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angelfic · 4 days ago

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never let me go.

PART TWO ➺ series masterlist

[jason todd x reader]

summary — you’ve returned to gotham after a few years away, having left as soon as you could to escape the constant reminders of your deceased best friend, jason todd. you expected to be haunted by the ghost of him the minute you stepped foot in the city, but certainly not like this — the city you call home has much more in store than you could have imagined. warnings — childhood best friends to lovers, mentions of death + mourning, angst, mentions of blood + violence a/n; this is going to be very slow burn (if i can help it) btw. thank you for all the love so far + lmk your thoughts <3

The drive up to Wayne Manor always feels like entering another world. The chaos of Gotham fades behind you, replaced by the quiet, eerie stillness of Bristol that might be relaxing for most people. You always find yourself unsettled when you make the drive alone, your ears ringing with the silence and lack of Gotham’s noise pollution that you need to be calm.

You’re starting to think there may be something wrong with you, especially considering how you used to yearn for nothing more than to leave the place. But, like you do with most things, you push this to the back of your mind to psychoanalyse another day. Far, far away in the future hopefully.

The road winds through thick forest, the canopy of gnarled trees overhead casting ominous shadows in front of you. Now it feels more like home, you think to yourself.

Your mom’s car is sturdy enough, but getting old and the wear and tear from over the years has you slowing down as the cracked pavement gets bumpier. It’s an old road, rarely used outside of visits to Wayne Manor, and Bruce has other, faster ways of making his own trips. You’re suddenly glad for the caution you have while driving that you definitely didn’t possess when you were younger as a fox runs out onto the street and you brake suddenly. You jolt forward slightly, one hand gripping the wheel and the other reaching next to you to prevent your bag from falling off the seat, contents threatening to spill out.

The fox glances over at you for a split second before scampering off and you nearly laugh to yourself, the deja vu hitting you like a truck.

“Come on, just keep going. Faster, come on—”

“Jason, shut up!” you shout, palms getting sweaty on the steering wheel where his own cover yours in an attempt to help you steer. “If you don’t can it, I swear to God, I’ll—”

“You’ll what? You gonna turn this thing around, sweetheart?” he asks, raising a brow. “Oh, wait, you can’t— because you don’t know how to reverse.”

If you weren’t so focused on the road ahead, you’d probably hit him for being so cocky. You knew this was a bad idea from the start. When your mom had come home from the night shift and tossed her keys on the counter before going to bed and immediately knocking out, Jason had shot you that look. It screamed trouble.

Fast forward to now, where you’re sorely regretting your short-lived burst of spontaneity and trying to control your feet which are hovering awkwardly between the gas and the brake.

Jason is slouched in the passenger seat like he’s got all the confidence in the world, grinning at you and totally unbothered by the fact that neither of you are supposed to be here.

Legally, neither of you can drive. But being Robin, he now possesses quite a few skills that most people your age don’t have. Bruce had long since taught him how to drive a car for emergencies and he was now great at it. He’d driven you guys out of Gotham and towards Wayne Manor, insisting it was time to teach you and that it’d be easier where there are hardly ever any cars.

“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” you mutter, fingers gripping the wheel tighter when he lets go and allows you free rein.

Jason simply laughs at your misery, tipping his head back against the seat. “Okay, first of all — you’re being dramatic. Second, wouldn’t you rather it be me teaching you, instead of some old guy who overcharges?”

“I’m seriously debating the old guy right now,” you grumble, ignoring his offended scoff. “What the fuck, Jay! This road is not straight.”

“It’s straight,” he insists, sitting up again to actually resume teaching you. “You’re nowhere near the edge, relax.”

You listen to him, loosening up a little and realising he’s right. You haven’t drifted in a while, and you are going in a pretty straight line. You won’t admit it, but it is kind of thrilling. The hum of the engine, the way the tires respond beneath you and the peaceful sense of freedom you have surrounded by nothing but trees and Jason. You test out the gas by pushing a little harder and speeding up, partly wanting to feel more control and partly so Jason doesn’t hound you about it.

“See, what’d I say?” Jason says, leaning back again and lightly nudging you. “You’re doing great…”

A flash of fur darts in front of the car and your breath hitches.

Your hands jerk the wheel, tires screeching against the pavement from the speed you were going at and you swerve hard to the right.

Jason slams one hand against the dashboard, his other arm reaching across your front to stop you going through the windshield, despite the fact you have your seatbelt on. “Fuck—”

The car skids to a stop, inches away from a tree. The animal — a raccoon, you realise with wide eyes — scurries off into the bushes, blissfully unaware.

You sit there, trying to remember how to breathe. From the corner of your eye, you see Jason’s shoulders shaking and you realise with horror that he’s laughing.

“Holy shit,” he wheezes, wiping at his eyes. “I really thought we were dead for a second.”

“We almost were!”

“Hey, you didn’t hit it. That’s a win!” He turns to you and grasps your by the arms, shaking you slightly and releasing the tension in your shoulders from where you’re all coiled up. “And do you really think I’d let anything happen to you?”

Jason smiles at you, but his eyes are concentrated on yours, his gaze unwavering. He’s trying to talk you off a ledge, but you don’t need it, not really. You know he’d never put you in actual danger.

Still, you groan, dropping your head against his shoulder and hiding your smile. The adrenaline still hasn’t left. “I hate you.”

“Nah,” Jason replies, easily. One hand comes up to cradle the back of your head, the other resting against your back and rubbing soothing circles. His voice is teasing, but warm. “You don’t.”

No, you think to yourself. You don’t.

Your mom has kept the same car since then, and you’ve never really wished for her to change it until you remember things like that.

You’re startled to realise that the wrought-iron gates of Wayne Manor loom ahead. They rise high, wrapped in ivy, intricate and imposing. Their black metalwork centres around the ‘W’ emblem which gleams in the daylight.

You get out your phone to text your arrival, but the security system whirs to life before you can, a camera adjusting overhead. Alright then.

The gate unlocks, swinging open slowly and deliberately and as you drive forward, the massive house rises up to greet you.

Your chest feels tight.

The manor towers over you, cutting sharp edges against the bright, clear sky. The windows glow faintly, but it’s a cold kind of warmth. Too big and grand for too few people.

When you park in the circular driveway, Alfred is unsurprisingly already waiting at the door for you and you try and control every muscle in your face to not physically wince with guilt.

“Miss,” he greets you, stepping aside to let you in. His voice carries the same steady patience as always, but there’s a flicker of something accusatory in his expression as he raises a brow at your appearance. You deserve worse, considering you’ve been avoiding these visits for months.

“Hey, Alfred,” you say, offering him a sheepish smile as you step past him. He takes your coat before you can insist you don’t need him to. You should be used to these things considering the majority of your friends happen to be the adopted children of a billionaire, the billionaire’s butler and, arguably, the billionaire himself. If you’re getting technical. Unfortunately, your less than privileged upbringing seems to be so completely engrained in you, and you still bristle at the rich people antics. You step back awkwardly. “Long time, huh?”

“Quite.” He gestures for you to follow him into the house and you obey, falling into step beside him. Despite the mildly reproachful tone, he seems pleased to see you. “I was beginning to wonder if you had forgotten the way.”

Wincing, the excuse falls from your lips before you can even process the words. “I’ve just been so busy with work—” As soon as you say it, you’re grimacing, because this is Alfred you’re talking to.

If he had a nickel for every time he heard the same words from the inhabitants of Wayne Manor, he’d be able to buy his own Wayne Manor. Twice over. So, you at least have the grace to cut yourself off.

You sigh, turning to face him properly. “I’m sorry,” you say, injecting as much sincerity as you possibly can, because you are. And work has actually been busy, but you know that you could have carved out time to see Alfred. You just had a small problem with the meeting location.

You spent a good amount of time here when Jason was alive, but that wasn’t really the issue. If anything, you choose to surround yourself in spaces that feel like him — why else would you still be living in Crime Alley? Certainly not for the ambience.

After Jason’s death, you found yourself practically living here, unable to tear yourself away from his bedroom and retracing the steps the two of you would take together every time you ran around the Manor. And no one else really wanted to take you away either, taking pity on the teenage girl who couldn’t mention his name without crying for a whole year.

So, as much as you wish you could focus on the happier memories of this place, the memories of the time spent mourning your best friend seem to take priority in your brain.

Despite this, you suppose it’s time to grow up a little. It’s not like you’re having to physically fight the demons every time you step foot in the Manor, so what’s another migraine from having to fight them in your head over a couple dinners every month. You attempt a sincere smile towards Alfred. “I promise I’ll be better about visiting. I, uh… I should have come sooner, but… y’know,” you try and explain without words, vaguely gesturing to the high ceilings and polished floors.

Something in his expression softens. “Indeed.”

A beat of silence. Then, his lips twitch — just slightly and you relax.

“Well,” he says, stepping aside as you reach Bruce’s study. “I suppose there’s no time like the present.”

He nods once, before turning to walk in the direction of the kitchen, undoubtedly to make the dinner that he’s going to force you to stay and eat.

You adjust your heavy bag at your side and knock twice on the door, pushing it open when you hear Bruce calling for you to come in.

He sits at his desk, papers strewn everywhere and multiple mugs of unfinished coffee that have gone cold. He looks up when you walk in, offering you the closest thing he has to a smile — a subtle nod and a slight shift in posture that means he’s glad to see you.

“You made it,” he says, as if he was the one who invited you and not the other way around. You hadn’t had the position of Philanthropy and Outreach Co-ordinator for long, and who better than Bruce Wayne to go to when you want to ensure you’re actually doing your job at Wayne Enterprises properly. Not that it was a particularly easy task. He’s genuinely the busiest man you know and you’re lucky you were able to have a conversation with him about this that lasted longer than a few seconds.

“Shocking, I know,” you tease, dropping a folder on his desk. “Try not to look too excited.”

He huffs a quiet breath, flipping open the folder. Inside are the details for the upcoming Wayne Foundation gala — your latest, carefully curated headache. Bruce may hate the public-facing side of things, but he understands the necessity, which is exactly why he agreed to look over things for your first official project.

“This is a lot,” he says, skimming the notes. The lack of a frown on his face tells you that he’s complimenting you and you can’t help glowing inside. You feel like you’re fifteen again. “I’m sure you don’t even need me for this.”

“I just want to make sure it runs smoothly,” you say, letting out a nervous chuckle and crossing your arms, watching him. “Also, if I don’t get your input, I’ll have to deal with the board complaining about how the Wayne Foundation is ‘out of touch’ or whatever. And quite frankly, I don’t get paid enough to handle that and put up with your brooding.”

That earns you a half-smirk. Small victories.

“You’re still coming, right?”

Bruce doesn’t look up, but his hesitation is enough of an answer.

“Bruce.”

He sighs. “I’ll be there.”

You lean against the desk and attempt to stare him down. It’s a lot easier when you’re not having to physically look up at him — it was a hundred times worse when you and Jason were kids and you were practically looking up to the ceiling.

“You sure? I know how much you love playing host, but I really want this to go well.”

“I’ll manage.”

“Fantastic,” you deadpan. “That’s really the kind of enthusiasm we need to make this a huge success.”

Bruce pointedly ignores you. He flips to another page in your folder, skimming over the guest list. You watch his expression carefully, but he stays silent. He’s a man of few words, but when you’re in front of him, you seem to revert back to the girl you used to be and it’s hard to leave the silence alone.

“Well?” you ask, rocking back and forth on your feet — another old habit. You carefully selected the guest list with a whole myriad of purposes behind each individual, so you’re sorely hoping he doesn’t have a problem. “Guest list up to par?”

“It’s good,” he simply states, nodding and moving onto the next page. It’s just about decor and themes and you don’t think he has any interest in it, but he politely glances over it nonetheless. “No notes.”

You raise your brows, surprised with yourself. “What, no shady businessmen or criminals or undercover villains? You’re kidding.”

“Oh, no, there are plenty of them,” he clarifies, matter-of-fact. You deflate and he shakes his head, waving you off. “But, they’re nothing to be concerned about. They’re all major names and donors and they won’t be causing any trouble at an event like this.”

You know that he’s already run the calculations in his head, weighed the risks and is thinking five steps ahead like he always does. It isn’t the donors you care as much about. Sure, the money is a huge part of the fundraiser (It’s literally in the name. You do need the funds). However, it’s not as if Wayne Enterprises is running low on the stuff.

Your main agenda here is networking (the word makes you internally cringe a little, because God, you’re such an adult now), and while you’re not going to say no to the guests donating money, you’re in dire need of signatures. Unfortunately, Bruce doesn’t own every inch of land in Gotham, a fact that you’ve jokingly berated him for in the past. Planning permission for the children’s shelters and renovations and such that you have in mind will need the support of your seriously corrupt government officials.

Enter the bells and whistles needed to suck up to them — fortunately you aren’t too proud to use them. You’re not one of the Bats.

Still, inviting a bunch of them, littered with a whole group of hopefully normal, nice people, to your first event makes you something akin to nervous.

“Right…” you trail off, still unsure if you should be concerned or just accept it. “Good to know what the current state of Gotham’s most esteemed politicians and businessmen is. Really gives me faith in our city.”

Bruce’s lips quirk up and he closes the folder, looking up at you. Story of his life, you guess. The next words coming out of his mouth make you pause. “It looks good. You’re doing well.”

It’s not exactly Shakespeare, but it has the same effect as if he had just hugged you and recited poetry in your name. Praise from Bruce was something that never got old. You swallow, suddenly feeling an embarrassing wave of emotion come over you, but you quickly quell it down before Bruce gets awkward and doesn’t know where to look. “Thank you, Bruce. Really.”

He nods, satisfied. Although it does seem as though he wants to say something else, but appears to be struggling to find the words. Thankfully, for both of you, Alfred chooses that moment to interrupt.

“I do hope the two of you are planning to eat something this evening,” he says, standing at the door with his hands clasped behind his back. His stare makes you squirm.

