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#no idea what is going on with her and what is she planning and against who or what. but i support her rights and wrongs
mywritersmind · 21 hours
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SAVIOR - LN4
pt.2
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summary : Y/n’s favorite place has quickly become her and Lando’s shared hallway. They grow closer and finally make it to the fresh air.
OG SUMMARY (When y/n’s absent neighbor shows up, causing her great annoyance with smoke and repetitive beeping, she marches over to tell the man off but is met with a handsome face and strong hands that are in distress.)
listen up : no warnings!! y/n is clueless abt f1. lando is silly. i’m craving strawberries now.
word count : 1878
⋆。‧˚⋆
I haul my five grocery bags into the elevator, struggling to keep them all off the ground. I sigh when I finally still in the metal box, i’ve carried these at least two blocks and one had broken on the way.
The doors are about to close but a hand slides in between them, making them automatically open for him.
Hello my hot mysterious neighbor.
He looks relieved he made it, “Y/n!” He says cheerfully, like we’ve known each other for ages. It’s been a couple weeks since I slammed on his door and stomped through his kitchen.
The other side of the hallway had been quiet until last night when I heard keys rattling and the door opening. I can’t help but wonder what he does that keeps him from home so often.
“Lando, Hi!” I smile back as he slides beside me and presses our floor.
“You need help?” He eyes the bags as I bite my lip, not wanting to bother him. I don’t have the time to respond because he takes three bags out of my hands like it’s nothing.
“Thank you.” I sigh, “I’ve been struggling for like two blocks.” He laughs a bit with me as the numbers get higher and higher.
“I’m happy to help.” We finally reach our floor, Lando watches me go first and walk to my door, unlocking it and walking in.
Lando follows hesitantly, like he doesn’t know if he’s allowed.
“Thank you again! I put myself in a bit of a bind when I decided that my friends need fifteen types of salami and cheese.” I place the bags on the counter, Lando following.
I push back my hair and suddenly wish I had cleaned up a bit more. My friends are coming over tonight and I had decided to push back my cleaning. Looking around at the clothes and old popcorn bowls scattered around makes me want to slap myself.
“Really, I like to lend a hand! I never get to be neighborly.” He shrugs.
“What do you do for work? If you don’t mind me asking?” I start placing the cold items in the freezer.
He leans against the counter, his arms holding him up and looking alarmingly fit, “Uh… You ever follow Formula 1?”
I nod, “Kinda? I used to love it!” My mom and I would watch every sunday but I stopped in college so I don’t know any of the current grid, “So you work in the sport! That’s cool, pretty hands on?” I ask as he laughs a bit, looking awkward.
“Yeah, I work with the cars.” He looks around my place a bit, “So, why does one need this much food? I’m judging or anything it’s just… You don’t seem like the type to need a jumbo sized pretzel bag.”
I smile and snatch the bag from him, “I could definitely eat all of this by the way! But I'm having a bit of a party tonight. If anything’s too loud just let me know! It’s just old friends from college- actually.” I look up at him, a boost of confidence appearing in me, “You could join us. If you’re not busy.”
It suddenly sounds like a ridiculously stupid idea. I turn back to the fridge, placing a bottle of lemonade in it and cringing.
“I would love to.” I let out a sigh of relief, “But I've got plans…” I frown and turn back to him, finally putting away the last of my groceries.
“Aw.”
“It’s really nice of you to invite me.” I smile, a bit sad and confused why I'm disappointed. I mean I barely know the man. “What do you do for work?”
I lean against the counter so I'm across from him, “I’m a writer. Journalism right now but I really want to take a more bookish route…”
He genuinely looks so intrigued, more interested than anyone else who I've told I write articles about neighborhood drama.
He checks his watch, which I'm now realizing is incredibly expensive, and swears, “I gotta go. Have fun with your party tonight.”
⋆。‧˚⋆
I definitely do have fun. My friends and I eat, drink, and play board games just like we’re back in dorms. I’m seeing my last and closest friend off when Lando comes up the hallway, As my friend's eyes go wide when she sees him, I shake my head.
