#joyride already????
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
Army of bastards akdhaksjsks YEAAAAAHHH
#oscar tully poor boy akdhaksjsks king consort akdjsksnsks#and all of you are mistaken he is not named oscar bc of the puppets he is named oscar because he is spanish. look at him#oscar get him!!!! he said you will have my army but i will say whatever i want about you lmao#oh he got another one to.... willem oof#i cannot believe daemon is feeling bad for killing hum jesus#did larys go soft bc of aegon??? like not believing the seasmoke claims.....#in the translation jace calls the lowborn mestizos 💀💀💀 boy#jace.... 🥺🥺🥺#vermithor and rhaenyra..... if only......#jesus christ what a massacre#HUGH GOT VERMITHOR YEAAAAAHHHHHH#ulf can get the other one yeah...... idc about him tbh#he looks like a betrayal incoming#he stepped on an egg.... die#no.... well...... another egg found then#silverwing was just playing#joyride already????#FIGHT?????????#vhagar isnt even on the dragonpit???#she just rests outside lmao#the last shot OOOF!!!!!!!!!!!!#FIERCE!!!!!!!!!!#also where is my friend philosophy chube........ i thought she was gonna claim a dragon too... well there are others#AND RHAENAA GET OUR SHEEPSTEALER!!!#talking tag#watching hotd
1 note
·
View note
Text
"Wow!" I say, "We are actually getting content for Jetpack Joyride!"
... I was then shot 57 times.
Were not gonna see the end of this... are we... season finale be damned...
I'm providing the doomed yaoi. Also there is a chance that Peter is Barry's uncle and not his dad. If so you'll see my RAGE!!
#jetpack joyride#jetpack joyride 2#barry steakfries#we are screwed#jj fans are already waiting for the first series and now THIS#NO PLEASE HB I NEED IT-
12 notes
·
View notes
Text
not a lot of people know this but frank iero actually studied me psycholigically and wrote this song about me specifically
22 notes
·
View notes
Text
Silly Craigrry sketch hehe
(Srry if the quality is low or smth)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/e1f64fcfa1508a1f2eaeb23ee94c4ac1/1e68de6a373b8c9b-fe/s540x810/b1409b1f0da2a2499d35e3fa48aa7a76aefae46e.jpg)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/37822dc4c6f56bb3dbe70cd25afe91db/1e68de6a373b8c9b-a2/s540x810/d1b3432f6fa0165decc9a237179c198d31b730ed.jpg)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/56ca44b1195baf2b9cdf794182934c15/1e68de6a373b8c9b-6c/s540x810/c1dd23866a6002c7af906dfc89d9554cfa6df631.jpg)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/fb343b29e2742179379e27575bd7b55c/1e68de6a373b8c9b-9c/s540x810/aa3e50f3df21f15db7853262a39cd4977f06ab52.jpg)
#jetpack joyride#jetpack joyride 2#barry steakfries#i was so bored so i draw some stoopid sketch ahh#Make it canon already my gosh#gay ships are for yay ships#Craigrry 4 ever#one of my favorite ships in my fav ship list#its just they are so cute together ahhhh#gosh I wanna make a gacha video of them so badly
5 notes
·
View notes
Text
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/d29d726c595483082833639917353e31/64cdb747674156e8-9b/s540x810/4624cc4ad1e68e7b192696edad1cd9d43a730893.jpg)
i just rewatched this ep and... wanteez editor had leaked crazy form since 7 months ago yall
#ann.txt#i know its also a known slang but to be used it here out of nowhere#i think we better just enjoy ateez's joyride i aint gonna look for hints anymore#also idk if its before crazy form's production or not but... its a month before bouncy so theres a possibility crazy form is already mixed
6 notes
·
View notes
Text
i need to finish the ref sheets for my sw ocs in time for artfight but zzzz someone kick my ass about it on monday or somethin
#i really wanna have them ready for artfight ive just been so.... idk#plus im at the pride parade tomorrow#.txt#need to do ones for volts and joyride and eshna and rallit... at least i already have ref sheets for miriya and ines
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
nothing good ive ever done matters at all
#squeaking#i give up. I fucking give up#I dont have anything to lose anymore#Im gonna be the worst kid ever#Im gonna bring drugs in the house and get dad fired from his stupid job#Im gonna steal the car and joyride#i dont care i dont care#Im gonna break all the dishes in the house#What are they gonna do? Theyve already taken away my friends#And my autonomy#im gonna get myself sent back to the hospital on purpose
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/f138da99bca3557f31277992a71d03ab/3d2e0d07aba725b2-0f/s540x810/346e412f8b1fce6081e9750e6a365ad1d4ca5b1e.jpg)
BITING INTO HIM ISTG 🥵🥵
oscar thighs and legs highlights
#fucking hell i found my kind of freaks here hello guys 😩😩😩#my eyes zoom in on his thighs immediately whenever he wears tiny shorts 🫠#i can’t help it those fucking thick thighs could crush my skull and suffocate me and i’d thank him 😩#felt like a freak putting these clips together beee whooo uuu areeeee#<- you’re doing the gods work exactly the content i LOVE to see 😮💨😮💨#btw the pic is from bahrain last year so he already had killer thighs 😮💨😮💨😮💨#and the tiny shorts he had on for the jeddah debrief video FUCK#need to find it!#even lando got distracted and kept staring at them 😮💨😮💨#the urge to jump on them for a joyride YEAH IM THAT FREAK#f1#oscar piastri
244 notes
·
View notes
Text
Hope that girl can keep the same "do absolutely nothing when a marginalized person harms you" when her car gets stolen and returned with several thousand dollars of needed repairs and barely works.
Like, I am disabled and had to walk for 45 minutes from the bus stop to the impound lot to get the car back. Not to even mention the fee for getting it back.
Would love to see how she reacts after that when given the chance to be vengeful.
#not to mention#just letting him go with no adress to his behaviour#especially for a student#means he is just going to keep doing it#and clearly hes gonna get caught cause he already has been#plus#he stole the catalytic converter#which implies this isnt his first time and that hes got connections that facilitate a life of crime#its not like he just went joyriding#that i could just fully ignore cause like#kids are dumb#but fully he clearly is involved with other criminals and if he continues to act carelessly someone with a more vengeful attitude#is going to get him thrown in jail
1 note
·
View note
Text
𝐍𝐎𝐂𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/05ffea2ed2bf4a78d3594d9d74250342/db752f021fe52615-35/s540x810/64830d982c169f44506d3baa9f473872cd98b771.jpg)
- zayne x reader
he is your husband and you are his wife. but of course you know the bitter truth—you will never be able to replace her.
genre/warnings: 18+ suggestive content—minors do not interact!—angst, hurt/comfort, unrequited love, drunken sex, mentions of injury, blood, hunter!reader (not l&ds mc -> l&ds mc is zayne's late ex-girlfriend here), spoilers! from zayne’s bond story nostalgic sweetness
note: wc. 8k ! i've been having these bits and pieces scenarios for zayne in mind and then i thought what if i combined it all into one angst joyride? :)) tagging per request: @kissxcore @rjreins @i2s2m @tom-pls-fuck-me @yueyoonie @sanriosatoru
07.15 p.m
Zayne would be getting off work soon. He had just finished an emergency surgery, and it had been exhausting. Now it was quite late.
“Dr. Zayne! Great job today!” Greyson exclaimed, suddenly strolling into his consultation room with a grin. “Want to grab dinner with us?”
Honestly, he was starving too. “Where?”
“Oh, you know, that new place that just opened nearby! They have the tastiest tiramisu, or so I’ve heard. C’mon, we’re inviting the nurses too!”
He knew he needed to head home soon, but fatigue and hunger blurred his thoughts at the mention of dessert.
“Alright.”
. . .
08.25 p.m
Getting together with the hospital staff was always nice. They were rowdy, but it was definitely a great way to unwind after a hard day.
The tiramisu was as great as Greyson said. Speaking of his assistant, he and Yvonne were having a blast. Other doctors were getting drunk. Zayne could only shake his head, and it suddenly dawned on him that he had been here quite a while.
It was only when he turned on his phone and saw the time that he realized, with sinking heart that—
He was supposed to meet you at six.
If you were asked how you felt about your life now, you’d be hard-pressed to say you were completely content.
You were a stellar fighter in the Hunter Association, more than content with your job, and you had a good husband. To some, you had what they would call the perfect life.
The wife of the Dr. Zayne. True, it was a flattering title, yet unbeknownst to everyone, also a humbling one.
And the notion struck you once again when your husband of almost two years stood you up on your dinner date without so much as a notice.
“Miss... we’re about to close now...” The waitress approached your table for at least the third time, and you nodded sheepishly, finally finishing your meal.
You paid for it and left the restaurant. The chilly night air hit your skin, giving you goosebumps as you walked home. It wasn’t the first time this had happened. Granted, Zayne had a packed schedule, and you figured he might've had an urgent matter to attend to that he forgot to let you know.
Still... it hurts. Knowing you were not a priority in your husband’s eyes wasn’t a fun feeling.
Your phone buzzed in your pocket the moment you arrived at your shared home. Your husband’s name flashed on your screen. The time now was 08.40 p.m.
“Hello, Zayne?”
“Y/N?” Your husband’s voice sounded frantic. “Are you still at the restaurant? I’m going—”
“Ah, no need to. I’m going home.”
“I’ll pick you up then. Stay there—”
“I’ve already arrived.”
An awkward silence settled between you, and you could clearly hear the noise on the other end. Greyson’s laughter was unmistakable.
You forced a laugh, still trying to sound cheerful for him even when realizing that he had completely forgotten about you. “It’s totally fine, Zayne! Are you heading back?”
“Yeah...”
“Take care then. See you at home.”
You ended the call with a sigh, trying to shake off the sting in your heart. As you made your way upstairs to your bedroom, you passed by a large portrait on the wall, and a bittersweet sensation washed over you.
Your wedding photo. Both of you were smiling on what was the most wonderful day of your life. Zayne’s smile was reserved, but yours was radiant.
It is the most wonderful thing that has happened to you... but is it the same for him?
At that time, despite everything, you were convinced a lifetime of happiness awaited you, yet now... it got harder to fool yourself into believing it.
Your marriage has always been lukewarm.
Zayne wasn’t an overly excited person, and you were his opposite—but try as you might, some things between you just didn’t work out. As a result, both of you tended to keep certain things to yourselves.
Most days, this didn't bother him. He valued his privacy, so the way things were suited him just fine. However, several days later, when Greyson approached him with a worried expression and a news, even Zayne had to draw the line.
“Dr. Zayne? Uh, how do I say this? I think I saw your wife being wheeled in earlier with the injured from the hunt zones raid…”
. . .
“Your husband is a doctor here. Why aren’t you calling him?”
Xavier, your fellow Deepspace Hunter who was partnered with you in this mission, questioned you with a hint of annoyance as he observed your pathetic state on the stretcher and crossed his arms. “Why do you have to bleed out in ER when you can get him?”
You winced, pressing the bloodied cloth against your stinging abdomen as you felt yourself growing faint. “He’s... a surgeon,” you panted. “He’s busy.”
Above all, you didn’t want Zayne to see you like this. You could already imagine his angry face, and that mental image alone made you recoil.
“What sort of husband is busy when his wife is injured?” Xavier raised an eyebrow. “Did you at least notify him?”
You shut your eyes, feeling a migraine coming.
“I will then.”
“No.”
“Y/N, you—”
“Shut up, Xavier—”
The curtain was suddenly pulled back, and you braced yourself for whoever had come to check on you next. To your surprise, the cloth in your hand was snatched away, and you felt your uniform being torn open with urgency.