You fidget, looking at Bruce who is conveniently looking through the same page in your folder he was looking at five minutes ago. “I mean, I—”

“Excellent. I’ve prepared a dinner that I’m sure will provide more sustenance than whatever processed meal you were planning to pick up on your way home.” His gaze shifts to Bruce. “It certainly trumps eating nothing at all.”

Bruce exhales. “Alfred—”

“Master Wayne,” he cuts in smoothly, already taking a step back to walk away. “I trust you will be joining us, rather than working… at the risk of being a rude host.”

You bite back a grin when Bruce frowns at you. You’ve never really been a guest at this house, so the idea of Bruce hosting you is a laughable concept that you’re sure he wants to argue with Alfred about. The attempt to stare his butler down is a good effort, you think. But futile, as it’s never been done successfully.

“…Fine,” Bruce mutters eventually.

Alfred has already set the table by the time you and Bruce step into the dining room which tells you he really wasn’t planning on leaving without the two of you. Everything is perfectly arranged, warm lighting softening the cavernous space, the faint scent of something freshly baked lingering in the air. It’s not a grand affair, but it’s practically a party in comparison to your usual takeout on the couch.

Damian is already sat there, feeding a piece of something under the table to his dog, Titus. He glances up at you, mild surprise flickering across his face before it settles back to expressionless. “I see. That explains all this.”

“Hello to you too, Damian,” you say cheerfully, pulling out a chair as Bruce does the same at the head of the table. His confusion doesn’t surprise you. It really has been a while since you visited, and it’s not as though either you or Damian hang out together on the regular. He’s thirteen years old. You aren’t that lonely.

You like to think he has a level of respect for you from a comfortable distance the same way you do. In a ‘Hey, I too, was once a misunderstood child running around this house with your deceased adoptive older brother that you never knew’ kind of way.

Damian huffs, picking up his fork. “I was in the middle of training, Father.”

“And now you’re in the middle of dinner,” Bruce says, raising a brow. “Eat.”

Damian grumbles, stabbing a piece of his food with a little too much force. “So, what is the purpose of this gala?”

You blink, not expecting him to take an interest. “It’s a Wayne Foundation event for youth outreach. I’m trying to encourage more scholarships, community engagement and all that. Get some signatures to build some more shelters in the near future.”

“And will I be expected to attend?”

“Not if you don’t want to,” you say, at the same time as Bruce who says, “Yes.”

Damian lets out a long suffering sigh. “Is Drake being forced to go as well?”

“I need him to come,” you explain, frowning. “He has connections.”

Probably the only twenty one year old in the world with the connections that you’re talking about. Damian seemingly accepts this, going back to his food without another word.

From across the table, Bruce leans back slightly and watches you. You feel like you’re under a microscope.

“You’re still living in Park Row?”

You tense. “You know I am.”

He doesn’t look away, his posture seemingly stiffer than before, if that were even possible. “You should move.”

Here we go.

You truly thought that this conversation was done with months ago. That Bruce had finally accepted you weren’t going to just pack up and leave your home just because he insisted. The Batman card wasn’t going to work with this.

You take a deep sigh, tilting your head back. “God, not this again.”

“It’s not safe.”

“It’s Gotham. Name one place there hasn’t been any trouble.”

Damian, who has been silently watching the exchange in a not-so-subtle way, chimes in. “It is a valid concern.”

You glance at him, raising a suspicious brow. “Since when do you care where I live?”

“I don’t,” he says bluntly. You don’t miss the way he exchanges a look with Bruce or how he sat up a little straighter when he mentioned Park Row. Like annoying father, like annoying son. “But you’re not exactly… equipped to handle an ambush alone.”

“Wow. Thanks,” you say, before turning back to Bruce. “I’m not moving.”

Bruce exhales, setting down his fork. No, you almost want to whine like a moody teenager getting a lecture again. Pick it up and go back to dinner and stop talking about this!

Being reprimanded by Bruce at twenty three years of age isn’t nearly as funny as it was back in the day. For one thing, Jason wasn’t here being on the receiving end of it. You were usually just there to tag along by his side hearing most of the scolding being directed towards him, with the occasional ‘I expect more from both of you.’ You sometimes felt like he just didn’t want to leave you out. Another thing being that you actually have a parent in your life who you hear enough of it from.

Bruce furrows his brows. “Your mother—”

“—is living in her nice little house in Burnley, thanks to you.” You point your fork at him. “She’s good. She’s happy. She also calls me twice a week to say I should move, so I really don’t need you doubling down.”

Bruce’s expression doesn’t change. “She’s right.”

You sigh, dropping your own fork. It probably doesn’t have nearly the same stern effect as Bruce doing it, but damn it, a girl can try. “I like where I live.”

Alfred, ever the peacekeeper, smoothly refills your glass of water. But there’s a hint of something reprimanding in his own tone as he speak to Bruce. “I believe the young Miss is quite capable of making her own decisions.”

“Hear, hear,” you say, nodding at him. You know these vigilante types are stubborn, though and you’ve been doing some light research, reading some local newsletters about that Red Hood guy you heard about the other day. You’ve barely formed an opinion about him yourself, so you don’t know why you bring him up in an attempt to sway Bruce’s opinion on Crime Alley being a safe enough place to live, but the words are spilling out before you can think twice. “I don’t think you have anything to worry about, anyway. I hear there’s some new guy hanging around and keeping people out of trouble, so…”

The mood shifts almost immediately. Bruce doesn’t look at you directly, but his hand flexes slightly before resting back against the table. Damian’s fork pauses again — not even for a full second, but enough that you catch it. Even Alfred stills, before going back to fussing around with the place settings.

“…What?” You glance between them. “What did I say?”

Damian looks as though he wants to say something, but a look from Bruce’s stormy grey eyes, which have turned hard and stern, has him turning back to petting Titus under the table. You don’t miss the way his jaw has tightened.

“Don’t worry about it,” Bruce says, allowing his shoulders to relax when no one says anything. You’re used to the weird silences around you when it comes to vigilante business. It had been going on since Jason was around, (although he would fill you in on most things privately, anyway) and it didn’t really bother you. The less you knew about things, the better. It doesn’t make this conversation any less tense though. “Just… keep safe.”

“Yes, sir,” you mumble, giving him a two-fingered salute and returning to your dinner as he does the same.

There’s a beat of silence. Then, as if on cue, Alfred clears his throat. “More vegetables?”

You drop your mom’s car off at hers, stepping in for an hour to catch up and letting her interrogate you about your eating and sleeping habits while you nod and lie, the occasional truth thrown in.

She insisted you take the car home, but after ten minutes of arguing, she’s convinced that you’ll make it to your apartment alive if you take a cab instead. You choose to omit the fact that you’re stopping at work to drop off your files for your boss to look over in the morning now that you’re happy with Bruce’s input and that you’ll walk the rest of the way home.

(You’ve got to get your steps in. Plus the weather is looking pretty good. Mental health walks are very important in the current state of the world and you like to think they cancel out the unhealthy eating and lack of sleep.)

You try your best not to walk home from work when it’s dark, because as much as your protests against Bruce and your mom may suggest otherwise, you don’t actually want to be murdered in Crime Alley.

The streets stretch out ahead of you, no longer slick with the remnants of the earlier light rain and you breathe in as much fresh air as you can before you start to enter the shadier part of town.

The buildings start to lose their shine the closer you get to home, turning older and angrier in the dark. The grime covered windows, rusted balconies and bricks, weathered by rain and neglect look like they could collapse in on you any second now. They won’t, though. They’ve been around longer than you’ve been alive.

The first sign of trouble comes as a sound.

A sharp, violent crack — the unmistakeable impact of a fist against bone.

You freeze.

Damn it, you think to yourself. Damn it all to hell, because you don’t want to live in a world where Bruce and Damian are right and you’re wrong.

You deduce that the sounds are coming from the alley across the street, which is unfortunate considering that’s the way to your apartment complex.

It’s the space between two crumbling brick buildings, half-lit by the flickering glow of a neon pink ‘OPEN’ sign hanging above a little beauty parlour that isn’t actually open, but the sign is always on. You shouldn’t look. You should just keep walking.

There’s just one little thing. If you take another route, it adds at least ten minutes to your journey and your feet are already dragging from exhaustion. So if you’re going to avoid going through your usual alley route, it’s got to be for a good reason.

You aren’t stupid. But you’re also a curious person by nature. And maybe you’re a tiny bit desensitised to these things with the crowd you tend to run with.

At least that’s what you tell yourself when you start to venture towards the noise, a single streetlamp dimly glowing overhead to light your path, revealing old cigarette butts ground into the concrete and a pile of shattered glass. There’s also something dark smeared across the concrete that, in spite of yourself, you lean in a bit closer to inspect.

The smell of stale beer, damp cardboard and the rot of garbage from the general vicinity suddenly wafts into your nose and causes a wave of nausea that has you standing straight again. That’s definitely enough of that.

At the same time, you catch sight of a figure shifting in the alley ahead of you.

It’s the Red Hood, you note with a hint of surprise.

You recognise him from your previous Google inspection, the blurry pictures not doing much justice to his imposing figure, but it’s definitely him.

He’s taller than you expected. Broad-shouldered and solid. His black leather jacket shifts as he exhales, head tilting just slightly like he’s considering something as he looks down.

There are four guys. Or at least, four bodies. Two of them are on the ground, unmoving and the other two don’t look much better. One is spitting blood onto the pavement, another is trying (and failing miserably) to push himself upright. He groans something unintelligible. If Red Hood responds, you don’t hear it.

Instead, he shifts his weight, combat boots scuffing against the cracked concrete. He doesn’t look tired or out of breath and when he’s stationary, it’s a deadly stillness.

When he does move, the neon glow catches on his helmet, the deep red gleaming like fresh blood. You have to give it to him — it takes a really frightening figure to not look silly under bright pink lighting. You suppose the rusted fire escape to the side of building helps the image, considering the lowest rung is bent at an odd angle. There’s a man lying unconscious beside it. You can put two and two together.

Red Hood straightens, rolling his shoulders and breathing steadily. He looks at you.

Your pulse jumps. You should move, should pretend you didn’t just stop in the middle of a dark and creepy alleyway to gawk at a violent fight scene. Well, the end of one anyway.

But you can’t find the will to move your legs. From fright or something else, you aren’t sure. But there’s something about the way he stands; relaxed, but coiled beneath the surface, like a predator that hasn’t decided if it’s ready to pounce or not. His fingers flex at his sides before curling back into loose fists, and then he moves.

Not towards you, or anything in particular. Just a slight shift of weight, as if registering your presence and deciding not to acknowledge it further.

You take that as your cue to leave and take the long way home, tearing your gaze away from the white gleam of his eyepiece and slowly backing up. You’re still not running, just walking at a leisurely pace and trying to control your breathing until you get back onto the main sidewalk. It isn’t until you’re walking past other people that you feel like you can relax your shoulders and actually start thinking about what you just saw.

In hindsight, your survival instincts probably need some work, but hey — he’s meant to be a vigilante. Sure, you shouldn’t believe everything you read online, but if you can’t trust Google, then what hope do you really have.

Maybe it can’t hurt to look at some of those apartment listings that Tim is always sending you.

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lust4lore · 1 year ago

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(finnick + cockwarming pretty please i’ll give you my firstborn child)

anon, i’m in love with you. take all of the forehead kisses. all of them. (btw, call me when that child is born!)

A/N: originally, this was gonna be something where reader and finnick are at a party and it’s kind of public, he’s a little meaner, but i think voyeurism as well as denying his girl anything she wants is a little ooc for him so i chose this instead. i still have the outline of the og, though, so if you’d be interested in reading that and are willing to excuse it lmk!

CW: cockwarming— mind you, fluffy cockwarming, because it’s finn!

MDNI, not proofread i cba 😔🫶

finnick odair would do anything for you. shit, he’s braved hell and back twice just for the chance to catch a glimpse of you again. you’re his world, the love of his life, and the last thing he wants is to see you upset.

which is why, when you entered your shared bedroom with a quivering bottom lip and glistening eyes, he dropped everything immediately.

“hey, hey, sweetheart, what’s wrong?” he had asked gently, brows pinching together as concern started seeping in. he beckoned you over to where he sat with open arms, and you gladly went. he pulled you onto his lap, warm hands cupping your face as he searched your eyes for any indication of what the problem could be. “talk to me,” he murmured, anxiety forming a pit in his stomach when you didn’t give him an immediate response.

it had been a long day. all the noise, all the people, all the feelings had gotten to you, and you just needed finnick. needed to turn off your brain in the way only he could. “jus’ had a busy day, too much going on and-” you sniffed, looking up into those sea green eyes and feeling a distant pang of guilt at the panic that was rising in them. “i need you, finn,”

realization flickered across his features and his lips parted before he pressed them together again, his gaze shifting from worried to conflicted. finnick never found it easy to deny you anything— and this wasn’t even something he wanted to say no to— but he had deadlines to fulfill, things that he couldn’t put off any longer. you knew that, you did, but you really were aching for whatever piece of him you could get.

and so, you end up here, still sat in his lap as he slowly presses into you, a quiet whine falling from your lips at the stretch. your face buries itself into his neck, hands bracing his shoulders. “finn,” your voice comes out strained and desperate, just above a whisper as you sink down onto him. “m’right here, sugar, i got you,” his hands rest on your hips, lightly squeezing them in encouragement. you continue to whimper as you take the rest of him, adjusting to the size. “i know, honey, i know,” he soothes, one of his hands coming up from your hips to rub your back.

a few minutes in, you’re a bit more mollified. your thoughts come to a slow, sticky pace, and suddenly, nothing seems so loud anymore. all that’s left in your head is finnick finnick finnick and the comfortable weight of him inside of you. “this what you needed, pretty girl? feel better?” his voice is low against your ear and you give a small nod, because yes, it’s exactly what you needed, but your words are kind of failing you at the moment.

you stay like that for god knows how long, his arm wrapped around your waist as he continues to work, your forehead resting on his shoulder. eventually, though, you shift a little, and it’s just enough to cause his cock to graze that sweet spot inside of you. his muscles tense underneath you as you tighten around him and he makes a sound in between a sigh and a groan, picking you up as though you weigh nothing. “what’re you doing?” you ask, your voice soft and dazed as he sets you down on the bed, hands slipping underneath your shirt and roaming further up as he starts trailing kisses down your neck. “taking care of my girl,” he tells you, and, well,

you’ll have to start having bad days more often.

