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puck-luck · 7 months ago

Note

okay since you wanted requests to switch it up a bit.. could you write trevor zegras x fem!reader smut where his gf is less experienced than him and wants to give him head but she’s never done it before so he guides her through it 🫣

other requests: “could you write a smut with some fluff in it too, with trevor zegras walking his gf through giving him head because it’s her first time and she’s nervous/doesn’t know what to do”, “obsessed with the idea of trevor zegras talking his gf through how to give him head when it’s her first time and she’s nervous about not knowing what to do.. like literally giving her instructions throughout, with lots of praise and reassurance, but also dirty talk bc let’s be real, it’s trevor.” warnings: oral (f and m receiving), dirty talk, inexperienced reader x experienced partner, praise, coming on face, masturbation joke warnings: tw: los angeles angels (i prefer the dodgers), in a world where tz never broke his ankle during the 2023-2024 season… pairing: trevor zegras x inexperienced!fem!reader summary: see requests above. wc: 3089

Trevor Zegras was the most giving, patient man you had ever known. Maybe his patience came from having younger siblings, but it was more likely that it came from years and years of working with teammates in a cutthroat sport. You had grown up watching hockey, gaining intimate knowledge of the sport when you had started dating Trevor. Trevor, in exchange, found himself more than knowledgeable about baseball, the sport of your choice, than he ever needed to be.

You two had met when you came to Anaheim, having graduated a year early from college with a degree in Sports Marketing. You had landed a job with the Los Angeles Angels, which had relocated you to the area, and you couldn’t imagine your life going any other way. There were times when you missed your family and missed home, but once you had gotten settled into your job and you had met Trevor, Anaheim started to feel like the home you’d been destined to find.

Anaheim was also an escape from your hometown– a place where, despite your best efforts, you did not feel welcome. You had told Trevor early in your relationship about your lack of experience sexually and tried to explain it away with a long-winded story about being a “weird kid,” but Trevor had brushed it off and told you he didn’t mind your inexperience. He was happy, he said, to teach you everything he could. All you had to do was say the word.

So, you’d worked up to it. You’d slept in the same bed, touched him, and he had touched you. Hockey season had helped the pace of your relationship, with Trevor traveling almost every other week. He was gone for two weeks straight in January, traveling from coast to coast, and it was then that you had shyly admitted to him through the tinny speaker of your phone how badly you wanted to suck him off.

He had fumbled with the phone, groaning at the idea alone of your mouth around his length, and it had resulted in a long FaceTime call in which you watched him fuck into his hand, telling you how much better it would feel if it was your mouth.

It was the Monday night after they had come back. Trevor had had a game on Sunday at Honda Center against the Rangers and spent the night at his place because it was closer to the rink. As much as he was itching to see you, and your heart was beating out of your chest at the idea of seeing him and going through with blowing him, you were scared. Trevor knew that you were nervous, the anticipation was getting to you, just from the way you were texting. The messages were shorter. You weren’t initiating conversation as much. The times between your responses were longer.

It didn’t matter, though. He was coming over tonight.He was going to cook you dinner. He was going to set the mood. He was going to make you comfortable if it was the last thing that he did, and if it meant that you wouldn’t get your mouth on him at all, he was okay with that.

Trevor arrived at your apartment about an hour after you got off work. Spring training was starting in just a month, so things were starting to pick up for you. You were stressed, plenty of tasks on your plate and most of them half-finished. A relaxing dinner with your boyfriend was going to provide a needed distraction.

Trevor had let himself into the apartment and was already pan-searing some cubed potatoes when you got out of the shower. He was in complete boyfriend mode, having stolen your apron and thrown it over his bare chest. You could see his tattoos from where you were standing, the ones littering his arms and the delicate one on his ribs, and you smiled.

He seemed like a tough guy, your boyfriend. He had the tattoos, the athletic ability, the sculpted form and ridged muscles of an athlete. Anyone who saw him in the supermarket might think he’s an asshole, but the second they get a good look at him, they’ll realize that he’s just a softie. He tied a delicate bow around the curve of his waist in your baby blue and frilly apron.

“I can feel you looking at me,” Trevor said. You watched his bicep ripple as he moved the potatoes around the pan with a spatula. He threw a glance over his shoulder. “Oh, good, you’re actually there. Could you imagine me saying that to the air?”

“I can, actually,” You replied with a laugh. You walked over and hugged Trevor from behind, arms wrapped solidly around his figure as you squished your cheek against his back. “I bet you did.”

Trevor sputtered out a denial, shaking his head. He relented just seconds later, unable to keep up the bit. “You’re right. I thought you were there like two minutes before you actually were.”

You giggled and pressed a kiss between his shoulder blades.

Trevor placed the spatula down on the counter, then turned the burner off and moved the pan to a different spot on the cooktop. He turned in your arms, inching over just a bit so that you were trapping him against the counter, not the oven. He gasped, reaching up and cradling your face in the palms of his hands.

“What?” You asked.

“You’ve gotten even prettier in the two weeks that I haven’t seen you,” He marveled, tilting your head from side to side as you rolled your eyes.

You pushed away from him, walking out of the kitchen.

Trevor trailed behind you like a puppy.

“You’re a loser,” You said.

“I love my pretty girlfriend,” Trevor replied.

As you passed the couch in your living room, Trevor tackled you over the arm of the object and you fell onto the cushions. You shrieked at the contact, at the fall, and squirmed in Trevor’s grip as he kissed over your neck and face. His fingers were digging into your sides, causing you to giggle and snort between breaths. Trevor was relentless, until he decided to plant a kiss on your lips.

He captured your lips with intent, slowly slotting your bottom lip between his. Trevor always kissed you with purpose, slow, like he was trying to memorize you. He slid his mouth into your tongue like he was trying to lap up your sweetness, keep it on his tongue until he could place your taste and replicate it in a dish or a drink, something he’d be willing to consume every day for the rest of his life. You liked most when he nibbled on your bottom lip before pulling away, something that was so trademark Trevor that it made you breathless. He would always pull back just to look at you, to push your hair out of your face, before diving back in.

He kissed you so gently, so sweetly, that when you felt his bulge press against you, you were almost caught off guard.

“Been thinking about you,” Trevor purred against your lips. “About what you said the other day.”

You froze and Trevor pulled away, hovering over you. He searched your face carefully.

“We don’t have to,” He reassured you. “You know we don’t have to. I’d never make you.”

“I want to,” You replied, voice small. “I’m just… scared.”

“Scared of what?” Trevor asked.

“What if I gag and I throw up all over you?” You cringed at the mere thought. “I’ll die if that happens.”

Trevor stifled a laugh. “I’ll shower and I’ll wait two weeks before letting you near my dick with your mouth again,” He answered, an easy smile turning up the corners of his mouth.

You pouted at him. “You’re not taking this seriously.”

“I am!” He protested. “Baby, you’re not going to throw up on my dick.”

“What if I do?”

“I just told you what we’d do if you threw up on my dick!”

“Okay, well, you’re not being very supportive of my fears.”

Trevor sighed and placed his hands on your shoulders. He stared deeply into your eyes. “I understand you are afraid of vomiting on my penis. I assure you, that will not happen.”

“How can you be so sure?” You whined.

“It’s never happened before,” Trevor said. He leaned down to kiss the spot under your ear. “Plus, baby, I’m going to go so slow that you’ll be begging for more by the end of it.”

A shiver ran down your spine at that, the way he whispered the words in your ear so his hot breath danced over your skin igniting a flame between your legs.

“Why don’t,” Trevor began, his hand making his way to your clothed mound, “I show you just how good getting head would make me feel?”

His deft fingers rubbed in circles over your clit, the pressure just intense enough to make you moan.

“Would you like that? I’ll get my tongue on you, make you come once, maybe twice…” Trevor kissed you, his lips sliding over yours, his tongue teasing its way into your mouth then out of it. “And then we can revisit the idea of getting your mouth on me?”

“Yeah,” You agreed lamely, the heat between your legs growing more slick with each circle of his fingers and each wet kiss.

Trevor stood from where he was lain on top of you. He untied your apron, which you had almost forgotten he was wearing, and tossed it to the side. He grabbed under your knees and dragged you down towards the arm of the couch, throwing one leg over the arm and setting your other foot on the floor. He kept a hand on that knee, rubbing smooth lines up and down your skin with his thumb. With his other hand, he traced the line of your folds through the fabric of your sweat-shorts.

They were a loose pair, gray and almost threadbare after years of washes and use. The fabric of the shorts was the thinnest barrier Trevor could have faced. You could have put on panties when you got out of the shower, but had opted just for these shorts instead. They were more comfortable. Now, they were just something stopping him from getting his mouth on you.

Except, it didn’t stop him.

Trevor mouthed over your clit, giving it an open-mouthed kiss. You whimpered at the shock that it sent up your body, causing your fingertips to twitch at your side. He ran his tongue over the length of your pussy and chuckled to himself when your hips jumped beneath him.

“Relax, honey,” Trevor said, his words muffled because he was still pressed against you. “Relax and enjoy.”

His fingers came up and moved your shorts out of the way, revealing you to him. Chastely, he kissed your folds, then pointedly blew cold air over your entrance.

“Trev,” You let out, reaching a hand towards his, still rubbing on your knee. He intertwined his fingers with yours, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze.

Trevor licked his way up to your clit again, capturing it between his lips and sucking. He rolled the bud on his tongue, causing your hips to lift again. “Be good,” He told you, voice low. His eyes were closed as he continued to lick over you, practically french kissing your lower lips the same way he would the ones on your face.

It was a gradual build, the coil in your stomach tightening. You squeezed Trevor’s hand and ground down on his tongue. He flattened his tongue against your clit, letting you hump it, before he tensed it at your entrance and prodded his way into you. He flicked the muscle fast, and the sensation was all too much for you.

You came undone with a loud cry, your thighs closing around Trevor’s head involuntarily.

He continued to lap at your release, cleaning you up and only stopping when you relaxed beneath him and pushed him away.

“How was that?” Trevor asked, his face level with yours.

You reached out and looped your arms around his neck, dragging him forward until your lips crashed against his. This kiss, at your direction, was much more passionate. You could taste yourself on his tongue and you moaned into his mouth. You turned, pushing at Trevor until he was the one seated on the couch. You found yourself on his lap, grinding down on his bulge.

“So you liked it?” Trevor asked.

You let out a laugh and sucked a hickey under his jaw. “Teach me how to make you feel good like that.”

Trevor shuddered when you scraped your teeth over his pulse point. “On your knees,” He told you. He guided you, with a hand on your shoulder, between his legs.

The sight of you there, feet tucked prettily under you, hands clasped in front of you, has Trevor’s dick twitching in his pants.

“Take my dick out, baby,” Trevor said, his voice soft but firm.

He lifted his hips as you pulled at his shorts. They pooled around his ankles, leaving him in just his briefs.

“Give me your hand.”

You reached up and he took your wrist, guiding your hand toward his bulge. He let your hand rest just to the side of him.

“Touch me. Over my pants.”

You traced the line of his dick over his pants, biting your lip when it jumped under your finger. You palmed him, fitting your hand over the curve of him and beginning to rub him up and down.

Trevor’s head tilted back and he let out a groan. “Faster.”

You sped up, just as he had asked you to, bringing your other hand up to cradle his balls.

“Fuck,” Trevor moaned, inadvertently tipping his hips up into your hand. “Take it out.”

You rushed to do so, scraping your nails against his sides when you pulled at his waistband. Trevor hissed at that, but didn’t say anything. When his dick was revealed to you, standing proud and dripping from the tip, you took it in your hand and leaned down to hesitantly lick his slit.

Trevor’s hands flew to your hair, the strands falling between his fingers. “Again,” He breathed out, eyes wide.

You licked his tip again, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

“Oh my God,” Trevor drawled out, borderline whimpering. “Baby, fuck, please.”

You smiled, proud of yourself for reducing him from someone who was so sure of himself and so loud to someone who is whining just from your touch. You circled your lips around his lip, sucking lightly.

His dick twitched. “So good,” Trevor praised. “Can you take more?”

You nodded out of instinct, but the sensation made him garble out an unintelligible string of words. You sunk down lower on his dick, feeling your lips stretch as you take him down your throat. You bobbed your head up and down slowly, feeling how he slid in and out of you. The taste of him on your tongue was addicting– salty and just so man. You moaned, the vibrations enveloping Trevor’s dick in a way that made him buck up into your throat. You gagged, a tear forming on your waterline.

Trevor grabbed your hair and pulled you up, just barely off the head of his dick.

“You okay?” He asked. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you gag.”

You cleared your throat and nodded. “You taste so good, Trevor.” Trevor’s jaw dropped at the tone of your voice, light and innocent and sexy because it was worn with use.

“Fuck, suck me again, just take it,” Trevor encouraged, gathering your hair into a ponytail.

You lowered your mouth onto Trevor again, tracing your tongue over the vein on the underside of his dick. You used one hand to pump the part of his dick that you couldn’t fit into your mouth. You bobbed up and down, covering your teeth as best you could, but Trevor relished in the ghost of a scrape over his member when you got caught up in the moment.

He was groaning, babbling above you, his abs flexing as he drowned in pleasure. His face was flushed and you whined when you saw the mark that you left on his sharp jawline.

“Baby, you’re so good,” Trevor groaned. “You’re gonna make me come.”

You reached a hand down into your shorts and fingered furiously over your clit, swooning with the sensation there and of the weight on your tongue.

Trevor leaned forward and spotted your movements, saw your hand moving from inside your shorts. “Oh my God, fuck, yeah, make yourself come, too, baby…”

You gave it your all, twisting your hand around the length of Trevor that wasn’t inside your mouth. Drool slid out of your mouth, offering plenty of lubrication for your hand, making it easier to jerk him.

“God, fucking– baby, let me come on your face. Please, wanna see it on you,” Trevor begged.

He said it right as your fingers teased your entrance in just the right way, and you came for the second time that night, kneeling on the carpet for your boyfriend’s pleasure.

You pulled off of Trevor, but kept your mouth open, sticking your tongue out. He took his dick in his hand and jacked himself off quickly, hand flying over his length.

“Close your eyes,” Trevor warned, panting like he couldn’t catch his breath. “Don’t– fuck– don’t want to get my come in your eye.”

You obeyed him, reluctantly losing sight of his figure. There would be plenty of other times where you could watch his face contort with the bliss of his orgasm, but it’s nothing compared to the feeling of his hot, sticky come fall on your cheeks before Trevor aims his release at your tongue.

“God, Y/N,” Trevor groaned out. “I kind of want to take a picture of you like this.”

“Can I open my eyes?” You asked, “Wanna look up at you.”

“Yeah,” Trevor agreed, eyes fluttering as he took in the sight of you with his come on your face. When your eyes opened and met his, he felt himself starting to harden again. “Now I really want to take a picture.”

You wiped some of the come off of your cheek with your thumb before licking it off the digit. “Next time. I believe you promised me a home cooked dinner.”

notes: dear trevor zegras, i <3 you and think we could really get up to no good if you'd just give me a look. also, i wrote this at work. also, also, my coworker was sitting next to me and one of the elderly ladies asked me what i was typing. no comment.

#puck-luck's fics #trevor zegras #trevor zegras x reader #trevor zegras x y/n #trevor zegras smut #nhl smut #nhl x reader #nhl x y/n #nhl fic #nhl fanfiction #andy writes anything🍄#tz11 #hockey smut

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justwinginglife · 3 months ago

Note

The best way to a man's heart is through his dick.

Hoshina who's strict on not getting attached to one night stands but swears he fell so hard for the reader once she gave him the best head of him life.

I love this prompt so much, thank you. Now excuse me while I go suck Soshiro's dick, I must have his love. Also, I think the request was NSFW warning enough, but fyi this is NSFW lmao.

Head Game

You'd never heard a man beg before, but that would change today.

You sat back, licking at the cum that was slathered across your lips, as you eyed the man that was now writhing in your bedsheets.

"Did you not just cum twice in a row down my throat?"

He bit his lip and covered his face with one hand. "S-still hard..." He groaned into his palm.

"Okay, so say it. Tell me."

"Suck me off. Again. Please."

"How badly do you need it?" You nuzzled the tip of your nose against his inner thigh and he sucked in a sharp breath.

"Fuck, I need it so bad. Gimme those pretty lips of yours."

Your whole life you'd preferred to be splayed out beneath a man, preferred to be dominated, to be whimpering and whining at his demanding touch. But the sight of this particular man, all flushed and desperate, his legs spread wide with eagerness for you, got you going more than you ever imagined it would. You wanted to drown yourself in his cum. You wanted to choke on his erection, feel his throbbing veins against the walls of your mouth. You wanted to take in his cock so frequently that your throat melded to the shape of it.