When you opened your eyes, you barely made out your husband’s figure through your hazy vision. “…Zayne?”
His expression was stern, unforgiving even, as he started to disinfect your wound. Despite the tension, you couldn't deny the relief that washed over you. You knew you were in good hands, even if you had to face his fury later on.
Your consciousness slipped away not long after that.
. . .
The next time you woke up, you found yourself in a private room, with a nagging itch where you had been injured.
You groaned, your limbs stiff and heavy, and the room slowly came into focus—along with your husband's face.
"Zayne?" Your voice came out barely above a whisper. He stood pristine in his white coat and glasses, assessing you with a scrutinizing gaze.
"Your wound is, thankfully, shallow," he said flatly, his tone lacking any real concern. "You'll be discharged tonight. I'll take you home as soon as my shift is over."
"Ah..." You blinked several times to clear your head. "Good then. Sorry for showing up out of nowhere. Xavier and I were on a rescue mission, and I accidentally—"
He walked away before you could finish, the abruptness snapping you fully awake. He was furious, that much was clear.
"Ha ha..." You forced a laugh, fiddling with your fingers, trying to ease the awkward tension between you. "It doesn't hurt much, actually. You're right—I'm fine..."
Zayne shot you a sharp glance. "You passed out due to blood loss."
"This isn't the first time it has happened and nor will it be—"
"And it didn't even occur to you to inform me at all. I found out that my own wife was wounded because Greyson passed by the ER and saw you."
His words left you silent, caught red-handed, but your annoyance was reaching its limit. You had imagined how nice it would be if he panicked about you, showering you with care when he found out. But instead, Zayne chose to rebuke you the moment you woke up.
“I’m not a child,” you reasoned, keeping yourself calm. “I’m a hunter. This is nothing new, and you should understand that.”
“The least you could’ve done is to tell me—“
“Do you know why I didn’t? It’s because I know how you’ll react!”
“—and it would do you better to prioritize your safety and not rush headfirst into danger.”
“Believe me, I do but—!”
Suddenly, Zayne spun around to face you, his eyes blazing with fury as he raised his voice. “I’ve told you so many times already, you have to stay back, or you’ll end up—!”
He stopped abruptly, leaving his sentence hanging in the air, but right at that moment, you knew all too well who he meant, and what the implication was.
His, without a doubt, greatest love. His childhood friend, a hunter like yourself, someone he had vowed to save but succumbed to her illness before he could do so, died on arrival.
The irony was sharp. You had become everything she once was. You knew her well, too. When she passed, the entire Hunter Association mourned her loss. And more than that, on the night she died, you had been with him.
Looking back, you should have seen it coming. Still, it hit you like a splash of cold water. Your husband was still preoccupied with thoughts of his ex-girlfriend, and worse yet, he saw pieces of her in you.
And you suspected he had for a while—perhaps even, from the very beginning.
For a second there, not for the first time, you felt your heart shatter.
“I don’t have Protocore syndrome,” you stated, steeling yourself against the heartbreak. “My heart won't suddenly fail because I get injured. I’m not that weak.”
You turned away as Zayne refused to respond, missing his look of disdain as he stormed out of the room.
That was when your first tear fell.
Right from the start, you knew you had to brace yourself for this. You knew that eventually, this tragedy would overshadow your marriage. Because while Zayne might be your husband by law, deep down, his heart still belonged to someone else.
To her.
You two are too much alike.
It wasn’t the first time he had noticed it. And it wouldn’t be the last.
On bad mornings, when his eyes were bleary and he hadn't had a good sleep, he would see her instead of you in your shared bed. And with that mistaken sight came a fleeting sense of relief... until his vision cleared and he remembered she was truly gone and it was you.
Zayne knew how wrong this was on so many levels. It was terribly unfair to you.
Still, his concern for you was genuine. Seeing you lying still on the stretcher brought back that very same nightmare, and really, he truly never wanted you to be hurt.
After his outburst and your clipped response, the two of you barely exchanged any words for the rest of the week. To make matters worse, he was sent on a business trip the following week, and all in all, you went two weeks hardly speaking to each other.
And before he knew it, her death anniversary was only a couple of days away.
. . .
"How much is this?"
"Ah, the bow is 50,000 Gold, sir!"
Inside the airport's souvenir shop, Zayne examined the intricate light blue and white bow clip. Made of tweed and adorned with small pearls, it looked nice.
He thought it'd suit you well.
"I'll get this then."
"Right away!"
As the clerk went to wrap the trinket, Zayne reflected on these past two weeks. A nagging feeling twisted in his gut as he thought about how curt he had been with you in text messages and how often you had left him on read.
Husband and wife shouldn't be this way. He wanted the unbearable air between you to end. Determined to resolve things, he planned to talk to you when he returned. He was on his way to the airport taxi when—
"Zayne!" He stopped in his tracks, recognizing the familiar voice, and turned around.
There you were, waiting by his car with a smile.
It was never in you to stay angry for long. It was a blessing and a curse, really, because while you no longer wished to give your husband silent treatment, a part of you still felt conflicted.
"How was your trip?" you asked as you started the engine, pushing the events of the past two weeks to the back of your mind.
Zayne didn't immediately answer, and you felt his gaze on you as you drove the car. "It was okay."
You hummed in acknowledgement, and he followed up with, "How is your wound? Do you dress it daily?"
"Mm-hm. It's getting better."
"I'll have a look at it later."
"Sure."
Silence. Usually you would ramble to distract him, but now, even you weren’t sure if you should.
Then, he said, "You really didn’t have to pick me up. I could have made my way home on my own."
To that, you pasted on a smile. “You always pick me up whenever I have to go on business trips. It’s only fair I do the same for you, husband.”
Ah. Was it the wrong move? The word had slipped out so easily that you didn’t realize it until after you said it.
But to your surprise, Zayne let out a chuckle and played along. "Well, thank you then, wife. It certainly felt quite off without a certain someone the past week."
So, he actually likes having you around...? The thought made you almost giddy. Despite his usual taciturn and sarcastic demeanor, you knew he was genuine in his own way.
"Bet you missed me," you teased, grinning.
He raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Are you sure it's not the other way around?"
"Nope. But I did miss getting new snowmen."
"...why do you like them so much? I've made plenty for you already."
"No particular reason. Snowman just kinda reminds me of you somehow."
The tension between you had melted away, and you felt a sense of relief. Beside you, even Zayne couldn’t hide his smile. For the rest of the drive home, you chatted like you used to.
When you arrived back at your shared home, he suddenly stopped and presented you with a little box. "I got you something."
"Huh?" you paused, bewildered, as he took your hand and placed the box in it.
"Open it."
With curiosity, you lifted the lid, and were surprised at the sight of a pretty bow clip inside. "Whoa, how cute..."
Zayne eyed you expectantly. "Do you like it?"
Your eyes lit up with delight, and a smile spread across your lips.
"Yes!" you beamed at him with zero hesitation, and in that moment, something struck a chord within him. Zayne had always thought you were easy on the eyes—
—but when you smiled like that, you were truly charming.
"It's healing nicely."
You felt somewhat self-conscious as your husband examined your bare abdomen, where your injury was, as you lied on your bed. His hands, cool and practiced, tenderly removed your stitches.
It wasn't as if Zayne had never touched you. You two had been married for almost two years, and of course you had been intimate several times, but it wasn't as if you were a passionate couple to begin with—so you often found yourself flustered.
"Mm." Despite yourself, you squirmed. Noticing this, he looked up at you, his unfazed eyes meeting yours with a frown.
"Does it still hurt?"
"No, not really... It just feels as if you're tickling me."
He was positively unamused. "I'm not trying to tickle you."
"I know!"
Zayne wrapped your midsection securely with the bandage. When he was done, he let out a sigh and you felt like you had to show him your gratitude somehow.
“Thank you, Zayne…” you mumbled, avoiding eye contact. But in the next second, your heart skipped a beat as his hand rested gently on your head.
"You can thank me by being more careful next time." Your husband looked at you with the smallest of smile. "Your safety comes first, always remember that."
Without either of you realizing it, you both had tried to bury that argument from two weeks ago, yet it was still gnawing at you all the same. The thought that he too was bothered with it made you warm.
"Noted," you cheekily grinned. "If I'm not safe and sound, a certain iceman will get angry at me."
Zayne shot you an unimpressed look. “If you come to me injured again, I’ll start charging you fees.”
You let out a dramatic gasp. "How stingy! I'm your wife, not just some stranger!"
"A very uncooperative wife, you are."
You huffed, and he chuckled. You really thought all was well between you two now, until Zayne suddenly stood up and grabbed the car keys. “Well then, rest. I have to go.”
“Where are you going?”
“I’m going to stop by the florist—”
And it hit you. In two days. The day everything ended three years ago.
Zayne seemed to realize it too, but you quickly masked your falling smile with a faux one. "O-oh, right..."
No matter how, it's still going to be an important day to him. You had nothing against it, really. Your husband's late girlfriend had once been your colleague too, and you mourned her just like everyone else did.
Still, even with that understanding, in your heart of hearts, it remains just as bitter.
You didn't want to, but you needed to find closure. You hoped that by doing this, it would finally put an end to all your insecurities.
"Let's go together, Zayne. I want to pay her a visit too."
Two days later, you and Zayne, a bouquet of flowers in hand, stood before the grave bearing many colorful flowers and postcards.
You supposed you knew already, but seeing it firsthand, you realized just how deeply she was loved still. The outpouring of respect from the Hunter Association was evident in the tribute left behind.
"It's been a while," Zayne, dressed in his most formal black suit, said solemnly, his gaze fixed on the name etched into the pristine stone.
You watched as he knelt to place his flowers and then brought his hands together in prayer. You followed his lead, placing your own bouquet beside his.
What should you even say to her? Your mind raced with countless thoughts, but none felt right to voice before the woman who had so deeply captured your husband's heart.
In the end, when you sensed that Zayne had finished with his prayer, you decided to remain silent and rose with him.
. . .
“Does it get easier?” you asked out of curiosity afterwards. “Three years has passed already.”
Although Zayne wasn’t one for drinking, even the need won today. He didn’t meet your eyes as he sipped his wine, humming thoughtfully. “Somewhat. As they say, time heals.”
You two stopped by a fine restaurant after visiting the grave. The cemetery had been a two-hour drive from Linkon City, and now it was already evening.
“She loved jasmines,” you remarked, recalling the pot of them you once saw on her desk and the flowers overflowing at the grave earlier.
“She did.” The alcohol seemed to loosen his tongue as he continued, “She loved old popsicles and macarons too.”
“And you like them as well.”
“To be honest, I started liking them back when we were kids…” Zayne had this pained, faraway look in his eyes as he had another sip. “She cried over her melted popsicle and it got me to wonder if it was really that tasty...”
The idea that you had to compete with a dead woman for your husband’s affection left a bitter taste in your mouth. You felt like you had failed thoroughly as a wife.
Despite hating yourself for asking, you needed to know. “Do I help you… in any way at all?”
Zayne was clearly taken aback by the question. His sharp, gray eyes locked onto you, mind whirred as he tried to grasp your meaning.
“Y/N, you...”
It was foolish, you knew. But you waited with bated breath for his response, even when one wrong word could shatter your heart beyond repair. You were ready for any sort of unfavorable answer, but then—
“I... am glad it is you.”
His words made you look up, and you found yourself caught in his gaze. Zayne’s ashen eyes were steady, piercing into you.
“You were there on the hardest days. And ever since, you’ve always stayed by my side.” He held your gaze firmly, voice was thick with emotion you couldn’t quite name. “I’m grateful for that.”
And then, with a sincerity that pierced through every uncertainty, he added, “What I want to say is... I’m glad I married you, Y/N.”
