micah prue wants to trust him but she doesn't want to put her family in danger if he really is in league with the source phoebe is advocating for her to follow her heart and piper is Hard No against micah like even before like she really didn't want him around before this bomb dropped even more so now and prue's like okay what's your beef and piper's like he's not safe to have around prue he's a damn darklighter and prue's like you know you keep like using that against him leo doesn't even care why are you so hung up on this and piper's like leo's safety isn't the only one at risk here!! and prue's like what you have some secret whitelighter you haven't told us about?? and piper is just silent and stubborn and prue's still in fight stance until it clicks and she's like piper... and piper's like still not talking and prue's like piper,,, are you pregnant? and piper's like no you know what i shouldn't even have said anything forget you even heard anything and prue's like ???? piper this is great news why why didn't you tell us and tries to hug her and piper just ducks away and prue's like heart is breaking watching her like this because piper's like really maternal she'd be a great mom so why isn't she happy and piper just looks at prue like : ( i didn't tell you because this isn't the first time this has happened. and prue's like ??? and piper's like towards the end of s3,,, i thought i was. well, no. i was pregnant. and, um. i was scared, because of all the demon fighting and everything, but i was excited prue i was so excited to be a mom and then a couple weeks later,,, and gets all choked up and prue just pulls her into a really big hug like sweetie why didn't you tell us and piper's just crying like i don't know we already have so much with the source and with the fighting every day,, i didn't want you guys to feel like i did, you're already going through so much and prue's like honey You're Going Through So Much and just know we're always here for you forget the source and his sorry ass forget the seer nothing's more important that you okay nothing's more important and piper's just okay okay : ((((.

so anyways we vanquish the source for the midseason finale but now we have the seer the real mastermind as the s4b villain and she's got her eyes set on a great prized: a prophesied baby. in one episode prue and micah get knocked back into a past life regression where they keep slipping back further and further in time and they keep finding each other in each life but they need to get out of here and piper leo phoebe cole are on the outside trying to get them out because if they reach their first life their life where their soul was new and slip back further, there's no way to bring them back after that we're not killing prue lol but what that really does is just cements prue and micah's place together like In Every Life they had each other in one form or another they were always destined to find each other....... fin <3

#charmed #prue x micah #it's funny bc i could have sworn i did darklighter micah before i just couldn't find the post anywhere so maybe i did Not #prue halliwell #piper halliwell #micah #margaretsminiessays #💌

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weirdsixtieslove · 4 years ago

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start up thoughts

Now to start off I wanna say i watched this drama because of nam joo hyuk, more specifically to see nam joo hyuk together with suzy, i’ve literally been looking forward to this for like half a year. However as the episodes went on i gotta say i found jipyeong to be by far the most interesting character, the second male lead (and a lot of other storylines) seriously outshined the lovestory of the main couple.

But I’m not saying that jipyeong should’ve ended up with dalmi. I rooted for him but she admittedly had zero romantic feelings for him. His role as her mentor, as an older brother, honestly suited him better. However it still made no sense for her to not even give him a chance. Because listen. This girl spent her entire live longing for the guy from the letters and then she finds out it’s him and she just…does nothing? You’re telling me after all this time, after telling dosan she loves him for all the things that jipyeong actually did, she doesn’t even wanna give it a try, not even when dosan went to the US? Now look, it is absolutely possible for her to not be in love with him. Maybe she realised her love was more of an idolisation of someone who comforted her when she was struggling. Maybe she realised that although he has all the qualities she liked, there’s no guarantee we fall in love with someone just because they’re technically who we asked for. Those would have been valid reasons and would have worked well in combination with the whole "Idk why I love you I just do" part when dosan asked her at the end because that's really just how it is sometimes. But this needed to be COMMUNICATED. This needed to be TALKED ABOUT. Yet it was never addressed, dalmi doesn’t care and that’s just it. It’s frustrating, we needed an honest conversation between them where she talks about her feelings, what he meant to her in the past, what he means to her now, and why this changed. But we never got that.

For me jipyeong’s ending is bittersweet. I liked that he did kinda become part of dalmi’s family and that he decided to support the orphan pair up organisation. I think objectively this is what he needed the most, but he himself never seemed to come to this conclusion, loving dalmi until the end, which made this so heartbreaking. Was it really so hard to have him get over dalmi one or two episodes earlier, or hint at him getting a different love interest?