“Goodbye!” I push her out of my apartment, “Love you!”
“Yeah love you too! Text me!” She walks past Lando, nodding at him before she turns behind his back and mouths ‘he’s hot’.
I roll my eyes at her, a smile still on my face as Lando looks at me. He’s in a full suit, holding his blazer in his hand.
“Fun time then?” God he’s hot!
“Absolutely!” I giggle, a bit tipsy, “How about you then?” I eye his suit.
“As good as I could make it.”
I slap my hand over my mouth, “God you aren’t coming from a funeral then, are you?”
He laughs at this, “No! No. A work banquet thing.”
I giggle a bit as he turns to his door, “Hey!” I say without thinking, “Would you want to come in? I have wine.”
He’s sitting on my couch thirty minutes later, a glass deep and talking about where he’s traveled too.
“That’s my dream!” I say, my feet tucked under myself as I tilt my head on the couch cushions, “Traveling. I mean- You’ve been everywhere!”
He shrugs, sipping his wine, his tie undone and shoes off, “It’s amazing but I'm not there for long so I don’t usually get to sightsee much. Honestly the most interesting thing that’s happened to me recently is this pretty girl came to save my baking disaster.”
I hum to his words, blushing a bit, “Sounds like a hero if i’ve ever heard one.” We both go silent, taking pieces of my leftover charcuterie board. “Should I start watching F1?”
“No!” He says it so quick that i’m taken aback.
“No?”
He laughs a bit, shaking it off, “It’s boring. I can’t have someone else in my life talk about it.”
I spin my wine around in the glass, “So I'm someone in your life now?”
He smirks, “We’re friends, aren’t we?”
I pretend to contemplate this, “I’ve never had a friend who hasn’t gone to the strawberry market with me.”
He makes an odd face, “So we must go then.”
I sigh, “If you want to be my friend…”
The corner of his mouth pulls, “Tomorrow at 9?”
⋆。‧˚⋆
He’s at my door at 9:12. Thank god he’s late because I hop over to the door, pulling on my shoe and pulling down my jean skirt.
I open the door and stand up straight, smiling breathlessly. He, of course, looks perfect in jeans and an olive green shirt, “Morning.”
“Ready to taste the best strawberries you’ve ever had?” I grab my bag and keys.
“So ready.”
We make it to the market just on time. It’s my favorite neighborhood gem. Every Sunday people gather with strawberries. There are big and small, some covered in chocolate and some in honey.
I buy a box of chocolate ones, well Lando does. He insists that he still owes me. Handing one to Lando with an extra fork, he bites into it, his eyes roll, “Fucking hell.” I nod, excited that he likes them as much as I do.
“My favorite treat! Something you can’t burn your house down with.” I eye him and he eyes me right back. Being with Lando is like a breath of fresh air. I’ve never been so confident in my social skills.
He laughs with a shop owner as he buys his pack of plain strawberries. He's so nice and just listens politely as the woman goes on and on about her childhood on a strawberry farm.
He gives her a bigger bill than necessary and as she insists it’s too much, he just shakes his head and continues walking.
We settle at a park bench nearby, tasting all the pieces we’ve bought, “This is genuinely phenomenal.” He says while eating another, “How’d you find this place?”
“Had to write about something local and had total writers block… I was walking around one day and just sort of stumbled upon it.”
He smiles, I really like this smile. “You seem like the type to just stumble upon a strawberry market.”
I laugh, covering my mouth, “What does that even mean?”
“You’re just so…” His hands make these weird gestures, his fingers moving around as he laughs and gives up, “It just fits.”
I smile, meeting his eyes. They're so nice, a mix of blue and green. His gaze washes over me and I feel the need to smile even more.
“You’ve got nice eyes.” My stomach twists as he says it so calmly, “Real pretty.” I feel a blush on my cheeks and I turn away from him, looking at the park near us and being startled by the child looking up at us.
Lando follows my gaze, mumbling softly, “Shit.”
“Hi.” The kid says awestruck, I look to Lando who’s smiling and sitting up straighter. “Um- Are you Lando Norris?”