You were past the teasing point. You'd spent the last two times flicking your tongue here and there, playing with his balls, pressing light kisses to his tip, just edging him on slowly. But you'd tasted him too much at this point to wait patiently for another serving. You wanted him pumping down your throat and you wanted it now.

You took his whole length in one motion and he let out a strangled gasp.

"F-fuck... not even... gonna gimme time... t-to adjust? So s-sensitive still."

You smirked against his dick. He'd been so impatient moments ago and now he couldn't handle it? Too bad. He was going to have to pay for his greed. You couldn't remember the last time you enjoyed giving head so much (maybe never), and you planned to enjoy yourself some more.

The feeling of him roughly fucking the back of your throat, his swollen tip still sticky with the remnants of his last two orgasms, made you immensely thirsty and you'd take his cum as payment any day.

You picked up the pace, feeling as desperate as he was now. The walls of your mouth suctioning tight around him as you engorged yourself, savoring every slicked-up inch of him. You moaned when his precum started drizzling down the back of your throat, the familiar sweetness seeping in.

The rumbling of your moan against his overloaded erection made him squirm. A squeak escaped his lips as he arched into the sensation.

Then you felt the sheets tug underneath you as he clenched them tight. He gripped the back of your head and thrust himself deeper into you, causing waves of his cum to gush into your mouth. He groaned into his fist as he watched you down every last drop. Again.

Even when he'd completely finished and was gasping for breath, trying to recover from the intensity, you kept him deep inside you. You loved the feeling of him twitching in your mouth as his arousal slowly receded.

But you also knew he wouldn't be able to go all night. He'd leave your bedside eventually. He'd leave your life. You wanted him still, even just for a second longer. So you continued sucking at the remnants of his erection until he begged you to allow him respite, his sensitivity spiking through the roof.

You collapsed onto the bed beside him, wondering when he'd make the decision to go. Wondering if you'd miss him in your bed. It'd only been one night. One night wasn't enough to miss someone. Or was it?

You unwillingly sank into a deep sleep, your mind drowning in thoughts of him. You were overwhelmed by the sheer amount of thoughts you had for this stranger.

When you woke in the morning, he was gone.

You buried your face into your pillow and sighed heavily.

Part of you wanted to go back to the bar, to see if he was there, see if he was retracing your steps last night, if he was also remembering the way he'd pinned you up against the bathroom wall and then bent you over the sink before you'd made the decision to take him back to your place to continue.

But you'd already known what your arrangement was before you even unlocked the front door for him. You knew you were nothing- just one blip on the timeline. One nice night, one forgettable night.

You didn't even know what he did for work, where he lived, what his favorite color was, what his phone number was. You didn't know him. You'd never know him. And maybe that was for the better.

But as you went about your day, you found yourself imagining his eyes, his smirk, his whines. You wondered if he pictured you on the bathroom counter, inhaling his lips like fresh air, if he pictured you in between his legs, drinking him up like fresh water. You knew you needed to stop. He was just a one night stand... a one night stand you'd remember for the rest of your nights.

By evening, you were honestly contemplating if you'd ever be able to be intimate with anybody else ever again without comparing them to him when you heard a knock on the door.

You cautiously made your way to the door, wondering who could be here at this time of night.

It was him.

He was panting, like he'd just suddenly made the decision to visit on a whim. On a wish.

Your heart lurched in your chest as you waited for his explanation but you weren't sure if you even needed it. You were ready to welcome him in. Ready to go for another round. Or not. Or just sit on the couch and talk. Drink together. Get to know him.

You really had to stop thinking like this, he probably just forgot something here last night.

"Hiya stranger." He was grinning but his words seemed hesitant, as if he wasn't quite sure what he was doing on your doorstep.

"Hi." You couldn't muster up anymore words for him, your mind was already overfilling with thoughts, with hopes, and you didn't want to give yourself away. Didn't want to say too much, too fast. You honestly thought if you opened your mouth again you might be the one begging this time, you might ask him to stay.

He cleared his throat. Then he cleared it again, fidgeting with the bottom of his shirt. "Soo... how's your day been?"

You laughed at that. "Might as well ask me how the weather is, Soshiro."

He stood up straight at hearing his name. "Well how is it then? How's the weather?"

"Honestly? It's been kind of sad today."

"Ahh, I see. I've not been having great weather either. Was better last night."

"Agreed. Everything was better last night."

"I think I'd like a do-over."

You raised an eyebrow. "Of... the weather?"

He rubbed the back of his head and laughed awkwardly. "I think you know we're not talking about the weather anymore, love."

You stepped aside to let him in and it was way too quick, way too eager, but you didn't care. You also wanted a do-over of last night. Again and again. Until it was all of your nights.

You thought he was going to kiss you but he hugged you. Just held you tight for a moment.

"Would you think I was crazy if I said I missed you?" He murmured against your shoulder.

You shook your head quickly, though still silent. You were in shock and couldn't quite find the right words to say.

"I think I could fall in love with you, you know."

Your eyes widened at his sudden statement. But then you giggled. "Because you like my head game?"

He blushed and buried his rosy cheeks deep into your shoulder. "Not just that... but yeah. Kinda."

He couldn't see you smiling, but you thought he had to know he'd made you happy because he pulled you even closer after that.

You ran your hands up and down his back, trying to steel yourself to finally say what you were thinking. "I'd be okay with that... if you wanted to fall in love with me. I could love you back."

His head shot up so he could meet your gaze.

"I'd like that. I'd like to try."

And he did.

He filled all your nights and all your days.

He filled your thoughts, filled your body.

Filled your chest with laughter, filled your heart with love.

You were so full of him, you couldn't live without him anymore.

And he never made you live without him ever again.

#kaiju no. 8 #soshiro hoshina #soshiro hoshina x reader #hoshina #anime #oneshot #hoshina x reader #hoshina soshiro x reader #anime fanfic #smut

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vintagebishx · 5 months ago

Text

ULTRAVIOLENCE theodore nott

“i love you the first time

i love you the last time…”

- lana del rey

PAIRINGS: toxic!theodore nott x fem!reader

WARNINGS: use of y/n, she/her pronouns, very much angsty, smoking, toxic relationship and very much toxic theo, mentions of bruises, just want to make clear that i am not romanticising this type of “love” whatsoever!

SUMMARY: in which, she can’t get away from his “love”…

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

THE COLD AIR of the dark, and starry sky hit her face as she stood in the astronomy tower with a cigarette placed between her lips, and her eyes slightly squinting as the wind was starting to become too much.

her face lacked emotion though, still keeping a straight face as she just stared at the scenery that was playing out before her.

she felt as the smoke entered her body. it was toxic, but she was used to toxic.

she wouldn’t describe the feeling as pleasurable but more of an intense, exhilarating feeling that made her feel like the smoke was carrying out her worries as it left her mouth.

she loved the feeling. she didn’t want to exhale the smoke, but she did. not because she wanted to, but because she had to.

the wind hitting against her red, purplish mark that rested on her arm was enough to make her shudder and wince in slight pain.

her eyes finally ripped away from the outside world, bringing all her attention back to the reality of what was really happening.

she blankly stared at the mark.

a dangerous, yet loving reminder that somebody was there with her.

a reminder that she was loved.

after all, she felt herself wanting to be loved more than she wanted to be alive.

the mark was fresh, unlike her love which was slowly becoming old and outdated to her.

but she still stayed.

for the past five days, night was the only time of the day she found herself taking off her jumper and exposing her painted arm. she knew she would get judged or questioned, but that’s not what she wanted.

she knew that people wouldn’t understand that to her, these marks were symbols of love. a reminder that he still cared about her, providing a feeling that she had always longed for.

acceptance.

for the longest time. she had felt like an outsider in her own life. but when theo came along, he made her feel something. he made her feel special.

she knew it was wrong.

she knew that this type of love that they had going on was not the right way to go. yet every time she expressed her doubts to him, he would just pull her closer, wrap his arms around her and reassure her that he loved her.

and of course, she gave in.

and it wasn’t only because she loved him so dearly, it was because he provided a sense of security and reassurance that nobody had ever offered to her.

she wanted so badly to cry and let some emotion out but over time, she had taught herself how to conceal that very well.

he never liked it when she cried.

he claimed that she was “too pretty to cry”, and that she should never cry in front of him.

so like a fool in love, she obeyed.

she made sure that he never saw the water that would constantly threaten to slip from her dark eyes. but for now, she was all alone.

so instead of doing her usual routine of sucking it up, she let them fall. a small sigh of relief leaving her mouth when doing so as her tears began to ruin the mascara that was perfectly applied to her face.

a sigh escaped her mouth, the feeling of the tears rolling down her cheek were refreshing, like something she had never felt before.

she brought her cigarette back up to her mouth, her hands slightly shaking as she was beginning to feel overwhelmed by the “sudden” wave of sadness entering her body.

she felt so lonely in such a busy world, this was a feeling that was always with her since she first became a teenager.

she watched as the smoke that escaped her mouth now blew away freely into the air, staring at it with envy. she was jealous of how free the smoke was, unlike her who felt trapped in a place that was supposed to provide her “freedom”.

the sudden sound of footsteps was what immediately silenced her, scaring her from turning around in case it was a professor.

i mean, God forbid it was Snape who found her.

but it wasn’t.

instead, she recognised the footsteps.

she slowly turned her head to the side, using her peripheral view to see exactly who it was. theodore.

her eyes remained on him as he walked closer and closer to her, her mouth slowly going agape as she waited to see what he would do or say.

“y/n…” he began.

his voice. his oh so soft voice that made her fall even more in love with him than when she first met the boy two years ago. his voice lured her in for a quick second, making her feel everything she would feel for him whenever he would hold her tight and reassure her that he loved her, even after doing her dirty most times.

“i’ve been looking for you everywhere.” he continued as he was getting even closer. but y/n just stared at him, quickly getting out of whatever trance he had put her in unknowingly.

the girl watched as he got closer. she suddenly dropped her cigarette on the floor before backing away from the boy who just kept approaching her, “get the fuck away from me.” she harshly spat, forced to use her inside voice as she didn’t want to get caught out here, especially with a boy after hours.

“woah, calm down princess…” he said in attempts to calm her down as he stared at her. his eyes dropped down to her arm and the painted bruise that laid on it, “i’m not gonna hurt you.” he reassured her, trying to reach his arms out to her but she rejected.

“you already did.” she said sternly.

she took a moment to look at him, admiring how the moon reflected on his carefully crafted features that were just so beautiful. her breaths became a little shaky, his eyes glistened as he looked at the girl and the state that she was in.

but she didn’t care about how he viewed her at that moment, she just wanted him gone.

“so don’t try to fucking touch me.” she said harshly, resulting in theo to slowly furrow his eyebrows.

“me, hurt you?” he asked in a condescending tone as he walked closer and closer to her. but y/n continued to back further away from him, not wanting to be anywhere near him.

the feeling of her back hitting a stone wall causing her breathing to fault as she knew that that he was going to use this to his advantage. she could’ve sworn she saw a small smirk appear on his face, one that quickly disappeared once he finally reached her.

his cold, cold eyes looked down at her, taking in her beauty that was to die for. his eyes scanned all over her face, the bright moonlight showing every single minute detail that captivated him the moment he first saw her.

y/n knew he was staring. she could feel his harsh gaze on her, but she had her head turned to the side, avoiding him as her breaths were shaky and a few tears rolled down her face.

she knew what the consequences would be if she even glanced at him. it was a cycle. she’d fall into his obvious trap, he’d hold her close and whisper sweet lies in her ear, then they would be together the next day just to break up again days later.

“i would never hurt you y/n.” he muttered as his low eyes remained on her, staying focused on the tears that freely rolled down her cheeks.

y/n nearly scoffed at his words, but she chose to stay silent. she didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of her reaction because he lied.

after all, it was what he did best.

his cold, cold eyes stayed glued to her features, his attention drawing to the tears that rolled down her cheeks. he brought his hand up to her jaw, grabbing onto it with a little bit of pressure.

she shivered.

his touch feeling so comfortable, yet so unsettling to her.

he wasted no time in turning her head over to him, forcing her to look at his face. his low eyes analysed her face as the bright moonlight reflected on her beauty face. he just looked a her while she stood there, her breaths even becoming shaky as her mouth was left slightly agape.

“so beautiful mi amore.” he muttered, his eyes flickering down to her beautifully full and succulent lips.

“your so pretty when you cry,” he added. his thumb found its way to her cheek, wiping the tears off of her cheek.

“but you know i hate it when you do…” theo spoke in a quiet voice.

his voice.

his voice sounded like a melody that made her want to listen to it over again. his soft, yet assertive voice was what caught her in the obvious trap that he had set out. she found herself staring deeply into his eyes, like a lost puppy. his beautiful eyes made her heart skip a beat as his gaze was so comforting.

silence found its way between the two, the only thing audible being the loud winds that hurled.

her eyebrows furrowed at just feeling of his thumb grazing her cheek slowly, she brought her hand up and wasted no time in removing his thumb.

“i-i can’t keep doing this.” said y/n as she shook her head, she knew how it would all end if she stayed and she wasn’t ready for that outcome.

“we aren’t good for each other.” she mumbled out truthfully, but theo just furrowed his eyebrows at her words. she looked away from him, avoiding his intoxicating, yet addictive gaze.

“why?” he simply asked, removing his hands from her jaw before brining it down to her waist. his touch brought her butterflies, a feeling that she knew she shouldn’t of been feeling.

but she couldn’t help it.

the feeling of his fingertips against her skin brought back many memories, good and bad. the nostalgia of how good he’d make her feel while inside of her, whispering in her ear that she was beautiful, or that she was all he ever wanted. but memories of how he’d harshly grab her, or how she’d roughly push him away from her came rushing back.

“can’t you see that we’re perfect together?” he asked her as he stepped even closer to her body, “we can’t ruin this my love.” he muttered.

his words ran through her mind. the thing was, they weren’t perfect. far from it even.

y/n felt her self going crazy.

she was tired. tired of feeling drained, tired of waiting for him to change, tired of feeling utterly dehumanised, and tired of feeling fucking crazy whenever she was around him.

if it was love, she wouldn’t of felt this agonising feeling when with him, if it was love she wouldn’t of constantly looked at him with disgust, if it was love she wouldn’t of had these marks all over her. but she was afraid to leave him, afraid as this was truly the only “love” she knew.

“no…” she mumbled quietly as she looked at him, “this isn’t love.” she spoke, motioning her hands between them both. theo just looked down at her, his hand remaining on her waist as his expression just stayed emotionless.

his once comforting touch now felt sour, she quickly pushed him off of her causing him to slightly stumble back.

“what the f-” “shut the fuck up theo…” she harshly spat, her eyes filled with disgust as she looked him up and down.

“i-i can’t keep doing this… i can’t keep waiting for you to finally see me and treat me like a human.” she expressed, “you don’t care about me theo, you never did.” she added.

theo let out a small sigh, “i do care about-” “just shut up, please”.

“your an awful person theo, i just hope you realise that someday.” she said truthfully, but theo just rolled his eyes at her words as he was used to hearing that.

his eyebrows furrowed as he walked closer to the girl once more, y/n just watched him. she watched him keep his eyes on her with this dark, eerie aura which strongly radiated from him.

“but you don’t say that when we’re alone together.” he muttered, his body basically against hers as he looked down at her. her soft beat was all he could feel against his chest, something that he was used to hearing and breaking.

“when my hands are all over you,” he continued lowly as his eyes now scanned her body.

“or even when i’m inside-” “that’s enough.” she quietly spoke as she dropped her eyes to her feet, but the seriousness in her tone was enough to make him shut up.

“i don’t deserve this. i deserve a love that’s pure, deep, a-and passionate. not this.” she said before looking back up at him, who was already staring.

theo let out a breathy laugh, his perfect teeth being exposed as a smile rested on his face.

“and who will give you that?” he asked her as his smile dropped, “hm?” he continued, waiting for an answer to drop out of her mouth. her words were practically a joke to him.

“all the other boys waiting for you to disappear.” she quickly replied, and she wasn’t lying.

she really did have a lot of boys trying to get to her but the only thing holding her back was theo. it didn’t help that everyone knew how possessive he got with her, causing every man to avoid her like the plague.

his eyes spent a moment scanning her perfect face, a confused expression on his face even though nothing had been said.

he suddenly lifted his hands and brought them to her face, his large hands cupped her cheeks as his thumb slowly grazed her soft skin. his eyes were constantly flicking between her lips and eyes, licking his lips before opening his mouth to talk.

his hands were soft, like butter.

it was a feeling that she had always loved against her skin, it felt so comforting to her.

“go ahead, nobody’s stopping you.” he said cooly, “but when each of them start to randomly disappear, don’t get shocked sweetheart.” he told her coldly.

his face was serious, a face and tone that she was extremely familiar with.

