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thesparkling-diamond27 · 2 months ago

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Dancing Through Life

Fiyero Tigelaar x Reader

Summary: Y/n Upperland of the Upper Uplands, cousin to Galinda Upand, doesn’t have a problem with Fiyero Tigelaar, but that doesnt’t mean that she wants him around. However, after one simple walk with the Winkie Prince, Y/n discovers that he’s not so bad after all.

A/n: hi hi! I’m back with a Fiyero one shot, but that doesn’t mean that I’ve forgotten about the second Bridgerton and I. I’ve written two chapters so far over thanksgiving break and I might try to squeeze in one more chapter or at least half of one before I go back to school. I don’t really have enough time to write when I am at school, so the next time I’ll probably get back to writing during Christmas break which is in a couple weeks. Then I’ll finish the Bridgerton and I and I’m thinking about waiting to finish the Bridgerton and I completely before posting any more chapters, so the ff will probably be finished in December. I wrote this one shot because Wicked has been on my mind 24/7 and I can write whatever comes to mind, but for the Bridgerton and I have to sit down and rewatch Bridgerton episodes so that I can make sure I get all the words exactly right. I hope you guys continue to be patient as I try to finish it :).

I have recently seen the movie Wicked and plan to see 10 million more times because it is SO GOOD. Wicked is basically my whole personality at this point. I was already obsessed with Fiyero, but Jonathan Bailey as Fiyero made my obsession worse (but in a good way :)). And with this obsession comes a Jonathan Bailey Fiyero Tigelaar one shot. I hope you enjoy!! I also have a plan to write another one so stay tuned for that!

It was a beautiful day today, so after class I decided to read at my favorite spot: the bench under the oak tree. I loved it here because it was a peaceful place where I never got disturbed. Or so I thought.

I realized he was near when I heard the sound of boots stepping onto grass. It was only when his shadow blocked the words on the page that I finally looked up.

Fiyero looked down on me with curious eyes, but there was still a charming smile plastered on his face. I tried to hide how his smile affected me, but he must have noticed the change in my demeanor because his smile turned into a smirk.

I thought after my cousin Galinda introduced him to my brother and I earlier today would be the last time I saw him for the day. It appears the Winkie prince had other plans.

“Well what is Miss Upland doing under the oak tree?” He asked.

“Reading.” I held up my book for effect before I continued back to where I left off.

I saw him take a seat beside me on the bench in the corner of my eye.

“It’s Friday.” He continued.

I rolled my eyes. “I know. I can read calendars.” Fiyero chuckled at my blunt and snippy responses. He could clearly tell that I was annoyed by his presence, but he continued to talk anyway.

“It’s Friday and you are here reading under an oak tree. You should be out there having fun.” He used his hands to gesture to all the other students hanging out at the courtyard.

“This is fun to me.”

“School work is fun?”

“Well for your information this book is not for school it’s for me.”

“Well I believe you are filling your head with too many things. You’re thinking too much.”

I rolled my eyes.

“Well that’s not surprising coming from a prince like you.”

“A prince like me?” Fiyero gave a feigned pained expression. “I’m hurt that you would think that way about me.”

“Well I believe that you present yourself as self-absorbed and deeply shallow, but I don’t think you are. I think you use that as a front to hide the fact that you actually care and have thoughts.”

“Excuse me there’s no pretense here. I happen to be genuinely self-absorbed and deeply shallow.”

“Okay.” I said not believing him. I shut my book and stood from the bench. I finished the book I was reading and decided to go search for another one to read.

“Well I guess it was nice talking to you.”

I began to walk back to my room, but he blocked my path.

“Where are you going?”

“Back to my room to find another book.”

“Oh come on. Drop the book for once and have some fun.”

“No.”

I pushed past him and walked away without looking back. I was hoping he would leave me alone after that, but luck was not on my side today.

“Since you’re going back to your room, maybe I can save you the trouble of carrying your book all the way back.”

He grabbed the book from my hand before I could say anything.

“Hey give that back!”

I tried to grab the book back, but he raised the book above my head, so that I couldn’t reach and jumping up was no use. Fiyero was laughing at me struggling, so I sighed in defeat.

“Fine. You can help me carry my singular book up to my room.”

Fiyero was happy with my response because he was smiling from ear to ear. We were now standing nose to nose and I could feel his breath fan across my face. If I looked down I would have perfect access to his lips. Wait what was I thinking? I quickly backed away from him before I did anything stupid. Fiyero smiled down at me and said, “See now that wasn’t so hard now was it? Lead the way princess.”

I would he lying if I said I didn’t get affected by his words. Butterflies filled my stomach and I probably would have melted if I didn’t catch myself. What is wrong with me?

“Princess?”

“Yes princess. It suits you. Princess of the Upper Upperlands.” He said with a dramatic voice.

I was about to retaliate when a certain blondey came to mind.

“Shouldn’t you be calling Galinda princess?” I asked.

“Why would I do that?”

“Because you two are a thing.”

Fiyero chuckled. “I just met her this morning and besides I’m like this with everyone.”

My heart sunk at his words. So he was just treating me like everyone else? But why was I so upset about it? Just a few hours ago I wanted nothing to do with him and now I was disappointed that he’s not treating me differently.

“And if I called her princess then I wouldn’t be able to call you princess. Princess.” He said with a wink.

That definitely lifted my spirits. Sweet Oz! He was making feel a roller coaster of emotions. I could tell there will never be a dull moment with him.

I gave him a small smile but I looked down on the floor to hide it from him. I didn’t want him to notice that I started to warm up to him, but he saw the slight upturn of my lips.

“Well who knew that Miss Upland could smile. It’s a miracle!”

“Oh shut up!” I said, but you could hear the grin in my voice.

“Besides reading, what do you really do for fun?” I looked up at Fiyero and could tell that he truly wanted to know my genuine answer. So it seems that my premonition about him not being self-absorbed and deeply shallow was true.

“Umm…spending time with friends, swimming. Oh there’s a lake in the Upper Upperlands that my family and I go to every summer to cool off and it has such beautiful scenery. Not to mention the nearby ice cream shop…”

I stopped after I realized that I blabbered on. “I’m sorry I sort of got carried away.”

I looked up at Fiyero, but he didn’t seem bothered at all with my tangent. He actually seemed rather interested with what I had to say.

“No continue.” He said with an encouraging smile.

“No I’d rather not.”

I know he wanted to hear more, but he didn’t push me, which I was glad for. I was a little embarrassed with my little outburst.

“Well how about you discover a new way to have fun?” Fiyero said changing the subject.

“How?”

“Come with me to the Ozdust Ballroom tonight. The most swankified place in town.”

“Aren’t we not supposed to be off campus after dark?”

“Yes, but not being allowed to leave after dark makes it more fun!”

“I’ll pass.”

“Where’s your sense of adventure?”

“I left her at home.”

Fiyero paused before he burst into laughter.

“My joke wasn’t that funny.” But I couldn’t help but laugh along with Fiyero.

Fiyero paused again.“Your laugh.”

I took a few moments to recompose myself before asking, “What about my laugh?”

“It’s beautiful.”

I stopped walking and choked on air.

“What?” I asked, but Fiyero ignored me.

“Which way is your room?”

I realized that we have reached the dead end which separated into two hallways.

“This way.” I said as I begin to walk to the right. I walked a little faster to make this walk shorter. I have embarrassed myself way too many times in a such a short amount of time and I just wanted to smash my pillow in my face and scream. The rest of the way was silent until we reached my door.

“Well here we are. My humble abode.” I said. “Thank you for the uh…walk.”

“It was my pleasure. I hope to see you tonight at the Ozdust ballroom Miss Upland.

“Y/n.”

Fiyero smiled at my response.

“Y/n. I hope to see you tonight.”

I opened the door and was about to walk in, but I turned around instead.

“I know you like to put on the facade that you are this Winkie prince who doesn’t have a care in the world, but you’re also human. Yes you might be self-absorbed and shallow, but that’s not all of you and you have thoughts that should be shared. If you take away your crowd of admirers you’ll be left with the real you. If you want to continue with this role in front of everyone then that’s fine…,but you don’t have to be that way with me.”

Fiyero’s expression was unreadable, but I could have sworn I saw flickers of fear and appreciation.

“Y/n…I don’t know what to say.”

His hands fell to his sides and I realized that he still had my book. I slowly inched towards his hand and pulled the book from his grasp. But before I pulled away I took his hand in mine and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“You don’t have to say anything.” I said with a smile.

He nodded and with one last squeeze I pulled away and slowly closed the door shut.

—————————

I laid in my bed, for what seemed like hours, contemplating whether I should go to the Ozdust ballroom or not. I turned to my night stand to see that it’s only been a half hour. I groaned in frustration and covered my face with my pillow. Then I heard a knock at the door. I rose from my bed and opened it to see my brother Ezra.

“You. Me. Ozdust. Tonight.” He said as he entered my room.

“You know about that too?” I said as I shut the door.

“How do you know about it?” He asked curiously.

“I was invited.” I said as I plopped onto my bed. Ezra raised an eyebrow at my words and joined me.

“You were invited?! I wasn’t even invited! Who invited you?”

“So how do you know about it?” I asked avoiding what he asked me.

“I overheard some students talking about it, but don’t avoid the question. Who invited you?”

“Fiyero.”

Ezra’s eyebrows shot up to the ceiling.

“Fiyero Tigelaar of Winkie country? But you hate him.”

“I don’t hate him! Where did you get that impression.”

“When Galinda introduced us to him you didn’t seem to be too pleased with him.”

I thought back to the first impression I had of Fiyero when I first met him.

When he first stood in front of me I took a good look at him and he was exactly what I expected from a Winkie prince. He was dressed to the nines from head to toe. You could tell his blue jacket and pants were made to perfection and the gold accents were sewn with precision. His black polished boots were so shiny that you could even see your own reflection in them. And that was just his clothes.

Fiyero had an aura about him. It was as if he believed he always had to be the center of attention. Reminds me of someone that I know, but I know that Galinda has a heart. It was too soon to tell if he genuinely cares, but by the way he acted and the way the students nearby looked at him, I could already tell that his way of life to everyone else was fake.

Then he approached me later on in the day and I got to know him a little more. I soon realized that he wasn’t all so bad by himself. It was only when he was around everyone else where his walls come up and he acts out his facade.

“I guess I had a change of heart.” I finally answered.

“Uh huh. And how did Fiyero even get the chance to talk to you. The only way that can happen is if you two hung out alone.” Ezra said teasingly as he wiggled his eyebrows. I laughed at his antics.

“Fiyero might have interrupted my peaceful reading time earlier today and I got to know him a little more.”

“Oh?!”

“And before you say anything else there was nothing else to it. He offered to walk me back to my room and that’s when he invited me to the Ozdust ballroom. On our walk back I got to know him a little better and he’s not so bad by himself.”

“Hmm hmm.”

“Nothing else happened!”

“Hey I said nothing!” Ezra said as he lifted his hands to the sides of his face in defense. “But this means that you’re coming!”

“I didn’t say yes.”

“Why-“

“But I didn’t say no either. I’m still thinking about my answer.”

Ezra looped his arm with mine.

“Now I’m forcing you to come because I’m coming and I’m not going to have you sit pathetically in your room.”

“I’m not going to—“

“Ah uh. I won’t take no for an answer. And don’t say you don’t have anything to wear. Your wardrobe is almost as grand and big as Galinda’s.”

Ezra did have a point. I worried about my appearance and wardrobe just as much as Galinda, but I didn’t flaunt it as much as my cousin did.

“Come on.” Ezra grabbed my hands and pulled me up from my bed. He led me to one of my luggage’s that turned into a closet with the push of a button. Ezra pushed the button and pushed me towards my array of dresses.

“Well go on.” He prompted.

I stumbled upon the rack and begin to flip through my choices until I came across a dress that brought a smile to my face.

—————————

Ezra and I missed the boat that Galinda and Fiyero went on, so we arrived at the Ozdust ballroom a little later. I peeked over the corner and was in awe with what I saw.

The entrance of the ballroom had a ginormous staircase which led to the dance floor. At the end of the room was where a band of animals were playing the music. On the ceiling schools of fish were dancing in formation to the beat of the music. That’s when I realized that this ballroom was underwater. That was something I’ve never seen before.

Ezra and I began to walk down the staircase and I began to notice a lot of familiar faces from school.

“Do people come here often?” I asked Ezra. He first attended Shiz last year, so he had a whole year of experience before I came along.

“I would say so. It’s where most people go over the weekend, but this is the first time I’ve ever gone.”

I looked at him shocked. “Really?!”

“Yeah. I’ve never been invited and I’ve always wanted to go, but I never knew how to get here until I overheard those two girls talking today.”

“Well today’s your lucky day!” I said with a smile.

“Indeed it is.” He said with a chuckle. “Oh I see some of my friends I invited over there. Will you be okay on your own?”

“Yeah I will. Galinda should be around here somehere.”

“And Fiyero.” Ezra said with a glint of mischievousness.

“Yeah him too.”

Ezra laughed before he walked over to his two friends. Now I was left alone to fend for myself. I noticed a drink table on the side of the dance floor, so I made my way over there.

I had no idea what was in the glass, but it tasted quite good. I sipped quietly off to the side when I noticed a familiar figure approach me.

“Well if it isn’t Miss Upland.”

“Please don’t call me that.”

“Alright then. Princess.”

“Y/n.” I corrected him

“Princess Y/n.”

I figured it would be pointless so I gave up trying to correct him.

“I was almost starting to think you weren’t going to show up. What made you change your mind? Me?”

“Don’t be so full of yourself Fiyero. My brother forced me to come.”

“Aww so I can’t go around telling people that you’re my date tonight?”

I nearly choked on my drink, but I managed to regain my composure.

“Not a chance.”

“What a shame and to think I was going to ask you to dance.”

“I didn’t say no to that.” I said with a teasing smile. Fiyero looked shocked and glad that I was finally playing his game.

“Since you say so, I’ll just take this.”

Fiyero grabbed the drink from my hand and downed the rest of it before setting it on the table.

“Shall we?” He extended out his hand for me to take. I didn’t say anything, but I accepted his hand and he led me to the dance floor.

He began to twirl and whirl me around to the beat of the music and I found a couple laughs slip from my mouth. I haven’t had this much fun in a long time and I couldn’t believe that Fiyero of all people was making that happen.

One by one Galinda, Ezra, and his friends joined us as well. It was great to not care about the trivial things in life and simply dance through life as Fiyero likes to put it.

At one point the band slowed down the tempo of the music to a slower one and Fiyero gave me a knowing look. I looked back at Ezra and he winked at me before walking off the dance floor with his friends. I turned back to Fiyero and grabbed his hand. He gave me a beaming smiling, put his hands on my hips and began to move me across the ballroom floor.

“You know I’ve been thinking about what you said earlier today.” He said.

“About?” But I had an inkling about what he was talking about.

“About me pretending in front of everyone else.” I simply nodded and waited for him to continue.

“I guess I started doing it in order to hide my true depth of character. It was a way for me navigate the superficial social circles and get the chance to meet powerful people. I’ve done it for so long that I forgot what it’s like to just be me, but you were the first person to ever see through that.”

I took a moment to take in his words. It must have been exhausting to keep up that facade for so long. I felt bad for Fiyero. The fact that he felt the need to live like that.

“Well like I said you don’t have to pretend with me. I want to know the real Fiyero Tigelaar. Do you think you can manage to do that?”

“I can for you.”

Under normal circumstances I would have collapsed right then and there there, but that would do either of us no good. Fiyero had just finished telling me something he’s never spoken out loud before and I have to be the support he needs.

He twirled me around once more before pulling me right back into his arms. Then he brought his mouth up to my ear and whispered changing the subject.

“You look beautiful princess. I couldn’t take my eyes off of you tonight. I must say that blue is definitely your color. You are hands down the most beautiful one here.”

“I don’t think so.” I said as I looked down at the floor bashfully.

Fiyero grabbed my chin with his finger and brought my face up to look up at him.

“I beg to differ.” He grabbed a strand of my hair and pulled it back behind my ear. I felt his breath against my ear and shivers traveled down my spine. No boy has ever gave me as much attention as Fiyero has and I was at a loss with what to do. But in a strange way I knew exactly what to do, which is why I was bold enough to try something.

“Can I tell you a secret?” I whispered in his ear.

Fiyero looked confused, but he nodded anyway. I stood up on my tiptoes and went up to his ear, but at the very last second I grabbed his face and connected his lips with mine.

At first he didn’t responded, and I got so scared I got the message wrong, so I almost pulled away. However, he soon reciprocated the kiss and placed one hand firmly on my waist and the other framing my face. The kiss started simple, but then it became more intense. I would have kept on going, but then I remembered where we were.

I pulled away and looked around to see my brother looking at me with a knowing look as if he was saying I told you so. He mouthed, “And you said there was nothing else to it.”

“Shut up.” I mouthed back.

“Do you want to take this somewhere else? Away from the public eye.” Fiyero asked.

I looked up at his blue eyes and thought about being alone with Fiyero. Being able to hold him and kiss him to my hearts desire. I nodded with a smile.

Fiyero smiled back and interlocked our hands. Together the both of us walked out of the Ozdust ballroom without a care in the world and we simply danced through life.

#wicked #fiyero tigelaar #fiyero tigelaar x reader #galinda upland #wicked galinda #wicked fiyero #wicked film #winkie prince #ozdust ballroom #dancing through life

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rafeandonlyrafe · 1 year ago

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can i hold it?

words: 2k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, piss kink!!!, getting peed on haha lol :), shower sex, p in v sex, unprotected sex

you whine as rafe tries to pull away from you, making him laugh and press a kiss to your cheek. “just going pee baby.”

“take me with you.” you raise your arms up.

“to the bathroom?” rafe questions, raising his eyebrow.

“yeah.” you nod. “you said we could spend all day together, if you’re leaving this bed then so am i.” “alright, suit yourself.” rafe shrugs, leaning down to pick you up bridal style, walking the short distance to the attached bathroom. he sets you down on the counter as you stretch, having been cuddling and kissing since you arrived at rafes house, not wanting to do anything else.

rafe walks over to the toilet, flipping the lid up. you watch with fascination as he pulls at the tie on his sweatpants, the string unraveling so he can push them and his underwear down before pulling out his cock.

“wait.” you interrupt rafe.

“what baby? i really gotta piss?” rafe asks with a sigh.

“can i hold it for you?” you ask, not able to keep the excitement from your voice. “you know, while you pee.” “sure.” rafe shrugs. “but hurry the fuck up, i’m about to burst.” rafe had stayed in bed as long as he possibly could as to not break your relaxed state, which only led to urgently needing to go.

you quickly hop off the counter. you gently grab rafes soft dick, having only touched him a few times when soft, and always with the intention of getting him hard quickly.

you aim towards the toilet bowl, gasping when rafe begins to pee. you watch in fascination, surprised how much you like the feeling in your hand, even a little saddened when he finishes.

“gotta shake it a little baby.” rafe instructs, making you look at him with confusion in your eyes, wondering if he was just wanting you to give him a handjob.

“to get the last few drops out.” rafe explains.

“oh.” you nod, turning back to look at his dick, shaking it a little as final drops of piss fling off his tip.

“perfect.” rafe smiles, taking his cock and tucking it back into his underwear. “thanks baby.” “you’re welcome.” you smile, knowing you need to recreate the experience again immediately.

rafe heads back towards the bed, expecting you to follow as he flops down. “i… i gotta go get a drink of water.” you say quickly, rushing out of the room and towards the kitchen, getting a glass for yourself and one for rafe, making sure to fill his up fully.

“got one for you too.” you smile as you come back into the room, handing the glass to rafe who takes a hearty sip but then sets it on the nightstand.

“thanks princess.” he smiles. “now come give me a kiss.”

you wrap your arms around rafe as you fall into the bed, his lips finding yours as you cuddle up to him, legs twisting together.

“i love days like this.” you admit with a happy sigh, rubbing your thumb over his cheek. “where we can just relax alone.” “i love it too, baby.” rafe says softly. “sorry i’ve been so busy lately. shits just been wild. but we are home together now.” “thank you.” you mumble, running your lips teasingly over rafes until he can’t resist any longer, pushing forward to complete the kiss. rafe has been busy over the past couple of weeks, which resulted in you barely getting any attention, so he cleared the entire day just for the two of you, no plans, no friends, no parties, just the two of you.

“can i pick the movie?” you ask rafe, even though he always lets you chose (except that one time he really wanted to watch john wick)

“of course.” rafe hands you the remote, and you quickly get to work pulling up a film. “ponyo!” “you love ponyo.” rafe says with a roll of his eyes. he discounted the film based on the cutesy style, but always really enjoys every time you choose to watch it.

“shh. be quiet and drink your water.” you mumble, reaching for you own glass as well, hoping if rafe sees you drinking that it would spur him to gulp down more, and thankfully he does take a drink.

you cuddle up to rafe as the movie begins, watching as he occasionally drinks more of his water, almost absentmindedly until the glass is empty.

“i’ll get you a refill!” you tell rafe, about to jump off the bed when he stops you.

“baby, you love this part?” he questions, a hint of suspicion in his voice. “i’ll get the refill.”

“mmkay.” you nod, leaning back against the pillows as rafe exits the room, glass in hand as your eyes drift back to the tv, ponyo using her magic powers to make the toy boat increase in size.

you smile at rafe when he returns, also with a small bowl of cashews to snack on. you’re happy he chose a salty snack as he takes even more frequent drinks until you get to the ending of the movie, singing along and doing a little shimmy as the song plays over the credits.

“you’re so cute.” rafe smiles, setting his now empty bowl down onto his nightstand. “gotta pee again, wanna hold it?” “yes!” you squeal, following rafe with excitement as he heads into the bathroom.

“jesus, baby.” he laughs at your giddy face. “didn’t think you’d like holding it while i pee this much.” “i don’t know why.” you admit, rubbing your thighs together subconsciously, but it doesn’t go unnoticed by rafe. “i just really like it. makes me feel close to you.” you lean forward and press a kiss to rafes cheek, having to get up on your tiptoes to reach.

“wait… is that why you got me water? so you could hold it again?” rafe laughs, placing his hands on his hips.

“maybe…” you mumble, rocking back and forth on the heels of your feet.

“baby, did you choose ponyo because of the water? thought it would make me have to go even faster?”

“rafey, just pull it out!” you whine, surging forward to tug at the string of his sweatpants, unraveling it.

“you like my piss so much, i should go on you.” rafe scoffs, tugging the front of his pants down and pulling out his dick, but you don’t reach for it, your eyes wide and legs clenched together. rafe notices your reaction, smirking when he realizes just how much his words affect you.

“you want that huh? take your clothes off.”

“wh-what?” your eyebrows raise.

“well, unless you want me to piss all over your clothes, take them off. and get in the shower.” rafe says, tugging his own shirt off.

“o-okay.” you nod, quickly stripping your clothes off, glad that you’re not wearing much. you head into the shower, hands shaking in nerves and anticipation.

“well, kneel down.” rafe says, making you jump as he steps in behind you, also completely naked. you nod and kneel down, eyes wide as you look up at rafe.

“not… not the face, please.” you tell rafe. you’re not sure about it yet, you’re not even sure if you’d like his piss anywhere else on your body, but you desperately want to feel it.

“you control that, baby.” rafe says with a chuckle. “you’re holding it, remember?” “right.” you nod, reaching forward to grasp rafes dick, still mostly soft but you can tell he’s aroused and trying to hold it back. you aim towards your bare chest, letting out a gasp when rafe begins to pee, the stream landing on your tits, nipples instantly perking up as the warm stream spreads over them, then down the front of your belly.

a moan forces its way out of you when the piss glides down your body, pooling between your legs. since rafe was so hydrated, there’s almost no smell, his stream mostly clear as he finishes. you smile up at rafe, unable to control your expression, clearly letting him know how much you enjoyed it. you even remember to shake the last few drops out.

“such a good girl.” rafe leans down, pressing a kiss against your grin.

he helps you stand up before continuing to kiss, your hand still wrapped around his cock as rafe operates the shower one handed, making sure to turn the shower head away as it warms up, turning on the water to clean you off.

“before we get you all clean-” rafe says, your hand now beginning to stroke him when you feel how hard he’s getting against your palm. “let me get you a bit dirtier.”

rafe shoves your hand away before gripping your thigh and tugging it up around his waist, using his other hand to guide his cock towards your entrance. you moan as he doesn’t tease you at all, immediately sinking his hips forward, burying his cock deep inside of you.

rafe gives you a second to adjust, despite being sopping wet. “my dirty little whore. wanting me to piss all over you.”

“i… i liked it a lot.” you admit shyly, wiggling your hips slightly.

“i can tell, baby.” rafe lets out a laugh, beginning to snap his hips forward. “gonna use you like that a lot more often.” he says, thrusting into you with rapid pace, his hand moving to your clit, knowing either of you will be able to last long.

your hands grip his strong shoulders, feeling the muscles underneath your fingertips, pulling him even closer so your chests rub togethers, stimulating your still wet nipples.

“can’t believe you used ponyo to make me have to pee.” rafe laughs.

“i did what i had to.” you gasp out as his fingers rub faster, dipping down lower towards your entrance to collect more of your wetness on his fingers before gliding upwards.