You have loved him for so long. Since the days when you know he isn’t yours to love, until now.
Your heart swelled with so much warmth that tears brimmed in your eyes. His acknowledgment of your presence filled you with a profound sense of belonging you never knew you needed before.
Was it the alcohol?
You suspected it might be, because in nearly two years of marriage, Zayne had never lost his control like this. As soon as the bedroom door was shut, he pushed you against the wall and devoured your lips hungrily.
“Mmph!” His hands gripped your arms while his lips and tongue pried yours open. The kiss was searing, almost forceful, with the faint bitterness of wine still lingering.
“Zay…ne…” you gasped between his kisses—teary, breathless, your voice trembling.
But your breathy grunts only seemed to spur him on. His dark eyes, clouded with lust, fixed on you as his hands slipped beneath your blouse, deftly unclasping your bra with a flick.
He is hot. Your husband was everything a woman desired in a man. Cool, handsome, blessed with hands that could do wonders—
In no time, he had you naked and wet before him, and with alarming speed, he too discarded his own suit and pants, throwing them away in flurry. And you could hardly believe what you were seeing next.
He spitted on his hand, ran it along his member—stroking himself with a practiced ease, never breaking eye contact with you. The next thing you knew, he yanked you into another burning kiss and made you topple on top of him—
“Ah!” his hands guided your hips with precision, positioning you and entering you. The instant he did, you whimpered at the sudden, sharp sting of pain.
“Does it hurt?” he asked almost in a growl when you clung to his shoulder with uneven breaths.
It was too sudden, and you hoped the discomfort would pass, so you timidly shook your head.
“If you don’t want this, tell me to stop.” Zayne tangled his fingers in your hair, turning your face to his. “Understand?”
There was always a distinct, almost commanding aura about him whenever the two of you were in your marital bed. Perhaps the way his voice sound lower, but it just hit different.
And you are a willing prey... whenever he becomes that beast.
He inched inside you slowly, making you moan with each instance. He was thick, warm, and taking him in was a challenge in itself. And when he finally sheathed himself fully, your nails had made its first scratch on his skin.
You felt full, and the way your womanhood stretched and clenched around him with each breathe you took made you dizzy. Panting, you finally met his gaze. Zayne’s gray-hazel eyes were still clouded with desire as he placed his hands firmly on your hips. Unable to resist, you reached out to caress his face.
"Hmm..." he subconsciously leaned into your touch, pressing his eyes shut together. "You smell nice," he huskily muttered.
Right this moment, all negative thoughts eluded you. It felt gratifying that your husband sought your touch like this as you towered over him.
And yet, despite that...
“Do you... finally see me now?” you asked, trailing your other hand down his toned chest and starting to grind against him. Zayne drew in a sharp breath and groaned, his fingers gripping your bum tighter.
Depending on his response, you would either find peace or face another heartbreak. You had placed your happiness on this pedestal more times than you could count, and it was a cross you had to bear.
But you never received your answer.
Your husband merely gazed up at you with a dangerous gleam. And oh, you could've sworn, this sight of Zayne eyeing you as if he were about to ruin you right then and there, would live-free in your mind for many days to come.
He then buried his face in your bosom, sucking on you with such fervor that your hands instinctively reached for his head to massage his scalp. The room was soon filled with your erotic groans and the squelching sounds from where your flesh were joined together— as he thrusted inside you over and over.
Right in this moment, you felt truly desired and wanted.
You are so happy. Incomparably so.
At the crack of dawn, Zayne woke with a start.
The first thing he noticed was how spent he felt, his limbs stiff and a throbbing headache pulsing at the back of his head.
Then he turned to his side, and the sight that met him twisted his gut in such a way that snapped him fully awake—
You were beside him, barely dressed and still deeply asleep. Your hair was a mess, and love bites were scattered across your skin, some on your chest looking almost like bruises.
It dawned on him that he, too, wasn’t decent. A sudden coldness gripped him, though it wasn’t just the morning air.
Him and you... last night...
Yesterday marked the third year. He meant everything he said to you, but the fact that he did this, with you, on the day of her death...
There was... nothing wrong with what he had done. You were his wife, no one could condone him for what he instigated. Yet, it still made him shiver.
And to make it worse, his thoughts from last night echoed back with vengeance, and—
He suddenly feels so immensely guilty.
. . .
It was the best sleep you’d had all week.
When you woke, sunlight had seeped through the window, and you discovered yourself already in pajamas, tucked snugly under a blanket. Still groggy with a dull ache in your lower belly, you relished the lingering afterglow, sighing in pure contentment, until you noticed Zayne wasn’t beside you.
Where did he go? You wondered amidst your haze. Sluggish, you stumbled out of the bed, flinching when your foot met the cold floor.
You eventually found him downstairs, sipping coffee at the dining table still with messy hair. "Zayne?"
He glanced up at you and nodded. There was something different about him, a subtle shift you couldn’t quite place. As you took a seat across from him, you hesitated, unsure of what to say.
Before you could find the right words though, he spoke first.
"I'm... sorry," he said, his tone laced with regret, causing a sharp pang of unease inside you.
"What?" you stared at him, feeling small and unsettled. "What are you sorry for?" you questioned as you gripped the hem of your shirt.
And then came the killing blow—
"Last night," Zayne muttered, avoiding your gaze. "I wasn’t in the right frame of mind. It was a mistake."
Mistake. The word echoed in your mind, but it was still hard to grasp its full weight.
"How was that—" you faltered, trembling, as the realization hit you like a truck and you gasped in disbelief. "Oh..."
Her. Again, and again, and again! Even when he was married to you, even when you were the one next to him each and everyday— even so!
Your husband considers that a night spent with you—his wife—a mistake!
The last of your patience snapped, as you broke down in sobs before him. "You're the worst!" you screamed at him amidst your mournful tears.
Zayne seemed taken aback at your outburst, his eyes wide. "Y/N, wait, you don't—"
"Screw you!" But you were beyond explanations at this point. You fled back to your bedroom. Zayne followed you suit, but you slammed the door in his face and locked it. As you collapsed onto the floor, the realization hit you with full force.
No matter what you did, you would always come second—or not at all.
The fracture in your marriage was undeniable.
Things had changed. Your home felt colder, and the tension was so stifling that you sometimes spent the night at the Hunter Association’s dorm just to escape it.
Zayne initially tried to reach out, but you were unwilling to listen, and eventually, he gave up. Before long, nearly a month had passed with this strain in the air.
You threw yourself into more rescue operations, using work as a distraction from the turmoil that lingered in your mind. Despite your best efforts to distract yourself, the unresolved thoughts and feelings clung to you.
"Xavier, am I lacking as a woman?"
Your frequent partner these days cracked open an eye despite his attempt to nap before today’s rescue mission. "What...?"
"No, forget it."
Things couldn't go like this forever. It was obvious by now—as long as he couldn’t let go of his past and you couldn’t accept him as he was, this marriage couldn't be saved.
Just as you headed towards the printer in the room, Xavier responded. "You talk a lot, eat a lot, and always bothering me when I'm about to sleep..."
You shot him an irked glance, disbelief evident on your face. "Hey!"
"But—" his clear voice cut through the air as he turned to you with half-lidded eyes. "You're exceptionally kind. If anyone can't appreciate that, then it's their loss."
At that moment, the ice inside your chest melted. To know that your own co-worker thought that kindly of you gave you a little boost of confidence.
But then Xavier added, "Sometimes you're stupid too. It's funny to watch."
"—?! You're so mean!"
A subtle smile curved on his lips as he turned to his side, ready to resume his nap. "Anyway, what are you printing?"
You feigned a huff as you gathered the papers and brought them to your desk. "Just something I need to submit when necessary."
A part of you wasn’t fully committed to it, of course—it was just that your emotions had no proper outlet even until now. As you pushed the drawer shut, a wave of bitterness washed over you as you reread the title on the blank form:
Petition for Divorce.
Zayne genuinely wanted to treat you well.
You were a nice girl. Too nice even. From the moment he laid his eyes on you some years ago, as a friend of a friend, he knew you were nothing but kind and cheery.
He still remembered that morning vividly: the hurt on your face, the tears welling up in your eyes, and then you breaking into inconsolable sobs. That sight inflicted something in him—it felt as though his own heart had been split in two.
Believe it or not, he cherished you too.
That night, even though he didn’t show it, he was still mourning her. When alcohol took over his mind and he saw you, you seemed like a perfect escape. He thought that even if he forced himself on you, there would be no consequences.
He hated that he had thought that way. He hated that how, in the end, you had become a means of relief for him.
Now you couldn't even look him in the eye, and Zayne didn't want to risk trying to coax you further. You were angry with him and rightly so, but when you ignored him and went home late more often, he was worried.
It was what drove him to volunteer for the rescue mission. When he saw your name on the hunter list, he felt compelled to make sure you were okay.
. . .
It was strange to see you on duty.
With your hunter uniform and your hair tied up, you were the picture of a very capable hunter. Zayne found himself unexpectedly following your movements as you came and went.
"Dr. Zayne, are you checking your wife out?" the EMT next to him teased with a grin. "Well, when you have a pretty wife such as Y/N, of course..."
He cleared his throat and the EMT giggled as he sauntered away.
So, you were also considered attractive here. Of course you were. Zayne knew it, but he just didn't expect that anyone here would blurt it out so openly.
But that wasn't the most surprising of all—
"Xavier, shush!" you playfully punched the blonde man next to you in the chest, your broad smile lighting up the moment. The two of you whispered closely, and Zayne found himself feeling uncomfortable, like being prickled by several needles.
He has never made you laugh so openly like that. The nagging feeling inside him grew stronger as he watched you—even if it was just in a platonic sense—with another man. It stirred something within him, making him want to pull that blonde aside, give him a word or two, and overthrow him altogether.
Amidst the growing storm inside him, you suddenly turned sideways and caught his eye, and Zayne could've sworn... he felt time stopped at that moment.
It was so candid that it took his breath away. The way your earnest, unclouded eyes met his. How natural you were while loading your gun...
Ah, they were right. His wife was exceptionally pretty.
But before he could fully appreciate it, you broke the eye contact and turned away, pretending as if you hadn’t seen him at all.
Zayne wondered then, why did he feel so hurt all of a sudden?
Battlefields were always a place of chaos, and Zayne was no stranger to it.
He was on standby at the makeshift hospital as patients surged in, continuously aiding first-aid. Some were hunters on duty, and his heart was in his throat the entire time, anxiously hoping you wouldn’t be among them.
"Doc... it still hurts," a little girl sniffled right after Zayne wrapped her injured arm with the gauze. Despite the anxiety, seeing this tearful girl softened his frown.
"It's just going to take a while, hmm?" he patted the kid in the head. "It's going to be better soon enough."
"My mom is still inside..." she said, her eyes welling up with tears. "Doc, will they get her out?"
Zayne hesitated, his thoughts briefly drifting to you. He managed a reassuring smile. "Don’t worry, they’ll—"
Crash! —all of a sudden, a loud explosion shook the hospital, the sound echoing through the chaos. The little girl clung to his coat in fear.
"Call for retreat!" someone suddenly shouted from outside. "Alert all personnel immediately!"
Retreat. The thought that you might be safe soon brought him a sense of relief. He turned to the girl, trying to keep his composure.
"Look, the hunters are retreating, it means most are already evacuated." Zayne managed a reassuring smile. "Stay here. I'll help you find her later, okay?"
He went to the survivors' camp outside, attending to the wounded and keeping a vigilant eye on each returning hunter. Even until 30 minutes later, he still hadn't seen you. Thinking to contact you, he reached out for his phone.