“no one will ever love you like i do my love.” he mumbled, slightly distracted as his attention was really just on her.

“and even if they try to…” he began, “i’ll blow their brains out, no hesitation.” he said with a straight face.

his tone was collected, almost as if he hasn’t said the most incriminating thing ever.

she wanted so badly to freak out over his words, but part of her felt flattered over his obsessive tendencies. maybe she felt this way because it was him who was talking, or maybe it was because of how protected he made her feel, or maybe it was the fact that being loved harshly was the only type of love she knew and was actually good at.

now here she was, a conversation that began with a determined y/n was now slowly disintegrating into her melting into his hands like putty.

but aside from that, she tried to hide how she felt by letting an expression of disgust rest on her face. she didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing her fold this fast.

“why can’t you just leave me alone? aren’t you tired of this, constantly trying to chase me?” she questioned, “your pathetic.” she spat.

“because when will you get it through your thick head that you don’t need anybody else but me?” he asked her, his tone was harsh as he furrowed his eyebrows and waited for an answer.

his expression suddenly softened as his eyebrows relaxed, “i see you with another man then i’ll kill you and whoever it is.” he said calmly.

“you wouldn’t even try.” she said bluntly, but theo only let out a laugh, not really buying whatever act she was trying to keep up.

“you know how bad i can get…” he said, his bottom lip finding its way between his teeth as he began to think about the different ways he’d punish her for her actions.

“you’re mine.” he continued.

those words were so simple, yet effective.

she knew it was a lie. she knew that he was full of shit half of the time, but it was something about him that kept dragging her back to him. she was so embarrassed to admit how dumb she looked continuously going back to him but she couldn’t explain it.

he was like a deadly drug that she was constantly drawn to, addictive.

he slight leaned his head down, his succulent lips making its way to her cheeks as they kissed them softly. he wasted no time in moving his hands from her cheeks down to her waist as he began to move his kisses down to her neck, becoming harsher, and harsher.

his lips were soft. sometimes cold, sometimes warm but that never distracted her from the fact that every time she kissed him or felt his lips attach to her body, she would have this dizzy feeling take over her system. she even felt it at that moment.

his kisses feeling like true love, a feeling that she always felt when with him but just hated to admit it to anyone, and even herself because she knew that what they had was far from it.

y/n stared blankly ahead of her, too ashamed to feel any pleasure from his sweet sensations of love.

she wanted to deny him so bad but she couldn’t, she was addicted to this man and there was no turning back.

AUTHOR SPEAKS!

it’s low-key been a while, but i was just trying to focus on some drafts.

i’m aware that people want a part two of “for the first time” which i really wasn’t expecting. i have been trying to think of a part two but writers block hit me harddd, but there will be one dw!!

#lorenzo zurzolo #slytherin boys #slytherin #theo nott x reader #theo nott x you #theodore nott #theodore nott fluff #theodore nott imagine #theodore nott masterlist #theodore nott smut #mattheo riddle smut #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x reader #theodore nott x reader

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numinousher · 2 months ago

Text

CHANTAJE! (xxv)

SUMMARY: being under the watchful eye of the media and your fans, your managers are in desperate need of regaining back your popularity after other influencers who hate you cause mayhem to your life. what best way to do so by having you pretend to be in a relationship with the popular 7 who are known to be intensely wealthy and stoic? will you be able to regain their trust or will they go with their promise of damaging your reputation even more?

WARNING(S) FOR LATER: gore/blood/murder, harassment/bullying, mental health talks (nothing badly triggering), child endangerment (mc was a child actor, again nothing badly triggering. if there is, there will be a warning)

NOTE: ahhhhh next chapter will need to be listened to with wildflower by billie eilish pls

TAGLIST (CLOSED): @parapiop7 @an-ever-angry-bi @softforyoongles @thenaverse @chansatlan @juju-227592 @skyys-universe @carolinexkpop @reallysparklychaos @namjooncrabs @savagemickey03 @drunkzseok @svnbangtansworld @2ne1unni

“That star is orange.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Jin, I get you’re old and you can’t see, but that star is for sure orange or some type of color,” you said, pointing directly at the star you were pointing at so Jin could see.

You two were night seeing stars for some reason. You two had wanted to go out to eat, but he had messed up the time and reservation, so he just ordered food to your place and you two put some blankets on the grass.

“You’re fucking with me that’s it,” Jim scoffed out, squinting his eyes to see the star you were pointing at better. “Girl, I cannot see shit.”

“You have such a potty mouth for one that is the oldest,” you said with amusement, looking down at his figure lying down on the grass. “Also, remind me to get you some binoculars or some shit because how can you not see it?”

“Leave me alone,” Jin groaned, softly pushing you away. “I see it now. Happy?”

“Well, now I feel like you said that out of pity,” you said with a noise while simultaneously crossing your arms dramatically. “We suck at this. We can go inside to look at some movie.”

“Can we see one of yours?” He suggested, standing up and sticking his hand out to help you get on your feet. You scrunched your nose as you two got the food to take it inside. “Come on, I haven’t seen one.”

“Fine,” you dragged out. You two walked back inside your room, heading immediately towards the living room so you could put one of your movies. “Sad, rom-com, action, or psychological horror?”

“Sad, I feel like crying today,” he replied. He sat down on the side closer to the door and waited until you put on one of your sad movies. It was everyone’s favorite genre so of course you had more than one. Just like how so many actors were given a title, yours was “she’s mostly known for being in sad movies.” You didn’t know whether you should take it as a compliment, but you did. It was nice being known as that since you did a good job causing tears.

You and Jin sat on the couch for 2 hours, watching your film, “Color Blue.” He went watching it without knowing the plot (you didn’t want to tell him) and now he was suffering the consequences. You were sobbing, he was sobbing, tissues were spread everything (just the table), and he was left hurt at the ending.

“That was it?” He sniffed. “What the hell? He just leaves? He just disappears like that?”

You sniff. “It’s insinuated she met the love of her life shortly after he left. He was her first love but, it was never supposed to be a forever thing due to this circumstances.”

“I hate your fucking movie, what the fuck?” Jin continued to sniff before a sob escaped his mouth. “That’s enough. I don’t want to see more.”

“Can you drive?” You sniffle, placing the tissue on your nose. “Should I call one of the boys?”

“Yeah, call one of those idiots,” Jin said considering the fact you two have been together since 8 AM.

You two didn’t do a lot. He and the others find so much comfort in your home they love lying around on your couch or on your bed. You don’t know why but he and the others have said your house smells like pumpkin and cinnamon, which would be a nice scent for fall.

You took it as a compliment.

You couldn’t help but swoon over Jin’s looks and the way he truly was an awkward person like you have been told. He does have some confidence, but he mostly uses that when he needs to. He used that when you two went to the store to buy some things you two needed for dinner.

You two had to leave, though, when it got a bit swarmed with fans.

“Hello?”

“Hey,” you sniff before you and Jin simultaneously sobbed at the credit scene. You had forgotten a montage of your character and his favorite character was shown.

“Are you two okay?” Yoongi asked, standing up from his chair to look at his wristwatch. He looked at Jimin, gesturing for him while he grabbed his keys. “Hey, why are you two crying?”

They could just hear you both sobbing.

“He didn’t deserve that!” Jin exclaimed.

“It needed to end like that so she could meet him!”

As you two cried, Yoongi, Jimin, and Taehyung (they didn’t know where he came from) headed to the car parked in front of their house.

“Hurry up,” Jimin hissed. He had forgotten how slow of a driver Yoongi was.

After 10 minutes, they arrived to your house. Yoongi did break a couple of laws here and there but, they did get to your house unharmed.

Yoongi and Jimin had gotten out of the car when Taehyung did, which Jimin immediately stopped him for.

“What?” Taehyung scoffed as soon as Jimin stood in front of him, hands placed on his chest to prevent him from walking any further. “Let me go.”

“No,” Jimin replied with a frown. “Stay here. I’ll come get you once I make sure they’re fine.” Taehyung opened his mouth to argue but Jimin shushed him with a glare. “You will go crazy if you find out they’re hurt. Stay here. I am not fucking kidding.”

Once he made sure he wasn’t following, Jimin hurried into your house with such speed he was surprised he didn’t trip over your front stairs.

“They’re fine!” Yoongi exclaimed. Jimin appeared next to him, out of breath, chest heaving up and down. “They’re crying over a movie.”

“I-” Jimin gaped. He eyed the two figures on the couch hugging each other, holding on for dear life, almost as if they were to detach one would disappear. “What movie did you guys watch?”

“Color Blue,” you and Jin sobbed out, hugging each other tighter.

“Isn’t that your movie, Y/n?” Yoongi asked, eyebrows furrowing together. He glanced at your face on the screen, smiling at another character. “Why are you crying? Don’t you know the plot?”

“It still hurts, okay?” You cried out, throwing him a plushie. He easily caught it with one hand. “I’m such a good actress.”

“Yeah, you are,” Jin agreed, nodding his head rapidly.

Jimin sighed. “Okay, okay, come on.” He separated you two, letting Yoongi comfort you while he comforted Jin. “You big babies. Why are you watching a sad movie?”

“Jin said so,” you answered, grabbing another tissue and dabbing your nose.

“Of course he did. Jin loves sad movies.”

“I love the feeling it gives me.”

Jimin shook his head at his words. “See?” He placed a hand on the back of your head, lightly scratching your scalp while the other scratched Jin’s. “It’s okay, honey. Your movies are great. It’s just fictional.”

“It didn’t feel fictional,” Jin said, calming down. His eyes did tear up, though. “Oh, my God. They deserved their happy ending.”

“Jin, they did get their happy ending,” you sniffed. He looked at you and you gesture at the movie. “The guy at the end, his voice matches the other guys. Why do you think?”

He stayed silent before he gasped. “No way!”

“Yes!”

“What is the movie about?” Jimin whispered to Yoongi while you and Jin babbled.

“He ends up disappearing at the end,” Yoongi quickly answered in hopes you two wouldn’t listen. Just in case you two burst out crying again. “No one knows why he disappeared but, the next scene takes place months later after that. The movie ends with the audience hearing a voice that sounds just like his.”

Jimin frowned. That sounds sad.

He sighed.

“Okay, guys, come on,” he said, ushering Jin to stand up. “It’s late and we have work tomorrow so you mister,” he patted Jin’s shoulders, “need to sleep early.”

He nodded.

“Where’s Taehyung?” Yoongi asked, watching Jimin grabbing onto Jin as best as he could. His head swerved side to side. “I thought he was behind us.”

“I told him to stay in the car or else he was going to go—”

“Are they okay?” Taehyung exclaimed, coming inside the home. Jimin gulped at the intensity of his voice and let Yoongi reply that yes, you and Jin were crying and were fine. A movie of yours just made you two cry.

“Stop him before he heads to her,” Jimin rushed out, the two of them—Jin, too—heading towards Taehyung’s way to stop him from seeing you.

Yes, he loved Jin, he loved him so much. But he has never seen you cry, unlike Jin. So, he was definitely going to head to you with his heart hammering against his chest, his hands balled up into fists, his lips slightly parted, and his need for you stronger than ever.

“Taehyung, she’s fine.”

Jimin blocked Taehyung’s path, but that didn’t stop the man. He softly pushed Jimin away, eyes set on you.

“Taehyung.”

Taehyung ignored the calls for his name and took long strides to reach you, hand traveling down to grip your wrist, and his other helping you stand up.

In a blink of an eye, his hand slithered around to wrap it around your waist, letting his palm rest on the small of your back. He brought you closer, his other hand traveling up your arm, to your shoulder, until it reached the back of your head. His lips were brushing against yours, breaths tingling and intertwining with the others, and you swore your lips were pulling to his like they were magnets.

His thumbs brushed away your tears.

“Give me permission to kiss you and I’ll do it,” he breathed out, holding you like he was inhaling you. “If that’s what will make you better.”

“You’re not asking,” you mumbled in a breath, your nose being hit by the faint smell of his cologne.

“Fuck, I just need to kiss you so badly, please,” he pleaded, fingers slightly gripping your hip until white dents were left behind in their wake. “Please.”

You nodded rapidly against his hold.

He breathed in and kissed you with such intensity and desire, almost as if he had been holding back for years from kissing you. Soft, muffled moans escaped his mouth into yours, his hand gripping your hair a bit tighter to bring you even closer.

“He’s devouring her,” Jimin whispered to the others while they watched you two make out almost in need. “I told you bringing him here was a bad—Taehyung, put her down.”

They watched Taehyung pick you up from the ground, hand situated on your ass while the other gripped your thigh. Your legs were wrapped around his waist, arms around his neck, and your lips still on his despite the change of position.

Kissing Taehyung felt like drinking water after being dehydrated for days, you noted.

His lips felt soft and the way he held you, touched you, and talked to you was enough for you to feel everything all at once. Every single guy made you feel more than you bargained for and you don’t know how to act. None of them knew how to act, either.

“No,” Taehyung dismissed Jimin, placing you on the wall with his hands still in his desired places. God, kissing you was a blessing itself, but having you in his hands all to himself was enough to keep him so happy and relieved. Kissing you was something. “She’s mine.”

“Okay, possessive bitch, leave her alone,” Jimin scoffed out, crossing his arms. Though, he couldn’t help but admit he loved watching you two fully make out in your home. Your safe place. “Make some space for me.”

Jin and Yoongi watched you and Taehyung go from kissing each other to now taking turns kissing the other person added. Your legs had unwrapped themselves from Taehyung’s waist, your feet now placed on the floor, and you were in between both men, caged in their arms, your lips smacking against Jimin’s and then Taehyung’s back and forth.

“This is a bad idea,” Yoongi sighed, shaking his head. “They’re eating her alive.”

“At least they won’t come to you every second of the day to ask for that,” Jin said with a chuckle, finding the scenery amusing. He glanced down at his watch. “It is getting late. Oh, God. That movie has some type of magic, my chest hurt for a sec, I swear.”

Yoongi nodded in agreement. “I know. I watched the movie by myself when I was sick and I couldn’t finish it. It was too painful.”

They continued to watch you three make out, their eyes following your guys’ hands touching and yearning for each other.

They weren’t going to lie but, they felt something in the pit of their stomachs just looking at you three.

Jimin and Taehyung’s hands gripped your waist, bringing you closer. Their breaths intertwined with your own, their moans, too. They kissed you as if you were going to leave, as if you would disappear if they stopped. What did you do to ever deserve this? And what did they ever do to be blessed with you? Not enough. They’ll do more for you. If you want the moon, they’ll find a way to buy it and name it after you. If you want the stars, they’ll buy every sparkly little piece of shit and name it after you. Your name deserves to grace beautiful things because you are the most beautiful of them all. Everyone deserves to utter your name when they look at the things the universe has graced them with.

“I need to breathe,” you softly breathe out, your hands on the back of their heads. You softly gasped as Taehyung’s lips trailed down your neck and Jimin claimed your lips again, both equally as bruising.

Jimin chuckled at the noise and looked at Taehyung. “Taehyung, let her breathe.”

Taehyung shook his head, teeth grazing the skin of your neck to suck on it. His lips kissed each mark he left behind before looking at you with the same hooded eyes he looked at you with.

“Do you want to breathe, angel?” He muttered, holding your face closer to his while the pad of his thumb ran itself over your bottom glossy lip. “Hmm?”

“Just for a sec.”

He smiled before he rubbed his lips against yours. “One.” As you went to ask him what he meant by that number, he kissed you. Jimin snorted and backed away, shaking his head.

“He’s much more tamer compared to when he got together with us,” he noted, very amused. “Should we warn her about that?”

Yoongi scoffed, shaking his head. “You’re going to scare her off before she could kiss us.” He gave you two one more look before he turned around. “Let the poor girl breathe, Taehyung. Pretty sure she’s about to faint.”

“I think I’m about to faint because of how it feels,” Taehyung muttered out loud, taking you back to the wall so he could feel you up better that way.

“He’s acting like a starved man,” Jin whispered rather dramatically, looking at you with worry. “I feel like we would lock him away for her safety, God.”

“Taehyung!” Jin snapped.

Taehyung didn’t flinch. Instead, he leaned back a bit, looking at them over his shoulder. He hummed, staring back at you and kissing your lips softly.

“Come on, you can see her tomorrow,” Jimin snorted out, loving the way you were much more comfortable.

“Why?” Taehyung muttered, tracing your lips. He couldn’t like away from them and your eyes. Your pretty eyes, such pretty eyes. He softly groaned. “God, don’t look at me like that please.”

“Taehyung.”

“You drive me so fucking crazy I’ll do anything for you,” he whispered as if it was a secret.

“Taehyung.”