“gosh, i’m never gonna get to piss alone ever again, am i?” rafe says, but he doesn’t mind, not when it clearly turns you both on so much.

“never.” you hum, eyes sliding shut as you press the back of your head against the shower wall.

“gonna cum for me princess?” rafe asks. truth is, you’ve been moments away since he first agreed to let you hold it.

“yeah.” you nod quickly. “yeah, gonna cum for you rafey.”

“go ahead, doll.” rafe smirks, snapping his hips forward until you let out a gasp, body shaking against the cold tiles as you cum, cunt pulsing around rafes cock, pushing him over the edge as well as he cums with a grunt, pushing into you as he releases.

“fuck!” you whine out, reaching down to shove rafes fingers away from your clit, needing a reprieve as he gently grinds into you, riding out his high.

“oh my god, baby.” rafe groans, dropping his head into the crook of your next. “that was so good.”

you let out a small giggle as your fingers reach to the back of his head, gently rubbing your fingers against his scalp through the short cropped hair.

“you’re lucky i don’t have to piss again.” rafe says, thrusting ever so slightly in again to show what he means.

“can… can you try in there next time?” you glance down.

rafe smiles as he pulls out, his cock flopping out of you as he slowly lowers your leg from around his hip, knowing you’ll need a moment to regain your balance as he keeps his chest pressed against your body, holding you upright against the wall. “just pissed on you and you already want me to piss inside of you? damn baby, i didn’t realize my sweet girlfriend was such a freak!”

“shut up.” you say with a roll of your eyes, a smile on your lips as rafe turns the shower head back towards the two of you, warm water running over your body as your eyes sink closed, already reminiscing in the memory of kneeling before rafe.

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk @starkeysheart @pradabambie @tobesolovelysstuff @alexiskirkland @ladyinbl00d @juniebugg

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rubycruzin4abruzin · 7 months ago

Text

love, lies, and first times

Summary: You were made to believe that your girlfriend, Hazel Callahan, lost her virginity to Stella-Rebecca some years ago. But when the truth is revealed during a game of truth or dare, your trust in her is shattered. What reason did she have to lie, and who did she actually lose her virginity to?

Pairing: loser!virgin!hazel x experienced!reader

Contains: mature language and content, lies, smut, fingering, oral, first time, kissing, drinking, tit play, both receiving, both giving, loser!hazel, sub!hazel, biblically!accurate!hazel, reader isn’t described as fem or masc

Word Count: 6k

A/N: soo one of my pet peeves when reading a hazel fic is when hazel keeps her rings on when fingering the reader and the reader likes it? Listen, I lost my virginity to someone who accidentally kept their rings on and it was painful. I had to ask them to take them off, highly unpleasant. I kinda make fun of that here, I hope some of y’all are ready to get called tf out ;)

“Hazel, truth or dare?”

You squeezed your girlfriend’s hand as PJ sent her a wicked grin. The senior class of the Rockbridge Fight Club had just graduated high school, and the club leaders, PJ and Josie, had decided to celebrate by throwing a party—one last ‘hurrah’ for the founding members. Now, you all sat in a circle in Josie’s dim basement, sipping poorly mixed jungle juice from red solo cups while David Fincher movies played on a vintage television in the background. Truth or dare was, of course, PJ’s idea—perhaps in the hopes that someone would dare her to kiss Brittany.

Hazel returned your squeeze, the cool metal of her rings pressing against your warm skin. “Truth,” she answered.

PJ’s lips curled into such a shit-eating grin, you began to wonder if maybe she really did eat ‘literal shit.’ “Who did you lose your virginity to?”

You smiled, already knowing the answer. Early into dating, you and Hazel had exchanged ‘first-time’ stories: yours had been with some girl at summer camp when you were sixteen, and Hazel had confessed to experimenting with Stella-Rebecca freshman year. She stressed that it was nothing romantic, simply two friends getting their first times out of the way, and then swore you to secrecy for the sake of Stella-Rebecca’s privacy. However, Stella-Rebecca was sitting right there, and you doubted she would appreciate Hazel exposing their previous affair to the entire group.

Sure enough, Hazel’s eyes widened as a blush crept upon her cheeks. “Uhhh…”

Her hand seemed to stiffen within yours, tightening its hold as her rings indented your skin. You glanced across the circle at Stella-Rebecca, who stared at Hazel with an expectant (and somewhat oblivious) smile.

“You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to,” you murmured to Hazel in an attempt to calm her, but her grip only further constricted.

PJ rolled her eyes. “Come on, Hazel, I gave you an easy one. Everyone knows you probably lost it to her,” she gestured towards you.

It was your turn to blush. “Actually, uh…” you looked towards your girlfriend, who seemed to have lost her ability to speak. “We haven’t really, uh…”

PJ gasped as her eyes almost popped out of her head. “No way! You two haven’t jacked each other off yet?”

It was true, you and Hazel had yet to take your relationship to that level. Not like you didn’t try, you had been dating for months, but Hazel seemed to shy away every time you so much as slipped a hand up her shirt. You knew you shouldn’t pressure her, but you were beginning to feel a bit unattractive—after all, Hazel had lost her virginity to a model. How could you possibly compare to that?

Josie, ever the peacemaker, decided to chime in. “Ok PJ, let’s back off a little bit…”

Hazel seemed to relax a bit at Josie’s words. She eased her grip, and you heard her exhale a breath you didn’t know she was holding.

“I have to admit, I’m a little curious myself.” Stella-Rebecca interjected, taking you by surprise. “Hazel never talks about her sex life.”

Your face contorted in confusion. Hazel tensed up again, but your attention was focused on the girl sitting across from you. “What are you talking about?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know, sometimes we’ll be hanging out and the topic of sex will come up, and I’ll share some hookup story and she’ll just kind of… change the subject or something.”

There it was again, that familiar burn of envy like acid in your veins. “Maybe she’s jealous,” you suggested, words unintentionally dripping with venom.

Stella-Rebecca furrowed her brow, her expression innocent. “I doubt Hazel would be jealous of my sex life… unfortunately, it has more men than I think either of us would prefer.”

”Well, you were her first.”

“What?!” Stella-Rebecca exclaimed, her jaw dropping in shock. PJ cackled maniacally, clearly having the time of her life.

Hazel’s hand was clamped so tightly around yours that her knuckles were white, but you barely noticed as you stayed fixated on Stella-Rebecca. “I mean… yeah… weren’t you?”

Stella-Rebecca furiously shook her head. “Hazel and I have known each other our whole lives, but never like that. Besides, I didn’t come out as a lesbian until after you two started dating. Why did you think it was me?”

You felt like a complete moron. “I don’t know…” you muttered, glaring at your girlfriend. She refused to meet your gaze, staring down at her lap while shades of crimson painted her features. Her hand was still clasped around yours, but you forcibly removed it, too hurt to want to be touched.

“Ok, so, Hazel’s a prude. Glad we got that out of the way.” PJ sneered.

Josie reached over and smacked her arm. “So are you, PJ. Hypocrite.”

“I am not a prude, I’m a virgin.” PJ corrected. “There’s a difference.”

The game continued once the tension died down. No one dared PJ to kiss Brittany, so when it was her turn again, she took it upon herself to dare Brittany to kiss her, which the poor girl blatantly refused. After that, PJ pretty much lost interest and the game dissipated, with everyone breaking the circle to go off and do their own things. Josie and Isabel were tucked away in a corner, failing to be discreet during a heated makeout session. PJ had joined Brittany on the couch, while Brittany sipped her drink and scrolled through her phone, trying to ignore Pj’s passes. The rest of the girls, including Hazel, huddled in front of the small television, chatting through the David Fincher movies. You, however, stayed back in an attempt to avoid your girlfriend.

“How could she lie to me like that?” You asked Brittany, plopping down on the couch between her and PJ. Rolling her eyes, PJ got up and left the basement, retreating upstairs for whatever reason.

Brittany seemed grateful for your company (and relieved at PJ’s disappearance). “I don’t know, babe,” she said, slinging her arm around you and pulling you close. “I’m sure she had a good reason.”

You groaned pathetically, resting your head on her shoulder. “I can’t think of any.”

Brittany leaned down and kissed the top of your head, sympathetic to your feelings. You glanced over to the television area and saw Hazel staring back at you, watching your interaction with Brittany. She looked sad, not jealous, just sad. Those big blue eyes that would look at you with so much love were now pained, filled with remorse. She sort of resembled a kicked puppy, and every instinct in your body told you to run over and hold her, comfort her, before you remembered why you were angry in the first place.

Before you could force yourself to break your shared gaze, PJ suddenly came bumbling down the stairs again, holding an empty beer bottle. “Look what I found in the kitchen trash!” She exclaimed, commanding the room’s attention.

Josie shook her head in disbelief. “Why were you in my trash?”

“Doesn’t matter! Now we can play ‘seven minutes in heaven!’” PJ declared, moving to the middle of the room and gesturing for everyone to get the circle back together.

Brittany groaned, all too aware that this was just another one of PJ’s stunts to try and get with her. It was your turn to be sympathetic.

“Don’t worry,” you whispered to her. “If the bottle starts to land on you during PJ’s turn, I’ll intercept it.”

Brittany mouthed a ‘thank you’ before taking your hand and walking with you to join the circle. This time, you sat directly across from Hazel, as far away from her as possible. You could feel her sad puppy-dog eyes boring into you, but you refused to meet her gaze.

“Alright,” PJ asserted, rubbing her hands together. “If there’s no volunteers to go first…”

“I think our host should spin first.” Isabel interrupted, looking towards Josie with what could only be described as ‘fuck-me’ eyes.

Josie giggled as she took the bottle from a reluctant PJ and spun it in the center. Everyone watched with anticipation as the bottle slowed, almost stopping in front of Annie before Isabel grabbed it and pointed it towards herself.

“Wow, what a coincidence!” Isabel exclaimed, much to Josie’s amusement.

The two held hands and disappeared into the small coat closet under the basement stairs. PJ rolled her eyes. “It’s no fun if you pick your partners!” She yelled after them.

One thing about 'seven minutes in heaven’ that no one talks about is what the rest of the group does during the seven minutes. Do you talk? Keep playing? Listen in? You certainly didn’t know, and apparently neither did anyone else—with the exception of PJ, who set her phone timer before sitting with her ear pressed to the door.

“So… what’s everyone’s summer plans?” Stella-Rebecca asked in an attempt to fill the silence.

Annie shrugged in response. “Mostly working as a counselor for Vacation Bible School and protesting outside Planned Parenthood. Same old, same old.”

“Would you guys shut up over there?” PJ hissed from across the room. “I’m trying to listen to them fuck!”

Eventually, seven agonizing minutes finished with the screech of PJ’s timer. “Times up, lovebirds!” She shouted, throwing open the door.

The ‘lovebirds’ stumbled out of the closet in a fit of giggles. Both of their clothes were wrinkled, hair disheveled, and Isabel’s lipstick was smeared all over Josie’s mouth. The couple was immediately met with cheers and jeers from the rest of the party as they made their way back to the circle.

“Wow, thanks for warming up the closet for us you two,” PJ snickered. “Now, as for who’s next…”

“Hazel, why don’t you spin?” Isabel suggested, seizing the bottle before PJ could and passing it to Hazel.

“Oh, come on!” PJ complained, having been cockblocked yet again.

The group all shared a chuckle at PJ’s dismay, especially Brittany who was laughing so hard tears began to form. PJ could do nothing but pout until the laughter died down and Hazel reached into the center, spinning the bottle.

Round and round the bottle spun, the group watching with bated breath. The hollow glass rotated, nozzle slowing, slowing until it finally stopped on no other than… you. All previously dissipated tension immediately resurfaced as the room seemed to still, everyone recalling the incident from earlier.

“Yeah, you guys! Go in there and give us absolutely nothing!” PJ sneered, earning another smack on the arm from Josie.

You stared at the bottle, nozzle pointing directly at you, no question about it. Through your peripheral vision, you could see Hazel nervously fidgeting with her rings, unsure of how to proceed.

“Maybe we could… play something else?” Brittany suggested gently.

PJ clapped her hands together. “Nope! Rules are rules. Get in there, you two.” She seized your hands and dragged you to the closet, throwing both of you in before slamming the door.

Hazel kept her gaze fixated on her fidgeting hands while you pretended to be very interested in a small tear on one of the hanging coats. After what felt like an eternity, you checked your watch. Only twelve seconds had passed. You let out a frustrated sigh. “Well, one of us has to say something.”

She glanced towards the door. “How much do you wanna bet PJ is listening in on us?”

You shot her a glare, not finding her joke funny.

“I’m sorry…” Hazel muttered, lowering her head again.

At that moment, all of the hurt, anger, and confusion you had kept bottled up to save face rose to the surface. “Why would you lie to me?” You demanded, using her own line against her.

Her face crumpled upon hearing the true betrayal behind your question. “I didn’t… I didn’t mean to…”

“Hazel, you lied about losing your virginity to Stella-Rebecca. That’s such an odd thing to lie about, it doesn’t make any sense…”

“Ok,” Hazel cut you off. “I didn’t have sex with Stella-Rebecca...”

“No shit,” you spat. “So what, you like, want to?”

“No!” Hazel insisted. “Stella and I are friends. I’ve never thought about her that way.”

“Then why have you had me believing you slept with her?” You hissed, a weak attempt to keep your voice down.

She was at it again, fiddling with those goddamned rings. “I don’t know, I just…” she swallowed, hesitating. “You told me about your first time… at summer camp… and you asked me about mine. We had just started dating. I didn’t want you to think I was inexperienced.”

“Hazel,” you sighed. “You are inexperienced.”

“I mean, like, I didn’t want you to see me as an immature little baby who didn’t know what she was doing, so I panicked and made something up. I shouldn’t have, I’m so sorry. I really didn’t mean to hurt you, I swear.”

The edges of your anger blurred as you realized fear had driven your girlfriend to a desperate lie. Poor Hazel, she looked shrunken, almost. She had drawn into herself, vulnerability exposed like a house of cards in the wind. You reached out and gently lifted her chin, forcing her to look up at you and taking her by surprise.

“Hazel,” you cooed. “It’s ok that you’ve never had sex before, I don’t care.”

“Really?” She asked.

You nodded. “Of course I don’t care. I just thought you’d been pushing me away because you didn’t find me that attractive, but…”

“What?!” Hazel’s exclamation took you aback, making you drop your hand. “That’s not it at all! Shit, I was just worried I’d mess up somehow, I’ve never been more attracted to anyone in my entire life! I think you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen. No, really! Every time I look at you, I’m like ‘holy fuck, how did I get so lucky…’”

You cut her off by crashing your lips against hers. Her body initially tensed at the sudden contact, but soon melted into yours as it had done so many times before. Your hands found the nape of her neck as you drew her closer, pressing her up against you as much as possible. Lip-locks with Hazel were familiar to you, but never had one been so passionate, so rough and yet reassuring at the same time.

When you finally pulled away, both of you were gasping to catch your breath, realizing you had inadvertently chosen each other over oxygen. You gazed upon Hazel, studying her flushed cheeks, her lustrous lips, and the way her shirt collar sat askew atop her shoulders. With the way she stared back, you could tell you appeared just as rumpled.

“Well that’s good to know,” you giggled, reaching out to fix her collar. “Listen, Hazel, you’re a virgin. So what? I don’t care who you have or haven’t been with before. If you’re not ready yet, that’s perfectly fine, really. I would never pressure you into anything.”

Back at it again with those fucking rings. What the hell could you have possibly said this time?

“That’s the thing…” she began, her gaze fixated to the floor again. “I think I… I think…”

“Hazel…” you whispered her name, placing two fingers on her arm and making her shiver.

“I… I think I am ready. I’ve been ready. For a little while now.”

Your eyes widened at her confession. “Seriously?”

She nodded. “Yeah. I want you… uh, I mean… I want to do it… with you. I just… I don’t… I don’t know how to…” each sputter was paired with imperceptible hand gestures, desperate to communicate something she didn’t have the words to say.

“To… initiate it?” You asked.

“Yes! That!” She sighed, thankful you knew her well enough to understand her babbles. “I mean, should it be planned? Spontaneous? Do I just walk up to you and say ‘hey I wanna have sex?’ Where do I do it? How? Can I just blurt it out of nowhere or does something have to be happening first? If so, then what?”

“Hazel…” she was rambling again. You placed your hands on both sides of her head, smoothing her hair. “There’s no right way to initiate it, trust me. You can just do whatever you’re most comfortable with.”

She met your gaze again, head still caught between your palms. There was something different behind her eyes, though, something besides remorse or even vulnerability. Her brilliant blue’s seemed darker somehow, almost… hungry. You finally caught on when she snuck a glance at your lips, and closed the distance between you.

This kiss was different from the last: still passionate, but gentler, lighter, as if you were exploring for the first time. Her hands found your waist, loosely gripping the fabric of your top. You reciprocated, running your thumb over the hem of her tank top and accidentally brushing over a patch of bare skin. She flinched at the unfamiliarity, and you pulled away.

“Are you ok?” You whispered, forehead pressed against hers. She nodded, half-lidded eyes not leaving your lips. “Can I…?” Your fingers hesitated just under her tank top, barely grazing the skin of her stomach. She didn’t respond. She didn’t need to. For the first time in her life, she let her body do the talking as she pressed into you, capturing you in another kiss.

Slowly, surely, your fingers inched up the underside of her tank top. You took the time to trace little shapes into her skin, moving from her waist, to her stomach, to the underside of her rib cage. Her breath hitched with each new touch; Hazel had always been ticklish, but the way your fingertips danced along her torso made her shiver rather than squirm. As her comfortability levels grew, your hand traveled up, further, further…

“Holy shit, they were really gonna fuck!”

PJ’s grating voice startled you apart like an unwelcome infomercial in the dead of night. You glared at your intruder standing in the wide-open doorway, a wicked smirk plastered on her face. “Lose track of time?”

Hazel tugged at your wrists, and it wasn’t until that moment when you realized your hands were still under her tank top (much to PJ’s entertainment). With a mumbled apology, you detached yourself and helped her smooth out the fabric bunched around her ribs. Both of your faces were burning with a mixture of embarrassment and fluster.

“You could’ve knocked, you know…” Hazel muttered, watching the floor as she left the closet.

“I could’ve,” PJ admitted. “But where’s the fun in that?”

The rest of the party watched with amusement as you and Hazel exited the closet. Your flushed features and darting glances did not go unnoticed, prompting a series of snorts and stifled laughter. Forget David Fincher, you two were your own movie.

“So, I assume it’s safe to say you’ve made up?” Josie asked cheekily, squeezing Isabel’s hand, who bit the inside of her mouth to keep from laughing.

“We sure did,” you said with a sheepish grin.

Brittany couldn’t help but snicker. “Guess that explains your rosy cheeks.”

You exchanged looks with Hazel as an idea suddenly popped into your head. “Actually, Hazel’s cheeks are warm because she doesn’t feel too good.”

“I don’t?” Hazel asked.

“You don’t,” you repeated, shooting her a look. “In fact, oh my, I do feel warm! We must be coming down with something.”

“Wait, but I don’t feel…” Hazel seemed confused until she met your gaze and understood your plan. She raised her hand to her forehead, making a big show of collapsing into the basement wall. “Oh, woe is me! It is true! I seem to have fallen ill! Cough, cough, wheeze!”

You had to fight the corners of your mouth to keep from curling. Jesus, this girl couldn’t act for shit.

“Yes… anyway we need to leave. Right now. We don’t want to get any of you sick.”

“Oh, I’m sure that’s the reason,” Josie sent you a knowing smirk.

You grabbed Hazel’s hand and ran with her up the stairs and out of the basement, the partygoers calling after you with whoops, hollers, and exaggerated kissing sounds. As the basement door creaked shut behind you, the last thing you heard was PJ’s whiny complaint. “No fair! Hazel gets pussy before I do?”

The two of you rushed hand-in-hand from Josie’s front door and piled into Hazel’s car, you in the passenger seat as usual.

She turned to you, keeping her free hand on the wheel. “Are your parents home?”

“They never are.”

Hazel had to release your hand to put her car in reverse, pulling out of the driveway like a madwoman. You anticipated her fingers intertwining with yours again, but instead, she reached over and rested her hand on your upper thigh. Her thumb gently brushed across the denim of your jeans, sending flutters through your stomach. Hazel was getting bold.

The drive back to your house was nothing but perilous. Hazel had always been a reckless driver, but the sharp turns and disregarded stop signs were wild even for her. Arriving at your house, she parked haphazardly, jumping out before rushing to throw open your door.

“Well that was fast,” you teased as Hazel helped you out of the car. “Looking forward to something?”

Words seemed to fail her as she silently took your face in her hands, kissing you with the desperation of a castaway grasping for a lifeline. She had you pressed into the passenger door, hips flush against yours. Your palms rested on her collarbone, feeling her rapid heartbeat.

You gently pushed her away, almost swearing you heard the faintest whimper leave her lips. “Why don’t we take this inside?” You suggested, to which Hazel could only nod.

The two of you stumbled into your house, barely taking the time to break away from each other to see where you were going. When you eventually made it to your bedroom, you slammed the door behind you and Hazel thrust you against the white wood. You relaxed into her, expecting more kisses, but looked up to find her features filled with apprehension.

“Hazel…” you whispered, moving your hands to her shoulders. “Is everything ok?”

“Y-yeah…” she stuttered, her gaze dropping slightly. She had seized you by the hips, fingers hooked in your belt loops, hands beginning to tremble.

You gently lifted her jaw. “Are you sure you’re ready for this? It’s ok if you changed your mind…”

“No! No, please. I need you so bad you have no idea…” she cut you off, her confession making you blush. “I just… I don’t… I mean… I’ve watched some porn and read fanfiction but…”

“Hazel, sex isn’t anything like porn or fanfiction.”

“Oh fuck, it isn’t?” She asked in disbelief, her wide eyes making you chuckle.

“Why don’t you let me lead, then?” You suggested, calming her with a tender kiss on her jawline. “Go lay down for me, yeah?”

Hazel did as she was told and moved to lie down on your pale-blue bedspread, a favorite of yours because you thought it matched her eyes. You stayed behind, stripping down to a bra and panties as Hazel watched with unblinking eyes.

“Relax, my love,” you purred, climbing onto the bed and hovering over her. You shifted, hips brushing against hers momentarily, causing Hazel’s eyelids to flutter and a sigh to leave her lips. A smirk crossed your face. “Sensitive, are we?”

Hazel could barely speak through her pathetic little whines. “P-please…”

You planted a sweet kiss on her lips before trailing down to her neck, exploring her soft skin, discovering unknown sensitive spots: her earlobe, the nape of her jaw, along her collarbone. Your fingers flitted underneath the hem of her tank top, creeping up, up, until you felt the cool nylon of her sports bra against your palm. Hazel shuddered at the newfound sensation, and you pulled back.

“Still good?”

“Good,” she breathed. “Yes, good.”

You hooked your finger under the neck of her tank top, coaxing her to sit up slightly. Pinching her shirt collar, you slid it off her shoulders before lifting the bottom of her tank, stopping with it bunched under her armpits. She finished the job for you, and you tossed the shirts aside, not caring where they landed.

Now she was left in a sports bra the color of fog, her nipples erect and poking through the fabric. You slipped two fingers under her band, looking to her for approval. She nodded, letting you peel it off until her tits sprang free.

“Holy shit, Haze,” you muttered, practically drooling at the sight of her naked breasts. Underneath the compressive sports bras, hidden beneath layers of baggy clothing, Hazel had perfect tits: round, firm, with little pink buds sitting like cherries on top of two scoops of vanilla ice cream. “How could you keep these from me?”

Hazel let out a laugh that sounded more like a breath, not entirely sure how to respond. Leaning down, you took one of the swollen buds in your mouth, swirling your tongue around it while palming her other breast. Hazel threw her head back against the pillow, letting out cries of pleasure while her hands entangled themselves in your hair. You took your time, caressing, suckling, exploring every inch of her bare chest, memorizing each unique detail: a freckle on her décolletage, a vaguely mushroom-shaped birthmark hidden beneath her left breast.

She was, for lack of a better word, perfect. You had been so distracted, so deeply buried in her cleavage, that you hadn’t noticed time slipping away until you felt her pressing down on your head. Your name flew from her mouth in a desperate gasp. “I can’t… p-please… keep going…”

“So impatient,” you teased, mouth releasing her nipple with a pop. Hazel only whined in response, bucking against your stomach, hips urgently searching for some kind of release. You smirked, leaving her breasts and peppering kisses down her stomach, stopping when you reached the waistband of her gym shorts.

“Off?” You asked, though it was merely a formality at this point; you already knew the answer. She made a noise of approval, a mix between a groan and a squeak, and shifted her hips to allow you to slip them off her legs.

Now, there stood nothing between you two but the thin cotton of her slate-colored boxers. She was writhing, silently begging you to rip them off and have at her, but you couldn’t help but stop and admire the growing spot of wetness that had accumulated through the fabric. Her hips sputtered, shook, pairing with her pitiful whimpers to plead for attention. You, however, had other plans.

“What’s your rush, Haze? We’ve got all night, don’t we?” You were teasing her now, a wicked grin appearing as your fingertips danced along the elastic band of her boxers.