"Who hasn't gotten out?" Jenna, your team leader, demanded the receiver with a stern voice, standing tall several feet away from the camp, and Zayne overheard the snippets of her conversation.
A frantic voice responded, "Xavier is still inside! Y/N too!"
"Those two! They are always—!"
What?
Zayne almost dropped his phone when he heard your name. Terror gripped him instantly, and then suddenly, again, it was his greatest nightmare realized.
You are still inside. You could be hurt. It was possible you had no means to get out of there.
He didn’t register letting go of his coat or crossing the police line—all that mattered was getting to you. He sprinted away, ignoring the shouts of those trying to stop him.
No. Not again!
Debris flew everywhere, and the roars of Wanderers grew louder as he neared the building wreckage. As a splinter was about to hit him, ice shot through his palms, creating a barrier that shattered it.
"Y/N!" he shouted your name, his voice cracking with panic. "Where are you?!"
All he could think about was the memory of you bleeding out in the ER. Zayne never wanted to see that again. Should anything happen to you now...
He didn't want you to be hurt. He hated seeing you cry. For the past weeks, it had torn him apart to see you so unhappy. He wanted to be the one who made you smile, the one you looked at with love.
The realization washed over him like a tidal wave. Yet it wasn’t an epiphany but a simple truth he had always known but never fully grasped until now.
If he lost you now, it'd destroy him.
He continued screaming your name over and over. And then, after turning several turns, he finally saw you, standing alone in the middle of the wreckage—
You turned to him in surprise when you heard your name in his shout, and were rooted to the spot, in disbelief that your husband was right before you.
Zayne felt a wave of relief wash over him, until a hollow croak from above caught his attention. He squinted—
A glass panel had crumbled and was falling directly towards you.
A sense of dread so great overwhelmed him, a lump formed in his throat, and the smoke made it hard to breathe. He sprinted forward, and with everything he had, he pushed you out the way.
The next thing he knew, everything went pitch black.
"Zayne? Zayne!"
A memory flashed in his mind's eye. The one memory he wished he didn't have to relive ever again.
Sitting on the deserted hospital bench, his eyes were vacant. Utter hollowness choked him, leaving him motionless. It was over. There was no blood on his hands, yet it felt as if there were.
Your grip on his shoulder was tight, shaking him. "Zayne, snap out of it!" and only then he brought himself to meet your eyes.
"She died." That was the only thing he could mutter, pain woven in each word. "She really died."
Your eyes widened in horror, an inaudible gasp left your lips. "Oh..."
He didn't really know what happened next, but he remembered the warmth from when you pulled him to your arms, when sobs wracked his body as he thought the world was ending.
Since then, you have always been there.
And subconsciously, he may have regarded you as his lifeline.
. . .
Another memory.
"Are you awake...?"
His mind was hazy, but he recognized your voice. He blearily opened his eyes to find you placing a cool compress on his forehead.
"Who would have thought the great Dr. Zayne can get a fever?" you said with a soft laugh, patting his hair. "Don’t worry about me. Go back to sleep."
You came to see him. He remembered telling you not to. But you still did, and the fact thawed the ice in his heart.
Just as you were about to leave, his hand reached out and pulled you closer. "Don’t go."
"Are you trying to make me catch your cold too?" you teased with a soft laugh.
"Hmph. Who told you to come here...?"
"Ah, so you're whiny when you're not feeling well," you observed with a smile. "Okay, I'll stay! But only if you agree to nurse me if I catch your cold!"
You were noisy, but endearingly so.
. . .
"Don't pay her any mind," you fidgeted on your seat, a frown on your face. "My mom always does that."
There was never any talk about the nature your relationship between the two of you, but it was clear to everyone nevertheless. You were always around him, and he seemed to enjoy your company just as much.
And not for the first time, your mother pushed him towards marriage with you.
"People are always getting the wrong idea," you grumbled. "Sorry, Zayne..." you lowered your head, seemingly in regret.
He was puzzled, because to him, it wasn't necessarily false. All things you did together lead to this.
"What if it isn't a wrong idea at all?"
You looked at him with slight surprise. "Huh...?"
Your presence was a gift. That tragedy was devastating, but having you constantly by his side made it bearable. He was fond of you, and the thought that if it's you, then surely...
In this memory, he was more sure than ever. What he said then, it came from the truest place in his heart.
"What if I told you... as of right now, I can't imagine being with anyone but you?"
The side of his head was throbbing with pain. Everything hurt, the hard asphalt was bruising his face as the headache set in. He could smell the scent of blood and sweat, but more than that—
"Zayne! Ah, hah— Please, please! No!"
Your voice, choked with tears, blared in his ears as you desperately shook him. You sounded so heartbroken, so utterly panicked, and your voice gradually pulled him back to consciousness.
Opening his eyes took tremendous effort. At first, everything was a blur, but then it came into focus—the sight of you disheveled, smeared with soot, with tears streaming down your face. But still you— the woman he had married two years ago.
Yet his heart lurched. You're crying again... why is it that whenever with me, you're always crying?
"Are you... alright?" he rasped, lifting his hand to touch your face.
"Why did you—" You were startled by his question, your gaze fixed on the blood pooling on the side of his face. "Your head is bleeding!"
Ah, so you're fine. The sheer knowledge brought him relief, a faint smile forming at his lips. "I'm glad..."
"I'll help you get back! Hold onto me—" you said after brushing away your tears, lifting him up and draping his arm around your shoulder. "Can you walk?"
"I'm... fine..."
"You're not!" you refuted harshly, voice trembling. "You have to go back!"
You made him lean on you as you made your way back to the makeshift hospital, each step accompanied by your sniffles as you supported his waist.
Zayne glanced at you, feeling a warmth in his chest despite the migraine. "D-Don't cry... I'll be fine."
"You're an idiot!" you choked out, struggling to hold back your tears. "Why did you even come out here?"
"I... have to find you. They said you haven't returned."
"There are still civilians inside! I'll return eventually!"
"I can’t wait for that. I... have to know you're safe."
His response only fueled your frustration. "You don't have to—!"
"You are my wife—" he snapped, turning to you sharply, his eyes flashing with anger. "How can I not worry— for you?"
The forceful tone in his voice went straight to the most tender part of your heart. It really struck you at that moment that he had come out here for you, that his concern for you was that profound.
And that after all these weeks, he still keeps you in his thoughts.
He had pushed you out of the way, even at the cost of himself, barely missing the fallen billboard in that violent crash. If he was in the wrong position, he could've lost his life.
You stared at him, tears glossing your eyes.
"That's enough... Don't cry again." Zayne reached out to wipe your cheeks. His hands, however, were smeared with his own blood, leaving streaks on your face. "Ah... I got blood on you..."
But in that moment, you couldn’t care less. There was this indescribable sting of grief, but also paired with a sense of relief so great in your chest the very second you realize that now, he sees you.
You threw yourself into his arms, hugging him tightly as you sobbed, calling out to him in broken voice. “Z-Zayne...!”
“Why are you crying again...?” he let out a resigned sigh, but still embraced you regardless. “What a crybaby...”
You buried your face deeper into him, shaking uncontrollably. “You... saved me...” you managed to say amidst torrent of tears. “Y-You... got hurt...”
“I’ll be fine,” he retorted in your ear albeit in a hoarse voice, holding you close, even as blood trickled down the side of his face. “And I’d do it again. I refuse to see you hurt.”
You cried harder, and he pulled you tighter, his chest aching at the sight of you so inconsolable. And in that moment, he made the decision right then and there.
He will protect you so long as time will allow him to.
It was as if the invisible wall between you had crumbled to dust after that incident. You stayed by Zayne's side night and day, monitoring his condition.
And one night, several days later...
"Here, don't move..."
You carefully dressed the wound on Zayne's temple, sitting close beside him. He quietly observed your worried eyes and trembling fingers without a word.
"You even need stitches..." you lamented, biting your lip as you wrapped the bandage around his head. Tears pricked your eyes, overwhelmed by the concern you were pouring into the task.
"I'm telling you, I'm fine," he gruffly insisted in an attempt to erase your mournful expression. He felt the delicate, almost hesitant touch of your fingers on his face. "It'll heal with time."
Even as he said that, a part of you was still troubled at the sight of the wound on his head and cheekbone. No matter what he said, you couldn’t shake the feeling that it was somehow your fault.
"I'm done. Now go rest," you said softly, your voice tinged with bitterness after tying the gauze. You rose to put the kit away, but even after you finished, Zayne remained upright on the bed, so you leveled a frown at him.
"What, why aren't you— Ah!"
Before you knew it, he pulled you by the arm, and you tumbled into his chest in surprise. "What are you doing?!" you yelled at him, clinging to his shoulder and looking up at him with ire. "You could've hit your head!"
He looked down at you with a flat expression, or is that a hint of amusement glinting in his eyes? “Can't a husband cuddle his wife?”
You blinked dumbly, caught off-guard. “Yes, you can, but...”
His arms then enveloped you, fitting you on his chest and he sighed against your hair. “Then there’s nothing wrong with it. Let’s just stay like this for now.”
And so, that was how he decided to sleep throughout the night—with you on top of him, held close. You felt self-conscious as Zayne had never initiated this closeness with you since that night.
"Are you sure you want to sleep this way?" you wriggled a bit in his grasp.
He draped an arm around your waist, pressing his eyes shut. "Mm-hm."
"You..." A part of you recoiled at the vulnerability but decided to ask anyway. "Won't this be… a mistake...?"
That caught his attention, as Zayne's eyes fluttered open. He looked down at you, who avoided his gaze with a pout and a torn expression, making yourself small in his embrace.
It dawned on him then that this persisting issue in your marriage was thoroughly his fault. His past was something he could never—and would never—trade for anything, but right now, you were that sense of peace that grounded him.
At one point, he has to let it go. These feelings inside him… they drive him to.
He softened, his gaze full of understanding as he gently brushed your hair back. "No," he said quietly, his voice tender. "We’ve come too far for it to be one."
Your clear, innocent eyes reluctantly met his, and at that moment something akin to clarity resonated within him.
He once thought nothing could ever mend the hollowness in his heart. And once, he indeed hoped that being with you would provide some form of relief or replace what he had lost.
But right now, feeling how vulnerable you were in his arms like this, he understood that you were not, and could never be, a replacement for anything else. Even before he realized it himself, what he felt for you was something entirely different— something dear that had grown and evolved into a genuine affection different from what he had felt for anyone else before.
Those times spent with you, wanting to protect you... Now that he reflected on it, it was never about filling a void, after all.
“I... want to treasure you better.”
Oh. Your heart thumped loudly as those words left his lips, warmth spreading through your entire being. Overwhelmed by the sincerity in his voice, you clung to his chest, feeling a surge of love and a profound sense of being freed from the chains of insecurity that had taken you hostage all these years.
Most precious. Zayne smiled at you, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.
“This time for sure... I will.”
And at last... he could say it without any lingering guilt.
#zayne x reader#lads zayne x reader#love and deepspace x reader#l&ds x reader#lads x reader#love and deepspace x you#lads x you#l&ds x you#zayne x you#zayne angst#zayne smut#zayne fic#lads smut#l&ds fic#lads angst#lads zayne#zayne l&ds#zayne love and deepspace#love and deepspace smut#love and deepspace#lads#l&ds#l&ds smut#l&ds zayne#l&ds scenarios#lads scenarios#love and deepspace scenarios#lads fic#love and deepspace fic#love and deepspace zayne
5K notes
·
View notes
Text
watching a video essay on the concept of the song of the summer and thinking about how much better danger days would’ve performed if it had been a summer release
#could you imagine the summer joyrides that would’ve happened if nanana landed in may or june#as it is my friends and i spent the following summer blasting it during our drives down the shore#*this is kind of a summary statement since some of us already lived down there
1 note
·
View note
Text
Biker!Toji live-streaming on instagram, his dark helmet covering his chiseled face and scarred lips, but the muscle shirt donning his torso doesn’t leave much to the imagination.