#𓇼 indigo writes!#𓇼 blurburburb #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair #finnick x reader #the hunger games #finnick odair headcanons #finnick odair smut #finnick imagine #thg finnick

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gogotti · 4 months ago

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Simon “Ghost” Riley/Fem! Reader NSFW

Thinking thoughts…..thinking so many thoughts. This is very self indulgent btw 😚 (that’s why it’s she/her instead of “you”). This also isn’t my typical style I just wrote this out so fast cause I NEEDED this to live in more than just my head lmfao

Warnings: ghost being kinda weird, obsessed!Ghost, breeding mentions, reader gets head, massage with evil intentions lmfao, this man is way to happy to have a wife

Ghost who’s just a bit too obsessed with the new seargent on the team, who constantly makes sure he’s the one who delivers her paperwork so he can point out the silly little decorations in her office, just so he can learn the name of her desk pets or hear the story behind the figurines and funkos strewn about. He makes sure to get her favorite coffee order once he learns what it is (he definitely didn’t snoop around in her morning trash after kindly offering to take it out), and always makes sure to get some snacks along with it.

He stands a bit too close to her and makes her look up at him over the rims of her glasses- she looks so pretty batting her lashes up at him (she’s literally just blinking). It gets to the point that he leans over her desk while she’s typing away, so focused on her work but making sure to look at him every once in a while as he rants about god knows what. Speaking of, shes so much shorter than him so he gets away with staring at her lips as she rants about some pissy lieutenant on base or the recruits she has to train. He makes sure he doesn’t get caught lecturing them or yelling their ears off in her honor.

He absolutely starts picking up some of her slang and using it mid sentence just to see her face twist in confusion when he uses it wrong or amusement because he uses it at all. Absolutely pretends to not hear her say something just so he can hear the frustration in her pretty voice as she repeats it for the 3rd time (he’s ears aren’t what they used to be, love, that’s all). Loves aggravating her, misplacing things in her office, eating the last of her snacks, all so he can hear how angry she gets when she notices or how whiny she gets when she sees the wrapper in the trash. (Dammit Johnny, how could you do that to her?)

It all begins to overflow when they’re assigned an undercover mission together, newlyweds in a nice gated neighborhood. Unfortunately for them the security feeds in the house are all monitored by the very people they’re trying to expose, so not only do they have to be all lovey dovey in public but also behind closed doors. He takes the news so much better than she (or Laswell for that matter) thought he would and he makes it very very apparent on the drive there that he’s going to make her feel oh so special. He doesn’t hesitate to book hair and lash appointments, he wouldn’t dare forget her nails either (especially not her toes, he’s definitely making sure he has something pretty to suck on).

He knows his restraint is gonna be tested when she greets him at the front door after work, the house smelling like a good home cooked meal, and a pretty apron still tied around her waist. It takes everything in him to not bend her over the countertop and take her when she starts making his plate, all he can do is slowly untie her apron and place it to the side, thanking all the higher powers for his patience.

He can’t stop himself when he comes home late one night, exhausted from hard labor and finding her laid out so nicely on their bed, one of his shirts covering her slightly, just enough for her pretty panties to peak out from underneath. He just plops himself down on her legs and feigns giving her a massage, ignoring her protests that she should be giving him the massage. He lies through his teeth about knowing all the chores she did, and being so proud and thankful and oop…

Well of course he’s gonna be hard when she’s making all those pretty noises as he gets that nasty knot out of her lower back, and he’s also so pent up because he’s been so stressed lately from work and today was extra hard because of this, that, and the third. It doesn’t take long for him to start humping her like a fucking animal, grunting and growling as his stiff cock soaks his work pants with precum. God, her ass is so soft and he could only let the mental image of the recoil fuel his desire further; now hooking an arm under her plump waist and pulling her into him harder than necessary but how else would he give her a sneak peak of what he’s gonna give her later. He knew his cum was leaking through and soaking her panties and he couldn’t give less of a fuck, the only thing crossing his mind was the thought of the little wet spot she’d have herself.

Well, he’d definitely think about making it worse as he ate her out through her panties, listening to his pretty little pup’s whines as she begged him to take them off, to play with his puppy the right way. He couldn’t tell her no, god he’d be so good at following orders, ripping off her underwear so quick and going to town on her pretty cunt. He would make the most obscene noises, all the slurping and sucking, his heavy pants as his tounge greedily lapped at her pussy (you’d think he was the pup with the whines he’d let out when she shoved his head closer).

He’d make her cum three, four times with his tounge, all while pathetically humping the bed. He’d bury himself in her cunt, finally letting her close her thick thighs around his head and suffocate him while he came hard. He isn’t finished of course, now he needs to bury his fat cock in her, make sure he doesn’t waste his next load becuase he needs to breed his pretty wife. So what, if this was a 4 month mission, she signed the papers, fake names or not, she was his pretty little housewife. He wouldn’t stop if she was tired, hell he was fucking exhausted already but none of that mattered, she needed to be satisfied, filled to the brim with cum because he can’t believe he made his wife wait this long for a good ol’ fashioned fucking. He should have fucked her stupid the day he brought her home, all wrapped up in that pretty wedding dress that hugged every single last one of her curves in a way that made him fist his cock that night in the shower.

He’d repay his debts, make sure her cunt was filled as she fell asleep next to him. Then he’d kiss her puffy pussy in the morning, whispering meaningless apologies because he was NOT sorry; he’d make her breakfast in bed and make sure to bring a painkiller on the way back to their room, he could only imagine how sore her thighs were too.

#simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #simon riley smut #cod smut #cod x reader #call of duty #ghost cod #ghost x reader

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spiderlot · 1 month ago

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hot to go! — RHIANNON LEWIS

— pairing: pregnant!rhiannon lewis x afab!reader

includes smut. repost. just thinking about pregnant rhiannon again. based on the books.

thinking about pregnant!rhiannon who always goes to the little shops along the seaside and pretends like she's gonna buy something just to get away from jim and elaine. god bless them but sometimes they just get too doting and it's annoying.

and good god is she ever horny. even the goddamn carrot jim cuts up for dinner gets her horny. she just needs something inside of her now or she might die. she's resorted to flirting with the mailman in hopes of getting some but she thinks her visible bump is getting in the way.

but, she does notice this cute grocery bagger who always stares at her tits when they check her out (that's you btw). she absolutely relishes in the attention. at first, she thought you might've had a pregnancy kink because no one in their right mind would ogle her body in this state. i mean, she's got dozens of pimples lining her face, her nipples look like they belong on a pepperoni pizza, she's gained about 10 pounds and she's given up on makeup. there must be something wrong with you.

at this point, she doesn't care. you seem to check all the boxes for her. she knows you're above the legal age (she overheard you talking about college classes with your manager, something about rescheduling for next week) and that's all she needs to know before she pounces on you.

she makes her move the following day.

she wore her brightest and tightest white shirt with no bra that day. it's tight enough that it turns into a crop top and shows off her growing belly along with her constantly hard nipples, something she thinks you'll appreciate. she strolls in, heading straight towards the register she knows you always work at and frowns when you're not there. ugh, time looking for you equals less time fucking. now she's pissed at you. she feels something throbbing down there still...

she decides to grab a cart and do some light shopping. maybe you'll miraculously appear like you always do and come save the day by eating her out in the middle of the dairy aisle. god, she can feel her wetness squelch as she walks just from thinking about you. she wonders what the fine would be for public masturbation. she seriously considers it.

like superman, you appear just as she almost gives up and tries again tomorrow. you walk out of the back and head towards your register, turning your light on. score. she leaves the half-empty cart full of random shit she dragged in and practically jogs toward you. baby didn't like that. she halts, the sound of her sneakers making a loud squeaking sound as she grabs her stomach in pain. this little fucker kicks really hard, dammit.

you look toward the noise and see her; the woman of your dreams. she's been coming in for a few weeks now. you've never seen her here before, and you practically know all the townspeople by name. you have developed a tiny crush. okay, maybe tiny is an understatement. it's a massive crush. you don't know if she has awoken something inside of you, but you've never liked the body of a pregnant woman like you have hers. she's so beautiful. she's creating and holding life inside of her and okay, you know what, maybe you do love her tits and her hard nipples that you always notice through her shirt more than anything. and god, when she wears her hair in a ponytail? you'd get down on your knees in an instant for her if there weren't a dozen security cameras around.

you can't think about that right now though, there's a pregnant woman in pain!

you rush toward her, standing awkwardly with your hands hovering over her arms. "shit, uh, are you okay? do you need me to call someone?" you watch her exhale shakily and wonder if you're about to help this woman give birth right now. you're only an hour into your shift, you can't do this shit. "do you need to sit down?"

she nods, letting you lead her over to a bench near the front area, sitting her down and still, awkwardly hovering over her. don't stare at her chest, don't stare at her chest, don't stare at her chest. you check your phone while she calms down and blush and chuckle at her attempts to flirt with you.

"i guess the baby really likes you. so do i."

"are you talking to me or my breasts? because i don't mind either one."

you really need to work on your eye contact.

"i'm okay now. she was just kicking like crazy in there," she tells you. she still feels a bit lightheaded, but she's unsure if it's because of the kicks or because she's sitting so close and can practically feel the hormones wafting off of you. "i was actually looking for you."

"you were? what for?" you ask, turning your body to face her, quickly glancing at her exposed midriff.

"i was going to drag you out to my car and ride your face but i couldn't find you." her face is completely blank as she says this. she almost breaks and laughs when she hears you choke on your spit, but just gives you a raise of her eyebrows and tilts her head. "I'm serious."

you swallow hard and can't even open your mouth to say, "yes! fucking hell, yes! take me out to your car and have your way with me! i love you!" so you do the next best thing which is to make an embarrassingly whiny noise from the back of your throat and nod.

so here you are, getting situated in the back of rhiannon's truck as she lies you down and peels off her clothes. it's uncomfortable as hell, but you're not about to say anything and potentially ruin this for yourself. you sit up on your arms and watch her perky breasts bounce as she kicks off her jeans and underwear, your eyes locked in a trance. you're suddenly pushed back down and grunt at the force, smiling a bit at her eagerness.

"ready?" she places her legs on either side of your body and scoots her way up. your breath quickens as you see her pussy get closer and closer to you, and jesus fuck, you nearly cum on the spot when a drop of her wetness dribbles down and hits your chin. before you can even answer her, she slams her cunt onto your face and begins riding. "oh my god." she gasps, nails digging into the car seat and scratching it up.

you moan into her delicious pussy, licking up every last drop of her wetness like you're starving. you reach up and blindly grab for her chest, gripping onto her tits like they're your lifeline. rhiannon purrs when you begin massaging them, grinding her pussy down harder into your face and bouncing on your tongue. you flick and tug at her huge nipples, brows furrowing slightly when you feel some liquid come out of them.

"that's never happened before," she pants, eyes fluttering from the feeling. "but, fuck, keep doing it." she doesn't give you a choice either way, her hands come up and keep your hands on her chest, rubbing them with you.

"i might have to take you back to my house," she says breathlessly, head tilted back as moans spill from her mouth. "keep you locked up in the basement and only use you when i need to get off. bet you'd like that wouldn't you?"

you whimper in response, nodding your head against her pussy and pulling her even deeper into your mouth. you feel her clench around your tongue and grin. opening your eyes slightly, you get a faceful of her belly but you can see her sweaty face above it, drool all over her chin, and eyes shut in pleasure.

as if she can sense you, she opens her eyes and looks down.

"make me cum and i'll take you back home."

#my fics #sweetpea x reader #rhiannon lewis x reader #rhiannon lewis x you #rhiannon lewis #mdni

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vultbae · 9 months ago

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water and oil ✩

tashi duncan x female reader blurb

↳ summary: the two female college tennis archenemies play against each other.

↳ warnings: angst, being closeted.

↳ notes: english is not my first language pookies! also, I couldn't believe there aren't almost any Tashi fics??? and happy pride! not proof-read btw

word count: 1.1k

An ear-piercing scream rips through the air, slicing through the ambient noise of the tennis court like a knife, instantly making your body freeze. Your chest aggressively compresses as you watch your lifetime opponent, Tashi Duncan, fall on her back and crumple to the ground in agony, hands clutching her injured knee as if trying to hold herself together.

Everything has diverted into penetrating silence, and you feel your racket gradually slipping from your fingers, the once-familiar weight slipping away unnoticed as you stare at Tashi Duncan with shock and a rigid, fast-pounding heart. Her face is a torturous portrayal of suffering, with knitted eyebrows and a constant audible sob escaping her lips.

You can't —or are incapable— of moving a muscle; they have locked themselves with a key you forgot where you placed. Instead, you stare with tears brimming at the corners of your eyes, threatening to spill over but held back by sheer will. Suddenly, the sour mutterings from the crowd began to stab the thick fog of your shock. At first, the voices were just a faraway hum, but soon, the words became crystal clear.

"Why isn't she helping her?"

"Look at her—she doesn't even care. She will win by default."

"They hate each other; she won't help."

You are aware that the public perception of your rivalry with Tashi is intense, fueled by years of competitive clashes on and off the court. So, technically, they aren't wrong. You kind of hate each other, at least publicly. Even college recruiters had recognized early on that your rivalry was too severe to coexist on the same team—you for UCLA and Tashi for Stanford. You are polar opposites in playing style and temperament, each embodying traits that clash rather than complement.

While other tennis players in your age group get praised for their ability to work beautifully together, Tashi and you resemble more water and oil.

And water and oil don't mix.