As for dosan, I honestly think that jipyeong’s character was just way better developed. He changed a lot after the first few episodes which is a shame because he lost a bit of his charm from the beginning. He developed these weird confidence issues towards jipyeong, like saying dalmi will choose him even without the letters but also that he has nothing and jipyeong (a guy with zero family or friends who had to work hella hard to be where he is now) has everything, then he beat him up after jipyeong was literally asked to be honest about that contract (seriously that was so random and uncalled for) and then he refused to return the letters that were always jipyeongs. His character was just kind of all over the place and i guess it can be explained by jealousy and immaturity, which doesn’t make him a terrible character, if it wasn’t for jipyeong it would have been alright, but with the second male lead just having the way more interesting personality and storyline going on, it did make dosan’s behavior become a bit annoying. Especially considering that without jipyeong, dosan would’ve probably never met dalmi and would’ve already had his technology stolen by these fake investors in the beginning.

It was also a bit weird how jipyeong’s harsh feedback was seen as such a big deal, despite always giving valuable advice. Yet when he did end up thinking that he was too harsh both the female mentor and dalmi herself said that he didn’t do anything wrong, so what was the point here?

Now as for dalmi’s mom and sister: i was really pissed how injae and the mom just abandoned dalmi. I mean is no one questioning why the mom didn’t even tell her that she re-married? That she was gonna move to a different continent? And then the dad died and they still didn’t bother to be there for her?? hello??

Both the mom and injae redeemed themselves at the end but what was severely lacking was an honest conversation with dalmi, apologizing and saying they will try their hardest to make it up to her. Especially her relationship with her sister was really confusing, like right after that time jump they had worked together for three years already and clearly didn’t hate each other anymore but at the same time injae didn't even know that her grandma had gone blind. At the very end, dalmi's conflict with her sister and mom are resolved, without ever getting enough scenes that actually show *how* it was resolved so it feels a bit incomplete.

To sum up, what this drama was lacking the most were additional scenes of characters addressing their past and talking about their feelings, as a lot of conclusions kind of came out of nowhere because they weren’t properly addressed.

Actually, since i’m already at it, i would like to propose this alternative storyline: Jipyeong never falls in love with dalmi. When dalmi finds out the letters were written by him, she’s torn between both. When dosan goes to the US, dalmi asks jipyeong to give their relationship a try and they’re dating for a while, but eventually realise it’s not working, so they remain close friends and he’s welcomed into their family. When dosan comes back he and and jipyeong become friends because they have no reason not to. Dosan and dalmi get back together. the end.

Anyways despite everything i just said, i quite enjoyed this drama. Not perfect, but very enjoyable nonetheless, thanks to an amazing cast and a lot of funny and heartwarming scenes.

#start up #i know i kept complaining the entire time but i geniuenly liked it it just became a bit hard to watch when i got too attached to jipyeong #this is so damn long ugh i'm sorry #i have so much more to say but this was the most important i guess and i just wanted to get it off my chest and move on #won injae #nam dosan #seo dalmi #han jipyeong #start up drama #start up kdrama #suzy #nam joo hyuk #kim seonho #bae suzy #kim seon ho #kdrama #teamjipyeong #teamdosan

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inthedayswhenlandswerefew · 5 years ago

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Eccentricity [Chapter 5: I’ve Lived The Life And Paid For Every Crime]

Series Summary: Joe Mazzello is a nice guy with a weird family. A VERY weird family. They have a secret, and you have a choice to make. Potentially a better love story than Twilight.

Chapter Title Is A Lyric From: Some Kind Of Disaster by All Time Low.

Chapter Warnings: Language, references to drugs and violence.

Other Chapters (And All My Writing) Available: HERE

Tagging: @queen-turtle-boiii @bramblesforbreakfast @writerxinthedark @maggieroseevans @culturefiendtrashqueen @imnotvibingveryguccimrstark @escabell @im-an-adult-ish @someforeigntragedy @imtheinvisiblequeen @deacyblues @tensecondvacation @brianssixpence @seven-seas-of-ham-on-rhye @some-major-ishues @haileymorelikestupid @loveandbeloved29

Please yell at me if I forget to tag you! 💜

Easy Questions, Evasive Answers

“So it was nothing,” Archer said, glancing up from where he was tinkering around beneath the hood of my 1999 Honda Accord, checking hoses and belts and dipsticks. “This is pathetic, by the way. That you can’t change your own windshield wiper fluid. Dishonor on you. Dishonor on your cow.”

“I never had my own car in Phoenix!” I objected around a mouthful of a Starbucks pumpkin muffin, my first of the season. And that was true: Renee and I couldn’t afford one. “I didn’t have to learn about car things!”

“No, it’s great, I love it, I have a customer for life.”