“The way you taste and smell,” he continued to speak in a hush voice, lips trailing from your jawbone to your neck, “I could devour you whole.” He raised his head to look at you from under his lashes, his hand bringing up one of yours to kiss. “Will you let me?”

You smile and could see over his shoulder that the boys were looking at you three with happy eyes.

“Taehyung, if I say yes,” you started, “will you go home and go to sleep?”

“I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep until I have you,” he said, not looking away from your lips.

“Okay, you can see her tomorrow,” Jimin scoffed with a smile. He dragged Taehyung away from you, ignoring his attempts to convince him to let him go so he can stay here in your home. Yoongi grabbed him away. “Sweet dreams, pretty girl.”

Jimin kissed you on the lips, backing away to taste your chapstick. “Wear that flavor. It tastes good.”

You snorted and led them out, watching Yoongi and Jin place a desperate Taehyung on the backseat. You stood on your driveway and waved. Jin came back to give you a kiss on the forehead and Yoongi, much to everyone’s surprise, gave you a quick peck. His left you gasping in surprise. You couldn’t even enjoy it.

“Bye, angel.”

“Bye…”

Everyone was busy the next day Taehyung swore he would die if he didn’t see in that exact moment.

He was tugging on his hair until Hoseok had to intervene, slapping his hands away.

He was dozing off, thinking about you and the pillow talk you would have after spending the night together.

He was loving the way his brain would visualize how life would be with you in their relationship, complete. He can die happily knowing that he has all the loves of his life with him.

Jin couldn’t stop thinking about you, on the other hand. None of them could stop. You were so embedded in their brains, they swore they could hear your voice until they snapped their heads and you weren’t there.

What have you done to them?

What type of spell have you put on them?

They didn’t know what but, they loved thinking of you, and they couldn’t complain. No. They couldn’t and they wouldn’t.

It was 6 PM.

You have been “together” for 2 to 3-ish months today.

You maintained lowkey and on the low, and managed to convince everyone that you two were in a relationship. You had doubters here and there but nothing serious.

As for your allegations, there hasn’t been an improvement. It’s hard knowing who did it and not being able to point fingers because you do not have evidence or anything valuable of some sorts.

6:30 PM.

You were in a meeting with Jae and Jake, talking about the new movie you were with Hyung-min that you two have been going over with together. He was there, too, but he was a bit farther away from you. He didn’t want to even hug you just in case he accidentally hurt you.

At 6:32 PM, your phone went off.

At 6:33 PM, your phone went off again.

And again.

At 6:36, Jae’s went off next.

Then Jake’s.

Jae looked at her phone once she noticed you simply shut yours off and just as she was going to shut it off, too, she eyed her notifications.

Her eyes widened and she stood up.

“Oh, no.”

You frown and look at her. “What’s wrong?”

“Y/n… do not go on your phone,” she strictly told you, still looking at her phone. She was typing away and Jake, having looked down at his phone, too, felt his shoulders tense. “Call her PR team. Call the president of the company and alert a meeting ASAP.”

“Hey, what’s going on?” You frown, standing up alongside Hyung-min who had glanced at his phone, too, to see what had his girlfriend panicked. “Jae?”

“Babe, it came out,” Jae stressed, fixing her glasses slipping from the bridge of her nose.

“What did?” You asked, crossing your arms over your chest, your hands becoming clammy at the thought of something of yours coming out. “Jae?”

“That stupid thing Namjoon was threatening you with,” she snapped. She calmed herself down. She didn’t even feel this stressed over your bullying allegations. “Remember he said he had something about your sister?” You nodded. “Honey, it got leaked. It’s everywhere.”

“What?” You froze. Your brain froze. Your thoughts were not circulating no more, and you felt numb. “What? Give me the phone.”

You snatched her phone away from her hands and read the article she was reading.

Your chest heaved up and down at coming to see she was telling the truth.

“This can’t be happening. This can’t.”

“I know…”

“I hid that for a reason!” You exclaimed, starting to pace. Hyung-min stood next to you, comforting you. You breathed in and out harshly. “Oh, my God…”

Your secret was out.

< before - after >

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jealousjersey · 8 months ago

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౨ৎ⋆˚౨ “be a good boy” ৎ⋆｡౨ৎ

ᡣ𐭩 request by anon

ᡣ𐭩 sub!clapton x dom!reader

ᡣ𐭩 mentions // “good boy” , “mommy”, fem reader, female parts

ᡣ𐭩 tags // clapton davis x reader, soft!dom , edging, use of “mommy” as referred to reader, pet names , begging , unprotected p in v (wrap it) , oral sex, reader giving , dick sucking , cum drinking , blurb!

clapton has always teased you. whether it was your hair, your clothes or just you in general. and god it was pissing you off. you knew it had to root from some sick crush he has on you but it went so much deeper than that.

that is until you got to be alone with him. it’s like as soon as he came over to your house for some project, he was putty in your hands

“god….just please fuck me” he whimpers as your lips wrap about his tip, using your tongue as you swipe it just on his slit, causing precum to drip out of him.

“you know, you’ve been really bad these last few months, do you think you deserve to be punished? it’s only fair, don’t you think?” you remove your mouth from him and kiss his shaft, leaving lip gloss marks on the parts of him you can’t take in your mouth.

“y- yes mommy. i’ve been bad, please- please punish me. i’ll be a good boy for you….ill be your good boy” he whimpers, his hand almost desperate to push your head down to engulf his aching cock before he stops himself.

“now tell me, do you think you deserve to cum baby? tell me. do you think you deserve it?” you say, no remorse behind your eyes. you love seeing him like this, sweaty and down bad for you.

he shakes his head slowly as a look of defeat washes over him. he knows he doesn’t deserve to be inside you but god, how he wants it so badly. he’ll do almost anything for the taste of your cum.

“but i’ll spare you. i’ll fuck you, but you’ll have to be quiet if you want to cum, can you do that for me? be quiet for me?” you say as you press a kiss on his tip.

“y- yes…mommy.. uh - i…i can do that” he whimpers. but god knows he can’t keep quiet to save his life, always little whimpers and noises coming out of him. you remove your panties, the wetness pooling out of you. you push him back on the bed as you sit comfortably on his throbbing cock, making him whimper at the sensation of being inside your soft wet pussy

his eyes fall to the site of your thighs wrapped around him, his face turning red as he starts bouncing you on top of him, expertly hitting your gspot each time. “i- am- am i being good for you-?” he whimpers as his hands grip your hips, his eyes rolling back in his head as his jaw goes slack.

you look at him, grasping his chin with your hand, making him look at you. “look at me while i use you, let me ruin you. gonna make you such a little slut for me” you say. “gonna be my little whore right?” you say, still gripping his chin with your thumb and index finger, waiting for a response.

“m-mhm, yeah. gonna be your slut- oh fuck mommy-“ he says, his dick twitching inside of you, signaling he’s about to cum.

but god, he’s been so bad these last few weeks you can’t let him off that easily. you remove yourself from off top of him, watching your own release pool out of him, directly on his dick.

he immediately whimpers “no no no, please mommy- come back please…i need to cum- please mommy i’ve been so good” his voice is high and needy, his eyes are worried and panicked.

god, you can’t say no to him. you wrap your plus lips over the head of his dick, bobbing on his dick. your eyes dart up at him- his jaw is slack and his eyes are rolled deep in his head,

“fuck- yes…please mommy, god please.” he whimpers as a loud grunt escapes him. “be quiet if you want to cum” you say, mouth still full of his cock.

he quiets at your request, only letting small soft moans escape his lips. you take his full shaft. after a few moments you feel his hands grip your hair, and his dick twitching in your mouth.

“f- fuck i….m’gonna cum-“ he moans as he thrusts into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat. thank god you don’t have a gag reflex.

soon enough thick white warmness shots down your throat, drinking up every bit of his cum. he removes himself from your mouth, you truly drank every last drop of him. short and quiet “thank you”s leave him as he pants.

you wish he would talk back more often.

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orchidsangel · 1 year ago

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"NORMAL" FOR YOU (JASON TODD)

notes/cw ~ GN!reader, fluff, minorish angst (idk to me it's minor), has been renamed, (also this is only my second time ever writing in second person, i'm still learning so plz cut me some slack)

It’s 4:36 in the morning when the soft thud of boots landing on the fire escape outside your apartment interrupts the sleep you were finally starting to slip into; and it’s 4:37 when the window in your bedroom is pried open by large gloved hands, followed by the maneuvering of a large figure through said window.

Even with increased agility from years of training, he still manages to knock over a couple of the trinkets occupying your windowsill; and even though you can feel how tired he is from feet away, he still picks each item up off the floor, examining the objects for cracks or breaks before placing them back in their rightful spots.

“I don’t know why you keep coming through that window.” Drowsiness drips from your voice, but you know it’s nothing compared to what he’s feeling. “I cleared off the one in the living room to avoid this exact situation.”

“Coming in this way is just better.”

“Yeah, maybe for you, but not for my stuff.”

A breathy laugh escapes his lips, and he walks over to your side of the bed, placing his knee on the edge and his hands beside your head. His palms dig into the plush cotton of the pillows and blankets around you, and he hovers for a second, before dipping down and placing a soft kiss on your lips.

“I like when you’re the first thing I see after patrol.”

You look up at him to see the sleazy smile you know is on his face, but all you can focus on is the exhaustion evident in his features. Bags under his eyes and deep-set lines that would disappear with a couple of nights of good sleep riddle his face, and your mouth turns downward in a frown as you think about how badly he needs a night off.

He notices the way you react to the effects of his nightly activities and immediately gauges what's on your mind. “I can't,” he says, pulling back from you, standing up and turning around, starting the process of removing his tactical gear.

You suck in a tense breath, the sudden change in atmosphere giving you whiplash.

You watch his back as he removes the multiple layers of protective clothing that keep him coming home to you.

“Can’t what?” It’s a dumb question that you both know the answer to and have always known the answer to.

It’s a dumb question that you both know the answer to, but you ask anyway even though the answer remains the same and has remained the same since you found out about his ‘occupation.'

He lets out a sigh, moving towards the dresser and opening a drawer to find some pajamas.

“I can’t take a night off.” He lets his head drop, hands gripping the knobs, “and I can’t give you the life that you want…the normal life that you deserve.” The words come out strained, like they’re paining him, and they’re definitely paining you.

You refrain from saying anything, knowing that when he gets like this it’s better to give him some time to let his rationale come back instead of trying to sway his thoughts.

A beat of silence goes by, and he pulls out some clean clothes then disappears into the bathroom across the hallway, not before gently closing the bedroom door behind him, ever the considerate boyfriend, even in his self-loathing moments.

The back of your head hits the pillow behind you, and you exhale lightly. Eyes drooping and body feeling heavy, you pull the blanket up to your neck and try to let sleep takeover.

A few minutes pass before the soft sound of hinges squeaking interrupts the silence around you, and Jason shuffles around the room, quietly locking the window and putting stuff away.

The bed dips and he climbs under the covers, sliding one arm under your head and the other over your hip. Even in a sleepy, semi-agitated state you readily accept his warmth as a safety net.

“I wouldn’t be with you if I didn’t want to be.”

You feel him sigh against the back of your head, pulling you as close to him as possible, “I know.”

“Do you really?” You say slowly, fighting sleep. “Because it often feels like you don’t.”

No response.

“I don’t know what you think ‘normal’ is Jason, but if it doesn’t include you then I don’t want it.”

“I’m sorry," He whispers tentatively.

And your heart aches knowing the amount of love you give him may never be enough to heal the deep wounds leftover from years of being made to feel like a burden.

“You don’t have to apologize, but you do need to stop questioning my decision-making skills.” Your body shifts in his arms so you’re face to face with him, “I could do a whole lot worse than you.”

He lets out a wry chuckle that hides some sadness in it, “yeah…you’re right.”

You hum, satisfied with his lack of protest, and open your eyes long enough to see a content look on his face, before closing them once more.

For a few minutes you lay in silence wrapped in his arms, reveling in the comfort of each other's company.

But eventually you lose the battle to sleep, and your brain drifts off into a dream land. Everything in the world around you is temporarily gone while you explore the expanse of your subconscious, and a world where Jason takes a night off every once in a while.

“I love you.” He says quietly, barely audible.

And he knows you don’t hear it, so he’ll say it again in the morning; and every morning after that as long as you’re by his side.

#divider by cafekitsune #jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd imagine #red hood x reader #red hood imagine #jason todd fic #jason todd i’ll love you forever

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milkywaygalaxygurl · 1 month ago

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Caring - Arthur Fleck

i hated the way Joker 2 ended, so this is my alternate ending. sorry if this sucks booty, i haven’t written in a while 😭

Pairing: Arthur Fleck x Female!Reader

Warnings: probably slightly sad, reader doesn’t like Arthur at first (though she doesn’t treat him badly), probably cursing, smoking, reader is significantly younger than Arthur (i headcanon him as in his like late 30’s - early 40’s and reader is supposed to be 20ish)

Word Count: i’m too lazy to put it rn, will update later.

Being assigned to babysit Arthur Fleck had seemed like a slap to the face before you really knew him. You had spent your whole life studying Psych, just to be permanently assigned to caring for an insane criminal who miraculously happened to escape the death penalty. You had begged your higher up to give you any other patient, to assign you to any other case.

Your wishes were not granted. Instead, you were ordered to allow this strange man into your living space and to make sure he went to therapy and took his meds. All remnants of your old life were gone; You no longer lived alone, you no longer had the job you loved at the fancy psychiatric hospital on the West side of Gotham due to the fact that Arthur need 24/7 supervision. Everything changed and you were not happy about it.

Having Arthur move in was awkward, to say the least. He didn’t speak, he barely left his room, he barely ate. He just sat quietly in his room, smoking pack after pack. The only time he left it was for therapy, where he sat in your living room while you vacated the house for some much needed you time.

It annoyed you, having this strange man in your house who couldn’t even pay you the decency to speak to you or look you in the eyes. You had read his case file, read about his childhood, so you understood why he acted this way. You couldn’t place why it annoyed you until one day, when on your walk while he did therapy, you realized you were annoyed with yourself.

You had been able to get so many patients to open up to you in the hospital you worked at, but no matter what you did Arthur stayed closed up and distant. Nothing worked and you couldn’t understand why. It was on this walk that you had started to formulate a plan. You had decided to put this plan to use as soon as you got home and so, you did.

It started with simple things like inviting Arthur to eat meals with you at the dining table, he had denied the first few times but said yes when you had asked him to join you for dinner.

“You’re allowed to leave your room, y’know? You’re not in Arkham anymore, you’re free to roam the house and do whatever you please.” You spoke softly, wiping your mouth with a napkin as you look up at Arthur. He nods, taking a bite of his food.

You want to scream, yell at him to say something, but you know that wouldn’t do anything but cause him to retreat further into his shell. Him even joining you for dinner was a big step, you had to remind yourself. Taking a deep breath, you speak again.

“It’s good to see you eat, thank you for joining me. Maybe we could do this for every meal?” You smile warmly at him when he looks up at you, his eyes almost shocked that you even offered. He nods again, looking back down at his plate.

You smile to yourself, happy that he even agreed. “I was thinking of watching a movie tonight, if you’d like to join me.” You take a bite and nearly choke when he speaks.

“I- I’d like that. What movie?” His voice is soft, timid. It makes your heart ache, hearing how unsure he sounds with his voice. You swallow your food and the pain, instead smiling brightly at him.

“I’m not sure yet, maybe you can pick?” Your words seem to make him smile, and you swear your heart falters at the sight of it. It’s easily one of the most beautiful smiles you’ve ever seen.

“I’m not sure you’d know anything I’d prefer.” He says it softly, so softly you barely hear.

“That’s okay! I love watching new things, so pick whatever you’d like.” He nods, still smiling, and looks back down at his plate. You realize that’s the end of the conversation, but you don’t mind. This is amazing progress. You both finish your meal and settle into the living room once the dishes are cleaned, as promised you let Arthur pick whatever he wants.

After that night, it becomes a daily occurrence for him to join you for every meal and a movie after dinner. You take turns picking, Arthur introducing you to old movies and you introducing him to newer ones. It was nice, you could almost convince yourself that he wasn’t just a patient you were assigned to.

After months of getting to know the man, you couldn’t deny the fact that he is more than just a patient to you. He had become a friend and, whether you liked to admit it or not, you had developed a crush on Arthur. He looked good after having home cooked meals for the past few months, he no longer looked sickly and had even started to build some muscle by helping you around the house.

“You look good!” You smile brightly, seeing him in an outfit he had picked out. He was in need of a new wardrobe after gaining some weight, so you had taken him shopping. He smiles at you through the reflection in the mirror before looking at himself, still smiling.