Biker!Toji coming home to you after a long day at work, after going for a joyride of over 80 mph earning a lecture from you about needing to be safe.
Biker!Toji who shuts you up in the middle of your rant, lips crashing into yours in a hot needy kiss, moaning your name low against you lips.
Biker!Toji who makes quick work of throwing your clothes to the side, his compression shirt still on highlighting the dip and curves of his perfect torso, your hands worshipping the hard work put into them, your lips trailing kisses all the way down his abdomen all the way down, down, down to the tip of his aching cock, dripping with pre cum already.
Biker!Toji likes it messy. Tugging on your hair and thrusting his cock into your throat again and again using you like his own personal toy, only giving you air to breath when tears start to flow from your eyes.
Biker!Toji loosens the grip he has on your hair, but not letting go. Not yet. “Cmon doll? That’s all it took for me to wreck that pretty little face of yours?”
Biker!Toji tossing you over his shoulder and pinning you down to your shared bed, silky bedsheets feeling cool to the touch on your bare back. His hands roam you body, exploring every dip and curve, memorizing the shape of your hips, and his favorite part, your perfect perky ass.
Biker!Toji’s got you in doggystyle in a matter of seconds, fucking you deeply from behind, cock pistoning in and out of your sloppy hole at a dizzying pace, the sound of your greedy cunt soaking his cock in a slick sheen echoing through the room.
Biker!Toji fucks you until your voice is raw and hoarse, gripping the bedsheets beneath you and your face buried in a pillow, him grabbing your hips meanly and fucking his entire length inside you, making you see stars when he hits that sweet spot over and over, the overstimulation too much for you to handle and the coil low in your belly snapping hard and fast, cumming all over him and making a mess of the bed beneath you, slick trickling down you thigh.
Biker!Toji fucking you through your orgasm, “aww fuck doll you’re so fuckin’ hah- tight” taunting and teasing you with his mean tongue until you cum over and over again all over him.
Biker!Toji finishing deep inside your snug cunt, his seed spilling out of your core, his fingers coming up to your throbbing clit, circling it a few times causing a meek whimper to escape your lips.
Biker!Toji carrying you to the bathroom and drawing a nice bath for you both, washing your hair and letting you do the same for him. After getting cleaned up he puts on your guys’ favorite movie and you fall asleep on him, his fingers running through your now-dry hair, admiring how happy and peaceful you are. He won’t ever admit it, he he does have a soft spot for you.
#jjk smut#jjk x reader#jjk x you#toji x reader smut#toji x y/n#toji x you#toji smut#toji fushiguro#toji x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jjk toji#jjk#jujutsu kaisen toji#toji zenin
881 notes
·
View notes
Text
𝐄𝐮𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐚 - 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐬 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
𝟏𝟖+. 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭.
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/c12c76a37588f13c454d35963feba3d2/027b50a038e56caf-85/s540x810/7cfc873ac15804bcdb9ed03eda1d767e16d20a29.jpg)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/3356134e96810954fe875aafbebf5e2b/027b50a038e56caf-e8/s540x810/c439973193ddb14386a7d91c25e7996ce56ad142.jpg)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/4e9a683df8b337b98000df284d9fe18f/027b50a038e56caf-89/s540x810/2849655976b1f183966a0a0097723b3a3bae196c.jpg)
summary : you know better than to talk to other guys.
tw : dubcon [consent isn’t clearly voiced, but reader has mixed emotions] rough sex, jealousy, yandere themes, toxic behaviors, hate fucking, no protection, creampie, possessive Thanos
words : 4.9k
notes : NOT PROOF READ (we die like men). sorry this took so long,,,,, what’s up with me liking bathroom sex? Anyways, the anon who sent in this request- holy fuck. I just want to say that I didn’t really care for Thanos at first but after watching edits of him and rewatching the season, I fell madly in love with him. So. I thank the anon who sent in this request !
It was a massacre, the last game.
The stench of body odor and copper lingers within the white-brick walled room. The sterile lights practically assault your brain after the game you just played.
The air always felt eerily lighter after a game, like fate had granted mercy, allowing you to survive one more day. Your body’s still lively, already sore from being pulled and grabbed in different directions in Mingle. The adrenaline pumps fiercely, nausea pills within your gut and it doesn’t feel like it’ll die down soon. The guards had handed out food once the headcount was confirmed, but you simply don’t have the appetite. You mindlessly pick at your food, pushing it around the plastic tupperware as you mull over the same new dilemma of your current life. Of how everytime that damned glass pig falls from the ceiling, when the lights dim and the pot glows, lightening up the faces below, more and more money dumps into the pot.
The money of lives lost.
It was strange, how after every game, most of the people are ill with fear, at least the ones who weren’t sadists. Their eyes sunken and glossy, their bodies stiff, their clothes splattered in the blood of the poor victim next to them. They all witnessed atrocities that would haunt them for the rest of their lives, but that all seemed to wash away when money came into play. It all washed away knowing that you were chosen to live another day.
When it comes time for the vote, it’s like most of them want to take luck on a joyride, forgetting that they could possibly be next. All you have to do is believe you’ll be lucky the next and the next right? Just one more, right? Fuck the person beside you.
As long as it wasn’t you, right?
Despite pressing “X” game after game, you take a chance on hope, you pray that humanity hasn’t lost what little morality they have left, or whatever god or gods haven’t abandoned humanity.
You aren’t a monster. Money is the reason why you opted to play childhood games for money, but you didn’t want it like this. You fear every time that gun goes off, sometimes anticipating it before it happens, knowing someone had messed up and would pay for their life. A small drop in the bucket. Once, the shooters were so close to you that the sound of the gunshots one after the other ricocheted through your ear drums. Blood splattered your face, warm and reeking of copper after the men in the six legged race beside you spent their last moments on earth begging for their life. Thanos couldn’t have picked a better spot to sit and watch, and you spent hours scrubbing your skin raw to get the blood off in the bathroom sink.
You didn’t feel clean after.
“Min-su, you need to eat.” You mumble, weird how tight your face feels right now. Moving your own lips feels like a chore. You scan the crowd of people mingling quietly as they eat. How absolutely absurd that they can even stomach eating right now.
The baby-faced man just hums in response. It’s hard to believe he’s 27 with the way he acts, let alone his looks.
“I’m not really hungry either.” You shrug. Turning to him, Min-su’s attention is elsewhere. Empty eyes stare off into a group of people on the other side of the room, but you can tell he’s not really looking at them. He’s on a different planet, seeing through the wall, staring through a state of nothingness.
Dissociating from reality gets you far here when there’s downtime.
“But you have to at least hydrate. Today was a lot.” You offer him your bottled water, still unopened since his was already empty, forgotten at his feet. You couldn’t stomach liquids either, might as well give it away.
“Min-su.” You say louder, your cheekbones ache, your eyes sting.
“Y-yeah?”
“Drink.” Despite your skin protesting, you smile. His youthful face is still pristine, and you can’t believe it. Even yourself, slipping and sliding, running through pools of red after the last game, can feel the crust of dried blood on your chin, the dampness of it seeping through your clothes.
Thankfully, he takes your offer, immediately opening it to slug it down. It’s probably the most normal you’ve seen him.
Satisfied, you playfully shove his knee.
“Next vote, we’ll all say ‘no more.’” You reassure him. ”Then we can all go home and eat a real meal. Wouldn’t that be nice?” With the little time you’ve been here, food seemed to dwindle less and less each serving.
His puppy-like eyes light up just a little, a small curve of his lips gives you hope that someone is still behind those eyes.
“Yeah, that would be nice.”
”Maybe we can go to this new restaurant they just opened in my neighborhood. I heard they have the best bibimbap, I just haven’t had the time to go.” Or the money.
“You’d like to go with me?”
And for some reason, that pinched your heart. You don’t know anything about the kid, hell, he could be in crippling debt from shady shit, but you can’t help but want to reach out a hand to him. Clearly, he’s an adult, but you don’t think he could make his own decision even if his life depended on it. That’s why-
“Hey!”
That’s why he’s a sheep, following a man like Thanos because he can’t just say no.
“I said hey! You goin’ fucking deaf?” Without turning, you already know that voice, those steps.
”I thought you were my brother, man. The hell you doing talkin’ to my girl?” Thanos’s voice towers over you from behind. Taking a deep breath to close your eyes, wishing you were anywhere but here.
Min-su's eyes grow wide, his mouth opens to speak, but he freezes.
Fingers flip your hair for attention, but you remain facing Min-su.
“You trying to fuck with me? Over here smiling and shit.” Thanos takes a seat on the steps beside you, fingers twirling your hair. “You won’t win her over like that, my boy. Takes a real man to handle this one.” You cringe, you always did when he spewed his bullshit.
“What’s so funny, huh?” He tests.
Min-su’s eyes dart back and forth between the two of you.
From your peripheral, Thanos’s face is close to yours, watching every muscle. His head cocks to the side, lips forming a pout and subtly nods his head up and down.
He’s high. It wasn’t even a week and you can tell his antics. He must have taken a pill of god-knows-what from his necklace.
For some unknown and unsolicited reason to you, Thanos has sunken his claws into you day one.
You were in line, waiting to take your picture when a guy vaguely familiar to you was suddenly surrounded by what looked like fans. Number 230. Girls fawned over him, guys wanting to chop up a conversation - a rapper, one reminds you. Now how the fuck does a famous rapper get into a place like this? He must have spent every ‘earning’ dollar on foreign cars, drugs, girls… Money can’t buy intelligence.
He had locked eyes with you after being scolded by the pink guard, and before he entered the stairwell, he gestured a heart with his hands.
He seemed like a normal, cocky guy with little quirks at first. Never being one to enter the scene of his caliber, you figured it was normal the way he carried himself. Never did you think he’d actually take a liking to you to the point of being a nuisance. You’ve come to find out that he was a sociopath and terrifying during the games. One pop of those pills and he’d cause chaos purposefully. To your shock, the purple haired man who gave you a heart just 10 minutes ago, pushed 3 innocent people during red light green light and smiled when they were shot. Skipping around, twirling and dancing while others ran for their life to cross that finish line.
After the first game, he approached with confidence, spitting out a freestyle about how he fancies you. Confessing empty feelings towards you and sitting uncomfortably close during the first dinner. You didn’t pay much attention to him, but it didn’t phase him. You were already locked in, forced to participate in these games with him as an ally.
No matter how much you pull away, how much you ignore, his leg will always touch yours, his fingers will always thread through your hair, his eyes will always find yours, always watching and waiting. He never missed a moment to compliment you, to touch you gently, even when you haven’t showered in days. For why, you didn’t know. Night one, he had even threatened someone to take the bed next to yours.
You were pulled into the next game with him, and thankfully you were good at ddakji, giving your team a jumpstart with time. And to your surprise of his coordination, he was good at jegi. With Mingle, Thanos kept a bruising grip on your forearm, keeping you close, not more than a hair's length from him. Even when the game called for 2 people, he’d abandoned his friend to pull you in a room.
“Just one more game, yeah? I want to see you join the O gang.” He said sweetly, pressing the pad of his fingers into the palm of your hand. “You’re not trying to leave me, are you? After this we can leave here together.” Whether he meant it or not, you could care less. You wanted to leave. Leave him and these games behind. To hell with the money at this point.
And when you pressed that “X”, keeping your badge of hope, you could feel the daggers from across the room. He was furious. Surprisingly, he didn’t voice it, because after all was said and done, the majority ruled in favor of continuing the games, breaking your heart into little itty bitty shards of glass. Your fire had faded, your faith had been shattered, but Thanos didn’t care. He was so happy that he picked you up and spun you around, rambling about how he has more time with you now.