“It was totally nothing,” I told him. Meaning the photograph in the newspaper article from 1979. Meaning my paranoia surrounding beautiful, brooding, certifiably lethal Benjamin Lee.

Not Lee, I reminded myself. Benjamin August Hardy, born November 3rd 1893.

“Was it really?” Archer asked, skeptical.

“Uhhh, you were the one who was making fun of me for thinking he might be a time traveler. Or a bigfoot.” Or a vampire.

“Yeah, okay, true...” He let the hood of the Honda fall shut with a bang, then wiped the muddy streaks of motor oil from his hands with a stained rag. “But you were freaked out. Like super freaked out.”

“I was, yeah. But it wasn’t him in the photo. I took another look, there were freckles and, uh, like, uh, some other things that didn’t match up.”

“Huh.” Archer watched me with an expression I couldn’t read. “I didn’t notice that.”

“Ben laughed about it. Probably thinks I’m an idiot. A stalker and an idiot.”

Archer smirked slyly. “He must not have held it against you too much. I’ve never seen that guy laugh in my life.”

I took a moody bite of my muffin, rolled my eyes, feigned shallow schoolgirl angst. “Trust me, he’s not my biggest fan.”

“Ohhhh, and this bothers you?” Archer sauntered over and stole a crumbling hunk out of the pumpkin muffin. “Does someone have a little crush on the gorgeous, grouchiest Lee?”

“Definitely not.” I sipped my chai latte, contemplative, debating telling him more.

“Uh oh. There’s something else, I can see it. Spill the tea, you walking college-chick-who’s-obsessed-with-fall stereotype.”

“I’m so excited! I’m going to get to see changing leaves this year!” Cacti are majestic, ancient, intrepid, and they remind me of home; but they never change. They’re like desert earth that way, like the ocean. Like vampires, actually.

“We’ll have to do all the Instagram-worthy stuff. Pumpkin patches. Hay mazes. Apple picking...you can even bring that Ben guy if you want to. If he promises not to murder me with his mysterious time-travelling demon powers.”

Oh, kid, you have no idea. “So...I am kind of into a Lee guy. But it’s not Ben.”

Archer gasped, inhaled pumpkin muffin morsels, bent over as he hacked them out of his lungs. “Who?!” he rasped, scandalized, and then coughed again.

I couldn’t help but smile as his name spilled out: “Joe.”

“Which one is that? The Middle Eastern Men’s Vogue model one?”

I laughed, shaking my head. “No, not Rami. He has a girlfriend, by the way.” And has for the past half a century.

Archer wiggled his eyebrows. “Just because there’s a goalie doesn’t mean you can’t score.”

“Oh my god, please never say that phrase again.”

“Joe is the...” He closed his eyes as he drummed his fingers against the metal workbench, trying to remember.

“The Italian one,” I finished for him.

“Ahhh. The annoying one.”

“He is not annoying! Why do people keep saying he’s annoying?! He’s hilarious, and sweet, and lowkey wicked smart, and, and, and...”

Archer whistled, grinning, his dark eyes sparkling. “Damn, girl. You do like him. You really like him.”

I sighed in defeat. “Okay. I really, really like him.”

“Like him as in would swipe right on Tinder, or like him as in you want to get married and honeymoon in Hawaii and have twelve pasty, angular babies?”

“Oh wow.” And for the first time, I was confronted with the singular enigma that was a future with Joe. Vampires had relationships with other vampires, obviously, even marriages; but that didn’t mean the same rules applied to humans. Did he like me? Could he like me? What would that even look like? How would it end? And it would have to end, of course, eventually. Unless somehow I stopped aging too. “More than just a right swipe. We’ll see about the twelve kids.”

“Just make sure he wraps it before he taps it. I’m too young to be an uncle.”

“Stop,” I pleaded, gulping down my latte, averting my gaze across Archer’s small garage filled with customers’ vehicles, pretending not to be intrigued and yearning and petrified. I couldn’t imagine hooking up with someone as faultless and—presumably—experienced as Joe and being anything but a disappointment. I’ve never hooked up with anyone. At all. Ever.

“What?” he asked, concerned, thieving another piece of my pumpkin muffin. Powdered sugar dusted his fingers like the snow I’ve only seen two or three times in my life.

“Nothing. I just really wish you went to Calawah too.”

“And give up all this easy money from clueless suburbs people like you?” Archer beamed, wily and proud and affectionate. “Not a fucking chance.”