“I vote yes for this outfit, it’s adorable.” He had picked out a yellow corduroy jacket with brown corduroy pants to match and a purple shirt to go under the jacket. He truly looks amazing in it. He nods his head and goes back to try on another outfit. You leave the store with at least 10 new outfits for him, he just looked too damn good in everything.

“Did you have fun?” You ask, nudging him softly with your shoulder as you walk.

“I did, thank you.” He had seemed to become more confident in himself as you got to know each other, his voice no longer quiet. It made you happy to see, to hear.

“Good, I’m glad! I got the clothes a little big so you could grow into them, you still gotta get some more meat on you.” You giggle and he laughs as well, a real genuine laugh. It makes your cheeks warm, but you’d blame it on the cold if he were to ask.

Your cheeks warm further when he timidly grabs your hand, pulling you a little closer to him. “I-It’s cold.” He says with a shrug when he sees your questioning look. You smile to yourself and shake your head, continuing your walk back to the house.

Later that night, you two are watching a movie when he suddenly breaks the silence. “Thank you for giving me a chance, Y/N. I-I know it wasn’t easy for you, having me come here and invade your space. You- You still tried though, you fought through my shell and you’ve been taking such good care of me.” His words warm your heart, tears almost rising to your eyes.

“Of course, Arthur. I’d do it again a million times if it brought me here, to this exact moment. You’re so much more than just an assignment to me now, you’re honestly my best friend.” You each for his hand as you speak, taking it into my own and squeezing it.

“My-My therapist encouraged me to share something with you, but I’m-I’m a little scared.” You immediately pause the movie when he says this and give him your undivided attention.

“You can tell me anything, Arthur. Anything.” You take his other hand in yours, squeezing them both as you turn to face him on the couch.

“Well I-You-“ He seems to struggle with his words and you smile at him encouragingly, waiting for him to find the right words.

“I’ve never known what’s real and what isn’t, but I know that you’re real. I know the feelings I have for you are real.” You’re heart leaps to your throat at his words, your eyes going wide.

“W-What do you mean?” You ask, not wanting to get your hopes up.

“These last few months have been the best of my life, Y/N. I think-I know that I love you.” Barely able to contain yourself, you lunge forward and hug him.

“I’ve been falling for you since the moment you smiled at me that first night we shared dinner.” You say, your face buried in his shoulder.

“R-Really?” He asks, pushing you back softly so he can look at you.

“Of course, Arthur. How could I not fall for this beautiful smile?” You ask, cupping his face and softly rubbing his smile lines with your thumbs. His smile widens at that and he surges forward to hug you tightly.

“Thank you.” He whispers into the crook of your neck, holding you snug to him.

“For what?” You ask, pulling back to look at him.

“For noticing me, for seeing me.” He almost whispers, his eyes full of unshed tears. Your own eyes fill with tears as you lean forward to kiss him softly, trying to put all of your love into the action.

“It’s my pleasure, Arthur.”

#arthur fleck x reader #arthur fleck #joker x reader #joker folie a deux #joker 2

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alltheirdamn · 11 months ago

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A Bounty for Reward (Mando x f!reader)

CHAPTER 4

Summary: It was bound to happen eventually, right? Warnings: SMUT (finally, finally, finally!!), masturbation (f & m), unprotected PIV sex, creampie, mentions of blood & violence, language, umm.... missing anything else?? Word count: 6.5k A/N: I told y'all it was coming 👀

You woke up with a raging headache. Which fucking sucked. But your back had finally stopped aching, and you thanked the Maker that Mando let you use his bed. Last night had been weird between the two of you; something unspoken and tense. You clenched your thighs while you remembered how hard he was when he spoke to you. Maybe your grogginess had played tricks on your brain, but you could still picture the outline of his cock straining against his pants. Being stuck on this ship with him was slowly starting to wither away your self-restraint. For most of your life, you retracted away from any man and their advances; you hated how they stared and spoke to you. Kesi had weaponized your body until you became hollow inside. Men disgusted you. They had only wanted one thing, and you were forced to give it away. But something about Mando made you rethink how a man could act and make you feel. And it was fucking confusing.

The sound of the cockpit door opening only amplified the throbbing inside your head. You wanted silence— for the first time in forever. As badly as you craved his presence, you craved the solitude even more. Which made no fucking sense since you had spent the majority of the last several days alone.

“Sleep okay?” Mando’s modulated voice broke the silence.

“Hmph.” You rolled over, pulling the blanket over your head. The throbbing wouldn’t stop, and it was driving you crazy.

“Wanna get off the ship?” He asked.

Of course, you did. You wanted nothing more than to feel the sun on your skin again, to breathe in air that wasn’t recirculating around you. Peaking out from under the blanket, you saw Mando staring at you; helmet tilted to the side. Was he amused with you?

“Yeah,” you sighed, wrapping the blanket around you as you sat up. “Yeah, that would be nice.”

“Good. Get dressed.”

Something about the dominance in his voice had you clenching your thighs together again. He watched you unwaveringly as you stood and grabbed your pants from the floor next to the bed. Your head still throbbed, but now so did your cunt. He was screwing with your mind.

Mando stalked away to open the ramp as you finished putting on your shoes, and you followed him mindlessly.

“Put this on,” he demanded, handing you your hooded jacket, long since abandoned after the first night.

You slipped it on, pulling the hood over your head. The idea of leaving the ship had you buzzing with excitement. You knew you were on Nevarro, and maybe you could find an escape–although a small part of you was reluctant to leave. There was a cocoon of safety in Mando’s grasp, but you wouldn’t give up on the hope of freedom just yet.

The sun glared down on you through parted clouds as you trailed behind Mando’s armored body. He had instructed a group of men to carry out the bounties from the carbonite chamber, and now you followed him into the heart of the city, where you were overly aware of the commotion as Mando walked through the crowds. Some eyes lingered on you, and the paranoia began to set in. Was anyone searching for you? You still didn’t know where Kesi had gone, and the fact he was still alive set your nerves alight. You quickened your pace to match Mando’s, afraid of falling behind and into the blur of bodies.

“Where are we going?” You asked.

Mando focused on the busy streets as he nodded toward a cantina tucked away into one of the alleyways.

“Guild business?” You guessed.

“Something like that,” he huffed.

You trailed him inside, drowning out the mindless taunting of men outside the entrance. You had grown accustomed to their snide remarks and sexualized jokes; it didn’t phase you. But you noticed how Mando sized each of them up, and their words and laughter died out as you walked past.

The cantina was loud and crowded with what you assumed were other guild members. You were acutely aware of their weapons strapped to their belts. Unease coursed through you as you remembered you were still wanted, and it only made you want to stick closer to Mando. He led the way towards an empty booth near the back of the cantina, gesturing for you to sit. You slid into it, tugging your hood further over your forehead and eyes.

“Stay here.”

You swallowed, nodding as he turned from the booth and walked away. He joined a man a few stalls over, sliding into a spot with a direct view of yours. It was unclear whether Mando was staring at you or the man before him, the direction of his helmet giving away nothing.

Minutes passed by without issue, and you grew fidgety in the booth. Your eyes darted around the cantina, wondering how easy it could be to slip out and run. You had done it once before with Mando, but you hadn’t been successful. But he hadn’t been preoccupied last time. He wouldn’t abandon his meeting just to catch you, right? It was laughable even to think he’d let you slip away. Sighing, you shrunk back into the leather padding, slowly returning your gaze to him. His helmet was cocked sideways, facing directly at you. Maker, your heart plummeted into your stomach. He could paralyze you from that stare alone.

So, you played along.

You gave him a slight grin, leaning your chin into your hand as you eased forward. You watched him, transfixed, and noted how his body straightened. Whoever he was talking to was blissfully unaware of your effect on him. He gave a nearly imperceptible shake of his head, and you chuckled. This was fun. Like last night, you sunk your teeth into your bottom lip and observed how tense his body became. He had been so awkward last night with you, and you had considered it may have just been who he was, but maybe it was more than that. Maybe you turned him on, and warmth bloomed in your stomach at the idea of it. Having that sort of power over a man–let alone a Mandalorian—was thrilling.

The teasing was entertaining until it wasn’t. Shortly after garnering another shake of his head, a drunken patron fell into the booth, his drink sloshing onto the tabletop. You retracted back, hugging your arms to your chest. The man gave you a toothy grin, his words slurring as he introduced himself.

You lied about your name, offering a polite smile. He took another gulp of his drink, slamming it down all too charismatically.

“Y’sure are beautiful,” he slurred. “Would like to take you home.”

“You wish,” you rolled your eyes.

The stench of his breath wafted toward you as you squirmed in the booth. His drunken smile from before was replaced with an apparent frown, clearly displeased with your remark. Reaching over the table, he pawed at your body, trying to find anything to grab. You lurched forward, sending a resounding slap across his face.

“Don’t fucking put your hands on me,” you growled. Fuck, you wish you had your vibroblade again.

A few heads turned at the sound, their voices hushed as they regarded the scene between you and the drunken man. He was pissed off now, reaching out for you again, this time more successful with a quick grab of your wrist. You reached for his drink, shattering it against the table. Gripping a piece of the broken glass, you held it at eye-level toward him, a snarl forming on your lips. He held up his hands in protest, eyes glazed over in fear.

“Do it!” You shouted. “I fucking dare you!”

The crowd around you grew silent, but you could only focus on the glass tightening in your grip. It pierced your skin until you felt the slice of it dig into your palm. The blood dripping from your hand unphased you as your heart thrummed with adrenaline. Let him fucking come near you. Let him try to touch you again. A glint of silver danced in your peripheral, and Mando approached the booth with a hand on his blaster.

“Out,” he demanded, grabbing the man by the collar. He tossed him to the ground with little effort, his helmet glancing between him and you. You lowered the shard of glass to the table, wiping your palm against your pants. Mando’s chest rose as he inhaled, and he silently extended a hand towards you. Your impulse was to flinch, but you trusted him not to hurt you, so you took it willingly. His gloved fingers wrapped around yours, and you trailed him out of the cantina without another word.

Pulling you into the alleyway, Mando pushed you against the wall and surveyed your body. Your breath hitched as he grabbed for your injured hand, turning it over to inspect the cut. It was still bleeding, but you had long since forgotten the pain. Everything had been a blur. Tugging it from his hold, you cradled your hand into your chest and stared at the black visor.

“I’m fine,” you insisted. “Just a cut.”

“He touched you.” It wasn’t a question.

You only nodded, scanning the alley for any stragglers from the bar. You hadn’t meant to get so angry or violent, but it seemed to be an ongoing thing with these unwanted advances. Kesi had ruined you in the worst way possible. Staring up at the passing clouds, you forced your tears back and focused on breathing. Mando would never take you back out of the ship now that you had gone and made a fool of yourself.

“Stay here,” he ordered.

Mando had been acutely aware of her presence inside the cantina. She had been taunting him with small smiles the entire time as he tried to focus on the conversation with Karga. Had last night sparked something between them? It was clear she was trying to push his buttons, see how far she could take the teasing until he snapped. At this rate, it wouldn’t be fucking long. Under the protection of his helmet, he found his eyes wandering towards her each time she shifted in the booth.

And then someone slipped into it with her. He stiffened, watching their interaction unfold in front of him. Karga was blissfully unaware of the spectacle as he rambled about taking more pucks, yet Mando had long forgotten what they were discussing. His hand itched towards his blaster as the man leaned forward into her, only to be shocked to see her send a sharp slap across his face. Rage filled his veins when the man did it a second time. But then the sound of glass shattering rattled around the loud cantina, silencing everyone. Her voice raised above everyone as she dared him to touch her again. Mando took note of the glass in her hand and quickly vacated the booth to step in.

A multitude of thoughts swarmed his mind as he hauled her out of the cantina into the alley. First, someone had put their hands on her. Second, she was a force to be reckoned with when angry. And third, she was bleeding. Mando didn’t know which made him more upset. But the fear in her eyes was enough to make him see red.

And he had been itching to kill someone since he returned for her on Tatooine.

Mando pulled the blaster from his hip as he entered the cantina again. The tension in the air was palpable as he stalked towards the man still cowering on the floor. He aimed the blaster at his chest, unphased at the sheer terror in the man's eyes.

“Mando!” Karga yelled, stepping over the man and into the direct line of his outstretched arm.

He lowered the blaster, glancing between Karga and the man. His finger twitched against the trigger, just waiting for the moment to shoot.

“Now, now,” Karga bristled. “No need for violence here! Right?”

Mando’s jaw clenched, and he stepped towards Karga. He held up his hands in defeat, giving Mando one of his signature grins.

“Just let it go, Mando,” he urged.

But Mando couldn’t let it go, no matter how badly he wanted to. He had never been a man to act so impulsively, but the sight of her shaking and bleeding was enough to fuel the rage inside his heart. Every fiber of his being screamed to protect her.

“Move,” he gritted out.

“Walk away,” Karga demanded.

But Mando didn’t falter, nor did his grip on the blaster. He held it at waist level, flicking it to the side until Karga got the hint. He didn’t give a second thought to it as he put a hole in the man’s chest. The rage inside him didn’t let up, but he forced his weapon back into its holster and exhaled for the first time in minutes.

“I’ll be back in a week with more bounties,” he nodded at Karga.

Karga had nothing to respond, his focus on the dead man lying on the cantina floor.

Mando returned to the alley, finding her still standing paralyzed against the wall. Her eyes were rimmed red from crying, and his rage was replaced with some form of guilt that slithered its way into his heart. He should have known taking her here would be dangerous. But she had been trapped within the confines of his ship for nearly a week, and he wanted to grant her some freedom—even if it wasn’t exactly what she wanted.

“Let’s go,” he grumbled, extending his hand.

She hesitated. But then she slipped her delicate hand into his, and he led her out of the city and back to the Crest. Mando still buzzed with the lingering anger from the cantina, but he shoved down those emotions and forced himself to focus on her. She was quiet as he guided her to sit on one of the crates, and he searched his med pack for some bacta. He found what he needed, including something to bandage her hand, and crouched in front of her, reaching for her hand. Reluctantly, she let him take it, unfurling the tight fist she had made. The cut wasn’t deep, but enough to scar— a scar that could have been avoided had he not been so selfish in taking her with him. He wanted to give her a moment in the sun, a moment away from this fucking ship. This space between them was growing smaller, and he needed to find any way to create some distance. But they were just spiraling closer together.

“It’ll sting,” he muttered.

She nodded, sniffling back more tears. He sprayed the wound and felt her body twitch from the pain. He unraveled the bandage and started wrapping it around her hand. It felt so small in his, so soft, and his fingers worked slowly as he tied it off. Rubbing slow circles over her palm, Mando lifted his head to look at her, only to find she was already focusing on him. Those big doe eyes stared straight through his visor and into his soul—picking him apart piece by piece.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

He mindlessly drew those circles over the bandage until her hand closed around his. With a soft squeeze of her fingers, she drew his hand to her lips and gently kissed his knuckles. The breath stalled inside him, watching as her lips grazed over his gloves. Despite all he had done, all he was, she was giving away small pieces of herself to him. And he selfishly wanted more. But he was undeserving of it, and everything he was raised to become shouted for him to stop.

“I killed him.”

Her mouth stopped moving against his knuckles. He pulled away and stood over her, her eyes trailing up his body. There wasn’t an ounce of remorse or fear in her eyes when he said those words—instead, a smirk played on her lips.

“Good. Fucker deserved it. Could’ve done it myself if you let me.”

Mando laughed, a genuine one he hadn’t heard in a while. She continued to surprise him.

“You ever kill someone?” He asked, piecing back together his medpac to stow away.

He looked over his shoulder to see her shaking her head. Something about it relieved him, knowing she didn’t have death on her hands, but she was willing to do it. Mando wondered if her being around him long enough would change that, would make him the dangerous one.

“I’ve wanted to,” she sighed, standing from the crate and moving towards him. “So many times.”

They were only feet apart now, and Mando felt the thrum of his heart in his chest growing faster. Her hair was disheveled from the hood on her jacket, and without thinking, he reached out to tuck a strand behind her ear. She didn’t flinch from him for the second time today. He felt triumphant knowing he had won her trust, even in the smallest of things.

“I hope you never have to,” he spoke.

Her eyes were still glossy with earlier tears, but a firmness in her look told him enough. Someone had used her before—in what way, Mando could only guess. He had started piecing together the things she had offered him, and nothing amounted to being a criminal. She didn’t sell spice, she didn’t use it, she hadn’t killed anyone… She wasn’t worth a bounty. Not that she wasn’t worth it, just that she didn’t deserve it.

“How many have you killed?” She whispered, breaking through his spiraling thoughts.

“Enough.”

“What does it feel like?”