“My boy, I asked what’s so fucking funny? Hello?” Thanos waves his hand obnoxiously between the two of you.
“Would you just leave it? We were just-“
Thanos’s eyes find the two empty water bottles beside the man in front of you. Putting two and two together, he snaps. Thanos lunges forward, threatening to grab Min-su by the collar, but he stops before he does.
”Did you give your shit to him? What, didn’t want to ask me if I needed it first?” Towering over the two of you, the purple haired man taps his chest, swaying over his feet.
“Babygirl,” his voice drawls, “why you gotta do me like that?”
It’s been too long of a day, your body aches, your head pounds at the inside of your skull… you’re done with this. Standing up, you give a reassuring smile to Min-su before stepping down the stairs to head to the bathroom.
To your relief, Thanos doesn’t follow. While everyone left around you crawls up to their bed, the announcement blares on the overhead speakers in that unnatural feminine voice, “LIGHTS OUT IN 10 MINUTES.”
Standing before the pink guard, you request to use the bathroom and thankfully, whoever is under that mask, doesn’t give you a hard time. He simply steps aside to let you walk down the sickly pesto pink hallway to the women’s lavatory.
Your steps echo over the pristine white tile, sterile lights glow from the ceiling as you scan the long and empty bathroom. You’re the only one here. Sighing, you stand over the sink and collect yourself.
Your clothes reek of decay, the wrists of your jacket damp and sticky - and you were right about feeling that dried blood on your chin. Your eyes are sunken and glossy, your hair messy and unbrushed and the beds of your fingernails are crusted in red bodily fluids.
Enjoying the moments of silence underneath the fluorescent glow, you begin your nightly routine scrubbing yourself clean.
“LIGHTS OUT IN 10…9…8…7…6…5…4…3…2…1”
The bathroom remains lit, and you give it a second for the pink guard to come get you, but all you hear is the water dripping from the faucet and… otherwise complete silence. Your eyes watch the door to your left, but it remains still as it was.
They must have forgotten you were in here, but that doesn’t bother you. This was the first time you’ve heard silence in days. No snoring, no rustling of bedding, no screaming, gunshots, crying, praying… just complete and utter silence.
You’ve only had a moment to begin fixing your hair when you hear the hinges of the door creak open.
Turning your head, you’re met with Thanos swaggering into the room, heels scuffling over the tile. Eyes like daggers remain fixated on you by the sink.
“There you are, my baby girl. Why’d you dip on me earlier? I was trying to defend my girl.” He says casually, leaning against the wall.
You can admit the fact that the man before you is… attractive. His sharp facial features stand out in a crowd. The tattoos that litter his skin give even more of an edge to him. He’s tall and lean… But he’s an ass who has been lingering over you unsolicitedly for days. His personality is equivalent to needles splitting your brain open, but you can’t deny that in this moment, he looks good.
“How- how did you get in here?” Your only moments of silence, the only time you had to yourself was eventually corrupted by him, as always. You keep your face tight and swallow the feelings of confusion and anger.
Thanos shrugs, pursing his lips.
“I just came right in. No guards out there, plus they can’t keep me from you baby girl, you know that.”
“You’re fucking insane. Get out of the girls bathroom!”
”Relax, baby,” pushing himself off the wall, he takes his time to stalk towards you. Hand over his chest, he raises his brows in a sympathetic manner.
“You hurt me back there. Can’t you see how much I care for you? I never treated a lady like this before.”
You back up slowly, observing his every moment closely. His pupils were dilated and his lips curled into a grin.
“Just the the fuck out, we’re going to get in trouble if you’re caught in here.” You didn’t have a death wish right now, given the situation you’re in. You’d rather die messing up in a game than by the choice Thanos has made.
“Don’t test me,” he says sternly, pointing two fingers at you. His nostrils flare before his face relaxes.
”C’mon baby girl, tell me what you and my boy were talking about? You made me look like an ass out there.”
Gripping the cool porcelain sink, you take a breath. Maybe talking calmly to him will de-escalate the situation. It’s evident that the guards either know you both are in here and just don’t care, or they can’t even hear you.
“Thanos, I was just trying to cheer him up. You know how shy he is, Min-su isn’t cut out for these things. I mean, look at the situation we’re in, it’s traumatizing.” That’s probably the longest thing you’ve said to him, and you notice that he notices. Giving a smug look of satisfaction, he’s eager to respond.
“I don’t know what the fuck you are talking about.” His arms shoot open and he leans his chest forward. “This shit is fun. He’s under my wing, he’s got nothing to worry about. If you guys stop voting to leave we’d have a higher chance of getting all that money and leaving here together as a group, you know what I’m sayin’? And you guys just fuck around behind my back.”
You observe his characteristics when he talks to you. He’s expressive with his body, leaning his body side to side, talking with his hands. You’ve noticed that he’s more fidgety when he’s high.
“I can take care of you baby girl, like I have been doing. Keep all your attention on me and we won’t have a problem, yeah?” Your plan didn’t work. It’s calmed him down some, you can see it in his eyes, he’s looking at you like he… adores you. His eyes dart around your face in awe, his mouth slightly dropped open.
He’s just fucking high.
“I’m done, we’re going to bed.”
Moving to leave past him, Thanos grips your wrist painfully tight.
“The hell-“
He pushes your body back in front of him, bringing your wrist up to your face level. His other arm slithers over the small of your back, keeping you close. He’s warm, and surprisingly clean, despite his clothing. His grip is bruising, and you’re too sore to give back much fight. He might just end up killing you here, in an institutional bathroom.
Your eyes blow wide in surprise. The lighting here is so stark that you can see yourself in the reflection of his glossy eyes and enlarged pupils.
“You fucked with me, and here’s how this is going to go.” His all too excited smile was telling - that he was enjoying this. He’s been waiting for this moment.
”I keep you safe, I feed you… and you wanna flirt with other guys right in front of me?” His voice amplified the last of that sentence and you squeeze your eyes shut in response.
“What’s he got that I don’t have, huh?” His head cocks to the side before he presses his face close to your ear. You shutter at the yelling, but he doesn’t allow you to move an inch.
“You’re insane.” You whisper.
”The only thing that’s been driving me fuckin’ insane in here is you… you…” He pauses.
His face quickly reels back, face confused as ever before it drops again into that soft expression. His mood swings give you whiplash. You never know what’s next with him.
”Baby, I don’t even know your name.”
You shake your head, looking up at him perplexed. “Wha- I don’t,” you begin. The way he can change topics on a dime-
“My baby giiiirl,” he drawls, “tell me your name. I don’t even know my girls name.” He pouts.
You stare back at him in shock, refusing to move a muscle. But obviously this won’t do for him. Unsatisfied with your lack of reaction, or name giving, he twists your wrist tight again, causing you to open your mouth in a silent scream.
“Tell me baby, tell me your name.” He presses the arm around your back tightly as he guides you backwards. Your body collides into the cool tile of the bathroom wall, and now you’re really fucked.
You give in. You offer your name on a silver plate to him, the last bit of yourself you haven’t given away was now his.
“Ah,” he takes it in and repeats your name over and over again, tasting it on his tongue and savoring it like a candy sweet.
You swallow thickly, taking in each breath slowly from the double sided pressure. It’s all getting too much. The anger you felt earlier comes bubbling up again. His annoyance, his obnoxiousness, his presence - it’s all too overwhelming. His reactions to things, the way he bullies the other players, his corruption and carelessness…
”Fuck off.” You spit.
Thanos whistles then smiles wide. You fucked up. You fucked up in a way that unleashed the depths of his insanity. Bringing his face unbearably close to yours he gives an airy laugh.
”God, you’re always such a prissy bitch,” he sighs, savoring the icy daggered look you give him, “I fucking love that.”
”And you’re a fucking freak.”
“You know I’ve been waiting forever to be alone with you. Show you how I really feel.” He responds, not even acknowledging what you said to him.
Thanos goes again to press his leg between your thighs, he pushes his knee up to your core. Now you’re stuck between the wall, his body and straddling his leg with absolutely no space to move. Your face twinges in the slightest of pleasure, but you quickly collect yourself.
He definitely notices.
”You’re like a pretty painting, like in one of those fancy museums.” He slurs, keeping his eye on you. “Could look at you all day…” he spaces off.
“Thanos,” you wiggle in his grip, unable to breathe.
“Baby if you keep moving like that…” You already feel it. Not just feeling it, but you see it. Down between your bodies, his bulge protrudes upright, reaching to his waistband. Little wet spots of precum had already formed through the fabric of his jumpsuit god-knows when.
You want to whine, but you opt to squeeze your eyes shut and extend your neck up to face the ceiling. The white light illuminates through your eyelids, reminding you where you are.
Thanos takes this moment of your exposed neck to devour it. He’s sloppy, but coordinated. His wet tongue drags up to your jawline, leaving hot saliva that cools over. He groans at the taste. He’s not so gentle with his teeth when he drags them over your flesh, nibbling and scraping the tender spot under your chin.
Mindlessly, Thanos humps into you. His thick bulge grinds over your sweet spot in the perfect way… forcing a soft moan past your lips. With each hump, you feel his sweatpants push and push down, exposing the head of his cock.
Thanos loosens his hold on you, bringing one hand to the bottom of your sweater to lift it up, exposing your belly.
You gasp, immediately feeling the wetness of his precum stringing from his cock to your stomach with every thrust. Your eyes shot open, almost going blind from the lights above you. Tufts of his hair block your vision, and the scratching of his earring begins to irritate your cheek.
“I’m sorry babygirl, I was just mad earlier. I know you’d never flirt with Min-su…”
Hump, hump, hump.
“Ah - but if you ever think about giving your time to anyone else, you’re fucking dead.”
His voice rasps lowly in your ear and his precum starts to get messier by the second. Looking down, you see his cockhead red and angry. He’s thick and long. Veins dance along his shaft beautifully, and his sweet smell wafts to your nose.
“Needed you so bad all those days ago. Can’t believe I finally have you. You’ve been thinking of this too, yeah?”
He doesn’t give time to answer, not like you would have. Your emotions were a mix between anger, shock and… pleasure. It was a confusing mix, it was intense and steamy. Your core burned for him but your heart raged. In a way, you were flattered, but that feeling was none compared to the others.
In a swift motion, Thanos pulls away his knee, much to your internal dismay, to pull down your pants to your ankles. He gives himself just a second to free himself, only to the base of his balls. Standing upright at attention, you see fully how thick he is. He was a tall man, but you didn’t think his size would correlate…
From base to tip, he was the same circumference. The tip of his cock a dark blushed pink, almost red, while his balls were plump with clean cut hair. He must have trimmed the day he was kidnapped for the games.
“Come here baby girl,” he whispers before picking you up with ease and pressing you against the cold tile once again. He hooks his arms under your legs, pressing your legs open to a standing mating press. Your body contests with the stretch, but you’re too weak to adjust yourself.
Using the leverage the wall gave, he positions himself comfortably, cock lining up to your opening. His head prodded your entrance, and you feel all too hot.
Giving him an icy glare, all he gives back is an expression of sickly love.
“Don’t worry baby, you’ll realize one day how much you love me back. But for now, I gotta show everyone who you belong to.”
Opening your mouth to respond, Thanos was quick to press his bulbous cockhead past your opening. Your mouth slacks open in pleasure, while your core burns at the sensation. You would hate to admit it, but you were already pooling from the pressure of his knee earlier.
But of course he took notice.
“Oh fuck, I feel you. See, I knew you’ve been wanting this too.”