No More Sad Spaghetti

Joe gawked in horror, chomping noisily on his Big League Chew bubblegum, as I unwrapped the peanut butter sandwich I’d packed for lunch. It was mostly cloudy in the early September sky overhead, but he was still wearing sunglasses. He had traded in his ubiquitous U Chicago apparel for a Cubs t-shirt. Squirrels scurried through the bigleaf maple trees that dotted the campus, snatching up acorns with tiny clawed paws, wriggling whiskered noses in our direction.

“What’s your problem?” I asked, taking a bite. “It’s not sad spaghetti.”

He blew a small pink bubble, then popped it with his teeth. “Yeah, but it’s...like...mangled.”

“It got trapped between my textbooks!” I protested. Admittedly, the accordion-shaped peanut butter sandwich—my vegetarian alternative to fishstick Thursday—kind of sucked.

“You can’t eat that. Oh my god. It’s making me so sad. Give it to the squirrels.” Joe pulled out his iPhone. “What’s your preferred pizza topping?”

“I can’t tell you,” I replied, tossing my sandwich towards the nearest tree. A hoard of squirrels immediately descended upon it and proceeded to battle for dominance, emitting shrill, peanut-butter-crazed shrieks.

His brow furrowed. “Why can’t you tell me?”

“Because you might not like me anymore.”

“Why would I not like you because of pizza...?” And then he knew. “Oh no, oh god, please don’t say pineapple.”

“I’m a pineapple pizza person.”

“Baby Swan,” Joe said, deadly serious, pressing his palms together. “That is straight up sacrilegious. You can’t put tropical fruit on a pizza. You realize I’m Italian, like an actual Italian. I’m so Italian I’ve killed other Italians for being the wrong kind of Italian. That’s how Italian I am.”

“I feel like maybe I shouldn’t socialize with literal mobsters. It’s unsavory.”

“Settle down, I’m ordering the half-pineapple pizza, you freaking barbarian.”

I watched Joe as he tapped his thumbs against the screen, humming to himself, amused, perpetually buoyant. And I couldn’t picture him as a monster, as a killer: pulling triggers, slitting throats, digging blades into soft vulnerable love handles, feeling for the mortal puncture of a lung or kidney. I asked him, my voice quiet, hesitant, almost lost in the autumn wind: “Did you actually hurt people?”

“Nah. I didn’t have the stomach for it, even back then. I was on the deal-making side of things. The business side. I was a people person, a smooth talker, astronomically charming.”

I smiled, mischievous. “That’s difficult to imagine.”

“Okay, so no cheesy breadsticks for you.”

“I’m sorry, mob guy. Please order the breadsticks. You’re so charming I can’t stand it. My jeans are unzipping all by themselves.”

He raised an eyebrow and grinned. “So you’ll sacrifice your dignity for breadsticks. Good to know.” He finished typing and laid his iPhone on the grass. “Alright, next question.”

“Does your hair grow?” Joe’s hair—I couldn’t help but notice—seemed longer than it was the day I met him a week and a half ago, disorderly and auburn-tinted, ruffling in the breeze.

“It does, yeah. Hair and nails still grow. So you have to shave, but you can’t get razor burn. And any nicks close right up.”

“Very cool. How often do you need to eat? You know...actually eat.”

“It varies, but generally twice a week.”

“And what kind of animal has the tastiest blood? Besides...well...” I gestured towards myself. “The upright two-legged kind with opposable thumbs and a partiality for pineapple pizza.”

He blew another bubble, then leaned in towards me. And I realized, for the first time, that he had his own inherent, exclusive, totally Bath-And-Body-Works-worthy scent as well; Dr. Gwilym Lee was sandalwood and campfires and log cabins, Mercy was roses and vanilla...and Joe was pine trees, peppermint, cold night air, like all of that eternally youthful magic of Christmas Eve sieved into a bottle. I popped the sheer pink bubble with the cap of my blue pen. Joe asked: “Do humans like chocolate or vanilla ice cream? Coffee or tea? Baseball or something hella lame?”

“Depends on the human.”

“Exactly. Same deal for vampires. I prefer bears, especially grizzlies. Lucy and Mercy like deer, elk, moose, animals like that. Ones with hooves. Weirdly, Rami’s favorite is crocodile, I think because it was the first thing he ever tried in Egypt. He doesn’t get it very often, but has been known to buy them on the black market on occasion. Scarlett likes mountain lions. Also domestic cats, but you didn’t hear that from me. Gwil is a wolf guy, but he won’t kill the endangered kinds. Such a gentleman.”

“How about Ben?”

“Ben’s still coming around to the whole eating animals thing. I don’t think he has a favorite yet.”

Joe isn’t a killer, and he never was; I could believe that. But Ben... “Why is he so different than the rest of you?”