Her raised pelvis came crashing down onto the bedspread as she cried out in defeat. “Fuck… please… just take them off…”

You frowned, mocking her, using your thumb to gently encircle her clothed cunt. Her head sank further into the pillow, broken moans falling out of her mouth like beads from a shattered necklace.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Hazel. Do you always get this wet?” You asked in disbelief. Her boxers felt like a saturated sponge.

“I don’t know,” she sighed, fighting to keep her speech intelligible. “I don’t think so, maybe. I… I need you… really bad…”

“Need me?” You replied cheekily, wrapping your fingers around the elastic and slipping her boxers off in one quick motion.

Your girlfriend's naked body was now fully on display before you. You had to take a moment, admiring details of the areas she had never let you see before: a small mole on her outer thigh, or the way her hip bones protruded to form little ridges across her pelvis. Her chest heaved, lips parted ever so slightly as she awaited your next move.

“Hazel?”

“Y-yeah?”

“Are you ready?”

She took in a breath, blowing it out big. “More than anything.”

You positioned your head between her legs, leaving feather-light kisses up and down her inner thighs. Her head tossed from side-to-side, body struggling to keep still with your mouth so close to where she needed you. Testing the waters, you ghosted a kiss over her clit, watching as she shuddered upon contact.

God she was sensitive.

Finally taking mercy on her, you licked a long, broad stripe up the length of her cunt, tongue lingering on her clit perhaps a bit longer than necessary. The cries that erupted from her throat were enough to send shocks through your own body. You moved to straddle her leg, grinding against it while you ate her out—a shift not going unnoticed by Hazel, only spurring her forward.

“Ohmygod… Ohmygod fuck…” your name tumbled from her lips amidst her breathless moans. She squirmed under your touch—every lick, each roll against her shin setting her body ablaze. A smirk tugged at your lips as your mouth created a vortex around her clit, causing her eyes to roll back like a slot machine landing on the jackpot.

You didn’t get to do this for very long before her plush thighs enveloped your head. “W-what…? It feels… I think, I think I’m…”

“Breathe, baby girl,” you cooed, never taking your mouth off of her. “Just relax, cum for me. Fuck you’re doing so well…”

Her hands flew back to your scalp, legs shaking, guttural cries erupting from her throat as her orgasm consumed her. Fuck she sounded pretty. Her thighs kept you right where she needed you, only loosening once her breathing evened and she slowly came back to reality.

You lifted your head once her legs collapsed onto your bedspread, her bones feeling like jello. “Was that alright, Haze?” You asked, crawling back up to lay next to her.

“Wow,” she sighed, pupils dilated into big black buttons. “Just wow.” She laid there a moment, silently recovering, wearing a dazed, blissful expression. But then her face shifted into something sour, almost uneasy. “I don’t, I mean… I don’t know how…”

“It’s fine,” you ensured.

“It’s not,” she argued. “I mean, you were… and on my leg…”

“Hey, Hazel,” you brushed her hair back, letting your fingers fall. “We don’t have to do anything else. Tonight was about you.”

“No, no. Please, I wanna fuck you so bad, I’ve been daydreaming about it for so long.”

You couldn’t have blushed harder if you tried.

“I just… I haven’t… like you did with that girl from summer camp. What if I try and it isn’t anything like that?”

“Hazel…” you reached for her face, kissing her reassuringly. “It won’t be anything like it was with her.”

Her face fell. “It won’t?”

“Of course not,” you replied. “What I did with her, it was just sex. Nothing like this, this is completely different.”

“Why?”

You had to gather up the courage to say your next words. “Hazel… I’m in love with you.”

She finally faced you with wide eyes. “You’ve never said that before.”

“I know,” you said. “I’m saying it now.”

That blissful expression from earlier returned to her pretty face. “I love you too.”

You giggled, and she pulled you into another kiss. Her weight shifted until you were on your back, her body covering yours, legs on either side of your hips. She tried to emulate you, peppering kisses down your neck and chest until she reached the satin cusp of your bra.

“How do… uh… I only wear sports bras…”

You sat up, guiding her hands around to your back and helping her unhook your clasp. She slid it off your shoulders and tossed it aside without care, her attention fixated purely on the newly-exposed flesh in front of her. “Holy fuck,” she exclaimed on a sigh.

Another smirk crept across your face. “What? If I didn’t know any better, I’d think these were the first you’d ever seen!”

She shot you an unamused look before diving in, suckling at one of your breasts and pawing at the other. Her eyes stayed unblinking, watching you as your head relaxed further into the pillow and soft sounds spilled from your lips.

“Am I doing ok?” She asked in a whisper.

“More than,” your voice came out soft and sweet, causing the tips of your lover’s ears to tint pink.

Hazel trailed downward, her soft lips leaving kisses all the way down to your stomach, her tousled hair tickling your skin. She paused at your cotton panties, her thumb passing over the fabric with uncertainty.

“Need help taking those off too?” You quipped.

“Definitely not,” she replied, seizing the waistband and sliding them off your legs.

Hazel gazed upon your naked body as if she were an artist, and you her masterpiece. Her hands hesitated before resting on your ribs, fingernails gently scratching down the length of your sides. She bent down, planting kisses on your hip bones, reveling in your quiet whimpers.

“Hazel…” you purred, and she got the message. Her hand slipped between your legs, fingertips tracing your entrance before sliding inside.

“Ouch,” you hissed, sitting up in pain.

Startled, Hazel pulled her hand back. “W-what? What happened? Shit, did I hurt you?”

“Kinda…” you paused, trying to pinpoint the discomfort. It almost felt like she had unraveled a paperclip and impaled your core—an unpleasant sensation you couldn’t explain until you saw…

“Hazel,” you exclaimed with a laugh. “You kept your rings on!”

“Yeah…” she muttered, cradling the hand that burned you. “I thought you liked my rings.”

“I love your rings,” you assured. “Just not inside me.”

“But the characters in the fanfictions I’ve read keep their rings on, and the feedback is always positive!”

There was nothing you could do to stop yourself from giggling at her protest. “Hazel, those fanfictions are written by people who probably haven’t experienced the real thing. Trust me, rings up there? Uncomfortable at best.”

Hazel nodded, mumbling a sheepish apology and removing her rings before slipping two fingers back in. “Better?”

“Much.”

With her confidence temporarily shaken, Hazel began to move against you, slowly, steadily, studying your facial expressions. Each gasp, every subtle twitch helped her gauge what you wanted, what you needed from her. She may have gone in blind, but she was a gifted learner, and you her favorite subject.

Soon after Hazel regained her certainty, you started to feel that familiar ache within your core. “Hazel… doing so good… my pretty girl… I’m so…”

She perked up, still keeping her hands where you seemed to want them. “Really? You mean it? Should I do anything different?”

You were about to shake your head, but stopped when you got an idea. “Do this with your fingers,” you demonstrated by curling your own.

She followed suit, reveling in your little mewls when she scratched against your g-spot.

But you weren’t finished yet. “Fuck… Hazel… almost… now just move your palm…”

You didn’t even get to finish your sentence. Hazel curved her palm, stimulating your clit, and your orgasm crashed over you like a flash flood breaking through a dam. Your back arched, legs shaking, chest heaving as you rode out your climax. Hazel wouldn’t, couldn’t look away; a moment ago she had been naive, inexperienced, but now the prettiest girl she’d ever seen was creaming all over her fingers, and it was all her own doing.

Her movements halted at what she hoped was the right moment. She withdrew her fingers, curiosity overtaking her as she popped them into her mouth and moaned at the taste, instantly regretting not going down on you. Her mind swirled, flashbacks of what just happened mixing with the oblivion of what to do next.

“Hazel,” you said finally. “Come lay down.”

She crawled back up to you, laying her head on the pillow. “Did I do ok?”

You giggled. “You did perfect.”

A grin spread across her face, reaching from ear-to-ear. Her eyelids were already drooping. “I’m so tired.”

“Me too,” you rolled over, wrapping your arm around her waist and nuzzling into her hair. “Go to sleep, my love. You’ve had a big night.”

She snuggled up closer to you, muttering a barely-perceptible ‘I love you’ before drifting off to sleep.

Tag List: @chloepricesgirl @k1ssm3m0re @joanvisitsrome @mxlti-fand0m-imaginess @09carriages @hazelvrr @ummlover @lovinglynny @lilyannez @at1nyzen @lovepity @camilleee222 @reiisstuff @sofi4v13 @pensoterios @everybodyhatesari @sapphicarribean @sam-cooperrr @gay4lanadelrey666 @nickeverdeen

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johnwickb1tsch · 8 months ago

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Everyone is sending GIF requests, so, here is mine. Hint: Jealous John? (Though I doubt this man can ever be jealous but...whatever comes to your genius brain)

Thanks!

@sweetwolfcupcake SWEEETS!!!!! I loved this prompt SO MUCH!!! You're such a genius. *kisses your head* I hope you like this! 💗💗💗

Bodyguard!John Wick x Shy!Curvy!Fem!Student!Reader

⚠warnings: threat of noncon (not John), mention of parental death

For the record, you didn’t mean to fall in love with John Wick. But he was nothing like the other goons your father had tasked with guarding you before. Wick was tall, and handsome, and had the soulful eyes of a poet. You know he’s dangerous; he can kill a man 30 ways with a pencil (the men of your father’s Bratva will not shut up about it) but he seems so…gentle. And the thing that really proved your undoing?

That good looking bastard was bookish, and it did something inconceivable to your lit major brain. Ever your dark shadow, you spent countless late nights in the library together, and so many Saturday afternoons browsing the used bookshops, combing for treasures. He would rescue the books that looked better fit for the waste bin, taking them to repair. Maybe he was there to protect you, for your father had many unsavory enemies, but it was easy to forget when John discussed with you the finer points of the Bloomsbury Set or the themes of Anna Karenina.

Maybe your father assigned John to you because he was one of the few gangsters around in his brigata one could trust to guard a relatively innocent young lady–that didn’t mean John was safe from you. You just couldn’t help yourself; you’d like to plead insanity, your honor, the night you finally broke and tried to kiss him, while he was helping you with your homework for Russian Lit 301.

How stupid you felt, how utterly pathetic, when he’d very kindly dislodged you from his so soft mouth, looking at you with pity in his sad dark eyes. “You know…we can’t do this,” he told you.

Mortified, you’d fled to your room and cried, knowing you are the most ridiculous human being on the face of the earth.

What were you thinking?

You are nothing like the tall, ethereal creatures that populate the clubs where Wick frequents with your father. You are shy, and curvy, and frankly…a nerd. An old soul, your father would say fondly, but you know he is just being kind.

You’re not sure how you got it into your head, that you were going to make Wick sorry. You’ve never been one for going out, but you decide to give it a whirl, wanting to be anyone but yourself. You decide to go to the Red Circle, to hang out with the other Bratva brats who care way more about clubbing and clothes and who’s fucking who, than classes at NYU.

At first you really hate it–but after a few shots of vodka, it’s not so bad. John has to hang back, keeping an eye on you but not interacting with your friends. He’s scary good at lurking in the shadows, but you know he’s keeping an eye on every move you make. Maybe that’s why you let Alexsei kiss you, the son of a semi-friendly loan shark who works in proximity with your father. You don’t really like him, if you’re being honest. But he’s not totally hideous–and he’s there–and John will have to watch it all.

You and Alex start to have a thing. It’s no big deal. Something to do, on the summer break from your studies. You invite him over to watch a movie, knowing you’ll have the house to yourself. Your father is always at his office doing business, your idiotic brother is always out getting into trouble with his khuligan friends, and your mother…is dead, God rest her poor soul.

You can tell Alex is a little drunk, when he shows up at your door. He’s very handsy, when you settle in on the couch to watch the latest mindless action flick, his pick. It’s ok, until he tries to unbutton your pants.

You have a secret.

You’re 21, nearly graduated from university–and you’re still a virgin.

This is not a thing you intend to give to Alexsei Plushenko. You don’t even really like the way he touches you.

“Stop, Alex.”

“Don’t be scared,” he tries to coax you. “This will be fun.”

“No,” you say. “Let’s just…”

He covers your mouth with his, shutting you up, his heavy body pinning you on the couch. “Don’t be such a stuck up bitch.” His groping fingers squeeze your breast clumsily, painfully, before fumbling with your jeans again. You try to push him off, but he’s heavy, and strong.

Suddenly, he is yanked from you like he weighs nothing at all. You hardly recognize what is happening at first, until you hear the sound of flesh striking flesh. John is on him, his iron fist meeting the younger man’s face.

“John! Stop!”

Wick looks up at you, meeting your eyes in a primal lock of stares–your heart drops and soars again, as you feel as though you’ve stumbled on a wolf over his kill, and the wildest thing?

You get the inkling that wolf is jealous.

“Don’t hurt him anymore,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. A beating will make some complications for your father. A death? Could mean war.

Wick punches the handsy young man one more time, his eyes never leaving yours, before hauling Alex up by the collar and frog marching him out the front door, tossing him down the concrete steps of your home.

John finds you waiting for him in the marble foyer, his eyes wild, his knuckles torn. You don’t even know what to say.

“What did you even see in him?” he finally demands, clearly annoyed.

“He wasn’t you,” you answer without thinking.

Wick steps up to you, toe to toe, so that you have to crane your neck to meet his eyes. His hair has broken free from its slicked back style, tendrils in his eyes.

He’s never looked more beautiful, your savage savior.

“You’re trying to get me killed.”

You shake your head, the very thought anathema to you. You are transfixed, unable to look away, unable to think. “You’re too precious to me,” you admit, and screw your eyes shut the moment you admit it, a spear of mortification piercing you from your heart to your stupid, aching, cunt.

“Milaya…”

It’s the sweetest thing he’s ever said to you.

Your eyes drop to his knuckles, torn open in his defense of you. “You’re hurt.”

“It’s nothing.”

“Not to me.” You don’t know where you get the courage, to take his hand, and lead him up to your room. You can hardly believe it, that he actually follows you. In your ensuite bathroom you dab at his knuckles with a washcloth, slather him with ointment and plaster him with bandaids. You run out of sober flesh colored ones, so the last cut gets a Disney bandage, Ariel and sea-flowers decorating this severe man’s knuckles.

He lets you do all this, watching you intensely with those dark eyes you’re certain can see into your soul. You stand too close–and he lets you, this haunted man who watches over you day and night. Your whole life you have never wanted for anything, your father’s money buying you all your heart could possibly desire.

Until now.

You find it hard to meet his eyes, zeroing in on a spot of blood on his stark white dress shirt.

“Y/n.” With a gentle knuckle under your chin he turns your gaze up to his again. “You are too smart, and too beautiful, to be wasting your time with a fuckboy like Alexsei Plushenko.”

The first part you already knew. The second, from this man’s lips? Your knees nearly collapse out from under you, a flood of excitement and dread coursing through your system. You almost can’t stand it–it’s like being burned alive, and your native shyness rears with a vengeance.

You try to flee, back to the safety of your room, and your books, your imaginary lives that can’t really hurt you–but he catches your hand. His grip is not hard, but it is enough to stop you dead in your tracks.

“Y/n…” He’s pleading with you, but you don’t understand what he’s asking you.

“You said you don’t want me, John…” you say, still unable to meet his eyes. “So let me go.”

He answers by pulling you against him, the solid line of his torso a brick wall beneath the hand you raise to catch yourself. But bricks are not warm, like the flesh beneath his designer clothes. You can feel the wires in your brain sizzling, the synapses simply melting down. Your heart is Chernoble waiting to happen.

“I didn’t say that.”

“You said–”

“I said, ‘We can’t.’ Not, that ‘I don’t want you.’”

You almost cannot breathe, your heart attempting to beat out of your chest, a ringing in your ears that drowns out all else. There is nothing, nothing, in this world you’ve wanted more, than to hear those words from this man. But now that he’s standing before you, against you, holding you–you cannot move. You do not know what to do.

He solves this problem by cupping your cheek in his big hand–God, how you’ve noticed those hands–and then he is pressing his mouth to yours, gentle at first, but then…hungry. As though John Wick has been starving, for you, and it’s all you can do just to stand there and take it without melting into a puddle on the floor. His arms wrap around your back, holding you, lifting you to your tiptoes as he devours you. When at last he pulls back you are left seeing stars, struck utterly speechless with your hands on his broad shoulders.

“Tell me to stop,” he raggedly demands, his eyes boring down into yours.

Finally, you find your courage, meeting his stare. “I don’t want you to stop,” you whisper.

“Good. Because I don’t think I can.” He kisses you again, just as hungrily as the first time, his arm an iron band around your waist and his fingers sneaking up into your hair. That’s your kryptonite: your hair, and blithely you know he can do anything and everything he wants to you now.

Your father is a bad man, but you have not had a bad life. You have never known hunger, or true physical pain. He has protected you from the violence of his world. He has played things smart enough that not even the FBI can touch you, even though they absolutely know what he is and where your family gets its money. Despite all this, you have been dying inside, a slow, withering demise, until John Wick’s lips touched yours. He is the life-giving rain over the desert; your heart is a field of wildflowers erupting in a superbloom.

This time, he leads you, in between kissing you, to the loveseat at the foot of your bed. He sits, and only when he tries to pull you into his lap do you resist. “John…I’m too…much,” you insist, conscious of your generous flesh and what it would be like to set that on top of him, afraid he’ll be horrified.

However, he just scoffs at you, grabbing you up anyway and guiding you down. For a moment you are weightless–he knows how to upset a person’s balance, how to use their weight against them to put them on the floor. This time he uses it to put you on him. You’re not exactly proud of it, but the ease with which he utterly manhandles you makes your long-neglected lady parts sing with desire.

“You are perfect, dietka,” he insists, pulling you closer with hands on your round behind, “And I am very strong.” For the first time in you can’t remember how long–he smiles at you. That beautiful half smile with a sparkle in his dark eyes that takes your breath away–you love him so much it hurts.

This time you don’t feel so shy, about kissing him. You feel like your bones are filled with butterflies, and you both moan and giggle as you do your best to devour each other from the mouth down. Aside from an appreciative squeeze of your thighs bracketing his hips, he doesn’t try to seduce you, even though you know you absolutely would have given him anything he asked you for. He is content, just to kiss you, for this night at least, and oh. He’s good at it too.

You decide you would burn down the world, for one more kiss from John Wick.

Later you find yourself snuggled in your bed with John, fully clothed, your head on his shoulder as he toys with the fine hairs at the back of your neck. His touch is heaven, and with your legs twined with his it’s hard not to squirm and writhe against his muscled thigh like a horny little gremlin.

Later, you tell yourself. It can wait for later.

Like maybe, tomorrow.

“We’ll have to be careful,” he warns you. “If your father…”

If your father found out, the best thing that could happen to John is getting fired.

“I won’t let you get hurt,” you promise, kissing his bearded cheek, praying you’re telling the truth.

He chuckles at this; a deep sound you feel more than hear. “I thought that was my job?”

“You know what I mean.”

“I know.” He looks down at you with a tenderness that curls your toes. “It would be worth it, for you.”

Your heart has suddenly decided it would like to take up residence in your throat–permanently.

“Oh, John…”

He kisses you again, a soft brush of lips that renders you weightless. This is how you die: it’s almost too much to stand, this impossibly full feeling in your chest. Then he narrows his eyes at you playfully. “You have been driving me mad, you little minx. I wanted to kill everyone who so much as looked at you in the Circle.”

You snort at the thought–you do not understand, really, that he could absolutely do it too.

“Not to worry. I think the library is more my speed.” He rests his head against yours with a small, contented sigh. “Mine too,” he admits. The smell of old books around you is a soothing balm to you both.

You know small bits of his past. Morsels he has sprinkled, here and there in the conversations you have had. You know he did not have an easy childhood. You know that this life was not really his choice. Even less so than most, who move and work in the Underworld.

“If you could live anywhere in the world, where would it be?” you ask.

He lifts an eyebrow at you. “I’m liking New York, at the moment,” he tells you with an affectionate squeeze.

“Oh come on.”

“Fine. I like Paris a lot.”

“Hmm,” you answer, but what you think, is: Done. You will have the opportunity to arrange to study abroad soon, and you think a trip away from the Tarasov territory might do you both some good.

Surely Papachka wouldn’t deprive you of your most trusted bodyguard?

#john wick #john wick x reader #john wick x you #john wick x y/n #keanu reeves #keanu reeves x reader

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ryleektv · 1 month ago

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Can you write something for Lorenzo Berkshire and have it be where he love it when you wear pink? Like it’s his favorite color on you! Like one day when y’all are in his or your room and y’all are making out and then he sees you wearing a pink bra and then he checks to see if it’s a set and it is! So then it just leads to smut! If you don’t want to write this I’d understand.

AHHHHH omg the fact that i got this the SAME day i dressed up in all pink to go watch wicked is INSANE (wicked is absolutely amazing btw) like full glinda coded eyeshadow and pink eyeliner and everything. also i am sick (AGAIN, ive quite literally been sick constantly for the past 3 months bc my immune system might as well not exist)

anyways i hope this is good enough pooks

Favorite Color

(on his favorite girl)

bf!lorenzo berkshire x f!reader

WARNINGS: smut, unprotected p in v, fingering, ummm biting?, whipped Lorenzo, not proofread, lowkey not Toxic!Lorenzo??? SUMMARY: Lorenzo's favorite color was famously red. But on you? Pink all the way.

WC: 1.4k

"Hey, princess- okay then." Lorenzo stopped in the doorway, his hands up as he dodged the shoe you threw in his direction. "Why're you so pissed off, hm?"

You groaned out incoherent swears at him before flopping over onto your back, leaving you bed sheets warm where you had been. "What do you want?"

"To spend time with my beautiful sweet girlfriend and find out who pissed in her tea?" He questioned as he took a careful step forward. "What can I do, honey?"

"I don't know." You mumbled with a heavy sigh. "Don't hate me, but I don't think I wanna do date night out tonight."

Lorenzo took another few steps before sitting down at the edge of the bed, his thumb delicately brushing your cheek.

"I'd never hate you. You sure you don't want to go out? I know you love getting all dressed up to show off."

You watched him carefully as his fingers traced over your t-shirt. You'd gotten half way ready, your hair and makeup done perfectly, before you realized that not only was your dress in need to be washed, but it was pouring out, and your picnic date was a complete waste.

Lorenzo, of course, was quick to call and ask if you wanted to just go get dinner at a restaurant instead, to which you agreed. But, none of your other clothes seemed good enough, and to make matters even worse, you found out last minute that you flunked on an important Potion's exam.

"I don't even have anything to wear," You complained quietly, resting your head on his thigh and tugging the blankets back up so you'd stay warm.

He looked over at the piles of clothes thrown everywhere, but like a smart man, didn't say anything.

"Can we just stay in tonight?"

"Of course,"

"That is not realistic, I mean, who the hell stabs someone like that? And- and blood doesn't just spurt our like that unless you hit an artery." Lorenzo tutted, still tracing circles on your shoulder with the tip of his index finger. "That's just not how it works."

You looked up at him with furrowed brows, your head rested on his chest as you watched the horror movie on the screen with your boyfriend. "Why the hell do you suddenly know so much about the logics of stabbing? Should I be concerned, Enzo?"

"No, I'm just saying. There's science behind this stuff, and if the were really that interested in spending what I assume to be millions on making this movie, you'd think they would at least put a little research into it."

"You're psychotic."

"It turns you on, though." He looked down at you as he wiggled his eyebrows jokingly.

You rolled your eyes with a smile and turned back to the television and watched as the killer proceeded to drag the protagonists dead body towards the woods.

"Deny it, maybe?"

You burst out laughing and looked up at Enzo who was watching you with a mixture of concern and amusement. "Oh, baby, I'm not denying shit."

Lorenzo's brown eyes stared down at you with a sparkle you could recognize from a mile away, his lips brushing up into a smirk.

"Enzo," You whispered, fully intending to spur him on.

His lips immediately crashed to yours, his hands tugging you closer as yours went to his hair.

You let out a soft sigh, eliciting a quiet groan from Lorenzo as he seemed to try to pull you impossibly closer to him. You could feel him already touching all over you, exploring every inch of your body as if it was his first time near a woman.

Still continuing your quickly escalating make-out session, he maneuvered the two of you so he was propped up over your body, his teeth nipping at you bottom lip before his tongue met yours in a familiar dance.

His hands came back to your hair, stroking over it as you pulled at him, both of you already breathing heavily into each other's mouths, gasping in each other's air as it got hotter.

And because Lorenzo would rather die than do it himself, you gently pushed him up so the two of you could breathe properly for a moment, his wild eyes staring down into yours as he gasped for breath, his lips swollen and wet as he grinned.

"Go lock the door," You murmured, four words that drove him mad, quickly scrambling off of you and practically running to the door as he fumbled with the buttons of his shirt.

If only he'd put as much effort into his school work as he did locking the door when you'd ask.

You sat up slightly, pulling the oversized t-shirt over your head to reveal the pink lace bra you'd planned to wear for your restaurant date.

Lorenzo shuddered out a breath as his eyes dropped to the bra, lips parted slightly as his eyes softened. "Fucking hell,"

His gaze hovered over your breasts before looking up at you with a questioning whisper, "Is it?"

"Why don't you come see for yourself?" You grabbed his belt loop with your middle finger, pulling him over to you before rejoining your lips with his as he climbed back over you, smiling into the kiss as you lifted your hips to help as he slowly pulled down your shorts.