Thanos pushed and pushed through your walls, deeper and deeper.
”Sorry baby, I couldn’t wait. I’ll touch you next time, yeah?”
Your walls twitch at the intrusion, but your slick allows him to press in with ease. Finally hitting the end, you gasp for air. His cock must be pressing against your cervix, the pressure is too much, you internally beg for him to move. His balls softly push against the curve of your ass before he moves his hips back, letting his cock drag along your walls.
“Oh my god,” you barely whisper. It was like a dream. A fucked up, but also marvelous dream.
Before he does anything else, Thanos latches on to the base of your neck like a leach, sucking your skin roughly like he’s trying to take every last molecule of your blood.
Humping into you only by inches, slowly creating your pussy into the shape of him, he sucks and sucks deeply at your neck. Closing your eyes, tears of pleasure being to pool at the feeling.
“Ouch, Thanos, please,” You writhe in his hold, but he doesn’t let up until he wants to. Popping his lips off of you, his breath is ragged. Dark eyes meet yours, intense and hypnotizing.
“You’re fucking mine. I’ll kill anyone that even looks at you.”
And with that, he plunges his cock deep inside you again, all the way to press himself against your cervix.
He starts a brutal pace, fucking you deep and raw. The intensity within his eyes swim with a sickly adoration before he asks-
“Kiss me. Fuck, kiss me.”
You whine, pressing your lips into his. His kiss was rough, full of teeth and need. Your head bumps against the tile and without a second thought, Thanos wraps one of your legs around him to keep you in place before placing his hand behind your head to cradle your skull.
His tongue forces his way into yours, and he groans at your taste, your warmth. His breath is ragged and fast, fucking you roughly into oblivion. His pelvis rubs your clit with every motion and you grind back down every time he meets you deep.
Pulling away, he presses his sweaty forehead to yours before moving his other hand to the fat of your ass. His dull fingernails dig into your flesh with an iron grip, moving you to his rhythm.
“Not going to last long, fuck baby-“ He groans before sticking his tongue out to lick and suck at your bottom lip. It must be an oral fixation for him when he’s like this.
Your name falls from his mouth like a mantra, over and over again like before. He whispers sweet nothings of how much he loves you, how he’s so happy to have met you and -
“You better fucking vote to stay in the games next round.”
It was a threat. But the pleasure you felt within your core washed it all away within milliseconds. You feel the slick from your cunt coat his balls and your belly starts to tighten. The string of your euphoria was under so much pressure and it was ready to snap.
Thanos’s thrusts became sloppy and even harder than before. The sound of skin slapping was all you could hear, that and the moaning that fell effortlessly past his lips.
1 pump, 2 pump, 3… your body was a ragdoll in his grip, sending you over the edge in nonverbal pleasure. You silently cry out, letting your orgasm wash over you. Your walls contracted and shuddered around him, causing him to lose all bearings.
“Fucking love you…” was all he said before filling your pussy with hot ropes of cum. It was too much, and you felt the balloon pop deep inside you. Warm, sticky liquid coats your walls and begins to seep out with every tired thrust he gives.
You both stayed there for a few moments, before Thanos kisses your forehead, your cheeks, your nose and finally your lips. You’re too tired to respond. Him pulling out of you is equivalent to a wall opening a dam.
But he was oddly gentle, like those little moments he’d give you when he wasn’t high.
He must have come down.
Because he was gentle, setting you down to the floor, and gentle when he took your hand to hold you upright. Your legs threatened to give out any second, and with everything that had happened today, you were absolutely spent.
He didn’t clean you up though. Instead, the purple haired man caressed your face softly while his other hand shoved his cum back up inside your cunt.
“Tired?” He nodded to you, and all you could do was nod back. “Let’s go to bed, sweet girl. Tomorrow we got more money to earn.”
He took the time to pull up your pants and tuck himself back inside his before slinging an arm around you.
You realize the position you’re in. You’re at his mercy of the games, and beyond that.
And you just realized that you can’t say no either.
#yandere squid game#yandere thanos#yandere squid game smut#yandere thanos x reader#thanos x reader#thanos squid game#squid game smut#thanos x reader smut
415 notes
·
View notes
Text
I Want You
Sylus x gn!Reader
For all my folks who have been told they're not good enough to be wanted by anyone
Warnings: insecurity, kissing, alcohol, swearing, crying, embarrassment, not proofread
Word Count: 1,349
Main Masterlist
Love and Deepspace Masterlist
AO3
Tag List Form
“Have you ever been with anyone?”
It’s a simple question, perhaps born from your uncertainty, here and now. Standing on a moonlit balcony, dressed nicely, dinner on a candlelit table behind you, already savored. It was all Sylus’s planning, of course. When he needed to go to another country, he’d invited you to join him, as a little vacation from your own work to help him with his. When he then invited you to dinner, well, you didn’t think it would be quite this… romantic.
You both stand side by side at the balcony railing, you with half a flute of champagne and him with his own glass of wine. With your elbows on the rail, the flute hangs loosely over the freefall to the ground below. Beyond that, an entire city stretches out into the dim horizon.
You laugh humorlessly. “No. Who would want me?”
“I want you,” Sylus answers quickly.
You don’t look away from the view. Instead, you swirl the champagne around the sides of your glass. The sardonic, deprecating smile slips slowly from your face. You don’t believe him.
He sets his glass on the railing and turns fully toward you. With gentle fingers, he holds your chin and guides you to look up at him. His eyes are sharp. “I want you,” he repeats, firmer this time. His hand slides up to cup your face, thumb brushing over the apple of your cheek. “What will it take for you to believe me?”
You divert your gaze again as you try to pull his hand from your face. “Look, you don’t have to pity me, Sy. I know I’m not desirable-”
“Not desirable?” He scoffs. “Now who ever told you that?”
“Oh, I don’t know, maybe just everyone, my entire life? I know nobody wants me, you don’t have to bullshit me on this.”
“When have you ever known me to bullshit something?”
You don’t answer, and he doesn’t let you pull his hand away. Instead, he cradles your face in both hands, chasing your gaze. “I want you. I want… your laugh when you hear me singing, and your eyes when you’re trying to get a plushie from the claw machine.”
“This isn’t funny anymore.” You set your glass down to hold both of his wrists, trying to pull your burning face from his hold so you can leave.
“Then it’s a good thing I’m not joking, sweetheart,” he scolds lightly. “I want your smile when we go for joyrides, and your frown when the Twins are playing tricks on you.”
He leans in, tightening the space trapped between you. The night air is pushed out. It’s just him and you, and your shared breaths. He looks so intense, but not in a frightening way.
Your whole body is hot and uneasy. This still feels like an elaborate joke meant to insult you and make your faux-vacation a personal hell for you to relive every 3am for the rest of your life.
“I want your courage,” he whispers, deep voice slightly raspy at this volume. “I want your stubbornness.”
Your eyes are burning. You’re so embarrassed - you wish you could just hide under the table cloth until the end of the universe.
“I want to watch that triumphant little dance you do when you beat me in Kitty Cards. I want to hear your voice when you first wake up.”
A tear slips free. His face is blurred by the breaking dam. He brushes away each tear with his thumbs.
“I want… every little thing about you.”
You sniffle. You hold tighter to his wrists, torn between continuing to push him away and pulling him closer. He doesn’t shake you off, either way. “What about all the things you don’t want?” you ask, voice trembling and weak and utterly pathetic.
He brushes his nose against yours. Your breath stutters. “Like what?”
“My temper and my recklessness and how- how naive I can be sometimes…” You close your eyes. You can imagine any expression you want on him like this, and right now, you can just picture so perfectly the realization that would come across his face when he realizes you’re right. When he finally remembers just how insufferable and annoying you are. More tears fall as you squeeze them shut tighter. “My fat and my pickiness and-”
“All of it,” he cuts you off. “Anything you can possibly think of. Everything. I want it all.”
His tone leaves no room for argument…
But you’ve never listened to that anyway.
“Why? Why do you want… all of this? You- You can have so much more than me. So much more. Why do you want to settle for me?”
He scoffs. “I’m not settling for anything. You should know by now, kitten, I don’t go for anything less than the best.”
You sniffle again. You can’t imagine what you look like, all gross from crying. One hand finally releases your face, slipping out of your grasp. You hold onto the railing tightly in its place. Something soft and cool brushes away the tears. It’s silk; it feels just like the expensive bed sheets he has on every bed in his base.
“Will you open your eyes?” He cups your face again, the silk pressed in between his palm and your cheek. He brushes his nose more insistently against yours. “Please?”
Water sticks to your eyelashes as you force them open. Under your eyes feels raw and heavy, but your tears have dissipated enough that his face isn’t blurry. He smiles softly.
“There you are,” he whispers, fondly stroking your cheek again. “I want you. Nothing you think will ever change that. Nothing anybody else thinks will change it, either.”
“Really?”
One corner of his mouth quirks up slightly higher, becoming a smirk. “Do I need to prove it to you?”
Your face burns with more than just embarrassment now. You nod ever so slightly. This close, you can see the way his eyes darken as they glance down at your mouth. You can feel his pulse under your hand where you hold his wrist, picking up speed. You just barely hear the slight hitch in his breath as his lips brush over yours. Your eyes flutter shut, and he fully slots your lips together.
He kisses you slow and deep, holding your face firmly to keep you there, to keep you from drawing away from him. It’s insistent. He pulls away for a breath and dives back in. Each kiss is more determined and desperate than the last, until he’s breathing heavily against your mouth, tongue begging for entrance. Until your lips are swollen as you let him in. Until he finally, finally draws away, and watches with hooded eyes as the string of saliva connecting your mouths snaps.
You’re just as dazed as he is. You haven’t even opened your eyes yet, dumbly seeking out his lips again for one more kiss until your mind catches up with the quiet chuckle that fans across your face. Your chest rises and falls with passion, your cheeks are burning with desire, and you look up at him like he’s just pulled the moon down from the sky and handed it to you. He can’t resist nipping gently at your bruised lower lip. He’s glad he didn’t, when you let out a choked whine, begging for more.
“Do you believe me now, my beloved?” he rasps. The name sends shivers down your spine.
You release his wrist and reach up to hold his face. He’s all sharp cheekbones and broad shoulders, but when your fingers brush his hair, it’s impossibly soft. He’s impossibly soft right now, leaning into your touch and sighing as your fingers scrape along the fine hairs at the base of his skull. Gathering all of the courage that he admires so much, you whisper, “I think I need a bit more convincing.”
He laughs, already kissing you when he says, “It would be my pleasure.”
And, despite all the things you’ve been told all your life, you think you’re really starting to believe him.
---
Tag List:
@the-golden-jhope @huen1ngk41 @armycaratlover @sylusfluffymeow @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021 @angel-jupiter
#fanfic#fanfiction#sylus#sylus x reader#love and deepspace sylus#lads sylus#lnds sylus#love and deepspace#love and deepspace x reader#lads#lads x reader#lnds#lnds x reader#gn reader#x gn reader#gender neutral reader#x gender neutral reader
665 notes
·
View notes
Text
KIM KITSURAGI - “Is that. My kineema.”
COMPOSURE [Medium: Success] - Something in him is about to break, *big time*.
EMPATHY - And it’s not going to be pretty, do something!
- DRAMA [Formidable] - Everything is fine!
- “Sure is.”
DRAMA [Formidable: Failure] - Surely he’s aware that he’s not the *only* person in the world who owns a Kineema?
YOU - “Is it really *yours*? I mean, plenty of people have their own Kineemas, right? Like working men, government offices, uh, firefighters I guess, maybe even animal control people? Exactly! A million different people who could’ve driven it into the uh…”
DRAMA - Pause, my liege! Ixnay on the Ineemakay!