“That’s...kind of a long story,” Joe replied carefully.

“It wouldn’t be such a long story if people stopped talking about how it’s a long story and actually told it to me.”

He flashed a grin, revealing white canine teeth filed into points; they were subtle, yes, but they were there. Fangs. I envisioned pressing a fingerprint against them and feeling the flesh split in two, the blood dripping down onto his tongue like Washington rain. And unlike Joe’s skin, mine wouldn’t knit back together on its own. “But then I wouldn’t have the pleasure of tormenting you with the prospect of incredibly juicy yet confidential information!”

I rolled my eyes, sipped my can of Diet Coke, returned my attention to our lunch plans. “So garlic doesn’t repel you. That part of the lore is completely made up.”

“Yup. Thank god. Eternal life would be worthless without pizza.”

“Can you do drugs? Get drunk?”

“We can’t overdose, but we can get the effects of anything we consume. It’s not a good habit to get into though. If you’re nodding on heroin for like four days at a time, it’s pretty easy for some other vampire to find and murder you.”

“So a vampire can be killed by another vampire.”

“Absolutely. Next question.”

I consulted my mental list. “Do you sleep?”

“Yeah. Well, kind of. We nap for a few hours a day.”

“What happens if you don’t?”

“We get bitchy. Really bitchy. We essentially turn into Ben.”

I laughed, chewing absentmindedly on the end of my pen. “So that’s his problem. He hasn’t napped in a century. Now it all makes sense.”

“Something like that,” Joe said. “You gonna come over tonight?”

“I don’t know. I’m supposed to present The Walruses And Me tomorrow and I still haven’t started the book.”

“What do you know, I can tell you all about The Walruses And Me!”

“Seriously? You’ve read it?”

“No, but I can enthusiastically narrate the Wikipedia article to you while you pet Mercy’s alpacas.”

“That sounds like a terrible idea.”

“Terrible for your grade in Marine Mammals. Good for your development as an interesting and happy human.”

“Nice try, but I’m already both of those things.”

Joe reached out suddenly, jarringly, and ran the back of his hand across my cheek. My favorite Lee, I thought, thoroughly transfixed but trying to hide it. Oh no. “Interesting, definitely. But I have this gnawing, distressing suspicion that you’re still working on the happy part.”

“I miss the desert,” I confessed. That wasn’t quite all of the problem, but it was accurate: I missed the heat, the sun, the parched prehistoric air I had always called home. Although I was beginning to find reasons to like Forks, Charlie and Archer and the promise of a Pacific Northwestern autumn; and then one big reason in particular. A very old, pale, chatty, Italian reason.

“A bit of a quandary for a future marine biologist,” he replied gently, perhaps apprehensively.

“I always figured I’d live somewhere like San Diego or Los Angeles or Galveston. Someplace on the ocean, but also sunny and hot and with palm trees. The best of both worlds. But you couldn’t go there with me, could you?”

Oh no.

Oh NO.

Oh fuck, this is definitely a crushing-on-Lee-boys zone.

Joe stared at me through his sunglasses, chomping on his Big League Chew, the corners of his mouth turned up and etching lines like parentheses into his face, pleased and nodding slowly and triumphant somehow. Then he struck out his hand again, this time with his pinky raised like a flagpole. “No more pathetic depressing lunches.”

“You got it. No more sad spaghetti. No more sad peanut butter sandwiches. You have my solemn, human vow.”

He smiled as his pinky entwined with mine. “No more sad anything.”

“So this vampire thing sounds like a pretty sweet gig. No dying, no consequences for a hellacious diet or wild condomless orgies, literal superpowers, perfect hair...why doesn’t everyone get to live that way?”

He shrugged; and there was an unfamiliar, meditative tension in his face. Almost sorrow. “It’s not all pizza and orgies and heroin. We have weaknesses too.”

“Like what?”

“Hey, look!” Joe piped cheerfully, twisting around towards the parking lot. “I think our GrubHub guy is here.”

Bad Blood

I was definitely regretting that fourth slice of pineapple pizza as I waddled into Chemistry, navigating sluggishly around the hulking frat boys and giggling sorority girls and mousy bookish types who lugged around colossal backpacks that were always threatening to knock an unsuspecting passerby off their feet at each unthinking turn. But while I was arriving in the classroom—physically, anyway; emotionally I was standing in an empty field somewhere screaming I cannot be falling in love with a hundred-year-old mobster vampire!! into the void—Ben was a countercurrent darting through the crowds and towards the hallway door.

“Where are you rushing off to, old guy?” I asked him. “Bingo? To renew your AARP membership? To walk vigorously around the inside of a mall?”