You watched as his eyes darkened at the sight of your matching pink panties, Enzo's fingers rubbing slow circles on your clit over the fabric as you let out a soft sigh of relief.

"I don't think I tell you enough how beautiful you are." He mumbled against your lips as he slowly pushed the fabric of your panties to the side and easily pushed two fingers into you.

You let out a gasping moan, pulling on his hair as he curled his fingers hard inside of you, picking up the pace as flashes of heat grew all over your body in pulses.

"Enzo- shit- fuck me, please just-" You cut off with a whimper. "Just fuck me already." You practically pleaded as your eyes welled up with tears at the pleasure of his fingers curling perfectly inside you, his thumb starting up rough circles on your clit.

Lorenzo must have been like a dog in heat tonight, because he was clearly too desperate to make you beg, instead just undoing his belt and pulling off his pants and boxers faster than you'd ever seen him before.

His tip pressed against your entrance as he rested his forehead against yours, letting out a groan as he slipped in, your back arching at the perfect fit.

"Oh, fuck, Enzo," You breathed, arms wrapping over your shoulders as he started slowly thrusting in and out of you.

He buried his face into the crook of your neck, gently biting at your flesh as he sped up. "You feel so good, princess."

Your head tipped back as you felt his fingers speeding up as they circled your clit again, making the knot in your stomach form far faster than usual.

You pressed your hips back against his, meeting it time with his thrusts and pushing him deeper inside of you as you listened to his moans pressed into your skin, your own mouth agape as you whined at the sharp tug of your skin between his teeth.

"Oh, Gods, Enzo- Enzo, I'm so fucking close." You moaned into his hair, nails digging into his tensed back as you closed your eyes, legs shaking slightly.

"C'mon, I've got you." He pulled away from your neck, kissing the corner of your mouth. "I am too."

With one more thrust you tipped over the edge, vision going blank as you gave way to the waves of please, heat coursing through your body as if your blood was replaced with lava, chest heaving as tears slipped past your waterline, rolling down your cheeks before Lorenzo gently kissed them away.

You wrapped your legs tighter around Lorenzo as he was about to pull out, interrupting his panicked glance, "I'll get a vial." You breathed, with less than a second difference before he was finishing inside of you, the both of you moaning at the feeling.

Lorenzo flopped down on top of you, wrapping his arms around your waist as his face buried in your chest. "I love you,"

You brushed back his hair with the tips of your fingers, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "I love you, too, Enzo."

i kinda hate this too but thats okay bc i wrote it was 3am and thats excuse enough

requests are open as always and i promise i am in fact still working on a slytherin boys christmas im just severely behind

#lorenzo berkshire #slytherin boys #slytherin boys x reader #enzo berkshire #lorenzo berkshire imagine #lorenzo berkshire smut

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theanimeroom · 9 months ago

Note

Hiii, one of isagi being such a cutie and respectful boyfriend BUT then in reader's birthday she wishes "world peace and being fucked by his cute bf" and then good boy isagi let her perv side out 🛐🛐🛐

yes 🫡

bf!isagi yoichi who was terrified of PDA when you two first got together. you assured him that it was fine, the two of you didn’t have to go farther than holding hands or occasional kisses whenever he felt comfortable. he still hesitated every time his fingers laced between yours though, his face turning bright red and his eyes always being unable to meet yours.

he always saw you as his little treasure, and he wanted all eyes away from you because you belong to him <3. he was used to being in the spotlight with his career, but he never wanted to drag you into it. there were probably several talks about making your relationship public, to which you didn’t mind, but isagi didn’t share the same sentiment.

he wanted you to himself, wanted to make sure that no one else even considered trying to make moves on you without having his fangirls trying to pick you apart. he’s a major homebody, believe it or not. whenever nagi or bachira would beg for him to come out he always opted to stay in the house with you, watching movies and eating candy so sweet you swore your teeth should have fallen out by now.

his love for you and natural reclusiveness only skyrocketed the day you opened your eyes to a platter being placed under your nose, the smell of fresh, crispy bacon and toast filling your sensing before you could even register what day it was.

“happy birthday!” his sweet voice was the first thing you got to hear, a sleepy smile stretching across your face. his eyes were big and filled with happiness as he watched you attempt to sit up, rubbing the rest of your fatigue away with your hands. when your breakfast was placed in front of you a small giggle broke through your yawn at the preparations. there were around 8 strips of bacon on the plate, along with scrambled eggs, a couple halves of toast and a blueberry muffin with a little candle wick placed on top. “i made your favorite.”

“did you?” you giggled, feeling your heart swell at the hopeful expression on isagi’s face. your boyfriend was always so sweet, almost sickeningly so sometimes. he was typically all forehead kisses and soft touches, like you were a porcelain doll. even in bed, he preferred making love to anything else, it made him feel like he was appreciating you for all that you were worth. you loved it of course, adored it even. it’s what made you fall in love with him in the first place, but sometimes you couldn’t help but feel like you wanted….more.

you’d seen isagi on the field. you knew the kind of stamina, passion, and drive he had when it came to crushing his opponents, you just wished that sometimes he’d come home and crush you instead.

so when your sweet, innocent, loving boyfriend told you to make a wish on the muffin candle, you didn’t even have to ponder on your wish. leaning in with shielded vision, you spoke your wish with a sly smile on your face. “i wish for world peace and to be fucked by the undeniably hot boyfriend.”

when you looked at your boyfriend, his eyes were as wide as saucers. you were his sweet girl, and he’d never even considered being even remotely rough with you because of it. but alas, there was only so much strength a man could have after hearing that slip from your lips.

and that’s exactly how you ended up here, with your ass angled in the air and your moans muffled by the fabric of your pillowcase. there was one hand pressed against the back of your head, pushing you further into the bed when his other hand held down your arm against your back. your plea’s and moans fell on deaf ears though, the only thing on isagi’s mind being the filth that he’s spewing your way.

“aww, is this what my sweet baby wished for? wanted to be treated like a little slut, huh?” he punctuated his question with a hard thrust, hips flesh against your ass.

you wailed in the pillow, but a broken response didn’t seem to be enough for the man above you. with a brash tug his fingers were in your hair, tugging until your neck was strained and your teary eyes were looking back at him. his thrusts never slowed down still hitting all the spots that’s make you twitch and see those pretty little stars in the corner of your vision. “good little whores are supposed to answer when they’re spoken to, aren’t they?”

“y-yes!!” your voice was strained, body weak from pleasure although you tried to follow his instructions. your body shuffled, trying to push back against him but only receiving a rough slap on the flesh of your ass in response. his fingers dug into the skin as he leaned down, lips grazing the shell of your ear.

the air sent a shiver down your spine, your mind only filled with thoughts of him. his voice was light, the power of his thrusts leaving you both breathless. “my baby seems to be getting a little greedy,” he chuckled, a soft grunt slipping through at the wet patch staining the pillow, a string of drool leaving his eyes rolling to the back of his head. “but since it’s your birthday, i’ll let you off the hook.”

your back arched as isagi bottomed out inside of you, hips flush against your ass, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix. you moaned, trying your hardest to fuck yourself back onto him and chase the tingling feeling that permeated your toes and fingertips. you could barely breathe with the way he was fucking you, and if you weren’t in love with he man before this, you definitely were now.

“you know i love you right, baby?” isagi asked, grinning when you frantically nodded your head. he wasn’t even sure if you’d heard what he said to you, your eyes glazed over and breathing so labored that he laced his fingers in your hair and pulled your face out of the pillow. “you still with me sweet girl?”

“uh huh,” you groaned, pushing your hips back in hopes for him to fuck you more rather than talk. with a chuckle, isagi wrapped a hand around your waist.

“good, because you won’t be in a second,” were the last words he said before forcing his cock in as far as it could go. the sounds of skin against skin reverberated around the room, combined with the broken whimpers coming from you and the occasional moan and groan from isagi.

the knot in your stomach tightened as he prodded that one spot inside of you, causing the muscles in your body tense as your body started to succumb to the pleasure.

“gonna come for me baby?” the man above you asked, landing a harsh smack against the side of your ass. a guttural moan left you at the sensation, the sight of your cunt creaming his cock only causing his pace to quicken. with another smack you were wailing out a positive response, thighs trembling as they tried to keep your body upright. “wanna feel the birthday girl come all over me, you can do that pretty, right?”

isagi didn’t have to say another word, the simple request being all you needed to let the waves of pleasure take over your body with a strangled moan. isagi let out a moan of his own at the way you squeezed around him, fingers digging into the flesh of your ass as he bottomed out, eyes rolling as ropes of come painted your inner walls.

isagi breathed heavily into your ear, the sensation tickling your skin just enough to make you shuffle underneath him.

“mmm baby,” you spoke lowly, turning your head so your face wasn’t plastered into the pillow. the male above you hummed, eyes closed in bliss as he came down from his high. it took you a second before you were able to respond, still trying your hardest to catch your breath. when you did respond though, the words slipped from you with a smile.

“can this be my birthday present every year?”

don’t plagiarize! it’s not nice <3

theanimeroom

#in honor of my birthday being last week #i wil be posting this draft that i’ve been cooking w #my writing skills have gone in the trash since my break i’m #i’m trying to get better 😭😭#not proof read either so sorry for mistakes!#blues asks 💎#blues anons 💙#blue lock smut #blue lock #isagi yoichi #isagi yoichi smut #isagi smut #isagi x reader #blue lock isagi smut

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aisiedaisie · 2 months ago

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૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა Hellooooo! My knees are lowkey quaking sending this req in considering its my first time ever but would thou be willing to write a poly!marauders x reader who is kinda like glinda from wicked? shes very bubbly, cutesy, a little bit air-headed but shes got good intentions and is OBSESSED OBSESSED with pink

no pressure though :) thank youuu ♡

Hello hello~!!!

Thank you so much for asking my dear! I am so sorry for taking so long to write this, I’ve been so busy with school. Now onto your request… I have, unfortunately, never seen Wicked so the characterization might not be the best but I hope I did your idea justice at the very least!

edit: If this isn't what you visioned let me know and I'll try again!!! ♡

Pairing: Poly!Marauders x Reader WC: 1.3k

The morning air bit at your cheeks, sharp and unforgiving, as though winter itself had woken on the wrong side of the bed. A delicate dusting of snow still clung stubbornly to the pavement, its crystalline sheen interrupted by streaks of white running through the roads. Every breath hung visibly in the air, curling away like fleeting whispers, a reminder that, yes, it was absolutely freezing.

Still, you and the boys had ventured out into the icy embrace of the day, determined to check a few errands off your list. If everything went smoothly— and time was kind —perhaps a movie would sneak its way into the itinerary. That said, the clock was ticking. Remus had an appointment with his chiropractor later in the afternoon, leaving little room for dawdling.

This time of year had always held a special kind of magic for you. The looming promise of the holidays seemed to imbue the air with a tangible warmth, even as the weather remained frosty. Everywhere you looked, there were signs of joy: twinkling lights, wreaths on doors, the hum of cheerful holiday tunes spilling from shop speakers. Your heart felt lighter, your steps quicker — something Sirius was quick to notice.

"Aren’t you a joy this morning," he remarked dryly, his voice tinged with a sleepy amusement. His silver eyes tracked the skip in your step as you bounded ahead, radiating delight. While he was undoubtedly pleased to be with you all, his enthusiasm was dampened by the biting chill and the indignity of being awake so early. His only solace came in the form of the warm paper cup nestled in his gloved hands, filled with an indulgent sugar cookie latte that promised a sweet distraction.

Remus, walking slightly behind, shot Sirius a sideways look, bumping his hip in playful admonishment. He lengthened his stride to catch up with you, his long legs easily matching your pace.

“It’s the holidays,” James chimed in from behind, his tone carrying a fond warmth as he took a sip from his significantly less sweet coffee. “You know how she gets this time of year, Pads.”

Remus chuckled softly, slipping his hand into yours as they all trailed into the grocery store. A wave of warmth wrapped around you like a cozy blanket as the automatic doors slid open, the chill left behind in favor of the comforting hum of indoor heaters and the faint, tantalizing aroma of baked goods somewhere in the distance.

“So, what’s the plan, dove?” Remus asked, his voice low and gentle as he looked down at you.

You beamed up at him, your eyes alight with excitement. “Gingerbread! I want to make gingerbread houses,” you declared. “But we’re out of cloves. Oh, and I was hoping to find some pink candies for decorating— if they have them,” you added, your voice softening with a hint of doubt.

It was no secret that pink candies were elusive this time of year, overshadowed by the dominating reds and greens of the season. Though festive and lovely, they weren’t quite what you had in mind.

Sirius arched a brow, his lips quirking into a faintly crooked smile. “Why not just make them pink?”

You turned to him, tilting your head in curiosity. “Make them pink?”

“Yeah,” he drawled, his tone laced with the sort of lazy confidence only Sirius could pull off. “There’s gotta be a way to make ‘em pink, doll.”

His smile, faintly lopsided and utterly disarming, made warmth bloom in your chest despite the lingering cold in your fingers.

James, ever the problem solver, had already begun to drift through the aisles, scanning for a solution. Meanwhile, Remus fetched a basket with the efficiency of a man well-versed in grocery runs, returning just in time to catch you gathering flour, cinnamon, and nutmeg from the shelves.

“Powdered sugar, right, doll?” Sirius asked, holding up a box as if he’d just unearthed buried treasure.

You grinned, nodding appreciatively. But then your eyes landed on a pack of white chocolate chips, sparking an idea. “I mean... I could make it pink with food colori—”

“They’ve got Valentines candy in the back,” James interrupted, his voice triumphant as he reappeared, his hands planted firmly on his hips. He stood beaming like he’d solved a riddle no one else could crack.

“Really?!” you squealed, your face lighting up with glee.

James grinned even wider, looking thoroughly pleased with himself. “Yep. I’ll grab them for you.”

And just like that, your holiday vision began to take shape, piece by piece. Soon, a pink gingerbread house— complete with frosted edges and delicate decorations— would join the charming little pink tree that had claimed its spot on the living room table.

The thought filled you with a bubbling excitement, your mind already spinning with ideas of how to make your cozy holiday corner even more magical.

It wasn’t just the decorations that made it special, though; it was the way the boys indulged your whims, no matter how outlandish they seemed.

You could already picture Sirius, half-heartedly pretending to grumble as frosting stuck to his fingers, and James concentrating far too hard on piping perfect windows while sneakily eating candies when he thought no one was looking. Remus would undoubtedly take charge of assembling the house itself, his patient hands steady as he held the walls together, teasing you all for your lack of structural integrity.

“Dove?” Remus’s voice broke through your thoughts, grounding you back in the warmth of the grocery store. His amber eyes crinkled with affection as he tilted his head. “You’re smiling like you’ve just won the lottery.”

“Maybe she has,” Sirius quipped, picking up a box of candy canes and twirling one in his fingers. “After all, we found her pink candies. What more could she ask for?”

You laughed softly, stepping closer to him and plucking the candy cane from his hand with a playful grin. “Oh, don’t tempt me. I could think of plenty more.”

“Careful, Pads,” James teased, rejoining the group with his arms full of your prized pink candy melts. “You’ll end up promising her a pink Christmas tree for the kitchen next.”

“Oh, don’t give her ideas,” Sirius groaned, but his dramatic tone couldn’t mask the twinkle in his eyes.

“You’re all terrible,” you said, though the fondness in your voice betrayed you. Your arms brushed Remus’s as you added the last few ingredients to the basket, imagining the laughter and chaos that would follow once you all returned home.

Outside, snowflakes began to drift lazily from the overcast sky, blanketing the world in a soft white glow. It felt like a scene from one of those holiday movies you loved, and you couldn’t help but squeeze Remus’s hand in anticipation.

“Let’s make it quick,” he said gently, though the soft curve of his smile made it clear he wasn’t in any rush. “I think someone’s eager to get started.”

“I guess the movie theater has been pushed off the priority list,” James joked as he followed close behind, balancing bags of groceries in both hands.

“Next time, Jamie~” you sang over your shoulder, your voice light and teasing as you swung yours and Remus’s joined hands in time with the familiar Christmas tune floating from the store’s speakers. The melody seemed to follow you into the frosty morning, adding a cheerful soundtrack to your little procession.

Sirius snorted, his laughter a warm, rich sound that carried over the crisp air. “You’re such a menace when you’re in holiday mode, doll,” he teased, though his grin betrayed his fondness.

James shook his head with a mock exasperation, his lips twitching into a smile as he glanced at the lot of you. “You’re lucky we love you,” he muttered, though his tone was filled with amusement.

The four of you walked down the snowy street together, your breath hanging in the air and your steps crunching against the thin layer of powder beneath your dark pink boots.

Between Sirius’s sarcastic commentary, Remus’s steady warmth at your side, and James’s easy laughter, you could already feel the festive chaos brewing.

It was perfect.

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femmeroll · 2 months ago

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✦•·················• 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐳 •·················•✦

abby anderson x fem reader | wicked au | part ii

i hope you guys enjoy the second part!! i’ve been listening to the soundtrack on repeat for days :) this chapter contains smut, so have fun fellow sluts for abby <3

it’s been a few weeks since that night. the night where you came home from the ozdust and kissed abby on the cheek. like it was no big deal.

it’s a big deal to abby, though. a huge deal.

during her ozian literature class, she daydreams about kissing you for real instead of reading her chapters.

she can’t get through eating her lunch with you in the dining hall without staring at your lips at you eat. the way your glossed lips wrap around your fork makes abby red in the face.

it’s a lot for abby to handle. you, her overly friendly, sweet, beautiful roommate will not get the fuck out of her head. it’s exhausting.

one late night, abby finds you in the dorm. on the floor. flash cards spread all over the place. you look stressed, eyebrows pinched, lips in a pout.

“hey, abs. sorry about the mess, i’m almost done.”

“no, it’s alright. what are you studying for?”

you groan. cute.

“psychology of the wicked. i’ve been studying since you left for the gym like, three hours ago.”

you’re so stressed. the class is tiring, the content is overbearing, and you’ve staring at your stupid notecards for what feels like years.

“hey, you’re okay. you study too hard. why don’t you take a break?”

something about seeing you so stressed out and upset triggers something in abby. a need to help. a need to make you feel better. to feel good.

you look up at her from the floor, eyes sad, pout still present.

“i do need a break…” you sigh. “maybe we could watch a movie? i have a DVD player.”

abby smiles. you’re just so cute, it’s literally eating her alive.

you pick out some cheesy movie about the wizard and his life, one abby has seen a million times. she doesn’t care how lame it is, or how she knows every detail about it. she gets to watch it with you.

“the wizard is so cool. i’d love to meet him someday. ask him questions and stuff.”

“yeah? if anyone deserves that chance, it’s you. you’re gonna be a great sorcerer one day.”

you blush. abby makes you blush often. when she gives you a big toothy grin, you blush. when she comes back from the gym, her muscles even more defined then usual, you blush. when you sit next to her and your knees touch, you blush.

“you will be too, abs. you impress me so much, you have no idea.”

it’s now abby’s turn to blush. but she already knows how much you affect her.

“abby. could i ask you a question? it’s a bit embarrassifying.”

abby raises an eyebrow. “yeah?”

“did you get uncomfortable when i kissed you on the cheek a couple weeks ago? i didn’t mean to upset you, if it did.”

abby’s mouth falls open.

“you…you never make me uncomfortable. you just flustered me.”

“i made you flustered?”

abby gazes at her lap. “yeah,” she replies shortly.

you don’t respond. you just…stare at her.

“you’re a really pretty girl, y/n. i’m sure you fluster people all the time.”

“oh.”

abby plays with her fingers, eyes never leaving her lap. “sorry, that’s probably weird. just forget i said-”

you cut her off with a kiss. and dear oz, abby could die right there and now. you’re kissing her. you’re kissing her.

this kiss is gentle, and a bit hesitant. you don’t know how she’ll react, not entirely sure if she really into it.

what you didn’t expect was for her to grab your hips and pull you into her lap. she’s kissing you back so desperately, so hungrily. like you’ll disappear if your lips are apart from hers for more than a second.

you whine when she starts kissing down your jaw, gripping her biceps to ground yourself. you’ve never felt like this in your life. what is this feeling? you don’t know, but it’s sudden, new, and very welcomed.

her hands trail under your skirt, feeling your soft skin under her calloused palms. “can i take your top off?”

you go a bit red, but nod. you want abby to see you. you want to do whatever she asks. right now, you have complete tunnel vision.

abby pulls your shirt off, groaning at the sight of you clad in your cute, lacy bra.

“you’re so fucking pretty, baby. can’t even stand it.”

she kisses down your neck, sucking a hickey into your chest. she feels like she’s gonna explode. she can’t believe she gets to do this. to have you like this.

your hips subconsciously buck into hers, getting incredibly needy and very flustered.

and abby loves it. she’s making you feel good, and that’s all she could ever want. she starts toying with your panties under your skirt, silently asking if she can take them off.

“yes, abs. please take them off” you whine. you need her.

she pulls them down with a smirk, relishing in the fact that you’re just so cute. even like this, you’re still so soft, so pure. it makes her heart swell and her clit throb.

abby gentle lays you on your back, positioning herself between your legs. you skirt flips up, exposing your bottom half to her.

“abby…please touch me. i need it.”

abby fucking growls. you need her. and she needs you.

her thumb meets your clit, rubbing gentle circles. you grab onto her back with a whimper, hips twitching at the feeling.

“fuck…you’re so wet, sweetie. so wet and ready for me, huh?”

you nod mindlessly. you don’t even know what she’s saying. all you can focus on is her fingers on you.

“you want me inside, yeah? you gotta say it, use your words” abby teases. “i’ll give you what you need, just gotta say it, sweet girl. c’mon.”

“yes, abby. inside. please” you whine.

abby’s brain is melting. she slowly pushes one of her thick fingers inside you, moaning at how you feel around her. wishing she had a dick so she could feel you clenching around her for real.

“so tight…holy shit. sucking me in, baby.”

it’s just one finger, but she’s filling your cunt so good. it’s like your pussy was hand crafted to take her, she’s the missing puzzle piece that needs to fit inside.

it’s almost embarrassing how sensitive you are. how badly you want to cum on her hand. you try to hold it, but you feel so full and abby is so pretty and everything is just so right.

“can i cum? please abs, can i?” you whimper, squirming under her touch.

abby moans herself, practically drooling at how effortlessly sexy you are.

“yes baby, please cum for me.”

her pace never falters, and she helps you ride out your orgasm until your legs start subtlety shaking. she slowly pulls out, rubbing gentle circles into your hip to ease the uncomfortable feeling.

after a few moments, abby finally breaks the silence.

“i hope this isn’t a one-time-thing. i really like you, like a lot, y/n.”

you nuzzle into abby’s chest, tracing her sides. “i really like you more, abs.”

abby kisses the top of your head as you drift into sleep.

whatever the opposite of loathing is, that’s what she’s feeling.

maybe, love?

i fear i wrote the end of this drunk, hopefully it doesn’t show! thank you all for the love <3 i have been changed for good! 🤍

#abby anderson x reader #abby the last of us #abby tlou #abby x reader #abby anderson #abby anderson smut #abby x fem!reader #the last of us #tlou

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thesassypadawan · 3 months ago

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Witchy Woman (A.J. x GFReader)

Summary: After playing a rather nasty trick on you at the beginning of spooky season. You’ve been slowly taking out your revenge on J by constantly teasing, never letting him have the treat he wants so badly. Maybe he should learn how to beg a little better or to not piss off a witchy woman.

Warnings: 18+ (mdni), because there’s sooo much of the smut. Begging, edging, riding, bullying from a smexy witch cop, mockery of a hat, and… A.J.’s big, fat dick.

Notes: Happy Kinktober all you, lovelies! 🖤🧡

🎉A VERY HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY TO @everydaydreamer🎉

- ‘Woo-hoo, witchy woman… See how high she flies…’

- The familiar tune filtered out from the speaker. Playing softly, filling your apartment with its bewitching tune. Setting the perfect mood for a cozy, sinfully good Halloween night in. Watching movies, passing out candy, indulging in other sweet treats. At least, that’s what your handsome devil hopes for…

- Bracing your palms on his firm chest; fingers gently knead, manicured nails lightly scratch at each inked pec. “Fuck, sweetheart; killin’ me.” You lift yourself off of him a few torturous inches; reveling in the way he grunts, squirms beneath. “Been a month.” Brow knitted in frustration, teeth gritted. “Don’t…don’t make me beg.”

- “Almost.” Before slowly sinking down, pushing his generous length deep inside you once more. “It’s been almost a month.” Breathy sigh escaping while you savor the stretch, the ache, the delectable sensation of being full of him. “And you should, after that nasty trick you played on me.”

- Keeping your pace controlled, lazy. You clench your walls around him as you rise, swiveling your hips as you descend once more. “Said…shit-” Causing A.J. to let out a low hiss; hands twitching uselessly above his head, wrists bound and held in place by a pair of dime store cuffs. “Said I was sorry.”

- With a wicked little laugh, you push him deep inside your heat. “That’s…mmmh… That’s not good enough.” Leaning forward ghosting your lips over his. “You’re going to have to try harder than that.”