Mando sighed, letting his hand fall away from her hair. “For a Mandalorian, survival is everything. If death forces us to defend and survive, then it is the only answer.”

“It’s part of your Creed, right?” She asked.

Sharing something so intimate and sacred with someone other than a Mandalorian felt foreign to him.

“This is the Way,” he nodded.

“The Way,” she echoed.

Then she let out a small laugh, the corners of her lips creasing into her cheeks. Mando cocked his head to the side, trying to understand what about this conversation was so comical.

“I think that’s the most you’ve said to me,” she grinned.

He couldn’t help but smile to himself, too. She was starting to fester her way under his skin, force him out of his comfort zone, and slowly enjoy the presence of another for the first time in his life. He sort of enjoyed it.

“Bacta might wear you out a bit,” he cleared his throat, quickly changing the subject. “Bed’s all yours.”

She frowned, crossing her arms over her chest. Mando made quite the effort not to stare as her forearms pushed up her breasts.

“Where will you sleep?”

“Cockpit,” he replied. “Don’t sleep much, honestly.”

“Take the bed,” she insisted. “I’ll be fine on the floor.”

It was tempting—sleeping near her. But Mando didn’t trust himself; didn’t trust he wouldn’t find his way into the bed with her when she clearly didn’t want that. He wouldn’t abuse the trust he had built with her, no matter how much he ached to be between her thighs. Fuck, he needed to let off some steam.

“I’ll be fine,” he said. “Gonna use the refresher and be on my way.”

She nodded slowly, clearly not convinced, but relented. Retiring to the bed, she gingerly crawled in and wrapped herself in the blanket. Mando watched as she tucked her injured hand close to her chest and noticed her eyes still locked on him. If she looked at him any longer, Mando would lose his cool.

Ducking into the refresher, Mando let the water rain down on him and flood his mind. He was achingly hard, and it wasn’t long before his hand wound around his cock, stroking slowly. He tried hard not to picture her, her big eyes, or how she’d bite her lips. He tried not to think of her legs wrapped in his sheets or the swell of her breasts under her shirt. But the harder he squeezed his cock, the stronger those thoughts became. He imagined how tight she’d feel around his cock, and the noises she’d make. He stroked himself faster, feeling his muscles tense on the precipice of release, and with one long stroke, he was grunting into the tile walls and spilling himself onto the floor.

You tried to erase the sound of his orgasm from your mind; you really did. But Mando had long since retired to the cockpit, and you found your uninjured hand snaking down past the waistband of your pants and sliding through your wet folds. You hadn’t imagined those noises—you knew that. You had spent years listening to the disgusting sound of men orgasming, but this was different. His voice was rough and unmodulated, and fuck if it didn’t make your core ache with need. It had been so long since you had touched yourself like this, and part of you knew how embarrassing it was. You were trapped on the ship with your bounty hunter, rubbing circles around your clit imagining how his tongue would feel instead.

Fuck.

Your body wound itself tight as you teased your way closer, basking in that momentary bliss before your climax crescendoed, hoping, for your sake, your noises would be quieter than his. Burying your head into the blankets, you exhaled a moan and felt your body spasm around your fingers. Maker, it was the best orgasm you had in a while. And all you could think about was him.

Your body was exhausted from the short time on Nevarro, but the bacta was slowly wearing off, making your hand throb in pain. You didn’t regret what you did. And you were telling the truth when you said you wished you had killed him. Maybe that would make you a murderer like Mando, but you wanted to reclaim yourself piece by piece, even if that meant some people had to die.

Restless in the small bed, you found yourself climbing the ladder to the cockpit and knocking softly on the metal door. A moment passed before it slid open, and Mando looked over his shoulder at you silently.

“Couldn’t sleep,” you explained. “Can I join you?”

He grunted in response, tilting his helmet towards the empty seat beside him. You squeezed yourself through the small space, taking note of the control panels and functions. You weren’t thinking about stealing his ship, but knowing how it operated was interesting. Plus, the mechanic in you was just eager to see such an old ship and its hardware. The cargo hold had been your sanctuary the last several days, and having a new scenery was a nice change. Seeing the galaxy expand around you in a vastness you couldn’t fathom was even nicer.

“I’ve never really seen the galaxy like this before,” you commented, leaning forward to watch the stars pass.

“Really?” Mando asked, his visor focused on the space in front of you.

You shook your head, a tinge of sadness crawling up your chest. “No. Any time I’ve traveled to different planets, I’ve always been… put away, I guess?” You cringed at even the thought of it.

Kesi made sure to hold you in the shittiest part of a ship when he took you to and from spice trades. You were confined to solitude before meeting his clients and then deposed just as fast. The last few years of your life were spent between ships, inns, and shady cantinas. That’s why you craved your life back on Coruscant—you could go anywhere and do anything.

In your peripheral, you saw his head turn to you. Your emotions were bubbling to the surface, and you continued to stare out the windshield at the stars instead of meeting his gaze. You didn’t fully trust yourself not to cry. You didn’t cry often; you wouldn’t let yourself succumb to those emotions, but something about the admission left a lingering feeling deep within you.

“It’s—,” you laughed, trying to shake back the tears. “It’s not a big deal. Really.”

“Kesi hurt you.”

Mando said it plainly like it was a fact and not a question. There was no use holding back the tears, but you turned away to wipe them, hoping you could still look strong. You were learning how to take back the power that Kesi stole from you—including your own emotions.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” you said, tucking your legs into the seat.

Mando gave you a stiff nod and leaned back in his chair. Silence surrounded you, wrapping you both in this strange comfort that you didn’t necessarily hate. You enjoyed the quiet, even with him beside you.

“Where are we going?” You eventually asked.

“Adelphi. Got a bounty there.”

“Can I join you?”

“No,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest.

You weren’t surprised he said no. Bounty hunting was his lifestyle, not yours, and you had to continuously remind yourself you weren’t anything but a bounty to him. But the lines were blurring between being a bounty and being… a friend? Maybe calling him a ‘friend’ was a bit extreme and premature, but you were enjoying the company as much as you could tolerate it.

You still wished to regain your freedom, but for now, you’d enjoy being in his presence.

The nav panel started blaring for the descent, stirring you awake in the chair. You hadn’t even realized you’d fallen asleep, but the planet before you was bright and proved to be a new day. Mando flew the Crest through the atmosphere and towards a deserted beach. The landing was smooth, and before the wheels could finish sinking into the sand, Mando was out of the chair and moving through the cockpit. You followed him into the ship's hull, watching as he collected his sniper from the armory wall and slid it over his shoulder. He grabbed one more thing before shutting it and turning to you. Extending his hand, he revealed a wrist comlink and motioned for you to give him your arm.

“It’s synced up to mine,” he explained, lifting his wrist. “I’ll notify you when I get close to the ship so you can prepare the chamber.”

He wasn’t taking you on the hunt…but letting you help, which meant a lot.

You let him slide the comlink onto your wrist, and you turned it over to inspect the technology. You’d never used one before, but you had some basic knowledge to get you by. When he called, you would answer; simple as that.

“Won’t be more than a few hours,” he assured you.

“Okay,” you nodded. “Um, be safe.”

Mando tilted his head to the side, and you imagined he was smiling at you. Maybe he was, or maybe he was just as stoic as his voice and body language. Either way, you meant what you said because without him… well, you didn’t really know. You could take the ship. You could fly back to Coruscant. But would you be safe?

“Be good,” he ordered, his voice strained.

His words sent a shiver down your spine, as it did every time he was more authoritative with you, and you wondered how many times you could get off before he came back. Idiot. Forcing yourself out of your mind and into the present, you watched him walk out onto the sandy beach and close you back into the confines of the ship.

Just a few hours, you told yourself.

Hours later, Mando com’d you to open the ramp. You had busied yourself with the carbonite chamber again, trying to find solutions for the valve issue. You sat down your tools and glanced at him as he made his way into the hull, his beskar dripping in the afternoon sunlight. He had his bounty in tow, this one alive and heavily bruised. His skin was flushed red, even more so with the trail of blood that leaked down his chin. The bounty’s eyes never left yours, his teeth barring a smile scary enough to make your skin crawl.

“Keep moving,” Mando grunted, shoving the bounty toward the carbonite chamber. His helmet glanced at you, confused by the tools at your feet. You shook your head in response, nonverbally giving him the ‘okay’ to use it.

“I didn’t know you kept pets around, Mando,” the bounty’s voice was hoarse, a cough spurting more blood onto his clothes.

Mando was quick to push the bounty into the chamber, his hand punching the buttons to capture and freeze the tattered body that stood in front of you. There was a momentary pause in the freezing process, but then it started up again to continue. Mando’s helmet looked down at the tools again, slowly raking over your body to meet your eyes.

“What’s this?” he asked, an edge to his tone still noticeable.

“I wanted to see what else I could do to help with the freezing component,” you explained, shifting your weight under his glare. “I thought I would fix it before you returned. It stalled a moment right now, but it just needs a simple system restart to help the carbonite process run smoother.”

“Hmm,” was all he responded.

There wasn’t much space between you and Mando, the smell of smoke intoxicating the air around you. His chest rose and fell with heaviness as if he was recovering from running miles— which he probably had. There was something so infatuating about his demeanor after a hunt; the combative urges inside him still burning under his armor. The emoting rage still fizzled inside his muscles as his hands tensed at his sides. His stare had you paralyzed, your body pressed against the wall of the cargo hold. Something inside you flickered, your core growing warmer the longer he stared. There were so many unspoken words, so many lingering needs. The silence stretched longer, and you began to worry something was wrong. He wasn’t saying anything; he was just standing there.

“Mando,” your voice was meek, more than you expected. All your confidence was forlorn; wanton need taking control of your body.

He stepped closer, hands placed at either side of your head until he had you boxed in, his thigh nudging your legs to spread apart. Instinctively, you did, grinding your hips upward against his knee as he positioned his body in between your legs. You should’ve been embarrassed, but you couldn’t help yourself from giving in to the urges that lingered inside you. His helmet angled down to look at you, and you felt the amusement of his stare even through the visor. You would never see his face, but the fierce need to know the look in his hungry eyes consumed your thoughts. Maker, to see the way his eyes danced with rage and desire was enough arousal in itself.

“Tell me to stop,” he choked out. “You shouldn’t want—.”

“I want this,” you whispered.

You let out a shaky breath, feeling the weight of his chest press against yours. The smell of combat still lingered on his clothes, and you knew he had hurt someone just hours before returning. He should scare you; you should be terrified of Mando in all aspects. But you were undoubtedly infatuated with him, constantly under some spell that continued to draw you in. He intrigued, puzzled, and challenged you to defy all hatred you once had for any man. The closer you got to the fire, the further your emotions were stripped away, burning in the chaos he created around you.

Taking control, you brought his hand down to your hips, guiding it to your zipper, and moved it slowly under the elastic waistband of your underwear. The leather of his glove was warm to the touch, catching softly on the slick skin of your cunt. His fingers took control, dipping between the wet folds and slowly teasing your entrance. Instinctively, your hips bucked forward, the need for his fingers inside you growing stronger. He knew it, too, as his fingers circled your clit slowly— agonizingly. The ache in your core grew stronger, your heartbeat drumming loudly inside your ears.

“Please,” you begged, your head falling against the wall.

Mando’s free hand moved to pull your face forward, his hand encapsulating your jaw with a firm grip. His thumb traced over your lips, teasing your mouth open and gathering the saliva that pooled on your tongue.

“Please, what?” His voice darkened, the monster inside him lurking around the corner. All he needed was a nudge; then, you could have what you wanted.

“Fuck me.”

As if a switch flipped inside of him, Mando’s hands moved to yank away your pants, tearing the fabric of your underwear in the sequence of events. It didn’t register in your head how quickly he was able to shove you up the wall and collect your legs around his waist. Your thighs squeezed against his hips, flesh meeting the cool touch of his armor. It rippled goosebumps up your body, the temperature spiking higher in your core. A low growl left his throat as he undid his zipper, angling the length of his cock against the soaking entrance of your cunt. Everything inside you clenched around him, a stinging pain lasting only a second as your body stretched to fit his thick cock. Maker, it hurt, but he felt so fucking good.

The cargo hold around you grew louder with the mixture of your whines, his grunts, and the disgusting sound of your cunt around his cock. He wasn’t just fucking you; he was wrecking you with each thrust that pounded into you harder every time. Mando’s strength leveraged his control as he gripped your hips high enough to angle himself right at the apex of your cunt. Everything around you blurred into a haze of euphoria and rapture as he brought you to the brink of an orgasm. He could sense it, too, the thrusts coming into a steady rhythm as it hit your core with feverish force.

“Fuck, Mando,” you gasped.

The shudder that erupted from you paralyzed his movements, your cunt clenching with each throb that rippled through your body. Your nails dug into the fabric of his suit as you muffled a scream into the cowl around his neck.

“No,” he bit out, yanking you back with a fistful of hair. “I want to hear you.”

Mando pulled you from the wall, tossing you down against a wooden crate, toppling a few loose items in the mix. Burying himself to the base of his cock, Mando placed your legs over one shoulder, folding over you as he drilled into you with a force so blindingly hard you couldn’t hold back the screams that escaped you. He was ripping into you, the brute force of his thick cock bringing you to the edge of another orgasm. A gloved hand carded through your hair, gripping the tendrils under the nape of your neck until you had no choice but to stare into the visor of his helmet while you came wholly undone.

Another orgasm tore through you, tears pouring down your cheeks as you gave way to the release that shook your thighs. Mando let out a satisfied moan, his hips rocking into you slowly, his body tensing up as he spilled himself inside you. He filled you perfectly as if every part of him had been made for you and you alone.

Mando remained there for a moment, a firm hand rubbing your calves to soothe the tension in your legs. Your head fell back against the crate's edge, your eyes blacking out to the space around you. A thin layer of sweat pooled on your chest, small trails falling down your shoulders and neck. Everything smelled of smoke and sex, and your core clenched again with lingering aftershocks of his thrusts. Mando stifled a grunt, feeling your body respond against his cock, and you felt it growing harder again inside you.

“Maker,” he exhaled, fingers trailing up your legs as they kneaded the plush skin of your thighs. He dug into your hip bones with bruising force, a small yelp leaving your throat.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he whispered, bowing his head over your body.

You moved a leg shakily over his head, situating it on his other shoulder. You had him framed between your legs, staring at the perfect outline of a terrifying man. He could kill you— hell, he even had every reason to do it if he wanted. But instead, he was infatuated with you, the power your body held being a stronger vice than the power to kill you. That power thrummed in your veins, and you desperately latched on to it, afraid you’d lose it again like before.

Reaching a hand down, Mando made small agonizing circles around your clit. Thrusting himself into you, this time working slower and deeper, his movements were focused on making you cum again. His cock slipped in and out messily, the mixture of his cum and yours being the perfect lubricant to fuck you with.

“Fuck, you feel so fucking good,” he grunted, his thumb pressing down on the bundle of nerves that throbbed harder with every stroke.

“I’m gonna cum again,” you cried, biting your lip to stifle another scream.

His movements deepened, his hips grinding against your ass as he took you to the base of his cock and kept you there. His weight trapped you, the pressure on your clit sending your mind reeling as you focused on the surge of another release pounding in your abdomen.

“C’mon,” he crooned, his thumb rubbing harder, “You’re right there, cum for me.”

His voice shot you into another wave of release, your mouth crying out for him. Your legs clenched around his neck, drawing him deeper inside you as the throbbing in your ears grew louder. You could hardly hear him as he punched out your name, cumming again inside you.

Slumping over your body, the heaviness of his helmet rested on your shoulder as both your chests rose and fell with heavy breaths. His fingers tangled in your hair, smoothing strands from your sticky forehead. You were disgustingly sweaty, the tattered shirt sticking to your skin along with the dirt that rubbed off from his armor.

“You’re fucking heavy,” you chuckled, pushing against his chest plate.

Mando let himself rise momentarily, only to fall back onto your chest lazily. Coughing out a laugh, you nudged his side, urging him up from his position.

“Not yet,” he huffed, helmet settling against your shoulder again. “Just wanna stay here a minute.”

Please stay, you thought to yourself.

#mando x f!reader #din djarin x reader #mando x reader #the mandalorian #mando #din djarin #smut #idk please like it

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gretavanlace · 2 years ago

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Jake kiszka x reader

18+ only! Minors do not interact!

Warnings: graphic sexual content, very light impact play, explicit language, overstimulation, etc.

Just a little something quick I whipped up because my life is now an absolute dumpster fire thanks to Jake and his eyeliner. Fairly lazy editing, my apologies in advance ❤️

Sexy? Yes, you had expected that. A feral crowd calling forth that smirk of his that proves he knows exactly what he’s doing. The wicked gleam in his eye that says ‘they want me and I love it’, you had expected that too.