Ben responded in that deep, low, humorless voice. “They’re doing some kind of blood typing experiment today. I probably shouldn’t be around for that.”

“Oh.” I glanced over at Professor Belvin, who was indeed hunched over the table at the front of the classroom and laying out rows of Q-tips and rectangular paper cards and alcohol swabs and bottles of clear liquid, whistling what sounded like Time Of The Season.

Ben sighed irritably, rubbing his crinkled forehead. “I already used up all my absences. I’m gonna have to make up a compelling last-minute tragedy. Tell Professor Belvin my grandma died or something.”

“I mean, technically, she did at some point.”

“Ugh,” Ben replied, not consoled at all.

“Wait, I got this.”

I gripped my belly, sank into the nearest chair, and groaned dramatically. It really didn’t require all that much acting. Ben watched with huge green eyes, confounded.

“Miss Swan!” Professor Belvin cried, rushing over. He was wearing khaki pants, a white shirt, and suspenders and a matching bowtie patterned with bubbling multicolored test tubes. Belvin had been Charlie’s classmate from kindergarten through high school, and still palled around with him over Bud Lights and low-quality nachos on bowling league nights. Bowling was, evidently, the sport of choice for middle-aged Forks dads. Also for Welsh vampire pseudo-dads born in the 1400s.

I whimpered in reply.

“Are you alright, Miss Swan?” Professor Belvin asked worriedly. A few students had begun to congregate around the scene. I felt a pang of genuine nausea as perspiration beaded at my temples. You better appreciate this, Mr. Hardy.

“I’m okay,” I said, in my most pained and martyrish voice. “I don’t want to miss...today’s lesson...it looks so fascinating...but I didn’t wash my kale thoroughly last night and then I had a salad for dinner and now I might have food poisoning.”

“You poor thing!” Belvin exclaimed, shaking his head. “Don’t worry about class. You can just answer some textbook questions or something, no problem. Please go get checked out to make sure you’re alright.”

“Could someone...maybe...help me get to the campus clinic...?” My eyes listed towards Ben. “Maybe...my lab partner?”

“That’s a good idea.” Professor Belvin turned to Ben. “Mr. Lee, would you be willing to escort Miss Swan to the clinic? You can do an alternative assignment as well. If you don’t mind missing the blood typing lab.”

“I’d be delighted to help,” Ben responded, still puzzled. I offered him my hand, and Ben took it, grimacing as he led me out into the hallway. As soon as we were alone, he dropped my hand and opened up several feet of space between us.

“Thanks so much, Miss Swan, you are a lifesaver,” I said, imitating his morose, rumbling British accent. “Oh, you’re very welcome, Ben. You can repay me in basic courteous conversation and Starbucks gift cards and by maybe not killing me.”

“So you’re totally fine?” Ben asked flatly.

“Of course. Nobody with taste eats raw kale.”

Frowning, frustrated, he started puffing on his vape pen. “You need to stop doing nice things for me. It’s extremely disorienting.”

“This may be difficult for you to come to terms with, but you, Ben Hardy, are worth being the recipient of nice things.”

“No, you still don’t get it,” he snapped, grabbing my wrist, spinning me around to face him in the empty hallway. “That’s all I’ve ever done. Kill people like you.”

The Fire

“Who is the cutest little alpaca I’ve ever seen?!” I cooed in a squeaky falsetto, scratching her wooly brown chin. “Who’s going to come home and live with me and Charlie forever?!”

“That’s illegal, ma’am.” Joe was watching me, arms crossed over his Chicago Cubs t-shirt, smiling wistfully.

“It is not!”

“It actually is,” Rami added. He was lying on the grass and gazing up into the roiling, grey, late-afternoon clouds with his fingers laced behind his black hair. None of the Lees were wearing sunglasses now. “A house has to be zoned as farmland to have alpacas, which ours is. Yours, tragically, is not.”

“What are you, a lawyer?” I shot back.

Rami grinned. “I was once. And I will be again, in approximately...let me count...five years.”

“That’s what you want to do with your boundless time and energy? Be a corporate shill?”

Joe cackled. “He tried that already. It lasted about five minutes.”

“Manhattan in the 1980s,” Rami reminisced dreamily. “Hundred-hour workweeks. Cocaine everywhere. What a time to be alive. And I hardly ever left the office, so the sunlight thing wasn’t a problem.”

“Okay, so you’re not in it for the Maseratis or the drugs...”

“I’m going to be an immigration attorney,” Rami told me. “Help refugees apply for asylum to come to the United States. Arabic-speaking refugees, in particular.”