- Pulling back, palms trailing lower; following, tracing the lines of his body. “Beg.” Come to rest on his toned thighs, squeezing the sinewy muscles. “Behave.”

- Before dragging his cock in and out. “Let me use you for my own fun.” Thrusts slow, deliberately shallow so that he can watch himself disappear. How your pussy hungrily, greedily takes and swallows him up every time. “Then maybe I’ll consider ending that dry spell of yours…give you a nice treat.”

- “Dammit, fine…FINE!” There it was, the last shreds of his stubborn pride gone. “Please.” Those simple, magic words that you have been waiting to hear. “PLEASE!” Coming from such a cunning, smooth man. Makes a certain kind of warmth spread in your chest, to other extremities.

- “Getting there.” Sticking two fingers in his mouth; swirling, moistening them on his tongue. “But you can do better.” Removing each with a wet sounding pop; bringing them to, rubbing your clit.

- Tilting your head to the side, nibbling your bottom. “Why don’t you try again.” Rolling, pinching the sensitive bud. Moaning and cooing in way that drives him crazy, gets that monster of his really twitching. “With more feeling, baaaaby.”

- “Fuck…fuck!” He groans frustratedly; tugging at his restraints, coffee table scraping gently on the floor. “Please…so-sorry!” While his hips buck weakly, impatiently; undoubtedly seeking out more friction, more stimulation. “Promise, won’t-”

- “Uh-uh, that’s not how you do it.” You scold; pausing your motions, clamping down. “You could give it another go.” Running a slick covered thumb across his bottom lip. Spreading, coating it; only allowing him a small taste of your sweet essence. “But-”

- A growl mixed with a grunt floats out from under you. “But…but what?!” Trying to thrust up again, pulling harder to free himself. “Dammit, doll, lemme fuck ya already!” Blue eyes blown wide, wild look in them; cheeks flush, skin glistening from his sweat. “I’m blue!” Blond hair tousled and free.

- Grinding against his pelvis, rocking slightly faster. Allowing his fat head to barely brush that toe-curling spot. Hell fire starts to pool in your stomach, thighs begin to quiver and burn. “But-” Gaze wanders to the clock hanging above the mantle briefly, then back to his bootifully ruined face. Watching him writhe, feeling his whole body practically throb. “You’re out of time…conjugal visit is over.”

- Abruptly you pull off him. Adjusting your badge printed panties, straightening the navy skirt of your costume. Placing your police cap on your head, acting like you weren’t even fazed or still so riled up. Ignoring the slew of swears and hollow threats… “Fuckin’ witch! Get back on this dick!” …as you slip on the tight-fitting cock ring, kiss his blood red tip.

- “That’s Officer Witch,” you hum, unlocking his cuffs. “Now, I suggest you think about what you did…how to properly apologize while serving candy duty.” Showing off your just out of reach cleavage. “Oh, and I wouldn’t put that hat back on if I were you…unless you want me to tack on some extra days to your sentence.” Enjoying the sight of A.J. rubbing his wrists and balls a tad too much.

- And even more so as he shifts uncomfortably from side to side, neck straining ever so slightly. The forced smile he gives every ghost and goblin that approach your door. The constant muttering, complaining under his breath about the churning and the ache. “Sure you’re not a witch, sweetheart?”

- ‘Woo-hoo, witchy woman… She got the moon in her eye…’

Tag List: @espinathena-17, @myheartwillgoon2022, @laylaplease, @princessswifie, @kenobiskywalker16, @loverforoldermen, @lotte08, @rafeswifeyy2, @exsamlockwood-kate, @sythethecarrot, @decaffeinatedunicorn, @fuckmyskywalker, @everydaydreamer, @jediavengers, @anisangeldust, @fredswrite, @xhunnybeeex, @vaderswifey

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turtletaubwrites · 2 months ago

Text

Numbers Game ~ Chapter 35

Lady Luck by My Side

Pairings: Cross Guild Polycule x Shanks x Fem!Reader x ???

Numbers Game Masterlist

Word Count: 10.2k+

Ao3 Link

Ongoing Series Playlist: Youtube Music Link | Youtube Link

Chapter Tunes: Luck Be a Lady (Dezio Rezio) ~ The Atomic Beat Ranchers | Feel So Numb ~ Rob Zombie

Summary: Buggy deals with your heavy words, while Crocodile and Mihawk fight for you in their own, desperate ways. You are making the best of your situation, and if you could avoid your uncle's wicked words, you might even end up enjoying yourself. If you're lucky, of course.

Ch. 34 Recap: I've decided to put the recap directly below the cut in case anyone sees this post before getting to the last chapter. It's a bit more detailed than usual, and I vehemently detest spoilers. I refuse to watch trailers for movies I plan to watch 😂 I don't even like writing summaries, so I keep them vague. Hope you don't mind!

Author's Note: I have missed y'all so very much, I can't begin to describe 😭💜 I won't get into my disappearing act here, but I'll share some details below the chapter if you're interested, and I'll probably make a life update post about it later. Now that I finally have the time, energy, and health, to write again, I just want to write Numbers Game!

Dark Content Warning: Dark Content is bracketed with ~~~⚫️⚫️⚫️~~~ and summaries are bracketed with ~⚫️~SUMMARY~⚫️~ directly below the scenes, so that you won’t miss the story if you need to not be in the BIG FEELS of the scenes. Please take care of yourself, you are not alone! 💜

~ 1st ⚫ ~ PLEASE DO NOT READ this section if severe mental illness, episodes, treatment, or neglect could be triggering for you.

~ 2nd ⚫ ~ PLEASE DO NOT READ this section if mental illness treatment, doctors, or panic attacks, might be triggering for you.

Also, I hope everyone remembers the tag/warning: Cross Guild Boys are VILLAINS. It’s been there since day one, so 🤷‍♀️

Alternate POV Symbols:

!!! SPOILER WARNING !!! Fic currently contains spoilers for up to chapter 1064 or episode 1093. As we get further into Egghead Arc where our lovely boys are showing up more, there will be more spoilers as time goes on. Sorry y'all, I'm trying to keep most spoilers small details, but Cross Guild is endgame, lol.

Rating/Warnings: Author May Choose to Exclude some Warnings to Avoid Spoilers for Certain Chapters, Explicit Sexual Content, 18+ ONLY, MDNI, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, Use of Y/N, Dark Content, Blood & Violence, PTSD, Panic Attacks, Dissociation, Mental Illness, Grief, Hospitals, Doctors, Mental Health Treatment, Toxic Family, Childhood Trauma, Swearing, Alcohol, Cigars, Smut, Fluff, Angst, Guilt, Drama, Jealousy, Manipulation, Pet Names, Power Imbalance, Cross Guild boys are VILLAINS, Possessive Behavior, Teasing, Threats, Relationship Drama, Inappropriate Use of Akuma no Mi | Devil Fruit Powers, Shameless Shameless Smut, Uncle Cedrick Has Become His Own Warning, Death of an Unnamed Character, Other Additional Tags to Be Added

Chapter 34 Recap: You struggled with your varied feelings for the hunters that fought for the chance to be your owner, surprised that you didn't hate them all. You discovered that Fukaboshi was a truly good man who knew that you'd be sending him away soon, and that Katakuri was far sweeter than he looked.

Mihawk discovered that his little rabbit's plight was being broadcast beyond the Oak Roots Estate, and his rage made him dirty his blade.

Former member's of Baroque Works, Zala and Marianne, reported back from Dr. Vorsan's asylum. Buggy fought against it at first, but Crocodile begged to watch the encrypted recordings they had found so that he could help his sweet girl. He saw her at fifteen years old, being restrained and drugged in that asylum after her father passed, and he demanded to see the next recording.

You lied to your sister about your feelings toward the Cross Guild, telling her that they were monsters, and you never wanted to see them again. You wanted to make her happy, so you'd keep up your smile, just like you had for your dad when you were little. You would pretend for her.

Chapter 35 ~ Lady Luck by My Side

~~~🐊🐊🐊~~~

Had it been hours? Years since he’d started watching?

There was nothing but the tears in her eyes, nothing but the futile sobs he could do nothing to stop.

‘Let me see my sister!’

‘Sweetie, you’re not ready yet. You need to get well first.’

~~~⚫⚫⚫~~~

‘I’m not sick, mom,’ his sweet girl begged, strapped to a table while her mother stood too far back to comfort her. ‘Just let me see Kitty, please. I need to see her. ‘

‘You need to focus on getting better,’ Delaine’s voice shifted, expertly condescending with a loving tone.

Crocodile did not fucking like this woman.

‘Sweetie, do you remember what happened? Do you remember what you did,’ Delaine prodded. Y/N’s face crumpled, sobbing while her worthless mother stood in silence.

‘It was an accident,” the fifteen-year-old girl pleaded while she struggled against her restraints.

‘I found you with that snail, Y/N, and I’m certain you would have killed the poor thing if I hadn’t found you when I did,’ Delaine scolded. Crocodile was going to gut this bitch for making her daughter cry like this. ‘I’m just grateful that it was me, I can’t imagine how your... It’s not your fault, of course. Arbo was always selfish, and now he’s made you sick. I’m sorry, honey, but it’s just not safe for Kathryn to be around you until you get well.’

‘Please, mom. Please listen to me,’ she whimpered, her body going weak, trembling.

‘Just listen to the doctor, alright? I know you don’t want to hurt anyone, but you’re sick, honey. You need to— ‘

‘I need you to fucking LISTEN!’

Delaine froze for a moment before turning away, heading toward the door. She walked closer to the cam-snail on her way out, and her eyes looked way too fucking dry.

Crocodile’s rage-filled thoughts were swept away by that young girl’s screams.

‘Mom, please, don’t leave me! Don’t let them— ‘

~~~⚫️⚫️⚫️~~~

~~~

~⚫️~SUMMARY~⚫️~

The scene above is from Crocodile’s POV while he watched a recording of the reader in the asylum when she was fifteen.

Her mother, Delaine, was present, and the reader stated that she wasn’t sick, and begged to see her little sister.

Delaine replied that it wasn’t safe for Kathryn to see her until she was well again and asked if the reader recalled what she did to the snail. The reader said that it was an accident, and asked Delaine to listen.

Delaine stated that she thought the reader would have killed the snail if Delaine hadn’t found her in time, and blamed Arbo’s selfishness for making the reader sick. She denied the reader's request again.

The reader yelled for her mother to listen, however, Delaine walked out, and Crocodile felt rage for how dry her eyes were. The reader screamed for her mother not to leave her, not to let them– (the last line cut off).

~⚫️~SUMMARY~⚫️~

~~~

Y/N’s cries were cut short, the image of her teary face going blurry before the transmission cut out completely.

Crocodile had already destroyed all the furniture, so he crawled through the debris toward the smaller snail, answering the call before he had time to make it.

“Sir— “

“Finish the recording,” he threatened. “It wasn’t done, send it again.”

“The white snail passed out, sir,” Zala reported, her voice shaking almost as much as his fist. “I think that was too much for it all at once. It needs time to recover before we can send any more encrypted data.”

Crocodile could hear his teeth grinding together, but he kept still enough to speak a few words.

“Make sure it’s ready tomorrow.”

~~~🐊🐊🐊~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🤡🤡🤡~~~

Buggy felt somehow empty, and too full at the same time. His mind was too full of those vicious words his star had hissed, too full of fear and guilt over what to do about them.

“Secrets keep fucking shit up,” the clown murmured, pacing again.

It was just a lie. Star was lying to her sister.

It had been some damn good acting though, and Buggy hated the doubts it stirred in him. He couldn’t stuff them down.

I know she loves me, but could she really hate them? I could have sworn she…

Why ya gotta be such a good actor, baby?

Or maybe I’m just the selfish piece of shit that didn’t listen. I was too fucking distracted by that shithead. I wasn’t paying attention to you, Star, I just—

He gave a light yelp when the snail interrupted the constant beat of her heart, grateful to be distracted now while he floated toward Crocodile’s desk.

“Howdy,” Buggy coughed, perking up at the low chuckle that greeted him.

“Hello, little clown.”

“What’s up, crybaby?”

Mihawk’s voice sent chills across his skin, but all the clown could think about were those hateful words.

Murderers.

Monsters.

“Is that Crocodile,” the swordsman asked after a particularly loud crash echoed down the hall. “I have some news to report.”

“He’s watching…”

“Is he watching the feed?”

Now Mihawk’s voice chilled his blood.

“What feed?”

“I’m handling it,” his new lover tried and failed to soothe him. “Why don’t you two call me in the morning? I need to find a new room for the night anyway.”

“Why do you need— “

“How is she?”

Mihawk’s voice cracked just a bit, his desperation pushing through the relaxed front he’d clearly been holding up.

“Same. Finally sleeping,” Buggy rasped, clenching his eyes shut at the spike of a headache. “I’m gonna read my notes again, I think she said something… Crocodile might have something too, so we’ll call you tomorrow.”

…

“Mihawk?”

“You’ll tell me if she’s being hurt?”

“Yeah, I said I would.”

“And you’ll call me if she says she doesn’t want to be there? I don’t care if she whispers it in her sleep, Buggy, I’ll get her out. If she gives even the slightest opening, you’ll call me?”

…

“Bug— “

“Of course I will,” Buggy promised. It wasn’t a lie.

“Thank you. Get some rest, little clown.”

“You too, crybaby.”

Buggy stared blankly at the snail after the call until the near constant crashing and yelling down the corridor got louder. And closer.

His feet followed as fast as they could, but the rest of him charged into the banquet hall in time to see the terrifying sight of Sir Crocodile’s rage. The door to the conference room had been ripped off its hinges, and Buggy was caught in the other doorway, the urge to run held back only by the horror of what that frightening man might have seen.

Star…

Crocodile was alternating between smashing through tables and chairs with his hook, and draining them with his hand, leaving waves of splinters and sand to spill across the gleaming floor.

Until he made it to the head table.

“Hey boss, you really gonna wreck the best table in this shithole?”

Buggy had floated his upper body slightly above the other man’s head. He wasn’t stupid enough to put himself in between Crocodile and his fury, no matter how many memories that table held.

The clown almost fell from the air when those frantic, silver eyes met his.

“Is she still crying?”

“N-no… She’s sleeping.”

Crocodile fell to his knees, the tears on his scarred face slow and unsteady, as though they’d never traveled there before. Buggy brought himself together and did what he knew had to be a stupid thing.

He hugged the raging man, embracing this villain that had destroyed so much.

“I can’t… can’t leave her there, Buggy,” Crocodile panted into the crook of his neck. He nearly brought the clown to the floor with the amount of weight he rested on him.

“Don’t worry,” Buggy strained through his hold, “we’ve got her.”

The larger man crushed him against his chest, sucking down his tears before he started to offer comfort instead of taking it. Buggy made a show of accepting that comfort, knowing that he’d never be a better actor than his shining star.

Can’t tell ‘em. Can’t risk it.

The image of Crocodile and Mihawk collapsing in defeat at the party after Y/N had thrown her cruel words burned through his mind.

I know you’re lying, baby. You’re just a good actor.

Don’t wanna distract these idiots. They don’t know you like I do.

He tried to let go of his guilt, but those words played on a loop.

‘I don’t ever want to see those murderers— those monsters again.’

It wasn’t true.

It was a lie.

Buggy knew it was a lie.

It was a lie. Right, baby?

~~~🤡🤡🤡~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

The other men pushed and shoved each other when the scavenger hunt began, but Shanks had to hold himself back from the race. This one wouldn’t win him another date, and close contact with the other suitors had been pushing his self-control to its limit.

He’d always been able to let insults slide when it came to himself, when it was only words, but Shanks couldn’t recall this suffocating feeling.

This entire hunt was an insult, a torture made just for Y/N, and everyone here was having a lovely time using her.

Shanks could feel himself about to snap, and only his surety that it wouldn’t help her stayed his hand.

She couldn’t show her own rage, and it would be stupid and selfish to show his.

So, the red haired pirate sat this hunt out, staring at the old man that had weaseled his way beside her.

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

What was the theme today? Creating love? Finding my heart? Uncle really should have hired a showrunner for this shit.

By gods, you were bored. And having “Gibby” at your side was only making your condition worse.

“These young bucks sure do like to show off,” he teased, leaning his bony shoulder against yours, the scent of whiskey nearly knocking you out. “But I know what a sharp girl like you craves.”

“And what’s that, Gibby,” you flirted.

It would be so easy to kill him, wouldn’t it? Just a good punch to the throat would probably end this old man. But that would be it. So many eyes… He’s not worth it.

“A challenge of course,” he announced as though revealing a delightful trick. “You want to use your talents. All these little boys want is a little wife.”

“Oh,” you arched a brow, “and what do you want?”

The creep pinched your cheek. Even with your renewed determination, pretending was fucking rough.

“I want Lady Luck by my side, of course.”

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🗡️🗡️🗡️~~~

How many… Do lives or liters of blood count for more? Those lives are nothing but—

“Mihawk?”

“I’m here.”

Crocodile’s voice was off. If not for his trained sense of hearing, Mihawk would have believed that voice belonged to someone else.

But it was him. His daddy. His brutal business partner that was too sweet on their former victims.

“You go first, crybaby,” Buggy threatened, bringing a tiny smile to the swordsman’s lips.

“Sylvad’s little game has an illegal broadcast,” Mihawk shared lightly, pretending it was fine. “Underground gambling rings are holding showings every night for an impressive fee. The show appears to be isolated to the surrounding island kingdoms, but that’s probably wishful thinking.”

The silence was torturous for them all, holding nothing but impotent rage.

Mihawk stretched his neck, removing his hat to keep it from scraping against the dusty walls. He’d found a lovely, little shed to lie in wait in until his prey were all lined up.

“I’ll be attending a showing tonight, so I should be able to watch the hunt. I’ll study the layout, and hopefully I’ll see something that you aren’t able to hear.”

“So, we’re all spying on her now,” Buggy sighed. The sound was so animated; Mihawk could see those shoulders slumping in his mind.

He didn’t know when he’d gotten so used to these men in his life.

“Wait,” he interrupted his own thoughts. “Crocodile, if you weren’t watching the feed last night, what were you watching?”

“He can’t tell us,” Buggy said, his voice gentle, but pained. “Recordings of Y/N at the asylum. Croc’s poky, lady agent, and the scary, little girl nicked them for us. “

Mihawk’s blood froze in his veins as the memory of her flashed in his mind. His rabbit had looked so beautiful that last day. Beautiful, but wrong.

“Crocodile?”

…

“Can you tell us anything yet, boss? Daddy?”

“Just a kill list,” Crocodile rasped, and Mihawk realized what that tone in his voice was.

Despair.

“I haven’t finished watching yet. Just waiting on the snail. She wouldn't want me to hurt the snail…”

“Okie dokie,” Buggy loudly redirected, the sound of awkward pats coming through. “Star said something to her sister when she was crying last night. I think Asshole Charmer was right, she’s trying to protect Kat from something.”

“What did— “

“She said, ‘I left you,” Buggy rushed before either man finished asking, the strain in his voice ramping up. “Then she lied again. Told Kat she wanted to be there.”

“They wouldn’t let her see her sister,” Crocodile breathed, a distance in his words that had nothing to do with the ocean between them.

“So, we have to find out what Kathryn Sylvad needs protection from,” the swordsman hummed. “When our little rabbit showed us her fangs, she mentioned the Celestial— “

“Kat said Uncle LimpDick can’t sell her anymore though. She’s too old for those creeps.”

“But Y/N didn’t know that until she got to the estate. If that’s why she left, then we can—”

Hope had crept into Crocodile’s voice, and it was almost more painful to hear, especially when it was killed so quickly.

“She could have gotten out with the merman yesterday,” Buggy reminded him, his usual frustration seeming muted. Anger was still present, but it was wrapped up in softer, sadder things while he caught Mihawk up on the prince’s offer. “Star’s acting like a fucking martyr.”

“It’s gotta be the doctor. Sylvad said something about the fucking doctor before she left us,” Crocodile trailed off, leaving them all to sink into the memory of that night. “That’s who she fears.”

“Then that’s who dies first.”

That dusty, little shed became a cage, the monster within him nearly tearing through it at the thought of blood.

“Wait,” his clown commanded.

He obeyed.

“You can’t just run in there and kill everyone on your own now. You have to protect both of them. We need a plan.”

This silence was full of caution, but it held the taste of possibilities.

The swordsman wanted to sever his own tongue for dashing that new hope so soon.

“We can’t force them. If her sister wants to keep that stifled life, then Y/N won’t forgive us for ripping her from it.”

Mihawk sighed, remembering the rage on his darling’s face so clearly. It might be the only face of hers that he’d be worthy of seeing again.

“So, I’m still our last resort. I’ll take her hate for you, Buggy.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Buggy groaned. “We know more than we did before, so we just need to keep looking. We’re gonna get her back. You got that, shitheads?”

How strange to recognize the sound of a hug. Buggy’s little hum of surprise, followed by a soft sigh that had to be from Crocodile’s lips, hit Mihawk with a wave of heat. The sensation built up in his throat until he shook it off.

Y/N wouldn't be the only thing he’d lose if he stole her away. The World’s Greatest Swordsman would lose this strange, little home he’d found with this strange, little guild.

“You got it, boss,” Mihawk teased.

“Shut up.”

“Whatever you say, Mr. President,” Crocodile joined in.

The swordsman smiled in that dusty shed, pretending for a moment that this strange, little home he’d found would still be his.

~~~🗡️🗡️🗡️~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

Giberson never shut the fuck up, so you hadn’t caught most of the scavenger hunt, but soon enough, Uncle Cedrick was announcing the winner.

“There are no rules against hunters helping each other win,” he teased while the Vinsmoke brothers walked toward you. Ichiji was carrying a large wooden heart, a few missing pieces of the puzzle held in the losers’ hands, but he held the most.

Apparently, the younger brothers had given their pieces to the oldest prince, flanking him as they all knelt before you.

“I’m looking forward to showering you with many more gifts,” he smirked, smoothing his fingers over yours when he placed that wooden heart in your lap. “Gifts worthy of a princess.”

Cheesy. Cocky. His brothers’ lecherous stares weren’t helping.

But I might as well enjoy it, you thought, gifting him with a coy smile.

~~~

This opulent room had always been too ridiculously large to be the family game room, especially since you’d only play with your dad, or your sister, never both. Dad always had some work to take care of when Kat asked to play, and Mom never liked board games.

At least someone’s still playing games in here.

“Come here, sugar,” Giberson pulled you along, looking healthier than you’d seen him so far. “You ever played Blackjack?”

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~⏰🐊🐊🐊⏰~~~

“Hit me.”

“Is that an order, sir?”

Crocodile chuckled, feeling loose for a rare moment while he smirked at the woman across the table. Rain Dinners was as vibrant as ever, a stolen oasis that he planned to grow. The casino pulsed with greed, but a quiet air seemed to fall over the two of them.

“No orders at the table, sweetheart. You know that.”

Fuck.

This woman’s silence always held an itching weight, that little smile making him narrow his eyes. He was the one that had slipped up. No time for that.

Not until his work was done.

“Hm, it looks like a bust for both of us, sir. I hope your orders don’t land us in a similar position,” she taunted in that airy voice of hers, as though her thoughts were merely floating through space, drifting by with no fault of her own. Yet her eyes sparkled.

Crocodile ignored how much he liked it when they did that.

“Have a little faith, Miss All Sunday,” he grinned, the noise of the casino drowned out by her soft chuckle, her haunted eyes filling with a hard edge, a challenge. “Don’t you trust me? We’re gonna build a better world together.”

Her soft chuckle turned to outright laughter, the pretty sound bringing more eyes to their elevated table. That beautiful face tilted back, and the brim of her white hat shifted enough to let the glittering lights touch her skin.

He paused to watch her, knowing that he was distracted. Knowing that she was an agent, that he couldn’t risk losing his balance until he’d met his goal.

This girl is nothing but an asset. That’s all anyone is until I’m done.

“Come, Crocodile, you and I both know that trust can be a fatal mistake. I know you didn’t bring me here for false promises, and I would leave if I thought you’d become such a sentimental fool.”

Soft hands sprouted from the table before him, lighting his cigar, and holding it to his lips while he gave a few gentle puffs. Those taunting eyes never strayed from his.

“You know me too well,” he laughed, taking a larger sip of scotch than he’d meant to. This asset of his had many uses, and interesting company was becoming too much of a favorite. “What kind of world do you wanna build when we get there?”

The way she stared at him… It was as though she was right there, seeing deep into the core of him, yet somehow distant. No matter how much time she spent by his side, they were always light years apart.

“Are you feeling sentimental, boss?”

“Not at all,” Crocodile snorted before downing the rest of his drink. He motioned for another round but couldn’t shake off the sticky feeling of her knowing gaze.

She’s right. What the fuck am I doing? Can’t think like this. Not yet.

Nico Robin smirked while her many hands gathered the cards, dealing a fresh game. Crocodile found himself feeling proud of her practiced distance, but had to fight harder than he should have to keep from tugging at it.

Trust is worthless in a world like this.

“Well, boss?”

“Hit me.”

So, I’ll make a better world.

~~~⏰🐊🐊🐊⏰~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

Everything was shining. Unlike most casinos, the shine in your family’s estate wasn’t just for show.