Your heart sinks further as your gaze shifts from Tashi Duncan to the male figure now hysterically rushing onto the court. He is tall and good-looking, with blonde curls and an exaggerated expression of concern that you find melodramatic and infuriatingly genuine all at once. Recognition dawns upon you like a dark cloud—Art Donaldson, the young tennis promise Tashi had been talking to lately, also from Stanford.

The sight of Donaldson crossing onto the court, jumping over the net without hesitation, and acting like a wannabe hero stirs a mixture of sour emotions within your core—jealousy, resentment, and a deep sense of helplessness. Of course, it makes absolute sense Tashi Duncan is dating a handsome, talented tennis player from her same school... and guess what? He came to the rescue! You internally cringe at the horrid thought of everyone applauding him for caring for your girlfriend.

The crowd's accusatory murmurs continue behind your back. Your fists clench at your sides, nails digging into your palms as you follow Art Donaldson's silhouette kneeling beside Tashi's body with eyes filled with hostility and envy. You watch as he gently takes Tashi's hand in his, his facial expression softening as he murmurs charming words of reassurance to the girl deliriously in pain. You can't tolerate it. You stay there, still torn and immobilized, with your mind racing and endeavoring to decide what to do.

"Sometimes I wish I was a dude," you murmured, voice barely above a whisper in the quiet of Tashi's dimly lit college dorm. Tashi's fingers lightly brushed through your hair but abruptly stopped. "If I was that Patrick dude or the other blonde guy, my life would be ten times easier."

You heard her sigh.

"But you wouldn't be as good at tennis," Tashi softly replied, and you could tell she was avoiding conflict at all costs.

A beat.

"But I would have you," you said, turning your head to face Tashi, whose expression remained reflective and contradictory as she stared into the soft glow of the lamp lying on her night table. "I promise that's all that matters to me, Tash," you reassured.

Your eyes met, each with equal sorrow and frustration. Tashi broke eye contact first.

Tashi knew that picking arguments with Patrick was very easy, and she didn't have the urge to speak of anything else annexed from tennis and sex with him. You somehow managed to actively amuse her with conversations regarding your crusty dog back home, the food you have tried when you travel abroad, and everlasting anecdotes that provoke you to giggle and steal a genuine smile from Tashi's lips every single time.

And it wasn't too long after you exchanged your first words in private for her to realize she loved you. But not in a chummy way. Tashi romantically loved you.

But she never said it. Tashi just guessed you would assume she maniacally loved you, and you would satisfy yourself with that.

But the belief of Tashi loving you felt unimaginable in situations like this.

And now, the panorama of them together reflecting a couple straight out of a film—Art's concern etched on his face, Tashi's distress requiring attention—served as a stark, fucking bitter reminder of the captivating image they could market for years. They look perfect, they look—right.

So, why bother ruining Tashi's career? If her key to branding conquest is right there, kneeling next to her aching body in the form of a six-foot gorgeous tennis player.

In that rare moment of clarity, you make a sore, silent vow to honor your secret, to continue navigating the labyrinth of hidden tenderness and affection if Tashi doesn't decide to drop you after this.

But, as you are one intrusive thought away from stepping out of the court —or, better said, escape— Tashi's hazel orbs, flickering with anxiety and in between dried and brand-new tears, disembark on your outline. Internally, she wonders why you cry —at least as much as her, and you wish you could clarify is because you feel powerless. You are powerless.

Tashi stares one, five, fifteen, thirty seconds. She doesn't quit. You stare back. Encircling her, the Stanford medical team consoles her and provides instructions to which she doesn't pay attention. To her right side, and almost covering the view of her, the blonde guy starts to question what —or who— she is looking at.

You mouth, "I love you."

Tashi's eyes widen slightly in surprise, and you can see that little pout of hers appearing over her lips.

Art turns to track Tashi's gaze, falling over you.

And when he's not looking, Tashi mouths back.

"I love you too."

And that's what matters because no one else needs to know that water and oil can mix.

#tashi duncan x reader #tashi duncan #challengers fic #challengers #x reader #fic #fanfic #art donaldson #patrick zweig #challengers fanfic #patrick zweig x reader #art donaldson x reader

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fashionteahouse · 4 months ago

Note

Hey I was wondering if I could make a request for the out of your league story. I’m curious about what Sam and Jared’s reaction to Paul imprinting. Because of the history Sam has with imprinting on someone else when he had a fiancé. I’m interested in seeing what his reaction to Paul imprinting on the person he already wanted to be with. I feel like Sam would’ve warned him to stay away from her so Paul wouldn’t have to deal with breaking up with her and it maybe causing drama that could trigger Paul to phase. I guess I’m also interested to know what was going on with Paul in the weeks where they weren’t talking and he had just phased. If you can’t do it it’s completely fine it just intrigues me.

hii i would LOVE to make this <3 btw i love it when u would comment on my out of your league posts hope you enjoy :)

out of your league scenario (paul’s version) - paul x reader

AN: it’s helpful to read out of your league part 3 for context <3

The bell was loud. Everything was loud. He was irritated. He just couldn’t understand the heightened sense of hearing. He cringed at the noises and rubbed his ears from time to time.

He already knew what would make him feel better. The teacher’s voice was loud and clear but the horseplay that was happening near him was annoying him. The overlapping noises was pissing him off by each second.

He eyed the clock as he counted down the noisy bell, he wanted to get it over with. It was the last class before lunch, meaning you can be near him and he needed that right now.

He braced himself as the bell ring out and he made his way out of the classroom door to walk to your class but the same guys who were acting goofy, was still tussling around in front of him.

“Move out of the fucking way.” he hissed at them. Annoyed wasn’t even describing all of what he was feeling.

A guy turns around and says without worry, “Chill the hell out.”

The boy is shoved forward before he could fully turn back around. One sentence pissed Paul off, his anger boiling over the brim.

The boy stumbled but didn’t fall so he was able to look at Paul, with knitted eyebrows, “What’s wrong with you?” the boy demands.

Paul steps closer, bawling up his fists to the nasty tone the boy in front of him was using, “You.” he states. He dared him to do something. A fight at the moment was something he was itching for. He felt like something was trying to claw through.

The boy who was under Paul’s scrutiny made one mistake and that was to give him a shove back, he didn’t want to be embarrassed in front of his friends.

It only made him feel a powerful blow to the chin, making him fall backwards and Paul is pounced right on him. Not missing a beat. His fists pour out all of the anger, all of the frustration, and everything that he was feeling. It was like he was in a trance. He wanted to pulverize this boy’s face.

He felt a group of hands pull him off. Saying things of, “Come on, before the teachers come.” and “It’s not worth it bro, come on.”

Attempts to calm him down and speak logic to him, didn’t work as Paul shrugged them off, giving them his own looks of death. They give him the respect of backing off, they didn’t want their faces to look like the boy that was currently on the ground.

Paul was fuming. All thoughts couldn’t be contained as he flew down the school stairs, using an exit door that was in the stairwells and pushed it open.

He felt hot. He even caught himself making small snarls.

“The fuck?” he thought as he panted out.

He seen a tall figure slowly walk toward him. Paul straightens up and looks at him weird. He noticed the man had no shirt and no shoes, just a pair of shorts.

The man crossed his arms as he looked at with expectancy.

“What? Do you want to be next?” Paul says to him, stepping forward.

“Paul, calm down. I’m on your side.” the man with a deep voice says. The voice was full of maturity as he looked at the young boy in front of him who was currently fighting his next transition.

“How the hell you know my name?” Paul demands, a bit freaked out since he ran in different circles as this man. He was clearly older. He only seen his face on pictures when the reservation was actively looking for him. His fiancée, Leah Clearwater, was frantic in finding him.

“I’ve been watching you for some time.” the man explains.

“Watching me for what? Who the fuck are you?” Paul asks with bass in his voice, he demanded answers.

“Sam. We should go back to your place, there’s too many eyes here.” The man named Sam, answers.

“I’m not going anywhere!” Paul stubbornly answers. He started walking in the direction to go home but Sam didn’t know what else to do. Paul was shaking and trembling.

He made it home. His father came home on a lunch break and saw his son’s shoes at the front door. He almost tripped over them. His father angrily pushed open the door.

“What the fuck are you doing fighting at school?! Guess what, you got suspended!” His father demands and says to him in a newsflash, his fist balled up, his face was frowned.

Paul rises from his bed and did nothing but look down at his father. His father noticed the height difference quite a bit, but he was still adamant about showing his son who’s the parent and who’s the child.

“Are you just going to look at me stupid?” His father asks again and nudged his head back hard with his fingers.

Paul pushed pasted him out the room. He was reaching towards the back door. He didn’t want to deal with the hell that was about to come. He’d rather just leave and sneak back in.

The figure who stood strong in his backyard, pissed him off even further. Shutting the door behind him, he stalked towards the man who was at his school earlier.

Sam, had his arms crossed in an unbothered manner. He hoped his plan to bring Paul’s wolf out in that instant would work. He could see it trying to claw out. He displayed the cockiest smirk he could muster up.

“I would break up with Y/N if I were you.”

That statement alone flew Paul into the air, tiny particles of clothes floating around him. Sam fluidly transformed into his own wolf form as Paul’s jaw snapped at him. Sam only saw black and darkness in Paul’s mind. Nothing but pure anger.

“Paul, calm down.”

Sam ordered Paul. Paul tried to fight it but the weight of the alpha’s command was too strong, forcing him to kneel to submit. Paul still growled a bit and tried to bawl his fists up. He looked down and his eyes almost came out of his sockets.

He saw claws. He saw silver fur on his arms. He looked at the large dark wolf that was over him.

“Wake up. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up.”

Paul chanted with his eyes closed. He hoped that he would wake up and breathe out a sigh of relief of how crazy the dream he had was.

“Paul, you’re not dreaming.”

Sam says to him through his mind.

“What the fuck did you do to me?!” Paul demands.

“I didn’t do anything. Paul, the legends are true. Do you remember them?” Sam encourages.

Paul did remember bits and pieces. He felt a wave of nostalgia as his time in Tacoma flooded his brain. As he then thought back to when his mother would tuck him into bed, the hazy womanly voice softly speaking the history of the tribe. How there were protectors to keep the scary monsters away. He missed her. He could barely remember the sound of her voice. He thought back to how when he was a bit older, when he moved to La Push with his father and how he would take him to storytelling events at the beach. His father’s good friends would tell the stories. He just remembered how Taha Aki was of importance, his elders stressing the fact. He remembered how he was told that Taha Aki was the leader of the Quileute tribe.

“We’re the protectors now.” Sam tells Paul.

Paul became sad. He whimpered a bit at the thought of having to be a large wolf for the rest of his life. His mind started going towards how you would never be able to see him again.

“Paul, you can still be human. Just be calm. Just think of something happy.”

Paul tried to rack his mind of cute puppies but he didn’t want to kid himself. You were in the forefront of his brain as he felt the shimmer of the waves around him dissolving. The day you stood in his bedroom as he kissed you. The serenity he felt when he sat with you on the beach. Before he knew it, he was on the ground naked, as the day he was born.

Sam threw him a pair of shorts and pulled his own up. Paul walked behind Sam as he heard the sharp chirps of birds and the loud crunches of the broken tree branches that were being stepped on.

Paul felt a bit exhausted. He felt most of all, hungry. His stomach growled and Sam chuckled.

“Don’t worry, Emily made us something.”

Before questions could leave Paul’s mouth, he smelled the enticing scent of cooked food swim in his nose.

Sam walks into the warm home, stealing a kiss from the dark long haired woman. She giggled at the affection he was showing her. Sam steps to the side and introduces them two to each other. Emily was polite. Paul was not.

Paul just stood at her as she gave him a smile.

Sam caught wind of this, knowing exactly what Paul was thinking. He wasn’t stupid. Sam gives Emily a tiny look and Emily picked it up. She caught the idea.

“I’ll be back. I have to grab something.” she says as she leaves the room.

Sam sits down at the table. Paul still stands. Sam extends an arm, gesturing for him to have a seat.

“You’re done with Leah?” Paul asks as he pulled his seat back.

“Yeah.” Sam answered sadly.

“So, you just go and fuck her cousin, huh?” Paul says with a snort.

Sam gives him a look.

“You have to break up with Y/N.” Sam says. Paul’s nostrils flare as his chair almost falls back from his quick movement out of the chair.

“The fuck is your problem?” he roars.

Sam just stands to tell him to have a seat but Paul pushed him back down. Before Paul could blink, Sam is up out of his seat, grabs the back of his neck, gripping it with so much force, his strength was undeniable. Sam grits his teeth.

“Sit down and I will tell you why.”

Paul sits flops down in his seat with the help of Sam’s force. Paul was seething.

“When you phase, the spirits will gift a wolf an imprint. A soulmate. To ground the wolf and balance them out. It’s rare, however but, Emily is my imprint.” Sam explains.

“Does Leah know?” Paul asks.

“She knows I’m not missing. She doesn’t know my wolf exists.”

Paul doesn’t say anything as he looked at the structure of the table. “Good thing imprinting is rare.” he thought to himself.

“That’s why you have to break up with Y/N, Paul. I said what I said earlier to get you to phase but now, I’m saying it because Leah loathes me and Y/N will hate you forever. What happens if you imprint?”

“I thought imprinting was rare.” Paul asks.

“Yes, but you just can’t risk it.“

Paul shakes his head as he rises up, “I’m not breaking up with Y/N. If I imprint, I will fight it.”

“You can’t fight it. It’s the person that both the man and the wolf need!” Sam desperately tried to tell him but, Paul was stubborn as he shook his head again.

“I will fight it!” Paul says again, getting agitated.

“You’d think if I could fight it, I would? I tried! It only made the pain of being away worse! I loved Leah. Shit, I still love her.” Sam says but, he whispers out the last part.

“Y/N is my only source of normalcy! I didn’t ask to be turned into a big ass wolf! Nobody is taking her away from me!” Paul says. He reached for the door. Sam didn’t want to, but he had to.

“I order you to not be in contact with Y/N.”