“Wow. I stand corrected. That’s wonderful, Rami. I now feel like a total tool for only aspiring to save sea turtles.” But it made sense, of course. What would any good person spend eternity doing? Making the world just a tiny bit better. I glanced at Joe, teasing him. “And you just study how to get rich, huh?”

“I’m a venture capitalist,” he said brightly. “I invest in small businesses, counsel them, encourage them, connect them with other people in the industry, help them grow. And I don’t need the money, so I take a practically microscopic equity stake. I’m basically a professional charitable donor.”

“And you get to put all of those charming mob-guy skills to use.”

Joe winked. “Exactly.”

“Doesn’t it get old?” I asked both of them. “Being college students?”

Rami shrugged. “No really. The world changes, schools of thought evolve, our own interests fluctuate. Every few decades we circle back and go for another round, fresh degrees, maybe new professions entirely. You learn something new every time.”

“And I’ve been waiting for all my old professors to die so I could go back to U Chicago for fifty years!” Joe shouted. “I’m fucking pumped!”

“But...don’t you already know everything...?”

Joe chuckled. “We’re vampires, Baby Swan, we’re not prodigies. We’re sharper than the average person, sure. But it still takes effort to learn. And we all have things we suck at.”

“Like not being obnoxious,” Rami said, nodding to Joe.

“Like not minding our own fucking business,” Joe hurled back.

“I cannot control the fact that I’m a literal mind reader—”

“You boys behave yourselves,” Mercy called in her relaxed, drawling Southern accent, swinging a basket of carrots and zucchinis and cabbages that she’d dug out of her garden, wearing a long flowing yellow dress and her hair tied up in a scarf. She plodded over in her bare feet, handed me a few carrots, then pointed to the chocolate-colored alpaca I was petting. “That lady there is Athens. And the black and white one by Joe is Augusta. Then there’s Norcross, and Alpharetta, and Savannah...and that real chubby grey one heading into the barn is Marietta.”

“I adore them,” I replied, beaming. Mercy had sheep and pigs and a couple of cows too, all ambling contently around the emerald green field as the first threads of fiery, rust-hued sunset were lighting up the horizon.

“We used to have ducks, too,” Mercy mused. “But they disappeared recently...”

Rami passed Joe a knowing smirk. Joe mouthed back menacingly: Do not.

“Hey mom,” Rami piped.

Joe jabbed an index finger at him. “No, don’t you dare, don’t you fucking dare—”

“Joe ate the ducks.”

“You bitch!” Joe cried.

“Oh, Joseph,” Mercy sighed mournfully, lifting a brush out of her basket and dragging it down Athens’ fuzzy back.

“I’m sorry! It was one time! I was weak!”

“I’m not angry, sweetheart,” Mercy said. “I’m just disappointed.”

“Mom, that’s worse!”

Rami climbed to his feet and swatted grass and leaves off his cardigan sweater. “Alright folks. My work here is done. Peace out.”

“Oh no, you don’t get to do a hit and run like that, hey, Rami, hey, hey, come back here!”

Joe trotted after him, shouting a litany of insults, as Rami laughed hysterically and careened into the house. Lucy and Gwil were in the kitchen baking chocolate chip cookies; Scarlett was in the garage changing the brakes on Ben’s Vantage; Ben was noticeably absent from the Lee household and presumably out hunting. It was remarkably easy to picture his fingers closing around bloodied flesh, a wolf’s or a bear’s or an elk’s, lowering his fangs to a pulsing jugular.

“So you’re really into this whole farming thing,” I said to Mercy, looking out over the field rimmed by towering western hemlock trees. I didn’t know exactly how many acres of land the Lees owned, but it was a lot. Mercy adopted rescue animals, donated vegetables from the garden to local food pantries, and occasionally rented out the barn as a wedding venue.

“I’ve always loved it. I had a farm, you know. Before I met Gwil.”

Before she died.

“I didn’t know that,” I murmured, wanting to learn more, afraid to ask, never meaning to pry or offend. “I remember you mentioned the Civil War, and a barn...being...well...being trapped in it. When it burned down.”

Mercy nodded thoughtfully. “Yes, that’s the polite version of the story, isn’t it?” She set down her basket in the tall grass, tugged distractedly at a dark strand of hair that had escaped her scarf, stared glassily out into the sunset muted with cloud cover as Athens moseyed away. “Do you want to know what happened? I’ll tell you if you do. But I don’t want to upset you, dear.”

My voice was barely a whisper. “I’d like to know.”