Lando scratches the back of his neck, “Yeah I am! What's your name?”
“W-William!” He says, swallowing and pulling a pen from behind his back, “Could you sign this?” I glance to what looks like his mother, she’s watching him with a smile.
Lando simply nods and takes the cap from his head, its bright orange. He signs his name and messes up the kid's hair, “Thanks a lot! My friends’ll never believe it!” The boy squeals and runs back to his mom who waves slightly and takes the boy's hand.
I raise a brow at Lando, still confused, “I’m sorry…” He looks embarrassed but I don’t even know what for.
“I’m going to assume you didn’t tell me the whole truth in what your job is?”
His cheeks get a bit red, “I do work with the cars… Just really close. Like I’m in them. One specifically.”
I nod, “Yours?”
“Mine.” He crosses his arms, his lips in a thin line, “I drive for McLaren.” I breathe out.
“Oh.” I can’t help but think I have a type because I grew up with Jenson Button posters on my wall.
He runs a hand through his curls, “I don’t usually get recognized around here- Thought we would be okay.”
“We are okay!” I reassure him, realizing he’s actually embarrassed, “That was sweet.”
He looks up hopefully, “You think? I’m sorry for lying- I just really liked that you didn’t know who I am or what I do.”
“Well, I sort of still don't. I know your full name now, that’s about it.” He smiles at this, I bite into another strawberry.
“Do you want to go out with me?”
He is yet to say something I'm not shocked at.
“Yeah.” I nod, smiling at him as he grins, “I’d really like that. Don’t you have to race soon though…? Singapore, isn’t it?”
The smirk that pulls at his lips is just plain mischievous, “I never said the date would be here.”
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hencheri · 3 days
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18+. mdni.
pairing: mean!xiaojun x fem!reader x mean!hendery
warnings: noncon, mention of physical violence, xiaojun is straight up cruel & hendery is kinda a himbo lol.
wc: 2k
this is part 2 of this drabble. thanks yaz for the idea <3 it's a little different from what you asked.
xiaojun takes a sip of his drink, the alcohol burning his throat as he swallows it down. he looks around, squinting his eyes at the crowd, searching for a face that would spark something in him. something new and exciting.
but no one interests him enough.
he sighs when his gaze falls on hendery, enjoying himself with some random girls on the dance floor. xiaojun can hear his laugh from here, his hand slapping one girl’s ass, whispering in the ear of the other, making both giggle. 
it doesn’t take much to entertain hendery, just some pretty girls and he’s over the moon. with how easy going he is, his popularity is not surprising. his boyish charm always has its effect on women. 
xiaojun wishes he was as easily entertained as his best friend, but he needs more than just some sexy attire and a girl giggling at everything he says. he sees the inviting glances thrown his way, and maybe he would give in if that’s what he was searching for, but for some reasons, tonight he wants something different, not just a hook-up. 
and that something he will find in someone he already knows very well. 
he spots a feminine silhouette at the bar, body wrapped in a short white dress that seems to be made of satin. she talks to a man, presumably boyfriend as he lays a protective hand on her hip, soon leaving her alone. 
xiaojun can only see her back until she turns around with a glass in hand. the same very eyes he made tears flew from are looking straight back at him. 
his entire mood shifts and that spark he needed so badly finally lights up in him. it’s you. 
he’s about to stand up and leave his seat when he notices your eyes going elsewhere, staring at the crowd of people stacked on the dance floor. xiaojun follows your gaze only to realize hendery is no longer dancing, instead walking in your direction. 
you decide to go in the opposite way, but you stop dead in your tracks as xiaojun comes up to you as well. you’re trapped. 
you back away until you hit the edge of the bar behind you, eyes going in between the two men, having no clue on what to do or how to escape. but it’s simple; you can’t escape. and hendery would like to believe this is fate, this is just how life’s decided to be. 
he would be right about one thing; this is how it is and you can’t do anything about it, but fate… no, fate isn’t so cruel. it isn’t so unfair. 
hendery is the first to arrive, flashing you a sweet smile that would have melted your heart if you didn’t know how mean he truly is behind closed doors. 