Sam ordered him. Paul hated him. He burst out of the house, not caring that pair of shorts that was loaned to him was into shreds.

He spent the first two nights in the woods. Thoughts of letting you go was making it hard to shift back.

He heard the voice.

“Come on, Paul. You gotta phase back.”

He knew that voice.

“Jared? It got you too?” Paul asked in disbelief.

“Yeah the wolfie disease caught up to me too.” Jared says, being able to laugh in the mind link.

“Have you seen Y/N?”

Jared shakes his head in his mind.

“Damn.” Paul voiced in defeat. He was desperate.

Wanting to see the human friend that he had, he thought of you again. He thought of the reaction he would have if he were to see you again.

Jared and Paul walk through the woods, back to Sam’s home.

“Your dad was on a rampage looking for you. I told him you’ve been staying with me but, he was pissed.” Jared explains to him.

“I don’t care about that son of a bitch.” Paul says in annoyance.

Jared snickered as he opened the door to Sam’s home.

Paul sat in the chair as the tattoo needle was hard pressed into his skin. His fingers were gripping the table as Sam explained how important it was for him to have it. He never thought to get ink on his skin but, the tattoo looked good to him.

Over lunch, Paul ate and ate.

“Slow down, pig.” Jared comments.

“Shut up.” Paul says with his mouth full.

“Just to let you know, you can’t go back to school.” Sam says to him.

“I know. I’m suspended.” Paul says in an obvious tone.

“I know. I mean after your suspension is up.” Sam corrects.

Paul stops as he looked at Sam’s serious face. He felt himself get angry all over again.

“Dude, just calm down. It feels good not being able to do homework.” Jared says with a grin to make his friend feel better.

“It’s not about that. Everything that’s normal I can’t have, huh?” Paul says frowning.

Sam sighs, “It’s the sacrifice we have to make to protect people.”

“Sacrifice the order and let me see Y/N, then.” Paul challenged but Sam shakes his head slowly at his proposal.

He snuck back into his home late into the night while his father was sleeping. With his new heightened smell, he smelled something delicious. It came from the front door and he had a feeling it was you.

He then found out about the silence movements that he now possessed as he climbed the squeaky stairs. They made no noise under his footsteps.

Checking his abandoned phone, he seen two texts from you. He couldn’t contact you but you could contact him.

“Are you okay?”

“U can talk to me.”

He read them over and over as if they were a lengthy novel.

His mind travels to his room. Only one person could make him feel better. Only one that could let him forget the horrific living nightmare he was subjected to.

Many days passed and he tried to make his feet go into the direction of your home. He underestimated the order when his body wouldn’t let him move forward. He tried his hardest to fight through it but he was no match for the invisible wall.

His father ranted and raved how much he ate.

“Food isn’t free!” His father says as he throws an empty box into the trash.

Paul had to leave his home a lot. He didn’t want to accidentally kill his father.

He almost did when he touched a soft subject.

Paul was on his way out of the door when his father says, “You’re always fucking leaving! Just like your mother. The one thing she did right was not coming back. Then, she would see the walking piece of waste of a son! Maybe she knows, that’s probably why she didn’t take your ass with her!”

Paul’s teeth clenched as he moved further into the woods. He left out of the house when his mother was starting to be mentioned but his heightened hearing made him hear everything. It was a curse in his eyes.

He couldn’t help but to wonder if his mother knew that this would happen. She whispered the stories of protectors to him as a child, he remembers the limited memories of her motherly love. He just couldn’t understand why she left. His thoughts were the demons he battled with alone.

Paul killed his first cold one. He remembered the rush he felt when his teeth ripped their limb from the air. Jared whooped in the mind link as Sam got the fire ready.

With their leader telling them they’re free to go after circling the area once more, Jared flew home to go to sleep. Paul went to the basketball court. He didn’t want to go back home so he borrowed Jared’s basketball.

The ball bounced up and down from his hand. He easily scored the ball into the basketball net. He was alone and was grateful for this. He looked over in the park area, hoping that you were sitting with a book or a sketchbook. Emptiness is what met his eyes. He shot the ball in the air. He heard the screech of a car stopping.

He was a bit annoyed that someone decided to come, he enjoyed the alone time.

“He lives!”

He scored one last shot and let the ball roll.

That voice made him almost drop to his knees. Opening his nostrils, he could smell the sweet scent coming from you. He wanted to look at you, but he couldn’t.

He physically couldn’t. You were still thinking about him. He figured you moved on from him.

“You don’t have to talk to me but…I just wanted to know if you were okay. I haven’t heard from you.”

He tried his best to meet your eyes but the order had an unimaginable grip on him.

“No contact with Y/N.”

That’s all that kept floating through his mind.

“Please just keep talking.” he says in his mind.

He heard your footsteps walking away and for the first time in a long time, he wanted to cry like a child. He picked up the basketball and bounced it. His hope for anything was simply sucked out. He was readying himself to accept his new hell.

The next day, Emily served him breakfast and Jared comes in with a big smile.

“Guess what?” Jared asks Paul with excitement.

Paul sighed as he felt annoyed. He wasn’t in the mood to feel happy.

Jared nudged him and showed him a picture on his phone.

“Y/N won an art contest yesterday.” Jared says, hoping it would bring a smile to his friend’s face.

Paul looked at the neutral look on your face. It was too much. He knew that he was the cause of that. If he was still around, he knew your smile would be much bigger than that. You looked like your feelings were hurt and your face was full of thought.

Paul didn’t finish his food, leaving out. Phasing, he succumbed to the wolf.

Your face kept flashing and it made his heart thump with pain. He just wanted to see you. He ran and ran until he didn’t recognize his surroundings.

He spent alot of his time in his wolf form, phasing out here and there to eat. The weeks were so slow. It dragged on like a snail. He was hurting in every inch of the time.

Sitting at the table, Paul rushed so that he could phase out of his human skin.

“Sam, you should lift the order.” Jared suggests.

“No. Hell no.” Sam says.

“How is he going to break up with her if he can’t see her?” Jared asks.

Paul looks at him. He knew that look. He was up to something. He let the situation play out.

“Just lift it so he can go break up with her.” Jared says.

Paul looks at Sam. Sam looked at Jared for a long moment. Paul had to give it to him, Jared didn’t crack or let his hand show.

“I swear, you better not make me regret this.” Sam says to Paul.

“I will break up with her and be on my jolly way.” Paul rasped out. He barely spoke since he was a wolf most the time.

“Fine. I lift it.” Sam says and Paul instantly felt the grip come up off of him. It felt like he could breathe again.

“But, Jared. Go with him.” Sam says.

Jared waves him off and follows Paul out the door.

“You’re not breaking up with her are you?” Jared says as he followed him to your home.

“Hell no.” Paul says. He knocked but you weren’t home.

He checked the park. You weren’t there. He smelled you again near the beach. He stopped once he saw you in a distance. The sketchbook was in your hands as your face was peaceful. You were his peace.

Jared nudged him forward, “Go ahead. Don’t look stupid.”

Jared then leaves off.

Paul was on his own. He took careful and slow steps, soaking up the sight of you. It’s been so long. You smelled so good as he got closer and closer.

He stood behind you, closed his eyes and breathed out your name through his lips. He opened them, expecting you to face with a mean look but all he saw was the back of you. You however, paused your drawing.

He moves around you, finding you looking down. It crushed him that you wouldn’t look at him.

“I know you’re mad….Can you just look…Please?”

He watched you as you slowly looked up. He watched your eyes took in his body, the tattoo that was sported on his shoulder, and finally to his eyes. It was as if you were gravity, holding him to Earth. Everything that he was living for, was in the palm of your hand. He wanted to give you the world, it was no doubt. You and him were the only beings on the planet. The memories of you two flooded his brain. It overflowed in his brain. He was glad he talked to you that day at the park. He was glad that his life promised nothing but happiness and peace with you.

“You’re everything to me.” Paul thought in his head.

He finally speaks.

“I’m sorry Y/N. I promise to explain everything.” he says to you.

A piece of him shattered as you didn’t say anything back. He didn’t like the fact that you were now looking through him and not at him. He needed to be near you, it’s been too long.

He sits next you and watched as you stare ahead. He understood. He broke your feelings.

“I can’t come back to school anymore.” he says. He finally was able to come clean. He still felt crushed as you still wouldn’t say anything. He was getting desperate. Knowing that you were a curious mind, he decided to just show you all of him.

“I have to show you something.” he says as he rises from his spot. He almost smiled at the fact that you got up to follow him. He was glad he found this meadow during his time as a wolf in the woods. He turns around and sees you taking it all in. He hoped you liked it as much as he did.

“Whatever happens, you can’t run.” he warns. He watched you grow nervous but he wants you to know.

He watched your face as you called out to his wolf.

“Paul?”

You were on your butt as you looked at the huge wolf. Convincing you that he wasn’t a threat, he explained imprinting. He knew for sure he imprinted on you. As he explained it to you, it all matched what he felt for you. He didn’t want to be a brother, protector or friend to you. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. He never thought that any girl would have him this tight by the balls until you came along. You fit in his destiny.

As you hugged him, he didn’t want to let you go. He watched as you entered your home.

He ran to Sam and Emily’s, busting through the door. All eyes were on him like he was crazy.

“I imprinted.”

Paul said the words as Sam rose up.

“Show me.” he demands.

He didn’t believe it. He watched in disbelief as Paul played the interaction between you two.

At first, Sam was lost for words. Paul definitely imprinted. Sam felt the exact same thing, but for Emily. He couldn’t understand it. He just couldn’t understand why the same couldn’t happen for him and Leah. He has no choice but to feel happy for his pack brother.

“Congratulations, Paul.”

Paul’s mood was noticeably lifted as he talked more around the table.

“She didn’t run, did she?” Jared asks. Paul shakes his head. Jared had a crestfallen look. He remembered when he told Kim and showed her his wolf, she ran from his wolf. That was the part that he had to suppress. He wanted to feel free.

“Aren’t you happy for Paul? You were Y/N and Paul’s biggest fan.” Emily teases Jared.

“I am. But… He imprinted on someone he wanted to imprint on. Why can’t we choose?” Jared wonders. The boy’s face was wrinkled, perplexed at the possibilities of choosing who was right for them.

“The spirits just know best, I guess.” Emily laughs.

Deep down, Sam understood where Jared was going with his question. The spirits should have known the love that Sam had for Leah. As happy as he was for Paul, he wished the envisioned version of the outcome of his destiny, to be the same as Paul’s. For Leah to be the one that held him to Earth.

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channelinglament · 2 years ago

Text

When you hadn't logged in for a few days

Ft. Diasomnia (💀)

Summary: Basically you hadn't logged in twst for a while now (could be 2 days or more) for whatever reason. But sadly you didn't know, that your game is sentient.

Tw: yandere, bad grammar, death, murder, religious themes.

🐀 (it's me, the anon-) @writingforatwistedworld

Lilia

Plz forgive this world that is full of sinners-

Fr prays and slays (people)

Alright, let's begin on how it happened:

Lilia was as always waiting for your return. He made himself look presentable, and stayed nearby ramshackle to greet you when you log in (aka when you get weekly stuff like gems and etc)

You didn't come back that day, sadly.

So what does our dear fae do?

Pray. A lot.

He is afraid that he or someone has somehow wronged you.

We're you busy?

Were they not praying hard enough?

Did he need to kill someone-?

And like that, he tried to sleep.

The same was on second day.

But when the third day (afternoon actually) comes, oh he is going insane.

This world is so full of sin! It is filled with sinners to the brim isn't it? That's why you aren't coming back, he's sure of it!

So, the massacre started. You can't tell me otherwise. He prays that you come back, while he slays those, he deems sinners.

If it's for you, he's ready to starts/wage a war again.

Malleus

Congrats, it's the end of the world!

Trust me, if you logged in right at that moment, you would have the longest log in in your history.

Unlike Lilia, he immediately panicked. While you weren't around, the weather was terrible.

A few people probably died because of the thunder

He prays, and prays hard.

On the second day he tries to use his magic to see what you're doing (your camera)

If you're playing another game then he immediately destroys(burns) the world.

If you're busy, tries to wait.

If talking to someone, the first option happens aswell

On third day it's the end of the world. Literally.

Unless you decide to log in, at that exact moment, say bye-bye to everyone alive except a few faes and maybe people.

Silver

Understands that you may be busy.

But still prays nonetheless. (He was raised by Lilia, a cute lunatic after all)

Honestly is afraid that someone might've hurt you. What if you're in danger and he doesn't know about it??

He's supposed to be your knight in shining armor, protect you with his life. What if you're in danger rn and he cannot do anything about it???! (Not like could've helped even if you were, he's in game. But he could've told Malleus or Lilia, then you'd be in game sooner than expected)

Similarily to Lilia, starts massacring people calling them sinners.

But I feel like it's at the end of 2nd day? Stealthily btw

He was sleeping, then heard noises. People were talking about you and how they thought you abandoned them.

He was angry and uhh

Made ketchup for Lilia to cook.

Even if you did abandon them, it's not your fault! But he's sure you didn't, they probably just needed to get rid of sinners that have wronged you and made you upset!

Sebek

Screams

Shocked

Prays

And then

Starts giving you offerings.

Since the day 1

He definitely needs to try harder! Everyone needs!

The reason you're not here is because they're not praying hard enough! They're not offering you what you would like! Of course you won't come back if they won't!

Literally kills everyone left and right.

And offers them to you.

Negative two out of ten, would not recommend.

Fr, he doesn't think that it could be 'cuz you're busy. Probably you're offended that they haven't devoted themselves to you completely.

He wishes that everyone would be like them, on valley of thorns. But sadly, some see you as an equal or just an all knowing entity. Or even worse, but he doesn't talk about Shaftlands. At least some nations are good.

But he still thinks they're wrong in thinking you can have flaws too.

It's their fault for you leaving them!