It was another world. The glamor, the music, and the liquor seemed to hypnotize the crowd. Time was a commodity here, seconds falling away like the chips on the table.

You might have been drawn in if you hadn’t been squeezed into this slinky, sequined dress. Viridian green sparkled under the lights, and it wasn’t as uncomfortable as you’d thought it would be. Still fucking distracting though.

I wonder what his casino was like. Would he have liked this dress? He did prefer scales over—

Stop.

You almost asked why Giberson had foregone his private date for this public display but decided not to risk giving him the opening to take you somewhere else. He dragged a velvet covered stool close beside him before wrapping his frail arm around your shoulders, pulling you as close to his side as possible.

Your smile stayed pretty under the golden lights, even as the sounds of the small casino bombarded you. All the hunters, and more guests than you’d seen here before, watched your every move when they weren’t losing berry.

“What’d ya say, darlin,” he winked, nodding toward the cards on the table. “Should I risk it?”

At least there’s something for me to focus on.

“Hit me,” he declared when you nodded, whistling and jostling you when he hit twenty one. “I knew I had a good feeling about you.”

“Is this why you’re here, Gibby? I’m sure you realize that my husband won’t need to gamble to be swimming in berry.”

Those words should not have left your lips. You didn’t need the nearest cam-snail’s drooping eyes to tell you that, but you couldn’t take it back. Playing up the flirtation was all you could think of to salvage it.

The old man raised a brow at you, chuckling at your fluttering lashes.

“You are a sweet, devilish thing, aren’t you, dear?”

Your denial died on your tongue when your eyes got caught across the room, your red-haired prey staring hard at the hand Giberson had brought to your chin.

This old man deserved your gratitude for tilting your face away from those soft, brown eyes.

“I am many things, Gibby,” you purred. “And I am sure that you should stand.”

“I’ve gotta listen to my Lady Luck,” he laughed, wiggling your shoulders to show you off to the leeches at the table.

“Isn’t that cheating,” one of them mumbled, earning a sickly, sweet smile from your lips.

“All is fair in love and war,” you teased, tapping the felt-covered table with one of Giberson’s many chips. “Besides, card counters have to watch a game for longer than I’ve been at the table. It was just a lucky guess.”

Oh, how you ached to smash that entitled asshole’s face onto the shining table.

“You’re one to talk, Linus,” Giberson leaned around you to smirk at the man. The scent of liquor on his breath hit you like a train. “I believe you’re on mistress number three, aren’t you? Or what should we call this newest one, a boy toy? I suppose if Annie knows, then it’s not cheating, but either way, I’m sure she knows now.”

Linus’ face went from annoyance to horror impressively fast when he glanced at the very not-droopy snail on the table, and you bit your lip to keep from laughing.

The man snarled, barely shifting toward you before Uncle’s security guards snatched him away.

“Poor Linus,” you sighed while you shook your head. The satisfaction that warmed your skin only proved your self-hating thoughts, but it was more entertaining than being empty.

Everyone here is a leech. Gorging on my blood and humiliation, eating me alive so they can feel more alive for a while. Fuck them all.

“Don’t worry about him,” your date pulled you back toward the game, “Annie’s been sleeping with his mother since their wedding night, so I’m sure she won’t be too broken up over it.”

You laughed enough that when he bought a bottle and poured you both a shot, you drank the burning whiskey.

After he drank his first, of course.

Then you won him lots of berry and giggled while he whispered secrets about all those shining guests in your ear.

Maybe this old man isn’t so boring after all.

Laughing, and winning, and numbing it all down felt so good. If only you could rid yourself of those stupid, brown eyes that stuck to you more than the old man’s weak hand on your sequined thigh.

“Do you know anything about— “

“Sorry, sweetheart,” Giberson hummed, filling your glass again. He nodded toward the red-haired pirate in the corner before shaking his head. “Afraid I can’t talk about the competition. I’d like to survive long enough to see the end of this delightful game.”

~~~

The corridors were endless. You’d traveled them so many times as a kid, but never quite like this.

Never drunk, in stupid, pointy heels that got caught in the plush carpet, while annoying servants tried to grab your elbows every time you swayed.

It was fine.

It was stupid.

But you weren’t even mad at yourself for being so reckless. Apathy could save or ruin you in a place like this.

All you wanted was to feel nothing. There were many kinds of numb to find, but this particular buzz was wearing off too fast.

You had kept up your smile, and the bells had rung before you lost your mind to liquor. Yet now that the wall of eyes wasn’t on you, that liquor felt thick in your veins, and you needed to scream.

“Don’t fucking touch me!”

“I’m sorry, Miss Sylvad, but— “

“I’ll take it from here. We wouldn’t want any more accidents now, would we, niece?”

You blinked, and the staff had already scurried away, leaving you alone with him.

“My little smarty,” Uncle Cedrick teased, digging his fingers into your arm while he guided you toward your suite. “Finally contributing to the family, after all these years. You almost had me believing that you’d like to marry that old bastard.”

“It’s too early to tell.”

Damn it…

A different kind of numb pulled you down while your gaze trailed down his face.

His jaw is moving a lot. It’s okay. No, not the lips. Jaw. Eyes are too much. Can’t look up. Just down. Can’t look away.

Fuck, I’m dizzy.

“He was never in the running anyway. The nuisance learned about the hunt and asked to join, and I couldn’t risk insulting the man.”

All the words were hitting your wobbly brain, a headache building behind your brow until you gasped at his sudden touch. Your uncle gripped your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze in the darkened hallway.

“You’re going to send the old man away tomorrow, and the fishman the day after that. You may be a selfish brat, but you’re still a Sylvad. It wouldn’t do to let you get stuffed full of expired seed, or guppies, now, would it?”

His eyes flared with satisfaction when you couldn’t hide the horror and disgust that twisted your features. You were trapped, gulping down your bile while he leaned over you, gripping tighter.

“Keep up the good work, niece,” Uncle hummed while he tilted you toward your door. “Now go wash up. Whiskey isn’t a flattering scent on a blushing bride.”

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🐊🐊🐊~~~

There was no point in fixing the conference room. Any replacement furniture would have been shattered the second he saw those tear-filled eyes on the screen.

A makeshift door had been propped up for privacy, although there was no one but Buggy within range of Crocodile’s rage.

That pathetic, useless rage that left the scarred man sitting on the floor in a pile of splinters and sand again, fighting not to drink. Not yet, at least.

“Good evening, sir.”

“Is it ready,” Crocodile rasped, not ready for the answer.

“I believe so, sir,” Zala reported, her lovely voice too somber to be soothing. “The next cam-snail’s date is a bit smudged, so I’m not certain the timing is right. We’re trying to send them in order— “

“Just send it.”

…

“Agent?”

“Of course, sir,” the deadly woman breathed, strangely soft through the line. “Do you have orders for us when we arrive? We still have over a week, but it could be two days less if we— “

“Await your orders,” Crocodile growled, more at his own powerlessness than her questioning.

“Of course,” Zala conceded, sharing her next words in a rush before ending the call. “We’ll get her back, sir. I won’t fail again.”

~~~

For a cruel moment, Crocodile’s breath caught in hope. His sweet girl looked better.

He should have known better.

‘How are you feeling today, Y/N?’

~~~⚫⚫⚫~~~

‘I’m feeling well, thank you, doctor,’ she hummed softly, keeping her eyes low, although the doctor was still offscreen. A nurse guided her to sit, no restraints holding her to the table this time.

‘Are you ready to begin?’

‘Yes, doctor.’

His girl was empty. Poised and polite with nothing inside.

They made a doll out of her.

‘Just breathe, Y/N,’ Dr. Vorsan instructed, his slippery voice making Crocodile’s fingers twitch. ‘The snail won’t hurt you, and you aren’t going to hurt it.’

‘Of course, I won’t–’

‘Soft hands, Y/N,’ he warned while she unclenched her jaw and fists.

A transponder snail was placed on the table before her, and her eyes went slow and droopy while she stared at it.

‘We discussed this, Y/N.’ The doctor clicked his tongue while the nurse reached for the snail. Y/N shook herself but stopped before her hand got too close to the creature.

Her eyes were wide now, her panicked breaths loud enough for him to hear all these years later.

‘I’m sorry, please,’ Y/N strained, going empty again while she pleaded. ‘I’m okay. I want to call my sister.’

‘Are you sure you’re ready,’ Vorsan needled. That voice was so perfectly kind, yet violent. It was a syringe that promised healing, but forced too much, poisoning with what seemed like a cure. ‘Take your time, Y/N. If you push yourself too far, you might have another episode, and I know you don’t want to put your family through that. You don’t want to hurt–’

‘I want to be well, doctor.’

Wrong. So, fucking wrong.

‘Please, let me try again,’ Y/N begged, her sweet voice placating the monster out of view. ‘I’ll breathe and go slow. I want to get better.’

The nurse brought the snail back, and Crocodile couldn’t tell how much time passed while she stared at it. Her eyes were present, yet he could see the strain, her almost-smile shaking a bit.

“What the fuck?”

The fucking snail had started ringing, and Y/N’s scream made him choke. She struggled to swallow it down, rocking in her seat until the nurse reached out to take it. She took in a breath when she reached out instead to answer, that sickening smile on her face.

‘Hey, smarty.’

Crocodile’s hook dug deep lines along the floor.

‘I heard you were practicing with the snail today, so I thought I’d help out. We all want you back home, safe and sound. Although, I suppose it’s not your safety we should be worrying about.’

If not for the slow shine of unspilled tears that grew in her eyes, Crocodile would have thought the recording had paused. She was frozen, until she flinched at his next words.

‘I should probably check on little Kathryn. I told them not to sail this close to Aqua Laguna, but you know how stubborn–’

‘You’re lying,’ she screamed, spittle flying toward the snail before nurses appeared to restrain her. ‘Let me talk to my sister!’

‘Oh dear, you don’t sound very well, niece. I hope–’

‘Fuck you! Where’s Kat? Let me see my– Get your fucking hands off of me! I’m gonna kill…’

Cedrick Sylvad’s laughter creeped through the air, the transponder snail carrying that vile sound through space and time.

Y/N had gone still, letting the nurses entangle their arms with hers, trapping her between them while they called nonsensical orders to each other in bland voices.

She didn’t cry.

Didn’t apologize.

Didn’t fight.

She looked like she’d been defeated, and Sylvad’s gloating laughter proved the point.

‘I hope you get well soon, niece,” her uncle taunted. ‘I’ll tell your sister you’re not ready yet, once she gets back. Hopefully she makes it before the storm hits.’

Crocodile’s sweet girl slumped, her body going limp while so many others held her up. Cedrick Sylvad’s laughter ripped through the air until she was carted away, and the wall went dark.

~~~⚫⚫⚫~~~

~~~

~⚫~SUMMARY~⚫~

The scene above was from Crocodile’s POV as he watched another recording of Y/N at the asylum. During this recording, Crocodile noticed that the reader appeared to be “better.” However, the prodding voice of Dr. Vorsan, and the reveal of a transponder snail showed that the reader was struggling to maintain her “doll-like” emptiness. The reader expressed a desire to speak with her sister, and was cooperating with the doctor, although he scolded her and reminded her of the potential violence she may cause. The reader remained calm and requested to try speaking with the snail again. The snail rang unexpectedly, and her uncle began to speak through it, causing the reader to become afraid, then react violently when Cedrick stated that her sister was currently sailing close to the time of the Aqua Laguna storm. The reader began to yell and threaten violence, until she looked defeated while her uncle laughed. The reader went limp while nurses restrained her and carried her away before the recording ended.

~⚫~SUMMARY~⚫~

~~~🐊🐊🐊~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

“Leave her alone, Uncle,” Kat seethed, charging into the hall to pull you from his grasp.

“I’m just making sure she gets home safe,” he teased, clicking his tongue before releasing you. “Looks like big sis needs your help tonight. Aren’t you relieved that you won’t have to be her babysitter for much longer?”

“Fuck you— “

“It’s alright, Kitty,” you smiled, fighting your shaking muscles, and the nausea that flooded your body. “You got any snacks in your suite?”

“Ta-ta,” Uncle Cedrick smirked, thankfully walking away.

Leaving you with her.

Fuck. I’m making her take care of me again. Selfish. Piece of shit. Stop.

“What kind of snacks do you want,” Kat frowned. Her eyes were sharp against your swaying form, but you held up your smile for her.

“Salty. Crunchy.”

“Alright, drunky,” she rolled her eyes, “will you drink some fucking water first?”

~~~

Gods, it’s bright. Smile. Don’t forget to smile.

“Are you feeling well, niece?”

Uncle Cedrick beamed down at you, guiding you to the fallen tree in the courtyard, where the applause that greeted you made you want to chop your fucking ears off. The ungodly amount of coffee you’d inhaled during the breakfast with Giberson had been for naught, and you couldn’t recall any of the long winded stories he’d trampled you with.

There’d be no more of his stories for you after this.

“Good afternoon, fine friends and hunters,” he addressed the crowd, and the suitors lined up along the carved bench. His practiced movements spread large across the side of the manor for all to see. You caught him glancing at his image on the projector screen enough times that you almost laughed.

It probably would have hurt to laugh right now.

“Before today’s hunt begins, I’m afraid that one of our contestants has missed the mark.”

Uncle pulled an arrow from the quiver at his back. He pressed the point of it to your chest, making the leeches gasp with mock fear or delight before he broke it in half.

“Go on, dear niece,” he ordered, pressing the splintered wood into your hand. “Who failed to pierce your heart?”

Don’t let it in. Nothing matters. Just her.

Fading into yourself, you put on a show, avoiding the sight of your simpering smile on the wall. Tittering noises filled the air while the wooden platform moved you from suitor to suitor, and you could hear the vultures calling out their last-minute bets.

You put on a good show, but eyes were too much. An inch below their left eye. That’s where you’d look while you paused.

No favorites. No least favorites.

The moving platform wasn’t helping your nausea, or it might have been the scent of the Emperor whose crooked smile was almost as abhorrent to look at as his soft eyes.

The painfully slow display finally came to a halt, the stench of whiskey still too fresh in your mind.

The old man hadn’t been that bad though.

“I’m sorry, Gibby. Your arrow didn’t pierce my heart.”

He took the broken arrow, before kissing your forehead, his mustache scratching along your skin.

“Not to worry, my dear,” Giberson soothed, humming at the noises of the winners and losers in the crowd. From the sound of it, he’d been an underdog in the race anyway. “I feel lucky just to be here at all. Thank you for the lovely company.”

You needed to sit down.

You had to keep smiling.

“Of course, Gibby,” your uncle shmoozed, gripping Giberson by the shoulder. He appeared to be speaking to the failed hunter, but his voice was too clear, his words too pointed.

Another part of the show.

“You may not be in the running to be our family, but you wouldn’t be here if you weren’t a friend of the Sylvad’s,” Uncle Cedrick glowed as the leeches practically moaned at the implication. Everyone wanted to be in his world. “You are more than welcome to stay for the festivities as a guest, so long as you don’t act like a sore loser and ruin the fun, of course.”

The joviality in the air was too full of greed. Your future was never going to be yours, but you hadn't expected him to let so many others join in his game.

This game that never fucking stopped.

“Our lovely doe has requested a show of love for today’s hunt,” he took your hand and spun you for the crowd, grabbing you by the waist to keep you from tripping over yourself. “Run along, hunters. In the woods you’ll find materials of all sorts, but you’re welcome to use your own. Create something to show how you’ll care for your dear wife once you catch her. Care to give them any tips, Y/N?”

Fuck you.

“The man I love will make me smile.”

Uncle Cedrick caught his frown before it fully formed, but your tiny rebellion went cold when his eyes flicked to the locket you were fidgeting with.

“You heard the doe, hunters,” he ordered, studying your shaky hands that you dropped to your sides too fast. “Make your prey smile before you pierce her heart.”

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~⏰🐊🐊🐊⏰~~~

He shouldn’t have been dropping his guard like this, but something about this room, this ridiculous, green couch, and that sweet girl’s flustered face, had Sir Crocodile fighting off a smile.

“But… I’ve still got work to do, and they— “

“Is my sweet girl worried about other men right now,” he threatened, patting the cushion beside him while he tried to keep his balance.

The clown was off preparing for that gods awful show they’d have to sit through at the party, while the swordsman ran through security. Since Crocodile had already sent agents out to hunt for party favors, he had a free moment, and he chose to spend it taunting their numbers girl.

She looked so pretty with that flash of fear in her eyes.

Especially when she gave in so quickly.

“N-no, I…”

“You’ve been working so hard. I can help you relax. Wanna take a break, sweetheart?”

Y/N bit her lip softly, and Crocodile nearly launched himself at her. Patience wasn’t one of his virtues, but luckily his numbers girl got to her feet.

“Not so fast, darlin,” he teased while she yelped in his grasp, moving through sand to carry her before she could take a step with her bare feet.

“Fuck!”

She looked so cute when he tossed her onto his desk. Y/N was shaking so much that he almost stopped, his fingers clenching against the wooden desk while he took a final puff of his cigar. The feel of smoke on his tongue only made him crave her more.

“Well, sweetheart, you’re not scared to be alone with me, are— “

“I want you, daddy,” Y/N vowed, her voice like some heavenly song, guiding him toward things he didn’t deserve. She sat up, reaching, clinging to him until he chuckled and pushed her soft fingers away. She’d tugged at his silk scarf, and he let her keep the purple fabric when he shoved her back onto the desk.

“Are you gonna be a good girl, and relax for me,” he taunted. Crocodile stamped out his cigar before kneeling beside his desk, fighting his smile again at every desperate noise she made while he set her legs up on his shoulders. She nodded fast while he tore through her cheap panties with his hook, and her scent finally did him in.

This ex-warlord, this wicked pirate, this bad man… was smiling. Smiling from pleasure and peace instead of cruelty and greed.

Sir Crocodile caught his smile as he pressed it against that sweet, swollen flesh, loving the way she tore at his hair. Her fingers went rough, then weak, again and again, as though she couldn’t help her need, but feared his reaction.

“Let go, sweetheart. Let Daddy have it all,” he purred before shoving his tongue so deep. He moaned while he drank at her pleasure, proud of how she took what she needed, pulling his hair at the roots while she fell apart.

“You’re doing so well,” Crocodile praised, fighting everything in him not to claim this sweet girl for himself, his own little dream.

“Please, daddy.”

“My little girl’s so hungry,” he laughed while his fingers teased along all the wetness she spread before him. “You can have everything you want.”

Y/N had pushed onto her elbows to meet his eyes, but fell back, her body arching when he shoved two fingers into her pretty cunt. Her moans were so fucking precious that the ex-warlord’s mind went blank. Nothing but her.

“It’s still work hours, sugar. Try to keep it down.”

Fuck, she was gorgeous when her eyes rolled back, eagerly letting him shove that purple silk into her mouth. She was already crying when he undid his slacks, freeing himself to tease along that needy flesh.

Crocodile missed, pouring lube down the side of the desk before covering his leaking cock. She was too good of a girl for him to rush this, but the feel of his own lubed hand was nearly enough while he watched her begging beneath him.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he guided her while he held himself back. “You can take it, can’t you?”

He tried to be gentle, but Y/N still cried and screamed, so he fucked himself into her until his scarf fell from her lips.

“It’s too— feels too good— fuck!!”

She spoke the truth until he shoved the silk back into her mouth. It felt too fucking good to fill her up, to feel her body stretching and fighting to hold him. So soft, so wet, so fucking tight around his cock with every thrust.

But she could take him. She could take all of him, and she looked beautifully wrecked while she did, that silk scarf dark with spit now when he tugged it from her lips again.

“Where does my sweet girl— “

“Inside me, daddy,” Y/N cried out before her body milked his again, eyes going white while she came. “Come inside me, please!”

“Fuck, you take me so well, baby girl. Mm— so fucking perfect…”

Crocodile held her down, pressing his palm against her chest. He hadn’t realized that his hook had been tracing along her side until he started filling her, but she looked like she was enjoying it, so he didn’t bother to stop.

She looked like she was enjoying getting fucked by a monster.

She looked so sweet when he met her eyes, pulling out slowly to keep from causing more harm.

“Daddy…”

“Hey, sweet girl,” he hummed while he kissed her neck. Her squirms were enough, and he felt his scarred face smiling against her skin once more. “How— “

“You could have just said you wanted her to yourself for a while,” the swordsman taunted from the doorway that had opened too quietly.

Or maybe Crocodile had let himself get too distracted.

“I thought you didn’t like liars,” Mihawk smirked, moving close enough to snag the spit-soaked scarf from the desk.

“We got some work done,” Crocodile told the truth, although it felt like a lie when he looked down at her. “My sweet girl just needed a break.”

~~~⏰🐊🐊🐊⏰~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🗡️🗡️🗡️~~~

Their faces were easy to match up with the voices he’d planned to end while he listened in that dusty shed. This drab, little hole had been shined up so brightly, almost passing for a real casino, but Mihawk knew it could still use a fresh coat of red paint.

“I suppose that only imbeciles would fail to recognize me when I walk through the door. I had assumed that was what all of you were, given your foolish choice in hobbies.”

“Hawkeye— Mr. Mihawk, sir, please,” the owner of the stale, little hall beckoned him toward the sticky, corner booth, “you’re an honored guest! Please, relax, and let us show you how we party in Majiastuka.”

The slim possibility of those words swaying the ex-warlord burned away when faraway voices filled the air.

‘You’re our little princess now.’

Their deaths would come later. For now, Mihawk kept his gaze away from the projector screen, and the flustered face of his little rabbit.

“What a delightful invitation,” the world’s greatest swordsman sneered, drawing his black blade to hover over the filthy floorboards. “Unfortunately, I have already had my fill of your wretched squeals. Unless you can tell me how to reach Miss Sylvad, your worthless time on this planet is over.”

“Fuck thi— “

A coward off to the side stumbled while he cursed, fleeing toward the door. Mihawk didn’t even need to shift his eyes in that direction; Yoru simply flicked across the floor, the blade smacking into a chair that cracked the man’s neck when it hit.

Every movement, every breath was precise.

A predator, and its prey.

“Hey man, I’m sorry, okay,” the pathetic kingpin begged while the ex-warlord stalked closer. “How can I help? Anything, please!”

“Such a well-mannered beast,” Mihawk growled while he dug his nails into the man’s jaw. “I’m taking your special snail, and I shall take your life if you don’t tell me where the fuck you got it from.”

~~~🗡️🗡️🗡️~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

This might be the worst idea you’d ever had.

“It’s a…”

“Graham cracker house. They’re usually gingerbread, but no one likes to eat that shit.”

Cracker beamed down at you, so proud of the sloppy, edible house that he’d dropped onto your lap.

“That’s you,” he pointed toward the misshapen figure by the front door. “I know that you’re a good girl that wants to help your family. I’ll help you be happy and safe, and you’ll help our family grow.”

Oh.

The misshapen clump finally took shape in your mind; that fucked up cracker was meant to be you.

Barefoot and pregnant.

This is super fucking fun.

“Thank you, Cracker. It’s lovely.”

“It’s trash,” Cracker corrected with that menacing grin, and you almost yelped when he touched your face. You had to meet his eyes, and that basic, human intimacy, coupled with the scent of that sugary house, nearly had you spilling your disgust onto the floor.

Nausea had you in a chokehold, but that didn’t stop your smile.

This ridiculous man leaned down, and the sparks at the ends of his hair were too fucking close to your face when he purred in your ear.

“You’re the only lovely thing I see.”

~~~

How strange that the sight of such a light and precious thing could drag you down so far.

In the place of a pearl, the shell opened to show a long-lasting bubble. The treasure had become a reminder of your selfishness and privilege, yet your heart still ached at the sight.

Precious trees had helped create this little magic. Sabaody should have been treasured, protected.

Instead, it was hell: a humiliating torture for people that didn’t look like you.

“It’s beautiful, Prince Fukaboshi,” you sighed. “Thank you.”

“It is nowhere near as beautiful as your selfless heart.”

Smiling was harder when you had to swallow the burning bile on the back of your tongue.

~~~

“This is very nice,” you lied.

“It’s a poor rendition,” your prey laughed at his ugly drawing of what looked like a pile of fingers until you deciphered the shapes. “Starfish cling to their world, holding tight to their home… I could have stolen it for you, but it’s not right to take a star from where it belongs.”

“So, you left my star all alone,” you managed to pout; you were a selfish, spoiled, rich girl.

Starfish were apparently too much for you to handle.

~~~

“What do ya think, numbers girl?”

That deep voice made you shiver, shaking you out of your fog, but into the chaos of old desire.

You knew you should hate him. You should be disgusted by his mere presence here, by all the details that would make your eyebrows raise if you heard them about a similar relationship.

But you were too far gone to give a fuck.

Mr. Iceburg was smiling at you. He was reaching out to rest his hand on yours before offering a gift he’d made with those same, lovely hands. The rough skin scraping against yours seemed to send you back in time, a teenage craving, still unfulfilled.

“There wasn’t enough time, but I hope you like it,” Iceburg hummed when he placed a small, carved ship in your palm. The rough wood smelled incredible, and it was beautiful, rough as it was.

All the details were vague, but your thumb traced across the redwood he’d carved onto the main sail.

It wasn’t just his looks that had stolen your heart when you were younger. Mr. Iceburg had an air of kindness and wonderment about him that reminded you what those feelings could be like.