“We had a little farm out in the middle of nowhere,” Mercy explained. “My husband Arthur and I.”

And it felt so outlandish to hear her say those words. Husband. She had a husband before Gwil. She had a whole life before this one.

“He had a bullet in one leg and a limp from a hunting accident when he was a boy, so he was never called up to enlist. It was a rich man’s war, but it was the poor men they sent to die in it. That’s how it always goes, I expect. And how it always will. We had two daughters, twelve and fifteen. I won’t tell you their names. Don’t take that personally, dear. I haven’t spoken their names in a hundred and fifty years.”

She turned her murky eyes—like homemade bread crust or coffee or the wood walls of a log cabin—to me.

“When the Union Army came through, they were beasts. Men like that...men who have been killing and looting and burning their way across hundreds of miles...all they want to do is get blood on their hands. That’s all they remember how to do. So that’s exactly what they did. They slaughtered our cattle for meat. They burned the house down. And then they took me and my girls, and they...they...well, you know what they did. What men do when they’re monsters. And when Arthur tried to stop them, they shot him in the chest and spit mouthfuls of chewing tobacco on him as he bled out in the dirt. Called him a coward and a deserter. Told him everything they were planning to do to me and my girls. And when they were done doing all of those things, they locked the three of us in the barn and set it ablaze. I was the only one still alive when Gwilym got there. And believe me, I didn’t want to be.”

“I’m so sorry,” I breathed, my throat burning for Mercy, for her family, for this divinely kind and benign and tender woman.

She patted my cheek fondly. “It’s alright, sweetheart. It’s not your fault. I got a second chance. Gwilym gave me a second chance. That’s what he does, you know. He finds broken people, fixes them, loves them fiercely. He gave me forever. Two more daughters. And three sons.”

Three sons, I thought. Rami and Joe and Ben. She counted Ben.

“Does someone have to be dying?” I asked her softly. “You know. To become like you.”

“No, honey. That’s just how Gwil does things.”

“But...why? What’s the possible downside? Why not change anyone who wants it?” Why not change someone like me?

And Mercy peered over at me, contemplative, curious, like tiptoeing gingerly over rotted floorboards, like weaving through a minefield. Like she was trying to figure out what I’d already been told.

“Hey Baby Swan,” Joe said, startling me. I whirled to see him waiting with a patient smile and his hands buried in his pockets. “Come on. I want to show you something.”

He led me upstairs to Gwil’s 1960s-style office, where Dr. Lee had cleaned and stitched the tiny gash in my forehead after my misadventure with Ben in the woods outside Calawah University, where the wall above the sturdy oak desk was adorned with a massive painting filled with gorgeous, unfamiliar, inhuman faces. Joe took a deep breath, and then he began.

“This,” he announced, introducing the painting, “is the vampire version of the mob. They can trace their existence back to before the Roman Empire. They find people who they think have potential, have talents. They turn them. And then they offer them a hundred-year contract. You sign it, or they murder you. When your term is up, you get to decide whether to renew or leave. But almost no one ever leaves. After a century of taking orders and guarding and killing, what else do you know how to do?” He pointed to the terrifying woman with long white hair and red eyes. “That’s Liesl. She’s literally Satan, only blonder. The chick with the tattoos is Akari. She can meet a human and tell what powers they’ll have once they’re changed. Very useful, obviously. The dude who looks like Idris Elba is Cato, and he’s actually an okay guy, he’s the one currently assigned to keep tabs on Gwil’s coven...”

I soaked the names in like rain into dark, lush Washington earth as Joe relayed them to me, strange and beautiful names: Aruna, Phelan, Morana, Adair, Zora, Araminta, Honora, Victorien, Rigel, Sahel.

“Who’s that?” I asked, gesturing to the young man standing at the center of the painting, the one with black hair and eyes so light and luminous a brown they were almost gold and a sinister, unmistakable magnetism.

“Very good question,” Joe complimented. “That’s their Al Capone. That’s Larkin.”

“And what’s his vampire superpower?” He has to have one. I know he does.

“How do I even put that into words? It’s more than charisma. It’s slightly less than mind reading. He can see through people, what they want most, what they fear. And he can make them do things.”

I gazed into those omniscient glowing eyes, feeling myself getting caught there, feeling some primal dread swelling in the capillary beds of my heart and lungs and bone marrow. “Joe, I’m thoroughly enjoying this captivating backstory, really, but...why are you telling me all of this now?”

“Because you asked why Ben is so different than the rest of us. This is why.” Joe waved broadly at the painting, at the closest thing his world had to a mafia, to unrepentant killers, to actual demons. “This is where he came from.”

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