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moon-ttokki-x · 2 months ago

Note

omg i just saw the prompt list

can you do something cute and fluffy with 21 + 44 for Felix, he is wrecking me again rn🥹❤️

so this is pretty rushed but i think it went okay. omg same btw, he's been wrecking me so hard the past few days with his new hairstyle too. anyway here you go <3

fall for you - lee felix

pairing: lee felix x reader

summary: you and felix are at the library late at night, studying for an exam, until things take a sudden turn

genre: another college!au but you can't really tell ig, soft shy felix, very fluffy

a/n: this fic feels so cosy. dividers by @kodaswrld

⛓️ prompts: 21. "Are you trying to get me to fall for you?" / 44. "I wasn't supposed to say that."

skz prompt list | skz masterlist

The library is dead silent this time of night, you note as you walk in; the only sounds come from the faint tapping of keys on laptops and occasional taps and thuds as a pen is set down and a book is closed. No one is here but you and a certain someone.

Felix.

He is sitting with his knees tucked to his chest when you return from the cafe down the street, holding a cardboard tray of two drinks. You hand one to him and he thanks you with a soft, tired smile as you sit next to him, where your own workstation has been set up.

Your shoulder brushes his as you readjust, and you sigh as you reopen your laptop, the ghoulish blue light overtaking the warm glow of the golden desk lamps surrounding the area.

Felix laughs quietly. "Bet you missed that blue light, huh?"

You groan. "No, I dragged my feet on the way back from the cafe so I wouldn't have to face it. It's giving me a headache."

"At least you're prepared for the exam."

You groan and lean your head on his shoulder, exasperated. Your voice is muffled. "I don't feel prepared."

He ruffles your hair. "You say that every time, and then you pass with a great score. Relax, Y/nnie."

You sigh and sit upright, stretching. "I guess."

Bending your fingers to release some of the tension, you exhale and dive back into your work. You assume Felix is doing the same, and when you glance across, he is, but little do you know that he's already missing the familiar warmth of your physical action. His shoulder burns where you rested your head and he rolls it back, trying to alleviate the bittersweet feeling.

You're both already sitting fairly close; it's cold outside, and naturally, you drift closer to each other for warmth in the chilly air of the spacious library, knees tucked to chests and jackets draped over shoulders. Silence descends again, occasionally broken by one of you as you pore over shared notes or point to something on your laptops.

You sit back suddenly, turning behind you to survey the darkened shelves and sitting areas. Felix looks up from his notes.

"What's wrong?"

You grin at him. "We're literally the only ones here, do you realise?"

He surveys your surroundings too with a dazed gaze, then he nods. "Yep. I guess everyone else studied earlier."

You laugh and then hurriedly shush yourself, not wanting to disturb the peaceful, serene atmosphere that has descended like a blanket over the library interior. Felix covers his mouth with a hand, trying to muffle his laugh.

"The place isn't haunted, you know," he snickers. "You're allowed to make noise."

You point an accusatory finger at him. "It might be! And besides, you're doing the same thing."

"No, I'm not."

You roll your eyes. "All the library ghosts are going to come for you if they hear you lying, Lee Felix."

Felix snickers again, eyes widening. "Library ghosts? When'd you get that idea? You're lying now-"

You put on a very self-important expression and interrupt him, pretending to glare. "I made it up just now, 'cos I can. They can hear you, Felix."

He's grinning softly now, and a warm feeling spreads in his chest, thawing the ice beginning to frost over his skin from the library air. “I swear," he says, still grinning, "You always know how to make me laugh. Are you trying to get me to fall for you?”

You grin too and try to hide a blush, thankful for the low light. “What? No, of course not. Just trying to keep you awake.”

Felix’s smile falters slightly, unsure if he meant to say that out loud. His hand scratches the back of his neck nervously.

“I... I wasn’t supposed to say that.” He says uncertainly.

You try to play it off, teasing. “Well, now you’ve said it. So, what are you going to do about it?”

Felix’s eyes widen, and he stammers, not knowing how to answer. His heart races. He tries to cover it up with a nervous laugh, his voice a little shaky.

“I... I don’t know. Maybe you should just... make me fall for you?”

Your heart thuds, almost out of your ribcage, and you turn to him, hoping you look as confident as you sound. You don't.

"How exactly do I do that, Felix?"

He is silent. The atmosphere is charged, not least because of the conversation topic or the proximity. Felix lets his head drop and exhales heavily, like he used to when he had a secret to tell. When he raises his head, there's the faintest ghost of a shy smile on his lips. His cheeks are flushed and he's almost shaking.

His voice is so quiet when he speaks, almost a whisper.

"You don't have to try and make me fall for you, Y/n."

You tilt your head softly. "Why not?"

"Because you already have."

a/n: ooooohh *snaps fingers* plot twist

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lvnchh · 2 months ago

Text

Burnt Edges

Abby Anderson x f!reader (with PTSD) 👉🏻original version 👈🏻 Wanted to make another version for my Abby girls so y'all can feel represented too 🫶🏻

I'm a minor and if you want to complain or insult me about it, just don't interact🙏🏻. It's my life, and I'm free to write whatever I want as long as I'm not bothering anyone. Also, please don't judge any grammar mistakes, as English is not my native language. I'm sorry if the whole story isn't that good.

TW: I have PTSD (DIAGNOSED), and what you're about to read is based on my personal experiences. Writing about it is a form of therapy for me. If you are sensitive to topics like violence and domestic violence, please do not continue reading. Thank you🙏🏻

Btw I need more Abby x PTSD reader stories because I want to feel less alone and represented

story below the cut

The WLF base was bustling as usual, soldiers moving in every direction with purpose. It was organized chaos, but the rhythm of it kept your mind just busy enough to not wander too far. You had been here for weeks now, a stray who Abby had somehow decided was worth keeping around. She didn’t talk much about why—just said you seemed “useful” and left it at that.

But tonight, after the day’s drills and patrols, you needed air. The weight in your chest had been building all day, the familiar tightness creeping in. The base was too loud, too crowded, too much like the chaos you used to live in. You found yourself climbing to the roof, the one place no one ever seemed to go.

When the door creaked open behind you, you sighed. So much for solitude.

“Figured I’d find you up here,” Abby said, her voice steady but not unkind.

You turned, finding her leaning casually against the doorway. Her braid hung over her shoulder, and her broad frame filled the space effortlessly. Abby was intimidating at first glance—hell, even second and third glance—but there was something about her that made you feel safe in a way you hadn’t in a long time.

“What gave me away?” you asked, forcing a weak smile as you lit your cigarette.

Abby stepped onto the roof and shrugged. “You disappear when you’re overwhelmed. You’re not as sneaky as you think.”

Her bluntness was typical, but it wasn’t cruel. If anything, it was grounding. She moved to sit beside you, her heavy boots thudding against the concrete as she stretched her legs out.

The two of you sat in silence for a while, the distant hum of the base fading into the background. Abby wasn’t much for small talk, and you appreciated that.

“You smoke a lot for someone who can barely keep up on a run,” she teased eventually, smirking as she glanced at you.

You snorted, shaking your head. “Yeah, well… cardio’s overrated.”

“Not when you’re being chased by infected.”

“Fair point.”

Another silence settled, and you found yourself exhaling a plume of smoke, watching it dissipate into the night. You could feel Abby’s eyes on you, her curiosity barely masked. She wasn’t the kind to pry, but she wasn’t one to let something slide if she thought it mattered.

“You’ve been… off today,” she said after a moment, her voice quieter than usual.

You stiffened, gripping the cigarette between your fingers. “What do you mean?”

Abby shrugged, leaning back on her hands. “You didn’t even flinch when Manny cracked a joke at you earlier. Usually, you’d at least roll your eyes. Something’s eating at you.”

You hesitated, the weight in your chest growing heavier. Abby wasn’t wrong, but the idea of saying it out loud felt suffocating. Still, the look she gave you—patient, steady—made you feel like maybe you could.

“It’s… nothing,” you muttered at first, then winced at her unimpressed scoff. “Okay, fine. It’s not nothing. It’s just—this place. The noise, the shouting, the slamming doors. It reminds me of… home.”

Abby tilted her head, her brows knitting slightly. “Home?”

You took another drag of your cigarette, the smoke burning your throat. “My dad. let’s just say he wasn’t exactly Father of the Year material. Yelling was the least of it.”

You didn’t elaborate, but Abby’s sharp eyes softened, her expression shifting from curiosity to something that looked like understanding.

“Shit,” she muttered, leaning forward. “I didn’t know.”

“Yeah, well,” you said, flicking the ash off your cigarette, “it’s not exactly something I put on my résumé.”

Abby huffed a laugh at that, but it was soft, almost careful. She leaned back again, her gaze fixed on the skyline. “That why you’re always so jumpy?”

You nodded, not bothering to deny it. “PTSD’s a hell of a ride.”

She was quiet for a moment, the tension between you settling into something heavier but not unwelcome. “I can’t even imagine what that’s like,” she said finally, her voice low. “But… I get the needing space part. I didn’t grow up with that kind of shit, but since… since everything with my dad and the Fireflies, sometimes it feels like I can’t breathe when things get too loud.”

Her admission caught you off guard, and you turned to look at her. For all her strength, Abby carried a weight too. It was different from yours, but it was still there, etched into the set of her jaw and the faint lines around her eyes.

“Well,” you said, smirking despite the heaviness in your chest, “guess we’re both a little screwed up.”

“Guess so,” Abby agreed, a faint smile tugging at her lips.

You took one last drag of your cigarette before stubbing it out against the concrete. Then, without thinking, you added, “What can I say? My PTSD made me hotter.”

Abby blinked, staring at you for a moment before bursting into a laugh—a real, genuine laugh that echoed into the night. It was rare to hear her laugh like that, and you couldn’t help but grin, feeling a little lighter just from the sound.

“You’re ridiculous,” she said, shaking her head as she wiped a tear from the corner of her eye.

“Yeah, but you love it,” you shot back, leaning back on your hands with a smug smile.

Abby rolled her eyes, but the warmth in her expression betrayed her. “Don’t push your luck, rookie.”

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luvyunjinxo · 2 years ago

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I'll make you feel better || jang wonyoung g!p x fem!reader

CW: mentions of cheating (do not cheat ever it's just for this fic 😡), g!p wonyoung, body worship, toxic relationship mentions, squirting & not proofread lmk if I missed one! (kinda longer than my usual fics btw)

you felt awful. walls felt like they were caving in and your emotions were taking over, not to mention it felt like your life was over. you had just walked into your newly ex-boyfriend cheating.

for context, you just got off of work texting wonyoung saying how happy you were to finally see him after a long day. BUT. you and wonyoung had this thing. It was a type of tension between each other, something that you and him never had. You felt it, and she did too. yet, you denied your feelings for her always because you knew it was wrong.

continuing, you walked into your shared apartment with him and heard noises more like groaning coming from your room? You honestly thought it was just him jacking off or something which you were honestly excited for but instead you saw something else.

your heart sunk, broke, and suddenly you're on the floor. crying and screaming out curses "why would you do this to me!?"

"baby please, it's not what it looks like." he lied. what a fucking liar. he was literally just fucking a girl on the bed two seconds ago like crazy.

"I just felt lonely without you here, I love you so so much." he screamed back while trying to kiss your hands. cringey and pathetic. you told him that he was kicked out and never to come back to your place again, since you were technically the one who bought it for both of you.

he packed his stuff and left for good. blocking his number, throwing out his toothbrush and everything else he forgot. you were a mess and you could tell, so was he. but who the fuck cares he cheated?

the next day now, still not doing well. you were forced to go to college by your strict parents so you had nothing to do but comply, and just go. You didn't tell wonyoung about what happened yet but you were planning to. you showed up to the class you had to go to which apparently wonyoung was in too.

now was finally the chance to tell her. she sat next to you like always, exchanging secrets always. but this time it was different. She looked at your eyes while she sat down and saw your red eyes and eye bags.

she was so worried about you. she really did love you. she didn't tell you, yet but she has a big crush on you but you just couldn't realize it fully. she scooted closer to you and tucked your hair behind your ear. with that she also lifted up your chin with her finger just so you could look at her. "butterflies😻" was all you could think of in your head.

"whats wrong y/nnie? what happened to you?"

"I d-didn't tell you yet but, he cheated as soon as I got home yesterday andicouldntcallyoubecauseiwasacryingmessand-"

you were talking to fast and you got cut off with her finger going on your lips. tears were threatening to fall out any moment now just by talking ab this topic.

too late. you were already crying so hard that you ran to the bathroom without notice and had wonyoung running after you like a crazy person.

guys this was like a k-drama really. running through the wide halls of the college and finally finding a bathroom at least 2 minutes away, you have slowed down. wonyoung caught up to you eventually as your pace slowed.

now walking there together to clean you up, you both made it and got 10 tissues. It was a cute moment:( . wonyoung looking at you straight in the eyes while wiping your tears with the tissue.

you were against the wall right next to the sink still crying and sniffing. There was that tension again. both of you now looking each other deeply. you got lost in her beautiful eyes.

you swear she was about to go in for it. getting more bold and eager she stopped wiping your tears and went to focusing on your soft lips that stood out to her the most. this was so bad. just getting out of a relationship and already falling for someone new.

all you needed right now was wonyoung. and wonyoung needed you. she now has trapped you with both of her arms, one on the left and one on the right so you could not escape from her.

"y/n, I know you feel this between us and I'm letting you know I'm about to do something to make you feel good."

you nodded eagerly as she smashed her lips onto yours. making out deeply. and shit, she was so pretty. moans slipped out of your lips as your tongues fight for dominance and wonnie being a switch, she still won.

realizing you were making out in the bathroom made it hotter for you. the feeling of getting caught frightened you, but who cares at this point.

you pulled away with a string of saliva leaving both of your lips. "you know were gonna get in trouble by the professor right?"