Were you too far gone to feel that light?

Was he too much of a leech for it to be real?

Who fucking cares? It’s Mr. Iceburg.

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

“So, you left my star all alone?”

Y/N’s pouting lips were too much; Shanks was horrified by her ability to lie with every part of her.

“Well, I…”

That fallen star smiled while the bells called him away, and she chose another man, yet again.

~~~

The Great Red-Haired Shanks was fucking useless.

He had fucked up so completely that his every step to fix things put miles and miles between them.

And he couldn’t fucking talk about it.

The estate was literally crawling with snails, so Shanks couldn’t risk speaking openly to his first mate. He couldn’t relax for a second with how hyper aware he’d become of the low hum of their presence.

How the fuck does she live like this?

Throughout the pain and hardships of his own life, this Emperor of the Sea had carried something with him that he was lacking here, and the discomfort of its loss felt like another phantom pain, an unreachable itch.

Shanks was raised as a pirate.

He was raised to be free.

No one was free on this wretched island, except for the tyrant that toyed with them all.

Cedrick Sylvad hadn’t joined the group that flocked to his little casino for a second night. He didn’t need the cash.

The red-haired pirate followed the leeches and did his best to shove his frustrations aside while he fought for her.

“Still here, huh?”

“Why would I leave,” Giberson breathed noxious fumes into his face while he leaned over his cards. “This game’s only just begun.”

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

Kat’s face pulled you into the moment, her quivering lips failing to hold back her disparaging smile.

You couldn’t blame her.

“That’s a really nice cape,” she snorted, falling into laughter.

“I thought you wanted me to marry a Vinsmoke.” Your words were strained, although annoyance or laughter could have been the cause.

“Totally,” she managed to deadpan. “Definitely the number one choice.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

It was so good to see her cackle, even if you had to wear this poofy, frilly, fire-engine red gown to make it happen.

The cape wasn’t nearly as bad as the embroidered “ones” along the hems.

“I want you to marry one of them if…”

“Spit it out,” you ordered, holding in your own laughs while Kat fell apart.

“If they’re your number one choice,” she squeaked again while she steadied herself with a hand on her thigh.

You couldn’t blame her. Not with the state your hair was in.

~~~

“Tonight, we have lifted one of our rules for the sake of fairness to our esteemed hunters,” Uncle charmed the crowd, his fingers resting on the back of your neck.

He looked down at you with that practiced mask of a doting uncle while he gripped your skin like you were an unruly animal that he had to control.

“My dear niece must remain within the borders of the island, but the sky’s the limit now.”

He stepped away with a smirk, and you were too drained from smiling to care what he meant. It was always a game at your expense. You were just glad that he wasn’t touching you anymore.

Resisting the urge to scratch his eyes out like the unruly animal you were took a lot of energy, and you were going to need it tonight.

The vultures were practically squealing while Prince Ichiji walked up the path, flanked on either side by his brothers. The ruffles on their shirts looked natural on them, and their capes just reminded you that they were royalty, even if they descended from vicious conquerors who claimed that status. From all you’d gathered, these current Vinsmokes seem to carry that violent legacy.

Except for when they looked at you.

Ichiji held out the longest, but soon the three of them were staring at you like hungry puppies. Niji and Yonji knelt at your sides to kiss your hands, thoroughly. Ichiji leaned down, the swoops in his red hair casting distracting shadows across his face beneath the lanterns.

“Everyone’s fighting to take home the lovely prize,” he breathed against your ear before he pulled back to meet your eyes. “But they can’t have you.”

“Oh,” you tried to tease, but the kisses still peppering your hands and fingers were too distracting. “Why is that?”

The three of them laughed, and you would have fallen if they hadn’t gripped your hands in time. The three princes had all touched their belts, and the colorful raid suits they were so famous for spread over them instantly, to roaring applause. You hadn’t had time to catch your breath before Ichiji lifted you into his arms.

“You’re our little princess now.”

Don’t scream. Don’t scream. Don’t scream.

“Don’t be scared, pretty,” he comforted, though his pleased voice didn’t stop the world from disappearing beneath you.

“Yeah, I’ll catch you if he drops you,” Yonji flew close to your cheek.

“I won’t drop her.”

How does their hair stay like that in the wind, you thought, giggling to yourself while you watched the trees beneath you.

“Can I touch the top of a tree?”

“You can touch anything you– ”

“Back off, Niji,” Ichiji growled at his blue haired brother that had flown too close this time before returning to that simpering voice. “Of course, princess. We can find every tree on the island, if you like.”

“Just one is lovely, thank you.”

Touching the top of a redwood tree had never crossed your mind, but the feel of it against your fingers gave you a moment of sweetness at the thought of telling your dad about it. He would be so excited, and he’d want to know every detail, until you both were scribbling on notepads to calculate how long it would take to touch every tree on the island.

It was stupid. How could you stay numb when you kept reminding yourself of pain, or of something far crueler than that?

Happiness and love would tear you apart.

~~~

If you weren’t out of breath, you might have giggled again at how well the scene fit with your last thought.

Another clearing on another stolen hill had come into view, during one of the brief glances you’d sent toward the ground. That ground was coming too close, too fast, but the scent hit you before your feet touched the ground.

Someone had planted a circular wall of roses that was taller than you’d thought possible for the flower. You had learned that the realm of possibility was vaster than you could imagine. What were some huge rose bushes compared to everything else in your world?

Ichiji set you down beside a gorgeous table of dark wood, with large, cushioned chairs in that matching rose-red.

He poured champagne, toasting to your beauty while you waited for him to sip first.

“Are you nervous,” the red head asked, the hint of laughter in his tone. “Don’t worry, princess, you can relax here. I made sure we’d have plenty of privacy.”

“Yeah,” Yonji called while he flew down into the tower of roses. “No one’s getting in here without catching some thorns.”

“We finished the rounds,” Niji reported. He stayed floating toward the top, lazily bouncing something in his hand. “This is the only snail left in a mile radius. Now you two can have some alone time.

“DON’T HURT IT! Please… don’t…”

Niji paused with his arm pulled back, stopping before throwing the transponder snail, cocking his head as he looked down at you.

“Don’t be so cruel, brother,” Ichiji purred beside you.

Breathe. Just breathe.

“Please, don’t hurt it,” you tried to keep your voice from shaking. It was already hoarse from that scream. “I… like snails.”

“So sweet,” Yonji swooned. He flew close, with Niji and the poor snail following behind him. “You should see our— “

“It’s my turn, brothers,” the eldest prince reminded them.

Yonji kissed your cheek before he flew away, but Niji grabbed your wrist. He placed the snail in the center of your palm before tracing his fingers down the side of your face.

“Such a pretty princess,” he hummed, “I’ll make sure this thing is safe for you. We can even let some watch our date if you— “

“This is my date, Niji.”

“Right. Have fun, you two.”

Thankfully, the blue-haired brother grabbed the snail before he flew away, but another set of eyes stayed glued to your skin.

“Sorry about that, beautiful. Let’s eat, I wanna know about all the other sweet things you like.”

Still cheesy. Still cocky.

Yet somehow his guiding hand on you lower back, and his hungry eyes reminded you of another sort of numb.

Nothing matters, so I might as well enjoy this.

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🐊🐊🐊~~~

“Feel good, star,” Crocodile’s little clown mumbled in his sleep, the stench of liquor on Buggy’s breath rivaling his own.

“Hey,” he started, wanting to carry Buggy to bed instead of leaving him alone on that green couch. “Come on— “

“Just feel good, baby,” his clown whined softly, the sadness in his voice tearing at the scarred man even more tonight.

“Shh, Buggy. It’s gonna be okay.”

He hoped he wasn’t lying.

“I won’t tell, star. I know it was a— What the fuck?”

“It’s just me, little clown. Let’s go to bed,” he offered his hand. Buggy shook himself but followed him down the empty corridor to that empty bed. “Bad dreams again?”

“No— I mean, just the same bullshit,” Buggy coughed while his fingers tapped along his thigh. “Ha, I really thought the booze would help… What about you?”

Crocodile pulled the man close, and kissed that tangled, blue hair as he closed his eyes against this shitty world.

“We’re gonna get her back,” he vowed ignoring the scent of lies in the air. There had never been room for trust in this world, but Crocodile realized he didn’t care if his little lovers were lying to him. He just needed them back.

He needed to make a better world for them.

~~~🐊🐊🐊~~~

Likes, comments, and reblogs bring me much ✨dopamine✨ thank you!!

Author's Note: "I've still been disappearing from the world," is how I started my last author's note from Chapter 34. So much has changed in my life.

Personal Vent below! Mostly vague, but trigger warning for toxic, demanding work environments, and their affect on physical and mental health. Mention of bipolar and adhd.

PLEASE DON'T READ THIS unless you really want to, and have the space for it! I would rather you scroll past than to take on any of my stress.

I am okay, and I want Numbers Game to be a place for us to rest and enjoy some fictional chaos instead. This will be the last time I'll discuss this on a Numbers Game post, but I felt I had to share how much I've wanted to be here with y'all. Any future updates will be posted separately on my lynna's health updates tag.

I am free from the situation that was wrecking my physical, mental, and financial health for the past five years. That chaos sent me into an episode that landed me on medical leave last year. But that fucked up time is when I started writing, and joined this wonderful community. I wouldn't have made it though the past year without y'all. I was in full on crisis mode, and it had all come to a head over these past few months. Then I got out. I was so fucking excited to tell y'all about the new changes in my life, but I was overwhelmed with everything that I had to do to get out and prepare. Plus, my fucking thumb stopped working because I was typing the first draft of this chapter on my phone since I had no time to sit down and write, and I had to rest it for the new job that seemed perfect for me. I hope that it'll get better soon, but I seem to have jumped out of the frying pan, and into the fire. I am okay. I am safe. I am just tired as fuck, and needing to set boundaries with a new company that is even more demanding than the last. At least they are actually paying me on time, and it's less physically demanding, (unless you count a lifelong insomniac adjusting to waking up at 6am and getting home at 6pm, five days a week 🥴). The main reason I was excited for this job, besides relieving the crisis shit I was going though, was that it would have a regular schedule; I'd be able to focus on what I really want to do. Sorry it took me so long to catch my breath, but I'm fucking back, y'all. I'm not letting another company drain my soul away. I'm not working off the clock any more.

I've got smut to write 🥰📝🔥

With so much love,

~ Lynna 💜✨

Chapter 36

Operation Olive Branch has compiled a working spreadsheet of ways to help families fleeing from the genocide in Palestine. If you enjoyed this fic, and are able, please click the link to find a list of GoFundMe's, as well as other ways to help.

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biggesthomuradefender · 4 months ago

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homura akemi & birds: black swans, crows, & ravens (analysis)

i feel like i've noticed that homura has some interesting similarities/coincidences (?) w birds, specifically crows, ravens, and black swans. and since i haven't seen anyone rly mention it yet, i decided i might as well and have a crack at it :)

i hope you enjoy !!

- black swans.

now, the easiest comparison u can make first is the fact that homura's entire devil outfit seems to be made entirely out of dark feathers, or at least replicating the appearance of them. she even has wings made of black feathers and bone (i had no idea the white part was bone, deadass thought that was just for aesthetic purposes only. isn't that cool and morbid as hell???) as well.

i feel like this is a very obvious reference to the black swan from swan lake, aka odile, often presented as odette's (the white swan, aka madoka/ultimate madoka in this scenario) double or opposite, causing them to create yin and yang together.

(an image of the black swan, aka odile, and the white swan, aka odette, from the 2010 "black swan" movie)

homura believes herself to be the devil, the very embodiment of all that is evil, wicked, unlovable, etc. bc of her very black-and-white mindset caused by repeated trauma; this makes her the opposite of madoka in her eyes, who embodies hope, love, selfishness, etc.

just as odette's outfit is pure white, so is ultimate madoka's attire.

on top of that, when i did some research on black swans, and there is apparently a metaphor called the "black swan theory" that characterizes an event that has a huge outcome, occurs as a surprise, and often used incorrectly when someone wants to or tries to rationalize/make sense of their actions after they know the outcome of them.

in a more broad sense, it can be used to highlight or represent how we have the tendency to underestimate or overlook the possibility of events that are unpredictable and rare.

sounds exactly like devil homura, doesn't it? her taking the power of the law of cycles (or at least part of it) was a huge shock to everyone, including the audience, and the way she tries to (incorrectly) rationalize her actions by proclaiming herself the devil and all that is evil and cruel after she has done it, when that clearly isn’t true.

the term itself comes from the idea that people thought that all swans were white, so when black swans were discovered, it challenged their beliefs.

kinda like how homura believes herself to be/calls herself the devil, even though she is technically a goddess, like ultimate madoka is. referring to/seeing herself as a goddess in any capacity would surely challenge her black-and-white mindset, bc how could she be anything like madoka when she's oh-so-terrible and madoka is anything but?

- crows.

in different cultures, crows symbolically represent transformation, death and the afterlife, fortune telling and the prophecy (such as warnings and good omens), intelligence. even more so, seeing a crow in your dream is apparently a sign of change that is coming into your life.

without saying much else, you can probably see the similarities to homura very easily. not only did she transform into a supposed "devil", but she also had a transformation when she went from moemura, aka her glasses and braids self, to the more cold, closed-off persona and demeanor she portrays.

homura is clearly very intelligent, and she served as the embodiment of a warning and a good omen since her introduction, albeit quite ominously and cryptically. her constant warnings and protection towards madoka and her telling madoka the truth about who she is and what her goals are in ep. 10 are both parts of what directly allows madoka to make the ultimate wish and sacrifice she made in ep. 12 to begin with, besides the fact that she was directly affecting madoka's karmic destiny.

not to mention, madoka had a dream about homura the night before she transferred to her class, and her life promptly changed tremendously right after that.

when the research about crows i researched mentioned death and the afterlife, i instantly thought of homulily's design.

- ravems.

ravens basically say the same thing !! but unlike crows, the research.i found mentions that ravens have symbolic connections to the spiritual and moral world, and be able to move across them as messengers.

ironically enough, homura's clara dolls, which represent the way she sees herself, call themselves the "troupe of the mortal world"... very interesting.

even more so... doesn't homura's hair kind of look like dark bird wings because of how they're parted due to her constantly wearing braids before moving them, especially when it blows in the wind? (i sadly don't have any gifs of that but hopefully, you know what i'm talking abt lol)

look at how even more bird-like and dramatic it becomes when she's devil homura.

before

and after

anyways, that's my analysis !! hope u guys enjoyed and thanks for reading :)

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pascaloverx · 8 months ago

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Moonlight

Summary: You and Edward Cullen used to have a romantic relationship. But fate seemed not to believe in the possibility of a vampire and a potential she-wolf being together. Years after your separation, you return to Forks. Edward is committed to Bella Swan, and Jacob Black has his own pack. What happens when, upon your return, you begin to transform into a she-wolf and both Edward and Jacob seem eager to revisit the past with you?

Author's Note: The characters in this fanfic do not belong to me but to Stephenie Meyer and the Twilight universe. The story blends events that happened in the Twilight saga movies with invented ones. Enjoy reading. This story will contain inappropriate language, a possible love triangle, scenes of violence, and romance.

TWO FOUR

THREE

The guilt of kissing Edward was eating away at you inside. You didn't know if you were feeling worse because of the kiss or because you enjoyed kissing him so much. The worst part was that you were starting to want to kiss him again. But that couldn't happen again. Not while he's dating someone else and you're staying at the house of his biggest enemy.

"You know your thoughts almost scream because they're so loud, right?" Billy Black comments as he walks through the door of his room. Well, his guest room. You realize you've been sitting on the bed, replaying every moment from last night. What could you have done to avoid feeling so burdened with guilt?

"Mr. Black, may I ask you a question?" You inquire as you snap back to reality. Billy Black was your father's best friend, which is why you grew up close to Jacob.

"No need for all that formality, Y/N. But go ahead and ask your question." Mr. Black enters the room, wheeling his wheelchair close to where you're sitting. You look at him, feeling a bit embarrassed about asking such a question.

"If you had made a mistake and your mind was punishing you with the heaviest burden of guilt, what would you do?" You ask, sounding quite dramatic, which makes him chuckle a bit.

"There are two ways to relieve the burden of guilt. The first, more complicated and less chosen: be honest and admit the mistake to everyone it may affect. Or you can take the other way: experience the guilt and let it go. Your father used to tell me that some mistakes are meant to live only in the deepest corners of our being. I hope I've helped." Mr. Black speaks calmly, as you find yourself thinking that perhaps this is a mistake you'd like to keep hidden in some corner of your being.

"You did help. I think I need to get some fresh air. If Jacob asks for me, tell him I'll be at the cliff." You say as you get up from the bed, and Mr. Black nods understandingly, acknowledging that you needed that time. The cliff was the place where all of you used to meet when you were younger. Jumping off it was your big adventure together. When you reach the top of the cliff, you feel the wind hitting your face strongly. It's liberating. You close your eyes, and for a moment, you feel nothing at all.

"Do you remember the last time we were here?" Edward appears behind you. You really didn't miss those surprise appearances of his.

"I remember a situation like this before. You showing up out of the blue and me trying to figure out what I've done to deserve the honor of having my private time invaded by Edward Cullen. But tell me, what do you want?" You speak almost harshly, clearly on the defensive, fearing a difficult conversation with Cullen. You don't even turn to look at Edward.

"If only back then I had left you alone. Maybe we wouldn't have broken up, and now we might be experiencing a different reality." Edward speaks as he approaches, and you can feel his presence getting closer to you.

"Stop with this talk. After what we did, reminiscing about the past is the last thing we should be doing. You should thank me for breaking up with you. You're in love with someone else. And you shouldn't even be here. There's more than one pack of wolves who jump off this cliff ready to take out any vampire." Looking into Edward's eyes as you say this makes everything more personal. Unfortunately, you can't help but worry about Cullen. Unfortunately, the kiss you shared proves that there are feelings between you.

"I want to talk about the kiss. You basically locked yourself in the Black house. I had to come here." Edward speaks as he approaches you, and you take a step back. Too much proximity might lead to repeating the mistake.

"I'll make it easy for you. The kiss meant nothing. We were foolish and let ourselves get carried away by silly sentimentality. We're not meant for each other. You're literally living your happily ever after. Overthinking that damn kiss will only hurt us. And hurt those around us." You say, feeling tears welling up in your eyes. Damn it, this conversation has barely begun and you already feel deeply affected by lying to Edward, especially because it's not true.

"It would be easier for me to move on if you told me why you broke up with me. Why you want to bury your feelings for me so deep in your heart that I hardly recognize the woman I fell in love with," Edward says, somewhat angrily, moving closer to you.

"My father found out about us the day before I broke up with you. I wanted to tell you, but he said he would kill every member of your family, that a war between the Cullens and the Quileutes would be on my hands. I feared for us. And for my tribe." As you explain to Edward something that remained unresolved between you, you feel like you're reopening a very painful wound by reliving the past.

"And you chose to be a coward and abandon me. Seems fair, a war doesn't seem fair when you can just end everything with the person you say you love and walk away," Edward responds, clearly hurt. As if he could judge you.

"First, I will not accept being called a coward for doing the right thing. Sure, I could have told you the truth years ago, but lying was the safest way to prevent you from doing something reckless. And I didn't just say I loved you, I actually loved you. I loved you so much that I can't let anyone find out we were together because any member of Sam's or Jacob's pack might believe you killed my parents. And I've done a very good job defending that none of you, Cullens, would ever do something like that." The words come out of your mouth more harshly than you intended. Edward looks perplexed, perhaps never realizing that if they found out about us, they would think he killed my parents to be with me. You know he didn't do it. But the others, they don't know him well enough.

"We could have faced this complicated situation together. Do you think I wouldn't have faced the accusations and the wolves' fury to have you by my side?" Edward's words, along with his closeness, almost made you wish you had never left.

"You're impulsive sometimes. We wouldn't have survived long together if we were responsible for the pain of the people we love. Not to mention that when you and I dated, I wasn't transforming. Maybe that's why I never felt it was wrong for us to be together, but now it's different." Your conversation has taken a deeply melancholic turn, something you didn't want. A relationship discussion is the last thing you planned when you came back to Forks.

"Whether you turn into a wolf or not wouldn't change how I feel about you. It never could. I thought you knew that." Your gaze meets Edward's. You always thought he would see you differently if you transformed into a wolf. Hearing him say otherwise makes you feel things you shouldn't. Feelings you should have abandoned a long time ago.

The rain starts to pour down on you both with force, as if the heavens are watching your argument from a front-row seat. You stare at Edward, trying to understand where discussing the past will lead you. Then, suddenly, your lips and Edward's meet. You don't notice who made the first move, who stepped towards the other first. You only feel the cold sensation of his lips on yours as you deepen the kiss. Your fingers grip Edward's hair tightly while his hands gently hold your waist. Then suddenly, Edward is pulled away from you. Jacob, in his wolf form, charges at him with all his strength. Edward's body falls near the edge of the cliff, which puts you on high alert. Seeing that Jacob is about to attack him again, you know what you have to do. Your body transforms into the wolf version as you run towards Jacob. Even though Edward was taken by surprise, he is recovering when you finish transforming fully into a wolf and attack Jacob. You don't want to hurt Jacob so you decide that instead of biting him or attacking him, you would push him to fall off the cliff with you. And that's what you do. You don't feel anything for a few seconds until the feeling of falling off the cliff is too sudden for you. You start to worry about Jacob when you can't find him. Still in your wolf form, you try to swim to see if you can identify Jacob. You smell him close to where he is and see that he is unconscious. You use your mouth to hold his wolf body until there is no more water.

"Jacob if you're listening to me, I'm sorry." You speak using telepathy. You don't even know if you're apologizing for pushing him off the cliff or for this part right now. You transform into a human again and like an instinct, Jacob's body seems to have realized that for you to provide first aid, it would be better for him to be in the human version as well. You give him mouth-to-mouth resuscitation while trying to get him to stay awake. A few minutes later, Jacob wakes up, releasing some water from his mouth. He looks at you, for a few seconds seeming grateful for your help. Until we both notice that we are inappropriate. In the next second, the two transform into wolves again.

"I can explain." You speak telepathically, while Jacob remains silent. You've been following him to his house since you got out of the water. He must be too angry to speak to you, which is killing you inside. You never wanted to hurt him.

"At home." That's all Jacob responds telepathically. He must be really mad. Damn Edward for showing up then. You arrive at the Black house a few minutes later. Jacob heads straight for the shower while you look for something to wear. You shower right after him, both of you in complete silence.

"When were you planning on filling me in about your little affair with Edward Cullen?" Jacob's first words to you once you both finish getting dressed. You try to suppress the part of you that wants to lash out at Jacob for speaking so coldly to you, as if you're Edward's lover.

"To be honest, never. Though I understand why you're angry with me, I'd like to remind you that I'm a single woman. I admit my mistake in kissing a vampire committed to someone else, but none of this has anything to do with you." You speak, trying to be as cold as Jacob.

"Your father would die again if he knew you'd become the kind of person who gets involved with a vampire," Jacob says, looking into your eyes with a seriousness that honestly upsets you. He's aiming to hurt you, perhaps for what you did with him at the cliff.

"Is that what you want to talk about? Not the fact that I threw both of us off a cliff to stop you from hurting Edward? Or that I seem to favor him over you?" You also know how to hurt feelings, or at least that's what you want to demonstrate. But the truth is, you hate hurting Jacob.

"Do you love him?" Jacob asks after several minutes of silence. You move closer to him, sitting beside him. Gently, you place your hand on his face.

"I don't love him like I love you. What I had with Edward is in the past. What you saw was just two people confusing what's already gone with their current moment. Trust me," you say, leaning closer to Jacob. Part of you believes your words, but another part wonders if you're being completely honest.

"Next time you use your wolf form to attack me, I won't go easy on you. Just so you know," Jacob says playfully. You lean in, planting a soft, brief kiss on his lips.

"I'll be eagerly anticipating that moment. And know that I won't go easy on you either," you say, and Jacob smiles, kissing you in response. After the kiss, you hug him tightly, hoping that the concern about how Edward is doing after the cliff incident leaves your mind.

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just-dreaming-marvel · 1 month ago

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I'm Not That Girl ~ Bucky's Version

MAIN MASTERLIST / MARVEL MASTERLIST / MUSICAL INSPIRED FIC MASTERLIST

40's!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Word Count: 1,140ish

Request: hi lovely!! i hope you're doing well! can i request 40s!bucky with i'm not that girl? i love wicked sm haha i've seen it three times on broadway and am going to see the movie again once finals are over

Warning(s): unrequited love

“Hands touch, eyes meet

Sudden silence, sudden heat

Hearts leap in a giddy whirl

He could be that boy

But I’m not that girl”

Your heart was hammering against your chest as Bucky pulled you onto the dance floor. His smile was as big as ever, causing his eyes to shine and making you feel so lucky to be so close to him. If only you could always be this close to him.

“Come on, doll!” Bucky laughed. “Don’t make me to all the work!”

You smiled and began pulling your weight in the dance. Though the dance hall was crowded, it felt like it was just two of you. Almost anytime you spent with Bucky felt like that. The world around you both was silent and still, allowing you to lean too much into your heart.