YOU - “It could even be our *mysterious* joyrider!”
KIM KITSURAGI - Your frenzied babbling falls deaf to the lieutenant's ears. Instead, he approaches the broken vehicle, sunken in the ice. He moves with a caution and gentleness you haven’t seen him display before.
INLAND EMPIRE - It must be cold and lonely down there, in the icy water. Maybe he could sense its sorrow, calling to him…
PERCEPTION (SIGHT) [Easy: Success] - His hands, which are always stiffly placed behind his back, are trembling.
ENDURANCE - This is the shuffle of a tired, tired man.
HALF LIGHT - He’s going to do something drastic because of you. Oh god, terrible! You’re a terrible liar! You can’t look at this, you just can’t!
VOLITION [Formidable: Success] - It's not *you* who drove his kineema into the sea. You have plenty of faults, but this one is decidedly not yours.
KIM KITSURAGI - He kneels down with his head bowed, casting his face in shadow. He plants a hand on the ice to stabilize himself, squinting to get a better view of the motor carriage. “Detective, it says ‘57’ on it.”
YOU - Sweat drips down your brow, and you feel a terrible headache coming. “Maybe our joyrider has an affinity for that number?”
LOGIC - He's not stupid, he knows that it's not that.
KIM KITSURAGI - “57.”
YOU - “What about 57?”, you brace yourself.
KIM KITSURAGI - “Precinct 57.”
YOU - You wince. “Kim, look-”
KIM KITSURAGI - “When I woke up in the Whirling-in-Rags with no memory of what happened during the days before, I've taken note that something of mine has gone missing.” He grits his teeth. "A very. Important. Something."
He runs his hands over his face, messing his already unkempt hair in the process. Regret creeps up on his features. “God. Fuck. They’re going to fire me over this, they’re not going to hear me out.”
EMPATHY - Desperation settles in the lieutenant's tone. Sadly, you find yourself in agreement, even if you don’t want it to be the truth.
YOU - “People are more valuable than machines, Kim.”
KIM KITSURAGI - “Not people like me.” He rasps.
YOU - “…”
KIM KITSURAGI - Before you can say anything more, you fail to notice the lieutenant carefully walking onto the edge of the ice. He looks over the frigid water, a dizzying blue that mirrors and distorts his exhausted face back to him.
YOU - “Kim?”
KIM KITSURAGI - Seconds pass as he looks to be contemplating something. Out of nowhere, he casually takes another step where the ice ends and the sea begins. It happens all too quick for the lieutenant to even voice a call for help— if he even wanted to — his body plunging into the cold water before your eyes.
YOU - “KIM!!!!”
uhhh bonus stuff? sorry i have swap au brainworms pfttt
(im not sure what skills kim has at the moment so rn he only has narration as his inner monologue ok whoops, i would like to keep harry as the guy who thinks in dialogue trees so im still figuring it out pfttt)
also, this was done bc i wanted to expand on these old scribbles of mine, just like an idea, i just think that he'd be having an even worse time wheezes
#disco elysium#kim kitsuragi#harry du bois#den's disco swap#disco elysium role swap#HI nobody look at the fact that. i am a novice writer at best DFGHJFGH#i had idea for some comic dialogue but it ended up being this instead whoops. i mean i could still draw this as a comic#anyways. i was like. trying to reverse engineer my idea of how kim can change into his bomber jacket instead of his uniform.#which. i dont think you can do with just simple convincing bc that thing is fused to him in spirit so there has to be like a good reason wh#oh it gets ruined! how? it gets like wet or smth! how'd that happened? he threw himself into the sea#also isnt it fitting that my memory problems is making me not remember the things that happen in disco elysium very well wheezes#so whoops if the characterization is a lil off lmaoooooo#but i have been trying to figure out how i want harry to be in this swap au#i dont think he's as well as he wants you to believe he is. and just the image of him pushing this 'youre allowed to be in denial about +#this' to kim about the kineema was so vivid in my head and idk if that tracks but hell. its in there now dfghdjfg#sunnysidedraws#sunnysidedisco
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Night Drive (18+)
Summary: You get a new car
AN: 18+ only y'all--we're gonna pretend that there are plenty of other self-driving cars that aren't t*sla...I hope this makes up for me not putting out another part of AYTO yet! All mistakes are mine.
Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Reader
Warnings: cursing; reader has a dick; dom//powerbottom!Natasha; sub//top!reader
----------------
You sink lower into your seat as you rev the engine of your new car with the widest grin Natasha can't see. Natasha looks hardly impressed from your view beyond the barely-legal tint of the windows.
You decide to roll down your window and plead your case.
"Hey baby."
Natasha rolls her eyes. You already screw yourself coming right out the gate with pleasantries, Natasha knows you're desperate to get on her good side when you do that.
"So...what do you think?" You vaguely gesture to the rest of the car and Natasha scoffs.
"I think you were a finance bro in your past life," she crosses her arms, and you relent, "probably," you sing as you round the car to lean against the hood. The gun metal gray still holds a shine in the moonlight. This wasn't an impulse purchase, you had been talking about buying a new car for a while now. You would go on little rants about the specs of certain cars whenever you saw them on the road or on TV. It's not like you were waiting when you had the money, being an avenger was a pretty-paying gig. You were just waiting for the right one, at the right time--a method you mastered by the time Natasha came around.
"Wanna go for a joyride?" You offer, already leaning off the hood and spinning the key in your hand.
Natasha wants to keep giving you a hard time, but you look so damn good in front of your sleek, expensive, new backdrop. Your muscles bulge under your fitted black shirt, and you have the cockiest smile on your face, like you knew you were winning this race.
"And if we get pulled over?"
"With SHIELD plates? I'm not worried about it," it almost comes out like it's scripted. You're not above rehearsing a speech for Natasha if it means getting your way. You're pulling out all the stops, but Natasha wants to remind you who's really behind the wheel. Her eyes rake over you slowly, intensely--the same way fresh lava travels over earth. You're standing at attention and you don't even know it.
"You gonna open the door for me or just stand there like you forgot your manners?" Natasha watches in amusement as you fumble for the door handle. She slides onto the cool leather while you make your way into the driver's seat yet again. You wait patiently for her to get comfortable and buckle in.
It's only when you rev the engine with a wink that Natasha muses this might have been a bad idea on her part. You punch the gas pedal and she's quickly acquainted with the back of the cherry red bucket seat.
----------------
Natasha decides that she doesn't like going fast unless the fate of the world depends on it. She also decides this is the one exception when she sees the freeway system of veins in your forearms as you grip the steering wheel. Natasha feels like she's flying when she watches your triceps flex while you turn the wheel or do something as mundane as turning on her seat heater.
Natasha slides her seatbelt off in a way that doesn't set off the sensor--she didn't want this moment to be ruined by a lecture on why it's important to buckle-up. You're too distracted by the beat of your night drive playlist to notice her crawling closer to you.
You feel her lips on the shell of your ear, "eyes on the road, got it?"
"Yes ma'am," you try to say cooly, you don't dare chance a look over at her. She hums with satisfaction and rewards you with a kiss on the skin behind your ear and a nibble on your lobe that tightens the coil in your belly.
Natasha sucks and licks at your neck while her deft fingers work to undo your belt and zipper. Her hand explores the border of your waistband before dipping under and finding what it was looking for. You let out a whisper of a gasp when Natasha admires your full length and girth. Your grip on the wheel tightens, Natasha chuckles when she hears the leather under your fingers groan.
Natasha begins to stroke you slowly, agonizingly so, but that doesn't keep your hips from bucking up into her hand.
"Tash," that only elicits a rumble against your neck. Natasha's other hand curls around your neck and gives a light squeeze that makes your vision blur for a second. Her stroking picks up speed, you have to work impossibly hard to keep your foot off the brakes.
"Natasha, please."
"I like the way you say please, baby," she mumbles with your skin between her teeth.
"What did I tell you?"
"Eyes on the road, ma'am," you say with a quickness that makes the corner of her lips curl up in satisfaction.
"So smart," she praises before you helplessly watch her head lower until you feel her lips greet your cock with a sloppy kiss. You throw your head back against your seat with a pathetic moan.
"So desperate," Natasha teases, and your mind feels like it's going a million miles an hour--multitasking is usually your strong suit, but it seems damn near impossible now.
Natasha's tongue travels the length of you, your hips feebly buck into her mouth when she finally grants you entrance. You slow your speed to safely take a hand off the wheel and hold her hair back. She thanks you with a gentle squeeze on your thigh and the prettiest sounds you could have only ever imagined.
Your playlist is already repeating itself by the time Natasha comes up for air. She can barely hear it over your panting anyway. You're rock hard and right where she wants you.
"The car can drive itself, you know," you breathe out. Natasha's brow quirks with curiosity.
"Show me," it's a gentle command, but your fingers rush to press the right sequence of buttons. You ease the seat back with haste, and Natasha just lets you sit there for a few beats to take you in and also leave you in suspense.
Your fingers dumbly flex against your legs while you wait for further instruction from Natasha. She doesn't even try to hide her smirk when your eyes begin to dart between the road and her.
"You're not gonna let us crash right, dove?" Natasha's finger traces a feather-light trail down your arm. It's a genuine question, even though she knows you probably did some sizable research on the safety features of the car before you even entertained buying it.
"No ma'am, you're precious cargo," you give an easy smile and that's Natasha's cue to move and straddle your lap. You help her with your hands on her hips, your hands quickly retreating to your sides when she's situated over you.
Natasha swears your eyes are sparkling as you watch her slide her panties to the side with one hand and take your length in the other.
"Eyes on me, baby, just for a second," she coos and you obey. Natasha can't help but admire the striations of your muscles working overtime to restrain yourself. You've always been intoxicatingly obedient, even when it's downright painful. Your eyes are locked on Natasha's, you have to bite your lip to stifle a moan when she finally eases down onto your cock. She's already working her hips in a way that has your entire body buzzing. You can count on one hand how many cars have passed you by this whole time, just like you expected.
Your fingers dig into the leather of your seat, your eyes periodically glancing at the road to make sure it hasn't veered off course for whatever reason. Natasha steals a few sloppy kisses when she leans into you to get a better angle and bounce on your cock at a speed that should be illegal.
"Tash, I'm gonna-," you choke out between labored breaths.
"What was that baby?" she leans back and oh god, you wish you had the kind of self-control your car has right now. You feel like you're going to pass out watching Natasha ride your cock, you're too blissed out to realize that she's spelling out 'm-i-n-e-' with her hips.
"I'm gonna come so fast."
"I know baby."
That seals your fate. Your arm reaches back to brace yourself against the seat. With a long and drawn-out "fuck," Natasha feels you push deeper into her, filling her up with every last drop of you. You both fall into a sweaty, moaning heap against the seat. Your body trembling with aftershocks as Natasha scratches at the skin on the back of your neck. You only get to drink this feeling in for a few seconds until you see red and blue flashing lights in your rearview mirror.
"Shit," you sit up and Natasha freezes when she sees what you see. You feverishly check your speedometer, you're not speeding. You start rifling through your brain to see if you forgot to do something, insurance? Plates? Registration?
Your questions are answered when you watch the cop car speed off into the night. Natasha lets out a heavy sigh of relief that makes your dick twitch, reminding you both that you're still inside of her.
"Told you," you try not to sound so exasperated. Natasha just rolls her eyes before kissing your temple. Night drives might just become a regular thing now.
#not a word#not one peep#works#natasha romanoff imagine#natasha romanoff#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha x reader#natasha x you#natasha romanoff smut#what do i say?#use protection#dont actually have sex while operating a moving vehicle?#if you know what this is inspired by no u don't
1K notes
·
View notes