"yeah I know. but its worth it." she smirked, took your hand and lead you to her car.

you didn't know where she was driving to but I guess it was your apartment. one hand on the wheel while the other is gripping your thigh. THAT WAS SO HOT TO YOU.

it was supposed to be an innocent make-out session but now your starting to feel things. your getting more drenched and wet you just couldn't help but think about all the stuff she could do to you right now. and if she did you would gladly let her. god, you were such a loser for her.

on the way to your apartment unlocking your door with your keys, you bent down to take your shoes off and place them on your rack. she couldn't help but seem to notice and slap your ass<3. sorry just had to say it because she actually did. your dumbass let out a moan because of how needy you were. any touch from wonyoung would sink into your horniness.

"was that a moan l/n y/n?" she smacks your ass again, you covering your mouth trying not to make any noise this time.

"no let it out?.. I wanna hear you." one last slap and being the loser you are for her, the loudest moan possible slipped out.

no questions asked, you were now being pushed onto the bed while she crawled over your body, topping you.

wonyoung stripping you completely but also pinning your hands above your head.

"you look so pretty like this y/n, you were always mine in the first place not his." she says while brushing your torso with her slender hand admiring your body.

she was touching you so well. the places where you were sensitive at most. She started to kiss your neck sloppily, leaving marks all around you so everyone knows your hers now. all you could do is lay back and love what she is doing to you.

"wait y/n .. can y-you uhm ride my face? .." awh how cute. she was being shy for once. no questions asked again, you complied and sat on her face slowly, not wanting to suffocate her.

"fuck! wonyoung thats s-so fast!" you screamed out as her tongue kept flicking up and down in a consistent pace which left you a mess. you were moaning so much the neighbors could hear you at that point.

"yeah, can he fuck you like this? hm?"she groaned in a husky voice, also a little mumbly because of your thighs making her suffocated.

"I-I .. no .." funny how you can't breathe because of her fucking your brains out so good.

still eating you out, she has pulled down her baggy jeans to pull out her cock. shitttt, you had to admit you wanted some of that. she got off to the thought of you coming all over her face and the thought of you moaning her names and dirty stuff you could never imagine.

You looked behind only to see her getting off to your moaning and so much precum was dripping out from her.

"ive b-been waiting so long f-for this, please I'll be good for y-you and only you." you sobbed.

"I'm really gonna c-come!" screaming out loud so everyone could hear you at this point.

"sh-shit your body is stunning. i-im coming too!" you were confused and didnt know where that compliment came from but all you know is that you were squirting all over Jang Wonyoung's face ..

you immediately collapsed onto her titties which led to you sucking them while she started to ride out of her orgasm.

"looks like you need help cleaning up a little?" wonyoung chuckled and nod making you give her head.

your tiny mouth was swirling over the tip eating all her cum. so sweet yet so bitter, just how you liked it. she didn't like the way you were teasing her so she pushed your head down a little farther making you gag. all good though because you made her cum again<3.

while you guys were all cleaned up again and under the sheets together naked, you cuddled and confessed to each other in the endd. it all worked out.

- I'll make you feel better.

I'm sorry if this was rushed because it def was 💔

#fypシ #kpop smut #ive hard hours #ive smut #ive x reader #ive wonyoung #jang wonyoung #wonyoung smut #jang wonyoung smut #wonyoung x fem reader #lesbian #ive #wonyoung #smut #wonyoung g!p #girl group smut

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elsweetheart · 2 years ago

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I might be a complete slut to think about it, but imagine dealer!ellie coming in from a night when business wasn't good, and fucking you with the strap to take out her frustration

we’re all sluts here *spoken like the cheshire cat*

all circuits are busy, goodbye

🎀 weed mentions but no smoking of it, ellie is frustrated, mentions of dealing, strap on sex lol, daddy kink, ellie gets a call and answers it during, another lana title from the song dealer how ironic, brief breeding kink ?? i hate this a lot btw

“fuck, man.” ellie sighed as she pushed the door to her dorm open — brows pinched and jaw tense, backpack already slumping down by the door in its usual spot. you sat up from her bed where you were laid down reading, dressed in just an incredibly oversized shirt that she had stolen a long time ago from joel and a pair of socks having had a shower and forgot to bring more underwear. you frowned at her glum demeanour as she harshly unzipped her jacket and threw it aside — not even caring to hang it up.

“wha’s wrong?” you asked sleepily, glancing at the clock as you placed your book aside— only to see she was home much earlier than she usually would be from one of these parties.

“waste of fuckin’ time.” she leant down slightly, lifting her black backpack off the ground just a little as she looked at you pointedly. “see how heavy that is? s’not money in there— it’s all the shit i left this room with.” she threw the bag aside, walking further into the dorm and groaning, hands clasping at the back of her neck as she tipped her head back.

“m’sorry els. bad business is the worst.” you sighed.

“and fuckin’ — then — before i’ve even sold shit, i get word that the cops were outside tryna shut the party down cos’ of noise complaints — so i had to haul ass over the fence in the backyard and get the hell out of there.” she divulges, talking expressively with her hands the same way she always did when she got super passionate. you wanted to smile at this, but didn’t wanna piss her off.

“that sucks.” you pout sympathetically, not wanting to take any of the limelight as you knew she’d probably feel better once she vented.

“i blew off that other party for this one thinking those rich kids would empty their pockets but no— man, i should have hit the other one.” her voice raised a little in frustration, eyes scrunching up in stress.

“s’okay, ellie. there’s always next time.” you reassured and for the first time she actually stopped to take you in for a moment. your bare legs hung off the bed, her tshirt barely covering the necessities. you opened your arms to her and she stepped forward— angry frown still etched onto her face before she let you hug her. the hug lasted about two seconds, before she took your face in her grip and kissed you. you let out a soft moan, her usual kisses long forgotten and to be replaced with a rougher version of her — someone a little frustrated and still very much in love. she kissed you until she was a little out of breath and you could feel your arousal dampening your folds.

she pushed into you with her kiss, making you lean back until you were laying down. your hand tugged the tshirt between your legs to cover your indecency, your hips still on full display, shirt having ridden up. ellie pulled back, standing back up and gazed at you, eyes dropping to the way you covered yourself modestly. she pushed your hand away without a word, panting from the makeout session and the t-shirt dropped from your hand and landed just below your belly button, your bare pussy left on full display. your legs were a little spread from the position she’d laid you in, and you were embarrassed to feel her eyes on your wet heat.

you were sitting up on your elbows, waiting for her next move as you stared up at her with wide doe eyes as if requiring instruction. she wet her lips, hands finally sliding up your thighs as she hovered over you. “need a little something from you.” she whispered, like it was your little secret.

she leant down and kissed you, giving you limited space to reply. “anything els. can do anything.” you whispered back eagerly, between kisses gazing up at her with an expression she can only describe as eager to please.

she pushed your thigh open, head bowing to look at between your legs between kisses. “yeah? gonna let me fuck you? need to fuck you baby.” her kisses sped up, barely giving herself room to speak as you felt her hands start to roam you — touching and squeezing everywhere until you were whining into her mouth.

“mhm, take it out on me.” you whimpered and she hummed in approval. she pulled away without warning and slid two hands beneath you, flipping you to lay on your front with a quiet yelp. without skipping a beat, she pulled you by your legs and slid you towards the edge of the bed til your ass was pressed to her thighs where she stood. she gave your ass a good natured slap before stepping down to get her strap, but not before she stuffed a folded pillow beneath your hips and pressed a kiss to your back. “always my good girl.”

•

you were pretty sure the base of the strap was wrecked with your pearly cum as ellie pounded you from behind, hands pressing down on your back exactly where she needed you. the arousal that had gathered at the base of the plastic attached to ellie’s harness created to a string against your ass cheek everytime she tugged you back to the tip of her cock. “fuckin’ messy pup.” she spoke through grit teeth before groaning when you clenched, creating more tension that pushed back against her own cunt through the harness. “don’t even remember what got me so fucked up.” she breathed out a chuckle as she pulled her tshirt up, so that her sports bra was on display slightly. she tucked the tshirt beneath her chin so she had a better view of you fucking against her. “shit, m’not even nearly done with you. could keep fuckin’ you like this all night. bet you’d like that, huh?” she gave your ass a light slap to prompt a reply — which you gave her in the form of a whine.

“just wanted to be helpful, daddy.” you were so fucked out you had no idea what was coming out of your mouth and you didn’t mind, you loved being in this mindset actually — so submissive that everything else just melted away. everything was ellie.

she didn’t get to respond, because her phone loudly buzzed out it’s ringtone besides you, her phone having been briefly chucked from her pocket when she was strapping up to get out the way. “you’re fucking kidding me.” she groaned quietly, and you expected her to click decline — surprised when she shoved the phone against her ear, tucking it against her shoulder as she used two hands to continue to pull you on and off her cock. you gasped into the sheets, doing your best to stay quiet.

“what, dude. make it quick.” you could tell she was trying to sound like she had enough oxygen in her lungs to resume conversation and if you weren’t so thoroughly fucked out you’d have laughed. you wondered if he could hear the sound of your ass slapping against her thighs as she sped up her thrusts.

“fuck no, i left. is that all? because i’m real fuckin’ busy right now and i’d rather — yes, okay whatever. just don’t call this phone til’ the morning, asshole.”

she’d slapped decline and tossed the phone back on the bed and you let out a relieved moan. at the sound she pulled out and rolled you over, rushing to pull your hips back to where she needed them as she leant over you to kiss you desperately. “good girl, stayed quiet.” she noted briefly and you felt the tip push against your hole again before she was sinking back in, the both of you moaning at just how easy it was. her hand slot between the two of you to grind against your clit as she readjusted. “you deserve… fuck, wanna cum inside that pretty pussy.” she whispered, almost to herself — but the idea was enough to hurtle you closer to another orgasm.

but, you pocketed the idea for now, making mental note to google breeding straps.

#ellie williams x reader #dealer!ellie #ellie williams prompt #ellie williams smut #ellie williams drabble

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tkaulitzlvr · 1 year ago

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2008 tom forcing reader to answer a call from her bf while they're secretly fucking, going faster and whispering dirty things in her ear as shes on call to tease her, making it harder for her to not to make any noise🤭🤭

btw I love ur writings sm, one of my fav writers fr😩

thankyouu😽🙏🏻

ANSWER IT - T. KAULITZ

synopsis: your boyfriend calls you at a pretty inconvenient time, but tom forces you to answer, and you have to disguise what is really happening, tom not making it easy for you.

content: smut

a/n: thank u so much anon! and oh my god this req is such a good idea, literally as soon as i saw it i knew it was gonna be the next one i write, and i had so much fun making this so thank u so much for requesting i hope u like it!!💞

come over, no one else is home. 10:47pm

i stared at the text message as it came through, the words looking back at me, contemplating on whether i should give in or not. my mind, the more rational, morally correct side of me, tells me that i should say no, reminding me that i have a boyfriend, who would be home from his business trip in just a couple of hours. but, the fact that my heart should have belonged to someone else had never stopped me before. my heart was more reckless, making rash decisions that spoke only for my impulses, not the part of me that felt guilty for what i had been doing for the past few months, completely unbeknownst to my boyfriend.

it was never meant to turn out like this, no. what was firstly settled as a ‘drunk mistake’ that my boyfriend wouldn’t have to know about became a sober fuck, one that happens at least once a week. i am hooked, unable to stay away from tom despite the constant nagging that reminds me how much of an evil person i am. but my guilty conscience is not strong enough to win me over, so i keep going back, completely addicted to the way tom feels, my boyfriend unable to give me the same satisfaction.

he is kind, loyal, loving. i don’t deserve him, really. he would come home from work every evening, completely oblivious of the fact that another man had been inside of me just hours before, intimate with me in the bed that we would sleep in every night - he knows nothing about any of it.

and it is this that reminds me that i should decline tom’s offer, my eyes still blazing into the phone screen as the message stares at me. i have a boyfriend, this is wrong. the voice inside of my head says, chanting it over and over, convincing me to make the right decision for once, instead of acting purely on desire. he would be heartbroken if he ever found out, he doesn’t deserve this. my conscience continues, on the brink of winning me over, the shame of what i have become sinking into me, nothing about this entire thing justifiable on my part. i can put a stop to this, do the right thing, all i need to do is say the word.

k, i’ll be over soon. 10:51pm

i sigh, a little embarrassed at my lack of self-control, knowing that tom has me wrapped around his finger, unable to decline his invitation. the blood is on my hands, staining my innocence, and i am far too into this to ever go back to the way things once were. i jump out of bed, rushing over to the mirror and inspecting my appearance. my makeup is a little messed up, so i take time fixing it, making sure i look perfect for tom, adjusting my hair after, removing any knots in at as it falls to my shoulders. finally satisfied, i grab my keys, leaving the apartment and locking the door behind me, making my way to the parking lot.

i unlock my car, climbing in cautiously, checking that my boyfriend hadn’t unexpectedly arrived home early before turning off my location on my phone, getting used to doing these things to avoid getting caught as much as i could. the car engine starts with a low hum, radio quietly sounding out in the background as i drive to tom’s house, the guilt soon fading away as excitement buzzes around me.

the familiar house comes into view, but i park a little further down the street, not wanting to make it obvious that i was there in case my boyfriend did find out where i was. the street is dark as i climb out of my car, locking it before quickly walking towards his house, checking behind me and knocking on the door.

tom opens it within a few seconds, smirking whilst looking me up and down, moving to the side and giving me room to walk in. he shuts the door behind him, not wasting any time as he pushes me forcefully against the wall, attaching his lips to mine.

“missed you.” he mutters into the kiss as i whine a little in response, already too into it to give him a proper answer, but judging by the way his hands travel down my back, squeezing my ass firmly, it doesn’t seem like he wants to do much talking anyways.

but i didn’t mind, our hookups strictly sexual, no romance behind them. sure, he would whisper things into my ear in the heat of the moment, but i knew that it didn’t mean anything, and i didn’t want it to either. despite betraying my boyfriend in the most evil way possible, i didn’t want to end things with him, somehow still feeling something towards him though he could never pleasure me the way tom does.

without breaking the kiss, tom’s hands hook around my thighs, lifting me upwards as i instinctively wrap my legs around his waist, our lips moving against each other’s as he carries me to his bedroom, my hands locked around his neck, arms resting on his shoulders.

my back collides with the bed as he places me onto it, his hand flush against my back for support as he falls onto it with me, our lips never breaking, his body now on top of mine. he clearly doesn’t want to tease me, his hands finding the bottom of my hoodie, pulling it off and leaving it somewhere on his carpet, leaving me in only my shorts and small pink bra. he smirks at my lack of clothing, drinking it all in whilst his fingers play with the waistband of my shorts. he takes them off too, seeing that my panties match the bra, his tongue moving to the corner of his mouth.