What you didn’t expect, was the wild, white-hot flame that would be stoked way down deep inside you. The moment he appeared, a rock and roll angel…wings hidden beneath his jacket, you wanted to fall to your knees with a warm, wet, open mouth offering a home for his cock.

Eye liner. A sweep of charcoal along his lash line, expertly applied, rendering his gaze even more beautiful than usual. No man has any business being that pretty. Gorgeous, really. Feminine in the most delicious way. In the way that serves as a testament to the unwavering confidence and security in his own skin he possesses.

You had wanted him then, badly. Wanted to climb into his lap and kiss his lovely face, to suck on his bubble gum pink tongue, to rock your hips against him until he was so hard neither of you could bear it any longer.

Yes, you’d been down astronomically bad then, but now? Watching him destroy his guitar, fingers flying along the frets so rapidly they’re no more than a blur. Sweat glistening and rolling down his chest like diamonds as he flirts with the audience, stealing heart after heart, liner now smudged and messy from exertion…now your need is nearly painful.

If he were to curl a finger at you, you’d make your way over from side-stage and bow to his every whim…audience be damned.

You have to have him, and you don’t want him on the bus where you’re both forced to be gentle and quiet lest the others hear (although you’re fairly certain they still do from time to time). No, you want to fuck, with him behind you, looking like a whore of a pirate who stepped foot on dry land and somehow ended up here.

Never before have you ducked out before the end of their set, but there’s a first time for everything. If he swaggers off stage like usual - an arm will be wrapped around your waist in greeting as he bullshits with his brothers about the show…what went wrong, what went right, what might go wrong and right next time, it will carry on and on.

Normally you don’t mind. In fact, you enjoy it. But if you’re forced to stand around aching and fiending for the fix only he can bestow, you very well might begin tearing into him right in front of the others.

If he leaves the stage and his gaze doesn’t land on you immediately, he’ll forgo the post show back and forth in favor of hunting you down.

And it is to that end, that you find yourself waiting, not so patiently, in his dressing room.

It feels like an eternity, and exasperation is beginning to creep in when the door swings open.

“Where’d you go, baby?” He smiles through heavy pants of breath. “Were we that awful tonight?”

“Lock the door.”

“Why?” He looks confused.

Your patience is wearing incredibly thin. You want him just like this - covered in sweat, post show adrenaline coursing through his veins like the sweetest drug, screams of adoration still rattling about in his head “Just lock the fucking door, Jake.”

He reaches back and pushes the tiny button on the handle, eyes on you all the while, a quiet groan of lust escaping him when you lean over the vanity and hike your dress up over your hips. Panties are next to go, shoved down mid-thigh, blush pink lace as soaked and warm as your cunt.

“Look at you, my poor, pretty little thing. Does baby need some attention?” His voice is slightly hoarse. Always a tell as to how turned on he is. The man has no poker face when it comes to being buried inside you.

His reflection grows nearer in the mirror and your desire kicks into overdrive, shaking through your system until you’re practically vibrating with it.

“Fuck me.” It ribbons off your tongue with a tremble clutching at your throat. Twisting and squeezing in perfect time with the thunderous pounding of your heart.

His hands wrap around the curve of your waist, Chelsea boot kicking your legs further apart.

Your eyes burn into one another’s for a moment, the air in the room so thick with sexual tension that if you closed your eyes you might believe you were wandering through early morning fog.

He jerks your hips back against him, just to torture you with the heat of his hard cock, and that sets in motion what seems like a thousand movements.

Leaning forward, he sinks his teeth into your bare shoulder until you whine out in blissful pain, and then there is his finger, sneaking under the strap of your bra resting beside the mark of his teeth.

“Let me see them.” He snaps the elastic and then slides his hand between your thighs, growling low in his chest when he finds you dripping and clenching around nothing.

You chase his fingers as he teases them around, giving you just enough to pull whimper after needy whimper out of you.

“I said let me see them.” He sounds harsh and demanding, but you can see love behind the darkness in his eyes.

Yanking down on the neck of your dress, you take the cups of your bra along for the ride, leaving you nothing more than a half-dressed disheveled whore for him.

And that’s fine by you. You’d rather be a whore for him than a lady for someone else.

His tongue sweeps over his bottom lip as, at last, he finally slips two fingers inside you. “Look how fucking beautiful you are, baby. Play with them for me, and make it hurt. I know you like it.”

He feels you clench viciously around his touch the moment you take hold of your taught nipples, wrenching and tugging at them.

“You’re sucking me right in,” his breath is catching and hitching in his lungs. “I fucking love your cunt. So tight and hot. Velvet soft. Pink and greedy. What’s got her so worked up? Tell me.”

You try your hardest to collect your thoughts, but with his fingers circling into the spot only he has ever found, it’s nearly impossible.

In the end, it doesn’t matter, he figures it out for himself when you glance up and catch sight of the smoky eye his ruined liner has created…your eyes roll back in your head and he knows.

“There it is.” He sounds like sex drenched detective who has just cracked a case. “You like that? You like it when I look pretty for my sweet little whore of a fuck toy?”

“Yes…” the word drags out of you as you push back to meet his hand frantically. “Fuck me, Jake. Please, I need it. I need it so fucking bad.”

The teeth of his zipper hum open and suddenly you’re stuffed full in one smooth roll of his hips.

“Yeah,” a cocky smirk ghosts over his lips. “You’re soaked, baby. You love it, don’t you? You wanna paint my lips cherry red so I can kiss it all over this gorgeous pussy?”

You smack your palm harshly against the polished wood you’re bent over, biting down on your lip feverishly in an effort to keep quiet.

He reaches around and tugs it free…he wants every sound. Every moan and sigh, every call of his name. “Tell me I’m pretty.”

A flash of heat explodes in your chest, spider cracking all the way down to your toes.

Hand slipping downward, he wraps his grip around your neck, squeezing as if he’s trying to coax praise off your tongue with his touch. “Say it.”

“You’re so pretty, Jake…” each word is followed by a tiny gasp for air as he fucks into you harder and faster “A fucking princess with a cock. You’re the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.

He groans out an animalistic noise that springs goosebumps to life on your skin. His head falls back and you’re reminded of stage Jake, practically fucking his guitar, losing himself in the haunting notes his talented fingers call forth.

Once again, he finds your eyes in the mirror. “Come on, baby, cum for me. I’m so fucking close.” A shiver ripples through him as his cock jerks wildly deep inside you.

“Go ahead, Jakey…” you can’t tear your eyes away from him. “Give it to me.”

He shakes his head, sending his layers whipping around. “You first. I need to feel it. Fuck…be a good girl and do as you’re told…cum on my cock.”

A wail of a whine tumbles out of you, as you tighten around him like a silken fist.

“It's pretty, too.”

You’ve hardly made a sound, but he catches it.

“Is it?” The question drifts out with a hint of a slur - he’s completely drunk on you. “A pretty cock for a beautiful cunt.” He cracks a sharp smack against the outside of your thigh. “Now give it the fuck up, baby girl. I want it.”

Your muscles jerk and tense up tight as a drum listening to his teeth click together with a clenched jaw as he fights his own need. “C’mon sweetheart, please…”

The effort was valiant, but he loses the battle, and with a hushed call of your name, the sinful heat of his release warms you from the inside out and you wish you could keep it there forever. A bit of him secreted away safe and sound within you.

“Don’t stop..” you beg as his cursing cries morph into tiny whines of overstimulation. “Don’t fucking stop.”

He can’t deny you anything, so he carries on, fighting through it in order to get you there while you babble and moan incoherently, words peppered through. Harder. Right there. Keep going. Obscenities you’d be ashamed for anyone else to hear.

With the most endearing fucked out noise you’ve ever heard him utter, he sends you sailing over the edge, nails raking into the vanity, body shaking and squirming so intensely he is forced to wrap an arm around your waist to hold you somewhat still around his cock as it throbs and aches for mercy.

His forehead falls against your shoulder, tired, spent, satiated in the way he’s only ever felt with you.

Right here, you have all you’ll ever need…but soon, the spell is broken when you register the lowered hum of noise on the other side of the door. The place is slowly clearing out, the others are likely already on the bus wondering what the hell has become of you two.

There’s no time to shower, but you do your best at looking at least halfway presentable, futile as it is. They’ll see through you both right away, but it isn’t the first time your indiscretions have provided them with valuable material for their entertainment, and it certainly won’t be the last.

Taglist: @gretasintrees @greta-van-chaos @celestialfauna @s0livagant @groggyvanfleet @kiszkathecook @brokenbellz @llightmyllovee @doodle417 @seventieswhore @jake-kiszkas-smirk @paleshadow-ofadragon @weightofdreams-gvf @alisonwonderland29 @gretavanfleas @gretavangroove @sparrowofthedawn @xserenax-13 @tbagggvf @obetrolncocktails @tripthelightjaketastic @jakeslovehandles @poofyloofy @70sgroupielovr @heatmyfleet @age-of-nyahh @sammiboo162 @spicedandicedtea @jakekiszkasleftnutsack @saoirsemaeve @mywickeddivinity @dvrkblooms @paintmyhouse @tripthelightfandomtastic @tripthelight-fanfic @mckenna4 @sarakay-gvf @theweightofjake @joshsmama @sammysvanfeet @rhythm-of-space @highladyofasgard @jordierama @calumspretty

#greta van fleet #greta van fleet fic #greta van fleet smut #greta van smut #greta van fleet fan fiction #fanfic #greta van fic #gvf fic #jake gvf #jake kiszka smut #jake kiszka imagine #gvf smut #jake kiszka #gvf x reader #gvf fanfiction #gvf #gvf jake

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tossawary · 1 month ago

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(SPOILERS for "Transformers: One!) I'm about to go see the movie again, so I may come back with better details later, but I saw a negative take that I thought was... understandable but also ungenerous towards the film... and I want to get some thoughts out about it now.

Sentinel is an unreliable narrator!!! It would be kind of flat story-wise if Sentinel had honestly betrayed the Primes just because he was "bored of all their talking" and just wanted all of their power for himself. Selfishness and ego aren't spectacularly interesting motivations, sure. I enjoyed him personally, but I also really don't think that anyone is obligated to find Sentinel interesting or fun as a villain; if you didn't enjoy him, that's fair.

But Sentinel is a showman!!! These are the claims that Sentinel makes to his ENEMIES, including Zeta Prime and Alpha Trion and the High Guard. Of course he's going to try and save face in front of them? And in front of his own subordinates? He's acting like he's disaffected by all of his enemies, like the return of a Prime doesn't scare him at all, like the loss of the Matrix doesn't matter to him, like the threat of the Quintessons is nothing to him... Like these people can't hurt him, no matter what they say or do, because he doesn't care about them.

And maybe Sentinel is that careless! Maybe he genuinely believes his own lies at this point! It's been a long time, his ego is swollen, the power has gone to his head, maybe he's convinced himself that the Primes just bored him, or maybe he's truly always been an apathetic twit. But either way, why in the world would Sentinel admit to vulnerabilities in any of his villain speeches to his enemies?

During Sentinel's encounter with the Quintessons, you can see that he's TERRIFIED of them. (For good reason! They're scary here!) Maybe he betrayed the Primes partially out of fear for his own survival; because he thought that brokering a deal of submission was the only way out of the war for himself. But this golden Prime, sole ruler of Cybertron, after years upon years of smiling tyranny, is probably not going to admit to his old foe, his living mistake, Alpha Trion, that he was and still is scared out of his damn mind.

(EDIT: One of the things that Sentinel says to Alpha Trion is that he had to spend half of his time watching the Primes "lose a war" and the other half of his time listening to them go on about "honor". I think the first part of that sentence demands some attention. Sentinel potentially genuinely thought that the Primes were going to lose the war! Or he's just insulting Alpha Trion because he's an asshole and he can, but it's possible that part of his motivation is that he lost hope and saw surrender as the only avenue of escape.)

Sentinel stole Megatronus's transformation cog! He set himself up as a false Prime! There's a lot to be inferred there about envy and jealousy and a desire for glory and worship. We don't know the exact societal setup under the original Primes, but it was also wartime, so maybe Sentinel's life as a not-Prime during a grueling war sucked somehow and his resentment eventually boiled over. Maybe his life was actually pretty good and he just snapped because he wanted everything. But either way, this smug villain high on his victory, boasting to his prisoners, is not going to suddenly admit to seething feelings of inferiority and/or confess the details of his wartime suffering to STARSCREAM.

It's possible that Sentinel genuinely thought that he was meant to be a Prime! Maybe he thought that the Matrix needed someone new to wield it to be effective! Maybe Sentinel used to be religious and thought that the war was going badly because the wrong person had the Matrix and thus Primus was unhappy with them all. But then the Matrix straight-up dissolved in his hands and his dreams and faith all came crashing down! (I'm aware that there's no proof of this! My point is...) But someone as proud as Sentinel is not going to talk about the excruciating dismay of not being considered worthy to the likes of D-16! Sentinel is too busy being cruel!

Like, I do understand personally not enjoying Sentinel as a villain! That's fine! I liked him, but I will easily agree that there are tweaks that could have been made to give him greater depth, to show greater depth, as could have been done with all of the characters here. I would argue that his relative simplicity allowed for more room for the arcs of Optimus Prime and Megatron, but he could have definitely been more interesting. For sure! They could have given him some different scenes where he might actually voice more vulnerabilities.

But it bugged me from a general characterization standpoint that this lying liar who lies might be taken entirely at face value regarding his motivations. Especially when talking to his enemies. Like, come on.

#tossawary transformers #tf one #sentinel prime #spoilers #long post

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em-harlsnow · 4 months ago

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the scene where ian leaves mickey to cross the border alone will always hurt so fucking badly.

because mickey has no one. he’s all alone, he ditched damon a long time ago and any family he had is either long gone or not people he would want to associate with. all he has is ian, and ian doesn’t want to follow him.

i think ian left him for a million different reasons. ian must have known on some level that the life mickey would lead in mexico would be far from a legal one - aside from the escaped convict part. ian has only ever known mickey to be a drug dealer, or a pimp, or a scammer. so he assumes mickey will be doing the same thing in mexico, which he does (maybe it would be different if ian had gone with, but who knows) as he joins a cartel.

ian can’t do that illegal life anymore, it’s not enough for him. he needs stability, he needs a purpose and he had only JUST found it in the EMT work. he had his family, who he would miss so much and maybe end up resenting mickey for losing them.

ian can’t put his disorder on mickey alone, it would be too much. ian doesn’t know how he’ll get meds in mexico, doesn’t know if they’ll be the exact same and he can’t do it to mickey and hurt him again, in a foreign country without his family to support him.

but ian wants mickey to know he loves him, but he just CANT. and mickey knows that, knows he can’t, gets that. i think mickey u derstood from the beginning that ian wouldn’t go. i dont think mickey expected ian to come at all, but when he did mickey believed him, which is the saddest part, because he was let down.

i don’t know if ian ever intended to cross the border. no idea. he could have expected to cross and realised at the last moment he couldn’t, or knew it all along.

i don’t think mickey believes ian loves him as much as he does. i think mickey thinks ian loves him like ian loves everyone, because ian is a loving person. ian does love him, though, but he can’t go with him.

it sucks, but it’s true.

and it clearly hurt ian badly. the deleted scene of ian and lip shows that, and the acting my cameron in that scene is AMAZING. you can see every thought that crosses his face.

anyway, this is my rant about shameless season 7 episode 11 because i didn’t have a chance to talk about it a few days ago.

#shameless #gallavich #mickey milkovich #ian gallagher #ian x mickey #shameless opinions #shameless 7x11 #7x11 #i love them and they love each other

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idesofrevolution · 2 years ago

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Never Enough

I wanted so badly to be like him. I’d stare at him from afar every day I commuted home from work. He was tall, he was stacked, he was dark, he was fuckin perfect. Each time I saw those arms, twice the size of my head, I had to stifle til the little moan I knew would escape my lips. I didn’t know his name, I didn’t know anything about him except he must have lived nearby, since he was jogging nearly every day down the main strip. No shirt, beadlets of sweat glistening on that ebony skin, trailing down a set of washboard abs into a soaked pair of black shorts.

He was everything I knew I could never be. Surely a couple roid rages helped him along the way, but there’s something to be said about genetics. He had the genes I wouldn’t ever have. So I would sit there like creepy voyeurist every day and drool over this sweaty lug of a man I’d never met but so heavily admired.

I couldn’t tell you what the catalyst was for my google search that day. Maybe it was the fact I was bored out of my mind at work, or maybe that angst just kept compiling subconsciously until I finally did something about it. Either way, I found myself seeing what could be done about the way I looked, about who I was. A few pages down the line, well past 20 or so, I saw one result which piqued my curiosity.