“She’s here!” Bucky exclaimed, eyes locked on the entrance of the dance hall. “Y/N, she’s here!”

Your heart fell as he let you go and headed straight for the woman who held his heart. Dot.

“Don’t dream too far

Don’t lose sight of who you are

Don’t remember that rush of joy

He could be that boy

I’m not that girl”

“Hey, doll,” Bucky greeted with that smile heart-stopping smile.

“Hey, Buck,” you responded. “What are you doing here?”

“Can’t a guy stop by to see his best girl?”

Best girl. You always felt joy when he called you that, causing you to push aside the true meaning of that title. You weren’t truly his best girl, but his best friend aside from Steve.

“Plus, I need to talk to you,” he continued, stepping into your apartment. “I need some advice about Dot.”

“Oh, yeah, of course.” You took a deep breath as you closed the door, trying to reign in your emotions.

“I think I love her.”

Your hand fell from the handle of the door as your heart shattered. “Oh?” You turned around and headed into the kitchen to fix up a snack. You needed to focus on something else right now or you were going to lose it in front of Bucky.

“Yeah. She’s perfect, doll. Like… the best thing that’s every happened to me.”

“That’s great, Buck. What advice to you need?”

“I need to know how to tell her. How do I tell her that I love her? Do I get flowers? Tell her while dancing? Take her out to a fancy dinner—“

“Just tell her, Buck. No frills. If she loves you back, she just wants to know you love her. That’s all she cares about.”

“You think?”

You sighed. “I know."

“Every so often we long to steal

To the land of what-might-have-been

But that doesn’t soften the ache we feel

When reality sets back in”

Your dreams were the only place that the wishes of your heart came true. Bucky chose you. Bucky loved you. You were truly his best girl.

But then you would wake and remember the truth. Bucky loved Dot and Dot loved him. You were just someone in his life, for now.

It was the early morning and you had just woken up from one of your dreams when a knock sounded at your apartment door. When great caution, you went over and opened it. You were surprised to find Bucky standing on the other side. But even more surprised to find him in military uniform.

“Bucky?” You questioned. “What’s going on? What are you wearing?”

“I know that I should have told you sooner, doll,” Bucky’s voice was laced with guilt. “But I didn’t know how… I’m shipping out to England.”

“What? When?”

“Now.”

There was no point in stopping the tears.

“Hey, hey, please don’t cry,” he pled as he stepped closer, his hands coming up to hold your face. “You know I can’t stand to see my best girl cry.”

“You should’ve told me sooner,” you cried. “I deserved to know.”

“I know, I know… I just… I couldn’t stand the thought of saying goodbye to you.”

“Then don’t.”

He gave you a sad smile. “Can’t do that, doll. But… you can come see me off. I would really love it if my best girl was there.”

“Blithe smile, lithe limb

She who’s winsome, she wins him

Gold hair with a gentle curl

That’s the girl he chose

And Heaven knows

I’m not that girl”

Dot was sobbing as Bucky held her close. You and Steve stood to the side, watching the scene as military personal hurried around the shipyard. Other goodbyes were happening around you, almost allowing the scent of tears to fill the area.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” Steve whispered. He was the only one who knew of your feelings. He had figured them out just by watching you.

“It’s fine,” you mumbled, keeping your eyes on the couple. “I always knew that I wasn’t Bucky’s type.”

“Y/N—“

“Don’t try to make me feel better, Steve. I really don’t want it.”

Your heart clenched as Bucky brushed Dot’s golden hair from her face and gave her a kiss. A stray tear slipped down your face and you quickly wiped it away.

“I can’t do this,” you whispered, turning around.

“Y/N!” Steve tried to keep you there, but you weaved through the crowd before he could.

“Don’t wish, don’t start

Wishing only wounds the heart

I wasn’t born for the rose and the pearl

There’s a girl I know

He loves her so”

You hoped that Bucky would write to you, but he never did. You heard that Dot was receiving letters and small gifts. Pressed flowers, poems, drawings, and a small pearl. Every time you got an update from Steve about Bucky it was due to his letters to Dot. It only hurt you further.

One day, Dot showed up at your apartment. You were curious and allowed her to come in.

“Bucky asked me to keep this a secret,” Dot explained as she seated herself on the couch. “But I know he didn’t keep any secrets from you and I just had to tell someone!”

“About what?” You questioned.

“Bucky sent a pearl in his latest letter. With the pearl, he asked me to marry him.” And you thought your life couldn’t get any worse. “Of course, I responded with a yes. We’re going to get married as soon as he returns.”

You pressed out a fake smile. “Congrats, Dot.” Your voice wobbled. “I’m happy for the two of you.”

“I knew you would be. I feel so much better now that someone knows.”

Dot didn’t stay much longer. It was a good thing, because you weren’t in a good place. As soon as she was gone, you had collapsed into a puddle of tears. Your dream was over. Bucky chose Dot over you. He loved her and not you.

“I’m not that girl”

#marvel fanfiction #avengers x reader #avengers fanfiction #the avengers x reader #marvel fanfic #marvel imagine #avengers imagine #marvel x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x female!reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x y/n

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petrichor-idyllic · 10 months ago

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@lu-thinkingstuff I accidentally deleted the original ask (and the entire fuckin fic I'd nearly finished along with it) so have a screenshot of your ask I managed to keep. Sorry.

I'm writing this as a standalone piece, but it can be read as a prequel to quite a few of my pieces if you please.

INDOCTRINATION

MASTERLIST | MINHO MASTERLIST

SUMMARY: See above. I know the request is fem!reader, but I guess this can be read as gender neutral since I don't think I used any pronous to refer to you, apart from you obviously lmao. Follows no cannon events. I am making this shit up. Can be read as a prequel to "Life before Drowning", any other of my fitting work, or as a standalone. Whatever ya want. References to the simulation sky that's in the books - if you're reading this as a movie fic, then let's pretend this is a failed WICKED experiment.

WARNINGS: Inappropriate language, annoying WICKED shenanigans, traumatised children, Ratman.

You met Minho when you were seven. Maybe eight.

The last few weeks had been a blur of chaos you can barely remember. With the Flare finally taking its victims in your hometown, families flocked to their last resort, donating their children to WICKED.

Most children weren't picked.

Of course, they weren't. Most children aren't immune. The occasional normal child was also plucked from the masses and swept away from the warmth of their families to the cold, white walls of WICKED's laboratories. But that was rare, and they were only ever valued as a control variable in whatever twisted experiments they took part in.

Not that you ever knew that.

The potential horrors didn't matter to most parents; yours included. Mothers and Fathers desperately passing their remaining blood to men in masks in hopes of saving their loved ones. There really wasn't much choice.

You were given even less choice as you were one of the lucky ones to be picked.

A white room became your home for several weeks. They made you forget your parents - those parents who willingly passed you into Ava Paige's custody in hopes you'd have at least a fleeting chance of survival on the infected planet.

They took your name, too. Your personality. The few memories you'd managed to develop so young. All of it; gone.

You were almost in a state of shock when they finally said you could leave your pristine tiled prison cell.

Following your capture through the endless high-tech halls and flawless clean corridors, you reach a large dining hall. Several long tables fill the room, along with the high-pitched chattering voices of children. The kids vary in age - some older, some younger, but that doesn't matter. They're all talking.

"Grab your food and find a seat." The booming, hollow voice of the balding man in a labcoat reaches your ears, and you can't even begin to process what he's saying.

"W-what?" Your voice is barely a whisper as you squeak out a response.

"Join the queue, and then find somewhere to sit. Your lunch break doesn't last long." He gives you no chance to ask anything else as he turns and walks back down the corridor. Leaving you with very little choice but to continue into the room.

Getting the food is the easy bit; a tray full of a passing excuse for food and a small cup of juice. Finding somewhere to sit is the problem. You mindlessly search for an empty seat, though your gaze mainly lingers on the masked individuals lining the room; armed and dangerous.

"Psst. Don't stare. They don't like it when you stare."

Your head snaps towards a voice. An Asian boy, about your age, leans over the table top, hand cupped around his mouth as he whisper-yells at you, like he's pretending to be subtle.

"...What?" You stare back at him as a grin creeps across his face as he sits back down.

"Those freaks? Duh? Don't stare at 'em. They'll snap at you." When you don't respond, the boy starts to sense your unease. "...You gonna sit down or what?" He vaguely gestures to the empty space on the bench across from him. It takes you a second to move, but he seems relieved when you do. "You got a name?"

"Uh, (Y/N)... I think."

"You think?" He scoffs as you struggle to get your leg over the slightly wobbly bench. You think it's wobbly, or maybe you're shaking too much; it's hard to tell.

"Well, yeah - that's not my real name, is it?" Your response leaves the boy unsure how to react. You're... not wrong.

"Huh. I guess. I'm Minho." He says with a grin. "And even if it ain't my real name, they made a good choice. It suits me, right?"

For the first time since you'd arrived, you find yourself smiling. Minho is charming, for a kid. He's already got an air of confidence about him, which is almost reassuring in this situation.

"Yeah," you giggle, "I guess it does suit you."

And that is how you met Minho. Reckless, cocky, funny, brilliant Minho. And by brilliant, I mean he is a brilliantly bad influence.

It's not like you got to see him very often - just over lunch and the rare breaks you both got at the same time. But when you did, it was always fun. You even developed a little group, mainly including Minho's friends - he has enough charisma for both of you.

The first time Minho snuck into your room, you were eleven.

It's the middle of the night, the faint sounds of footsteps from WICKED guards echoing through the small white room you reside in at nights. It's all background noise, now, you barely even notice it as you drift off to sleep.

Until the loud clattering of the vent hitting the floor makes you jump out of your skin, shooting up in bed.

"...shit." Minho murmurs as he peers into your room.

"Minho?" You whisper-yell at the sudden intrusion. "What the hell are you doing?"

"I couldn't sleep." He responds, matching your tone as he attempts to clamber out of the vent and onto the safety on the floor below.

"So, you decided to break into my room?" You climb out of bed, coming to assist your best friend as he slides down your wall.

"Yeah. Figured I'd give you a visit."

You cross your arms, eyebrow cocked as you glare at your friend. "Are you insane? We're gonna get in so much trouble if you get caught." You grumble at him, swallowing your initial shock (and your small smile thanks to his presence.)

"So? What are they gonna do?" Minho dusts himself off. "Make me train more? Poke me with another needle? However shall I cope?" His sarcasm results in another eye roll from you, but you can't help but chuckle as you shove him, playfully - but warning.

"They could lock you in your room for a week." A beat passes. "Again."

"Great." He grins. "Means I get some peace. Sleep away my problems."

"You're such a dick."

"You love me, really." He flashes you another signature cocky grin.

You don't even dignify that with a response. "What exactly are we doing then? Just... hanging out in my room?"

Minho hesitates, then looks back at the vent, then you again as a sly smile slowly creeps across his face. "I think I have a better idea."

And that is how you end up crawling through a vent in the middle of the night, and following your chaotic friend through the facility. Minho is a lot calmer than you are; cracking jokes, whistling and generally being a cocky little shit. You, however, are hissing at him every thirty seconds to shut the fuck up.

Somehow, you both stumble into a vacant hall. Well, Minho dragged you through another vent and whilst he gracefully jumped down, you fell in a heap on the floor.

"Christ-" you grumble as you dust yourself off, looking around the room. It's dark, unusually so - the only light creeping in from under the locked door to the room from the buzzing halogen bulbs. "Where are we?"

Despite your low tone, Minho doesn't do much to hide his voice. "Dunno. Damn - this place is huge!" The boy chuckles to himself, dragging his hand across the wall to navigate, the sound of his words, and comfort, creeping away from your reach.

"Minho-" you say into the void, further panic swelling in your gut.

"Yo, I think I found a light switch."

Before you can object that this is a bad idea, there's a hollow click, quickly follow by a binding light.

You weren't expecting it; expecting the same dull bulbs that consume the WICKED labs. But what you get is anything but.

The entire ceiling springs to life, imitating the bright blue of the sky you haven't seen since you found yourself in WICKED's custody.

"Holy shit-" Minho gawks upwards as he stares, too, finally in your line of sight.

The fake sky is scarily realistic - the glow of the sun, the faint fluffy clouds floating across the screen. You're not even sure you could call it a screen, honestly. There's not lines, or glitches or lagging from the technology. It looks so real. Like you could reach out and feel the damp clouds through your fingers, the heat of the sun on your skin.

You look at Minho, who looks at you at the same time. Both of you have no words; how could you? But your silence and exchanges looks say everything words could - what the actual fuck is this?

"...this is.." Minho starts, losing himself quickly.

"..beautiful." You finish for him.

"I was gonna say freaky." He responds, earning a chuckle from you as you wander into the middle of the room. "Hey, there's other buttons-" He says, gesturing to the control panel on the wall that he originally assumed was a light switch.

With the click of his fingers, dark clouds start to fill the fake-sky, creating a dimmer, more stormy atmosphere. But there's no rain. Just clouds.

Those seem to be the only two weather modes as Minho keeps switching between the two. Cloudy and sunny. It's definitely not quite advanced enough to imitate the real thing.

"Look- there's a time monitor." Minho mumbles as he moves a slider. The sky dims, as bright sunset colours fill the ceiling before it creeps into dusk, and then into a series of bright stars.

Minho's goofy grin says enough as he moves away from the controls, joining you in the middle of the room. You barely even notice him until he's crouching the lie on the floor.

"What are you doing?" You raise an eyebrow at him as he moves to lay on his back, looking up.

"Star-gazing, duh. What does it look like?" He says as he smiles at you, before gesturing for you to join him.

"We're gonna get caught-"

"Will you relax?" He chuckles, leaning up on his arms. "When are we ever gonna get a chance to do this for real? Might aswell enjoy it whilst we have the chance."

"It's fake." You cross your arms defiantly.

"Still pretty. Still better than our boring white rooms." He retorts. "C'mon."

You sighs, but relent as you move to lay next to him.

He's right. It really is pretty. The mimic stars sparkle and flutter, and suddenly the labs and the experiments feel worlds away, even if your escape is an extention of your captives skills.

Minho suddenly starts chuckling.

"What? What's so funny?" You say, turning your head to look at him.

"Nothing." He shrugs. "Just thinkin' that if Thomas was here, he'd probably be telling us about all those star thingies."

"...star thingies?"

"Yeah. You know? Those... stars that are, like, in a pattern."

"...constellations?" You can't help the amused smile creeping across your face at your friends ignorance.

"Yeah- those. They got names don't they?" Minho turns to look at you. "Thomas is such a dork. He'd know all of them."

You shake your head as you look back up at the ceiling, but Minho keeps looking at you.

"We should tell the others." You say, not noticing his gaze.

"What?"

"About this room. Newt and Sonya would love this."

"I thought you didn't want to get caught?" He chuckles and you roll your eyes.

"Yeah- but this is cool. They should see it."

A beat passes as Minho continues to look at you. "Nah."

"Nah?" You look at him, surprised by this. He's rebellious and fiery and is normally the first to drag everyone into schemes and fun despite the risks.

"Nah... this is... ours." He says, smiling softly at you, before he shifts slightly to slips his fingers between yours, looking back up. "Just ours."

And that's what it became.

At least once a week, you and Minho would sneak around and into this secret special room. You'd spend hours talking and messing around, and somehow, you didn't get caught. Or maybe some of the kinder WICKED people were turning a blind eye to two kids enjoying themselves.

Who knows.

It was like this for about a year. Maybe a year and a half.

But, things took a turn.

Minho was starting to revieve praise for his athleticism. He became one of the most physically capable subjects, and it was impossible to get him away from a rigged-up treadmill. So, by the end of the day, he was exhausted. Too tired to be crawling around vents with you.

You were thirteen, maybe fourteen when Minho ended up crawling though your vents again.

Hearing the familiar noise, you're out of your bed before he's even here, your bare feet already on the cold floor as he appears.

"Minho-?"

"I know. I know." He grumbles. "I'm sorry." He says, before you can even get so much as a word in, and it leaves you stunned.

"For what?"

"For like... not being here. For neglecting you, I guess." He shrugs as he runs a hand through his hair.

"Neglect-?" You cut yourself off. "Dude, they've been working you to the bone. You don't have to apologise."

He sighs, seemingly of relief. "Yeah, well, I still feel like a dick. You're my best friend."

"Well, you're here now." You attempt to reassure him. "We can go back to the sky room."

He shakes his head. "Nah. I was thinking we could go exploring." He flashes that damn grin at you again.

"...exploring?" You raise a brow, crossing your arms.

"Yeah. Yanno- like me, Newt and Thomas used to do."

"I never joined in with that."

"Well- you should've. And we were exploring when we found the sky room, so you're no so innocent." He chuckles, and you can't help but admit he's right. Yet, he continues at your hesitation. "Look, we found that room by chance. Surely there's more cool and interesting things to find. I'm getting bored of looking at the same fake sky everyday."

Something in that comment stings. You'd never gotten bored of that pretend sky. Maybe because you'd always been with him - and you could never get bored of him.

"C'mon." He drags out the syllable. "One night of exploration. Just one. Who knows how far they'll be making me run from now on. Better take the chance whilst you have it."

You playfully shove him at this. "...fine. One time only. Okay?"

"Okay." He smiles. "Let's go."

So, once again, you find yourself creeping around the sleeping facility with your far too confident best friend.

Though, when Minho reaches a locked door, you would've never expected him to slip an excess card out of his shoe, swiping it into the card reader.

"What? Where did you get that?" You hiss, wide-eyed and stunned.

"Some dumb lab-coat dude left it on the side. So, I picked it up. Finders, keepers." He says as he pushes the door open.

Sneaky around is one thing, finding hidden rooms through vents - but stealing an ID card is something else. You're literally never going to see each other again if you get caught. Not that you get chance to voice your concerns as Minho walks into the room.

This sinking feeling creeps into your gut, yet, you can't find it in yourself to tell Minho. What if he really is starting to find you boring? Being whiney to him about this would only confirm that. You don't need him getting closer with someone else, especially not the flocks of girls in the dining hall who have started taking interest in the boy since he started his physical training.

Okay. Maybe this is creeping beyond friendship. It was years ago, but you're always thinking about the way he held your hand the first time you found that room. How it was just yours. Your special place, just for the two of you. And he doesn't want to go there anymore?

You've never felt so insecure.

So, you keep quiet.

The first room is full of labelled chemicals you don't understand.

The second is full of strange, clouded tubes, with slimy, creatures with metal arms. Even Minho was eager to leave that one - to remain ignorant for his own bliss, pulling you along once you stop to stare into the tubes. You suspect Thomas mentioned something to him. Thomas has always been Ava's favourite.

Though, the third is far less scary. It's a office - well, more like a small library with a computer and a desk. Filing cabinets liter the walls with endless documents.

Minho lets out a low whistle. "A computer." He grins, casually sliding into the office chair as he starts fiddling with the computer. Having most of the common sense in this friendship, you've assumed that the computer is password locked.

Which is confirmed by Minho's hushed cursing.

So, you start looking through the documents in the drawers. A lot of them are medical files and general testing that you don't really understand.

Though, a few documents contain blueprints and titles such as "the Maze Trails" and "The Scorch Trails". They're detailed and confusing.

"Minho-" you gets his attention, passing him the notes as he's distracted from the computer, a puzzled expression crossing his face as he looks through them.

He doesn't get much time to comment as you find another interesting drawer; labelled "Subjects."

Flicking through a few, you recognise the pictures of the people you've spent the last few years with. Teresa. Thomas. Gally.

You stumble upon Minho's- grinning at his awful mugshot style photo. A7. The Leader. They've already got him marked down pretty faithfully.

Though, something consistent through all the documents is the phrase "status: Immune." Something about that stands out to you, for some reason.

That is until you reach Newt's file.

Staus: Nonimmune. Control Variable.

Nonimmune?

Nonimmune.

"Uh, Minho-?"

"These maps are insane." He mumbles, still examining the blueprints. "Do you reckon these are those big plans Thomas is always yapping about?" He picks his head up to look at you, noticing your face drop, concern written throughout your features. "What? What is it?"

"...we're all immune to the Flare, right? That's why they're testing us. To find a cure?" You don't even look up at him.

"Yeah..? Why else would we be here?" His grin is there, same as always, but now it's uneasy and uncertain. You look at him, before walking over and slapping Newt's file onto the table.

It takes him a moment to catch on, but when he does, his face drops, and he just looks at you.

Before any words are exchanged, footsteps can be heard from down a corridor.

"Shit-" you both scramble, collecting all the papers and stuffing them in whatever drawer they came from (or whichever is closest.)

It's a mad dash to get out of the room - adrenaline and fear coursing through you both. You didn't even find your own file.

Are you immune? Could the Flare get you?

Little do you know, Minho is internally freaking out over the same thing.

In your panic, your silence evades you, which alerts whatever guard was prowling the building.

"Quick! Up here!" Minho commands as he struggles to open a vent, giving you a leg up before yanking himself up the wall and diving in.

You don't even know where you're crawling to, you're just trying to rush away. But, eventually, it goes quiet, only the sounds of yours and Minho's panting in the small vent system.

"We have to tell Newt." You say, managing to turn in the small space to face him. Minho hesitates for a moment, but nods.

Of course you have to tell him.

"Yeah, at lunch, tomorrow. We'll tell him. But right now, we have to get back to our rooms. They'll be checking." You nod in agreement. "Let's get you back first."

Minho has a far better memory than you, leading you back to the safety of the room before he turns to navigate the way back to his.

"Minho-" you say, turning to look at him once your feet hut the floor, a sense of dread overwhelming you.

"..yeah?"

You can only look at him. There's so much you want to say, but none of it want to come out. Some deep gut feeling screams at you that this is the end, but you tell yourself you're being silly.

His blank expression pushes you to talk, though.

"Just.. be careful."

He offers a warm smile, but rolls his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. I'll be fine. Don't worry about me. See you at lunch tomorrow."

Your attempt to mimic his expression falls flat as he shimmies back into the vent and on his way.

You didn't know how accurate your instincts would be.

The next day, you make your way to the lunch hall. You're late- your lab testing ended up being longer than possible. But when you enter the dining hall, Minho's absence is quickly noted.

Though, you do spot Newt. Maybe Minho's running has gone overtime, again?

"Newt-" you shout him, jogging across the hall. "Have you seen Minho? We need to talk to you."

Newt doesn't even have to say anything as he glances at Thomas, whose eyes are burning into the table in front of him. There's some sense of desperation in Newt's expression, mixed with grief and regret, but like he can't say anything.

It makes your stomach flip and your heart stop as you open your mouth to speak, but you don't get any sound out.

"(Y/N)." Janson's annoying voice sends a chill down your spine as you turn to look at him. Two guards stand by his sides, his forced grimace doesn't reach his cold, unforgiving gaze. "I need a word."

Janson gestures for you to walk with him and you swallow a lump in your throat. Your first instinct is to run. Like Minho thought you. But in a room full of people? It's not like your quiet escapades in the middle of the night.

Your feet are like concrete as you force yourself to walk towards him.

Janson walks in front of you, the guards behind you. You're trapped, and even if you did run, that wouldn't change anything as he leads you into a room. It's a room you're familiar with.

It's where you have one-on-one progress conversations with Janson to discuss how you're doing. Minho spent more time in here than you ever did, but that doesn't mean the confines space doesn't fill you with anxiety, even in normal circumstances.

You take your place in the cold chair as Janson sits across from you, the slab of metal that is meant to be a table keeping you separated feels like a godsend. Though, not much of one with the guards breathing down your neck.

"...Where's Minho?" You manage to croak, attempting to mimic your missing friends confidence.

"He's been dealt with." Janson says, and your blood runs cold.

"What- what does that mean?"

"I'm sure you already know what that means. From your adventures last night." The world stops.

You knew.

You knew it was a bad idea and your own insecurities led you to keeping your mouth shut and hiding away from your concerns. What? Because of a stupid crush? Your own feelings of inadequacy have led to Minho's demise. And it's soul-crushing.

"I-I don't understand." You words falter, any false confidence quickly shattering.

"It's a shame. Really. It is." Janson nods as he leans forward, his elbows on the table. "We let yours and Subject A7's strange relationship slide because it was showing promising results. New waves in the Killzone we were examining. I knew we should've stopped it." He sighs. "...and now, you know too much."

"Where is he?" You spit, fists clenched, unused adrenaline causing you to tremble.

"I told you." Janson hisses. "You already know. But don't worry. You're not going to remember any of this." Janson nods towards the guards.

"What-" your words catch at a sharp sting in the side of your neck as one of the masked-men injects a burning liquid into you. You gasp, grasping the side of your neck. "What have you done?"

Your words slur slightly as a dull buzz fizzles into your vision, your head feeling light.

"My job." Janson leans back as he watches you sway in your seat. "What was always going to happen."

WHOOP WHOOP. 1K BABYYYYY.

You can't even respond as your limp body slips out of the seat, and your consciousness leaves you before you even hit the floor.

I guess this is my 1k follower post - and it's angst. That's typical of me. Sorry for the massive gap since I last posted something, but everyone's support has given me a drive to write. Well, at least finish writing this. Sorry if its not everything you wanted, but I've always felt there's something so much sadder about not getting that chance to say goodbye to someone, and things fizzing out instead of a bang.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed :)

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