“all this for me, hm?” he smirks, moving my thighs apart and leaning downwards, cupping my breasts in his hands, squeezing them slightly as i let out a small moan, blushing at his words and nodding my head. “i bet he doesn’t touch you like i do, get you to put in all this effort for him.”

tom continues to taunt me, the mention of my boyfriend causing my heart to wrench, guilt settling in my stomach as it is enough to remind me how much of a bad person i am. but, the second tom pulls his t-shirt off, revealing his toned frame, adorned with muscle in all the right places, his abs on full display, any thought of my boyfriend is long gone, my eyes and mind only focused on what is in front of me - the view admittedly far better than anything he could ever give.

tom reconnects our lips, his tongue entering my mouth, hips beginning to grind against mine at a torturously slow pace, hands moving to swiftly unclip my bra. i start to become impatient, fingers toying with the waistband of his jeans as i scramble for the button, undoing them as his zipper follows. he sees that i am struggling, tugging them down himself and letting his boxers come off with them.

he moves my panties to the side, not even bothering to pull them down, before sliding into me, a long moan escaping from my lips as i feel him stretch my walls, already feeling so full.

“so fucking tight, always so good.” he mutters, his forehead against mine, his breath tickling my nose as he speaks, a choked moan sounding from his lips as he is fully inside. he waits a second, studying my expression, gauging that i am okay as he almost pulls out fully, before slamming into me unexpectedly.

my breathing is heavy, body glistening with sweat as i hold onto him, my hands raking down his back as his pace speeds up, becoming more fast and relentless. i am so far gone, in too much pleasure to even process anything that is happening around me - including the sound of my phone beginning to ring.

tom, however, notices immediately, picking it up from the bedside table whilst still thrusting into me, my eyes following his movements as i am too lost in ecstasy to ask what he is doing. he turns the phone, showing me who is calling. my eyes widen as i shake my head, signalling for him to put it down, not wanting him to stop.

“answer it.” is all he says, passing the phone to me, one hand on my hips, helping him to move in and out of me easier, whilst the other holds the phone to my ear. he accepts the call, smirking as my boyfriend’s voice can faintly be heard.

“baby? hey, uh, i just got home from work. where are you?” he asks, tom nodding his head, gesturing for me to speak. a knowing smirk spreads across his face as he speeds up his thrusts, my teeth sinking into my lips to prevent a moan that is dangerously close to spilling from them.

“h-hey love.” i pant, trying to sound nonchalant, failing miserably as i feel tom hit my g-spot, a muffled whine sounding from the back of my throat.

“what are you doing? you okay?” my boyfriend asks, his tone laced with confusion.

“sorry uh- my back is sore, the usual.” i manage to get out, quickly closing my mouth as tom stares into my eyes, enjoying the way i struggle, showing no sympathy as he only drills into me faster. “i’m- i’m at my mom’s house.”

the excuse is terrible, tom furrowing his brows once i utter the words, making me realise how unbelievable it is. but, he finds my lack of thought amusing, smiling a little before resting his head in the crook of my neck, planting rough, open-mouthed kisses there. i sigh out in response, quickly covering my mouth as i mentally curse my self.

“your mom’s place? what are you doing there? it’s like nearly midnight.” my boyfriend responds, clearly hesitant to buy my excuse.

“yeah, family emergency. i-i’ll…be home in the morning-” i have to stop my speech, pursing my lips shut as a moan is dangerously close to sounding from them.

tom smirks against my neck, goosebumps forming on the skin whilst his lips curve into a slight smile.

“look at you. getting fucked whilst your boyfriend is on the phone.” tom mutters, his voice low as he makes sure that his words can’t be made out through the phone. “so wrong. but you love it, don’t you, hm? fucking slut.”

tom continues to taunt me, paying attention to the way i bite my lip, or place my tongue on the roof of my mouth, even squeeze his upper arms, anything to stop any noise from coming out of my mouth, desperate to stay undetected.

“what? is everything okay?” my boyfriend asks, showing concern as he tries to extend the situation, much to my annoyance, unable to keep this up for much longer, wanting nothing more than to cry out in pleasure. “should i come-”

“no!” i quickly say, a little harsher than i initially intended to, the utterance a mix of desperation and an attempt to hold back a moan, the combination coming out as an abrupt plea. “i mean- she, she’s just…a little overwhelmed.”

tom begins to kiss the skin below my ear, biting at it gently, knowing this spot drives me crazy, and once i shiver a little, he knows that he has me right where he wants me, changing his thrusts a little as the new angle causes a familiar knot to build in my stomach.

“could he make you feel like this, hm? only i can, right baby?” he whispers, knowing the effect that he has on me, no need for me to verbalise it, the way my eyes screw shut at his movements enough to confirm it. “so needy, letting me do this to you whilst he can hear. if only he knew…”

his words against my neck combined with the new angle makes the urge to moan almost unbearable as i bite down onto tom’s shoulder, a low grunt escaping his mouth at my unexpected action. yet it only fuels his stamina as he chuckles under his breath, enjoying the effect he has on me, the thrill of the entire situation turning him on even more.

“oh, just, let me know if you need anything okay? i love you.” my boyfriend says, finally wrapping up the conversation as i sigh in relief, feeling at ease as i have somehow managed to pull this off.

but tom clearly isn’t satisfied with how i have managed to stay quiet, desperate to get some sort of noise out of me, and, he knows exactly how to do that. one hand still holding the phone to my ear, he moves his other downwards, using it to rub circles on my clit whilst thrusting in and out of me. and that is all it takes for a restricted moan to leave my lips, unable to be mistaken for anything else. i know that i am in deep shit.

“what the fuck was that? what’s going on? are you fucking someone?” my boyfriend asks, his voice raising as he has finally picked up on what is going on.

“w-what? are you crazy? of course not!” i quickly say, panting through my words, no longer able to hide it, knowing that i am completely fucked.

“don’t fucking bullshit me! where the fuck are you? i can’t believe this, you’re fucking cheating on me? i swear to fucking god once i find-”

his furious rambling is cut off as tom ends the call, turning my phone off and throwing it somewhere on the bed, his hand now running up and down my waist.

“i did you a favour. he was fucking annoying anyways.” tom breathes out, a satisfied grin tugging on his lips, only faltering once he reconnects them with mine, the hurt of what had just happened never sinking in, tom’s movements more than enough to make me forget.

requests are open! keep sending them in!!

#tom kaulitz #tokiohotel #tom kaulitz x reader #kaulitz #tom kaulitz smut #kaulitz twins #tomkaulitz #tom kaulitz angst #tom kaulitz fluff #bill kaulitz

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hvcrver · 9 months ago

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Heyy😭 Idk if this is dumb but idk if you do fanfics! If you do can you do Yandere shaiapouf x reader headcanons! I am a fem but the reader can ofc be gender neutral:3

I DO HELLOOO !! Yandere Shaiapouf is a very silly concept to be because just... ??? Is it just me or is he really barely toeing the line. For the other ants it seemed moreso "devotion" but just. Pouf. POUF... sighhs.

assume pre-established relationship btw this man has to go through all six stages of grief before he accepts he loves a STINKY HUYMAN... this just isn't the place to write allat

WARNINGS: Mentions of blood, "yandere" behaviors/tendencies, unhealthy mindsets, dead animals (non-graphic), Shaiapouf idolizing violence/depictions of him wanting to fucking maul people GFHDSAH

HIS LOVE LANGUAGE IS ACTS OF SERVICE!! despite all the flowery bullshit he might say later on n the relationship, you'll always know how he's really feeling by his body language and what he goes through with.

there's so little shaiapouf content that its soooo fun to just make up stuff for him. little habits and ticks and sounds he makes as he goes about his day....

have you heard abt the orange cracker butterfly? you will now (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=01hjJ4EhWtI)

that shit sounds like a TASER and they make that noise to tell other male butterflies to fuck off from their territory.

.........yes shaiapouf makes irritated taser sounds in public. yes you've almost gotten kicked out of places because workers think you're threatening patrons with a taser.

peppering his face in kisses until he calms down....... he starts warbling and chittering and his pupils dilate and he melts. three bajillion s/o points if you cusp his face in your hands and just rest your forehead against his afterward.

i think he'd give you dead animals as gifts, especially if you were too skinny for his liking. youre his monarch, his ruler, his sovereign, of course he'd find the best of the best for you! it's okay if you don't know how to skin them, he can take care of the gore himself, blood shouldn't grace your hands!

the level of dejected he looks when you turn him down is unfair in every sense of the word. you could have kicked a box of puppies and he would have looked less hurt. he probably would have white-knighted for you and said the puppies deserved it, actually

if blood DID grace your hands however,,,, god,,,,,,,,

him grabbing your arm, pressing kisses to the inside of your bloody wrist before lapping up every trace of red marring your skin......

DO NOT ASK ME ABT HOW HE'D BE DURING YOUR CYCLE!!!!! THE WORLD ISN'T READY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! /silly /nsrs

THIGHS THIGHS THIGHS THIGHHSS MMMMMFF.... i think its less about him being a thighs man and moreso that he'd enjoy just resting his head there. it doesn't matter how much shorter you are than him, he'd still contrort himself just to rest his head there as your hand cards through his hair......

okay time for the actual yandere headcanons, you didn't think he could just be cute and kissable and slutty, did you 🤨🤨🤨🤨

he REALLY likes pressing himself as close as possible to you, to watch the way you squirm in the iron shackle of his grip before he lets you go

because don't get it wrong-- he LET you go. shaiapouf finds it entrancing sometimes, the way he can feel your bones grinding together in your hand when he squeezes it too tightly, letting go the moment you yelp and pressing kisses to your knuckles until you complain at him for being the gooiest sap on the planet

micro-manages. god he micro-manages. he'll do the dishes, clean entire rooms, get rid of the old food in the fridge that he knows you're never going to eat despite saying you'd get around to it....

it feels... gross sometimes? you'll be laying in bed, sitting on the couch, at the kitchen counter, and he's just..... been working.

he looks so sad if you try and stop him though. he just wants to help, you know?

it doesn't matter if he's throwing away the clothes that you hide away your body with, stained and threadbare. they're your comfort clothes? that's okay, he'll get you better ones-- or even better, maybe you'd like to try on his own? he's sure you'd look adorable in them <33

it doesn't matter if he's slowly working out your chipped and dented dishes for fine china, delicate crystalware that clinked softly whenever he plated a meal for you. polished silver gleamed from your cutlery drawer, and you were a little scared that your knives would give you a thousand tiny cuts if you even breathed in their direction.

but thats okay, isn't it? he just wants the finer things in life for you... you do like his gifts, right? he worked so hard to get them!

you ask and you ask and you ask, and he never... quite tells you where he goes when he leaves, humming about it being 'confidential' and not to worry your pretty head about it before nuzzling against your temple .

he's not... trying to get rid of your comfort items, to warp your safe spaces. but if you come running into his arms, cuddle against his chest a little more often, well.

that's perfectly fine with him <333

just... don't worry about the speckles of blood on his clothes, the red marring his lips, pretty please? he'll lick the gore from his fangs, peel his clothes from his skin and toss them into the laundry basket before worshipping your body.

don't think about anything else. just him.

loves loves loveessss nipping at your skin...... if you're a chubbier s/o then i'm sure he'll ADORE you.

don't say anthing self-deprecating about your body around him. a gleam will enter his eyes, something dark and menacing before he's laving his tongue across your skin, leaving you squirming and breathy...........

he just really really likes how you look when your skin is littered with bruises and hickeys!!!! when his teeth sink in a little too deep, he'll whisper apologies into your skin, lapping at each droplet and pressing open-mouthed kisses until you're a giggling mess

ermmm anyways let me stop hornyposting this is the yandere part he gets SO SUPER IRRITATED WHEN YOU DO SOMETHING THAT DOESN'T MEET HIS IMAGE OF YOU!!

he SAYS he loves you but...... he can't understand you sometimes, why you'd shiver and start tearing up when he entertains the idea of viserally ripping someone to shreds whom he thought had personally wronged you a few minutes prior

in his mind you're his liege, the thing he worships and protects and lavishes n anything he can offer, he simply can't comprehend the way you start to shy away from him in fear when he entertains any of these ideas too long.

oh, he'll excuse it as instincts, his culture even. he's more than aware of how humans function, their benign society and rules that they keep in place and enforce, but oh.... he's so sorry for asking to rip off the arm of the mailman just because his fingers brushed against yours as he passed a letter to you, to sew his mouth shut with silk thread just because he complimented your appearance.

it was commonplace in his culture, you must understand-- to make moves towards what was very clearly someone else's partner simply wasn't to be tolerated.

ohh, how he wanted to pinch your cheeks and snatch you up from the way your face adorably scrunched up, right before you asked him how the grocer asking credit or debit was making a move.

guyyyysssss he's so sillyyyyyy please just stay with him and vcudlde with hijm in bed and dont think about anyone else ever

#spitballing.doc #yandere hunter x hunter #yandere hxh #yandere shaiapouf #shaiapouf #this is so fucking late #and i could have gone on longer BUT i need to keep writing meow meow meow!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#ermmmm... maybe ooc ngl i dont REALLY LIKE IT #but umm. yeah i need to literally do anything THIS IS SUPPOSED TO BE A WRITING BLOG!!!!!!!!!!!#UMMM!!!! IF SOMEOMNE ASKS FOR A PART TWO I WILL LIKE.....#go more in-depth abt nen manipulation and silly isolation stuf :))))

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