“MelaSculpt” was the product. The little snippet of description on the search page described a fitness supplement for black men. I didn’t really think as I clicked the page that I would find anything of use to myself. After all, a black man I am not- but male is male right? And health supplements aren’t discriminative to my knowledge. The page for some company named VitaCorp opened quickly, and the page did take me back a bit. A studly mocha skinned man smirked back at me, flexing his vascular biceps while shoving a small orange pill into the foreground.

“MelaSculpt is the newest addition to VitaCorp’s growing list of nutritional supplements, which is aimed at improving the wellness and physique of men of color. Specially balanced for peak performance and quick results, this supplement will help YOU get the body of your dreams.” I scrolled past the ingredients list and disclaimers, much more interested in seeing the before and after photos of previous clients. The results were staggering. One man was easily 300 pounds overweight in his before picture, and after one treatment he was cut, lean, and healthy. Another was the opposite: gangly and paper thin before, ripped and bulked after. I kept swiping the pictures, before realizing the gallery was almost 200 photos. Before I could stop myself I had already purchased the bottle.

The rest of the day went by as normal, the draining, soul sucking grind of a day working had made me forget entirely that I had bought the supplements. So imagine my surprise upon arriving home when I saw a nondescript black package in my mailbox with a bright orange VitaCorp logo on it. It wasn’t possible! I looked, the company was out of Australia, I wasn’t even close. Unless they had a fulfillment center here in town, this couldn’t be it. Though, sure enough, as I ripped the plastic open, the matte black bottle rolled out into the palm of my hand.

I booked it inside, immediately rushing to my bathroom to examine the contents further. The futuristic font glistened the MelaSculpt name, teasing me as I ripped the plastic ring off the cap and twisted it open. The inside was full of cotton, and after pulling out what seemed like an inordinate amount of it, I saw two large orange pills in the bottom of the bottle. For a moment I was beyond pissed. What kind of rip off scheme did I buy into this time? I grabbed the package, shaking it upside down, hoping for a set of written instructions or a receipt. Luckily, a small card labeled “USER GUIDE” toppled onto the cold tile floor. I picked it up and began to read.

“Thank you for your purchase! We sincerely hope your experience with MelaSculpt enhances your life in every way you might hope. To begin your journey, take a test amount of a 1/4 pill to ascertain tolerance. Do not exceed 2 pills per person in totality.

WARNING: MelaSculpt is designed for use in men of color only. Side effects may include…”

I tossed the card aside, eager to get started. The orange pill glistened in my palm, presegmented into four doses. I broke off the first portion and swallowed it, washing it down with water from the tap. I stood a front the mirror, preparing myself to say goodbye to this corporeal prison and hello to a hunky Adonis like the jogger. It didn’t take long.

It had been merely second before I doubled over. I could hear the bubbling and groaning of my stomach, feeling it gurgle and pulsate. Immediately, I was convinced I was poisoned. Some random website I had found on Google supplied me Arsenic or Ricin… and I was dumb enough to take it. The first burp escaped my mouth, and I could feel instant relief. I stumbled into the bedroom, leaning on the dresser before actually looking down at my midriff. Beneath my shirt, which once was ill fitting and awkward, my stomach seemed to strain against the fabric. I ripped the shirt from my torso, buttons flying off it.

Beneath that cheap polyester were six little bumps vaguely protruding from my former gut. Another belch, and my swollen love handles seemed to collapse in on themselves. I was shocked, no, thrilled to see my waistline shift and bulk as two cumgutters started to balloon out. That was all fine and good, until my head began to spin. Yet another belch. I grasped onto the dresser, trying desperately to balance myself. But just as the world began to warp and blur, I thought I saw the slightest pinpricks of dark skin begin to cascade down my fingertips before it all went black.

I woke up on the ground. My head throbbed with a migraine straight from hell, rubbing my pulsating temples. Light streamed through the blinds, it was the next day for certain. As my throbbing eyes finally began to adjust, the world around me became clearer. Immediately, I saw them. Toes. My toes. BLACK toes. I wriggled my big toe, just to make sure they were in fact mine, before looking down at my hands. They were a dark ebony, tattoos sprinkled on my wrists and up my thick forearms. I scrambled to my feet and looked in the mirror.

What met my gaze were two meaty pecs, cobblestone abs, arms the size of a cantaloupe… a snaking bulge creeping further and further down my shorts. I hadn’t even looked at my face, I was too scared to look. No, scared wasn’t the right word, it was the mounting anticipation of just who I now was. I looked up, and my breath was taken away. My hair was a wild jumble of black curly locks radiating out into an afro. My chiseled jawline had a light stubble, the only two places on my entire body where I had hair. Every single inch of this sculpted, godlike body was smooth, chiseled, and powerful.

Taking a breath, the light scent of sweat emanated from my pits and feet. Just one whiff gave me a head rush as if I’d taken a hit of poppers. I panicked in the moment, refusing to believe this was who I now was. I pulled and prodded my face as if I were wearing a mask, but alas, this was my face. This was real. And a devilish smirk crept onto my face.

————

That was seven months ago. Truthfully, I’d adjusted pretty naturally into being Jabari. After a day or two of no showing at work, when the boss called the apartment I just explained I was the new tenant. I have no idea what happened to the guy before me. I was Jabari Jefferson, I’d just moved to town from Baltimore and was looking for a gig in personal training. The landlord just kinda accepted I was the new tenant, as long as the rent was paid she didn’t really care.

I started to get more comfortable going out in my new body, appreciating the winks and stares of those who passed. That kind of admiration changes a guy, you start to kind of believe it. I found my own new style, I found a gym to work at down the street from the house. I hit up the bars and happily took home any sexy adult I could find. They couldn’t get enough of that subtle, salty funk which seemed to linger around me; that testosterone laden musk which, admittedly got me and my 9 inch cock off after nearly every session on the basketball court. I made a name for myself around the neighborhood for being “that guy.” The one everyone wanted to be, the guy I always dreamed I’d become. That however, leads us to todays events.

The sun was beaming down on me, as I contently shot some hoops before I hit up my date at a bar down the street. The energy I felt every single day. It was so strong and powerful. That virility, that libido, that strength… it was addictive. I plopped down onto the bench, prying my size 13 LeBron 19’s from my damp, socked foot. Taking a not so guilty whiff of that sharp, satisfying scent of a damn good game, just as I did after every hoop sesh. I tossed the sneakers into the bag and pulled out my slides, only for something to roll right out of the bag as I did.

I looked down at my wet feet on the pavement to see the black bottle of MelaSculpt had fallen out of my bag. Truthfully, I’d forgotten where I put it months ago: out of sight, out of mind. But as I looked down at it, that little nagging voice in the back of my head began to pick at me. Those feelings I felt that day, that euphoric rush. The power of my flexing muscles, the taste of my sweat, the touch of my skin… it all came back to me at once.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. That sensation, that lust for power and strength more than ever before is as enticing as it sounds even now. I opened my eyes, and delicately grabbed the bottle. The pill and 3/4 rattled around the bottom of the black container, teasing me even further. I looked down at my glistening muscles, slick with sweat, and imagined just how much more I wanted. It wasn’t enough to be sexy and strong, I had to be the strongest. I had to be the one.

In that moment of irrevocable weakness, I twisted the cap off and swallowed the remainder of the pill I’d used the first time. I didn’t remember the instructions, I didn’t remember the warnings, I remembered that feeling. It was the only thing in my mind as a triple dose made its way down my throat. Just as the first time, I doubled over on the bench, my stomach rumbling audibly to even passersby. I groaned and let out a cacophonous belch, one that even surprised myself. My chest ballooned out almost comically as a cartoon. Veins bulged prominently out of my thinning skin as my necklace burst from the base of my throat, too fragile for the force of my widening neck.

I scampered and stumbled blindly into the locker room, fortunately empty at the time. I let out another cavernous burp, which echoed throughout the room. My thighs bubbled outward in grotesque disproportion to the rest of my musculature. I crawled on the floor toward a shower stall, making it in before just as the time before the world began to spin. I got one final glimpse of my biceps contort and spasm before it all went dark.

I awoke in that shower stall in agony. Every muscle felt stiff and stone like in the cramped stall. I couldn’t even fit my entire body in the stall, my feet stuck out from beneath the door. The smell, it was strong. I enjoyed that savory, delectable scent of masculine musk before, but this was different. The only word I could describe it with is pungent. Like high quality Gorgonzola, and it was pouring out of every crevice of my body. I pushed the stall door open, which nearly came off from the force of my strength.

Getting to my feet, I crept slowly toward the sink, feeling every contraction of every muscle, thinly veiled behind my hairless skin. I got to the mirror. I had tripled in size. Muscles bulged from every direction, built far past the natural threshold I even knew existed. My dreads had all but fallen off, leaving a buzzed hair which exposed veins protruding from even my own scalp. I could feel my heart pumping every single beat, and the blood flowing across my entire body. The power was incomprehensible, it was incredible. It was… far too much for me. I scrambled back to my bag, tossing my favorite sneakers across the room, never to fit my rank size 17 feet ever again.

The bottle seemed tiny in my massive hand, I strained to see the instructions printed on the card I’d left inside. The only thing I could make out was the final words at the bottom of the paper: “Effects permanent. Use with caution.” My heart skipped a beat, I looked at myself in the mirror, a roid-inflated version of the Jabari I had built, nurtured, valued, loved… this wasn’t me. It felt wrong. I looked down at my phone desperately trying to look up the VitaCorp webpage to no avail. I screamed and punched the wall, my fist going straight through the tile and plaster.

My breathing labored, heavy, and hard, I looked down at the bottle again, chucking it into the bin. I looked at myself in the mirror, accepting there in that moment that Jabari was gone. This walking muscle was who I now was. I now had to concoct an entirely new persona yet again. But the only thing I could think of, was how much I wanted what I had lost.

#male transformation #body transformation #original #transformation #jockification #musk #musky #bodybuilder #racial change #racial transformation #basketball #VitaCorp #muscle inflation

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bluepluto03 · 10 months ago

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Branch Sacrifices himself for Floyd AU

Summary: in which Branch sees Floyd getting the life sucked out of him and gets freaked enough to make a really bad decision

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“I have a proposition for you. A trade.”

“Branch no!” Floyd yells

“Trade for what?”

“For me. You free Floyd, and you can use me instead.”

“Branch, leave, please.” Floyd begs.

Branch ignores him resolutely

Velvet seems to be considering. “Why should I trade?”

“Um… I won't die as fast?” Branch offers, caught off guard. He didn’t expect he’d need to convince her to kidnap him.

(Full mini/bullet fic under the cut)

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Note: this is a cross between a actual fic and a bullet fic bc I have Other Projects I’m supposed to be working on and I’m trying to limit myself from going all out on trolls, but if people like this maybe I’ll try to clean it up some more and put it on ao3

Branch gets the bait letter sometime before the wedding. He panics badly, barely stops to leave a note for Poppy before running off to mt rageous.

JD has already spoken with Floyd and left to collect everyone

At first their Reunion is pretty similar to cannon with a bit more confusion and worry

Branch starts trying to get the cover off the vents so he can take Floyd with him- he doesn’t want to leave him there. But It’s a huge metal grate over a vent and he’s one tiny troll there’s only so much he can do

Floyd hears Velvet and Veneer approaching and tells Branch to run. Branch argues against him, keeps trying to open the stupid grate, ignoring Floyd’s pleas for him to run

In the hallway the voices of Velvet and Veneer go quiet but the trolls are too frantic to notice

Floyd points out Branch can’t help him if they’re both caught, and Branch reluctantly agrees to hide

Velvet, who’s been listening at the door, bursts in. She lunges at Branch but he escapes into the vents where she can’t reach him

Vaneer whines they’ll never be able to find him now

Velvet is like hmm… picks up Floyd’s crystal, Floyd seems scared, looking back up at her

“Such a shame. Im not sure this one will last until the next one shows up.” She says loudly

Her voice rattles around the vents and shakes the ground Branch is trying to stand on and he he grits his teeth against it

“Oh im sure another one will show up soon enough, but we have half a dozen shows in the next few days. This one’s getting pretty weak.” she shakes Floyd. “With two, well theres one for each of us! Right veneer?”

“R-right?”

“Im sure two would be able to make it much longer…”

Branch knows what she’s doing. He knows she’s just trying to bait him out. The stupidest thing in the world he could do would be to go down there right now.

But all he can see is how pale floyd is getting, and the terrifying translucence of the tips of his fingers, and-

And. if he goes down there he’ll be useless to save floyd.

He’ll have to just figure out some other way to get floyd out

“We’ll have to keep him with us now, i guess, since theres some little critters running around. We don’t want them bothering our little guest”

Anxiety starts to choke Branch and he tries to push it down. Okay, that complicates things, but it’s fine. It’ll be fine. He’ll still manage to save Floyd. Before it’s too late

He can’t pull himself away from the edge of the vent. He realizes he’s been edging closer and closer on his stomach, out of the shadows, desperate just to see Floyd for a moment longer

Velvet looks around. She sees a shadow in the vent and grins to herself

“Well we’ve gotta get going to our next show. Time for a quick spritz”

She sprays herself

Floyd lifts up from the force of it, eyes rolling back in pain. His body shudders once with the wave, then goes boneless as he drops to the bottom of the bottle

“NO-“ the scream rips through Branch’s throat before he can catch it. Velvet looks at the vent with a predatory look in her eye. Floyd looks dazed and terrified on Branch’s behalf

Velvet takes one predatory step forward and instinctively Branch yells “DON’T MOVE”

Velvet stops, seemingly more out of surprise than anything else. She laghs. “Why should i troll? What’re you gonna do? Sing at me?”

“I’ll disappear into the vents” Branch says with much more confidence than he feels. “By the time you get to me, i can be deep enough that you won’t be able to grab me.”

Velvet frowns, eyes scanning the distance between them, but she dosn’t move forward

“Why not just run off then?” Veneer asks, though it sounds more genuinely confused, lacking his sister’s mocking undertone

Floyd is looking at him with a furrowed brow, confusion evident on his face as he struggles to figure out what branch is doing, even as he leans limply against the side of the bottle

“I have a proposition for you. A trade.”

“Branch, no!” Floyd yells as he figures it out

“Trade for what?”

“For me. You free Floyd, and you can use me instead.”

“Branch, leave, please.” Floyd begs.

Branch ignores him, resolutely pushing down the fear in his chest

Velvet seems to be considering. “Why should I trade?”

“Um… I won't die as fast?” Branch offers, caught off guard. He didn’t expect he’d need to convince her to kidnap him.

“Maybe, but pinkie here is pretty powerful. How do I know you’ll be anywhere near as strong?”

Branch hesitates then forces himself move forward “I’m stronger.”

“No he’s not! He’s terrible!” Floyd insists

“Excuse me?” Branch shoots back, indigent and caught off guard

But Floyd’s not looking at him hes talking to velvet. “He’s awful. If you use him you’ll sound like-” he grasps for how to convince them ”like a broken chalkboard, or nails in a clock, or- or a crying bird!”

“You’re mixing metaphors, babe” Veneer tells him

“Or something! It’ll be bad, okay??” floyd insists desperately

branch feels irrationally a bit hurt because he knows floyd is only saying that to protect him. He takes a deep breath, pushing down all the fear and hurt

“No it won’t. I have the voice of an angel.

Velvet raises an eyebrow. “Prove it.”

He sings a few bars

“Deal.” Velvet agrees to the trade

Now there’s the problem of actually doing the trade

They tell him to come down, he says no you’ll take us both, gimme floyd and then ill come down, they accuse him of the same thing, they agree on branch standing on the edge of the vent and them putting floyd next to him as they pick him up

They do it and branch tries not to shake in fear

They let Branch help Floyd into the vent because he’s so weak, but both Velvet and Veneer are hovering so close and they’ve figured out how to shut some of the vents so even if he wanted to leave he couldn’t

As floyd is placed down he beggs branch “branch please don’t do this, please.”

Branch can’t look at him. He wishes he had something, anything to say

Floyd’s hair wraps around his wrist weakly, it’s all Floyd can manage. Branch just gently takes it off and keeps going

As he steps into velvets hand he tries his best for a comforting smile. “I’ll be back. I promise.”

This time, when one of them walks away, they both know he’s lying

Note: that’s what I have so far! Cue very sick Floyd watching his brother suffer and desperately trying to save him while so weak.

Maybe I’ll continue if ppl like this maybe I’ll finish editing this into something a bit cleaner but we’ll see! Honestly depends if people are interested bc I have other stuff I really should be working on but the trolls hyperfixation hit me with a frying pan and dragged me into the fandom in a burlap sack.

#trolls #trolls band together #branch trolls #velvet and veneer #trolls floyd

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