“what a surprise,” he flirts, casually leaning his body against the bar at the same time xiaojun comes to your level. 
they both exchange a look, their plans totally changed now that you’re here. 
last time, they left you in their hotel room as it was the last night they were staying in. xiaojun knew they would have to leave eventually, they couldn’t keep you. it was a little delusional to even consider it, but hendery has the habit to get easily attached to people. he sure gets over them fast as well, even though your case has been quite special.
your big scared eyes are looking back at him like he remembers, meaning ‘don’t do this to me’. it’s something hendery can’t promise, though. that wouldn’t make any sense. 
your head turns to xiaojun then to hendery again. “i came with my boyfriend. leave me alone or-”
you’re cut off by xiaojun who clasps a hand around your face, harshly pulling it toward him. he seems to always want to control your movements, to control what you see and what you say — he just wants to control everything. 
“or what? don’t threaten us now, princess,” he says sternly, “you know better than this.”
his eyes hold all the hate in the world. he doesn’t give a single fuck about your boyfriend, in fact, he has a stronger desire to take you now that a boyfriend is involved. it means having something that isn’t technically his, but will be once he has his hands on you, as if curving his initials into your skin. ruin you for any other man.
“where’s the little boyfriend anyway? i don’t see him,” hendery mocks, laughing straight in your face. how convinient for them that he decided to leave right when they noticed you. it’s meant to be, hendery’s sure of it. 
you open your mouth to answer, but nothing comes out. maybe fate is that cruel after all. 
your phone is buzzing incessantly, messages and calls from your boyfriend. you wish for once he wouldn’t worry so much, that he’d at least drop it off for tonight. 
this situation is too reminiscent of the last time they had you both helpless and submissive for their sick pleasure. your dad calling, and now your boyfriend, all while xiaojun is taking you from behind. 
your front is pressed down on the bed as your legs are dangling off of it, hands holding onto the bed covers. 
“can you turn that shit off? that boyfriend’s gonna turn me crazy,” xiaojun groans and rolls his eyes, talking to hendery. 
he picks up your phone from the floor, seeing almost 20 notifications all from the same number. “my guy’s worrying to death,” hendery snickers, scrolling through the unread messages. “we should reassure him and tell him his precious girlfriend is well taken care of.”
you can’t believe they want to mess with your loved ones again. you still remember when xiaojun pressed your phone to your ear, basically forcing you to talk to your father while his friend was on top of you. you won’t forget the sickening glint he had in his eyes, like he’s never been more entertained in his life before. 
“stop it,” you say with a weak voice, tear stained cheek laying on the mattress. you look at hendery, but he doesn’t drop your phone, instead typing something on your keyboard, immediately assuming he’s sending a text to your boyfriend. “don’t! please! why are you doing this?” you cry out loudly.
but again, they choose to ignore you. the smile on hendery’s face makes you sick in your stomach, how can someone so beautiful be so heartless? 
“give it to me,” xiaojun asks, reaching his hand out. hendery hands it to him and he places the screen just in front of your eyes. “how caring of him,” he coos.
you can see all the texts he sent you, asking where you are, why did you leave, if you’re with someone else, if he did something wrong, and then calling you a bunch of times. 
but before you can see what hendery said to him, xiaojun opens your camera and starts to record a video. 
he holds your hip with one hand, thrusting back and forth into your pussy. he films your intercourse, capturing how the translucent pearls falling from your eyes roll gracefully over your rounded cheeks to disappear into the material of the bedsheets. how pretty. 
the back of your thighs burn at how violently he pounds into you, his skin smacking against yours, the sounds echoing in the room. 
xiaojun leans over you, his naked chest sticking to your back, and a surprised gasp escapes your lips when he digs his teeth into your shoulder, biting you. he films it, of course, wanting the video to be as graphic as possible — so explicit that when your boyfriend will watch it, he’ll burst in anger, his little ego crushed by seeing his girlfriend in the hands of another man.
his hips roll against your ass, hard cock entering your pussy and stretching your walls to the size of his girth. the amount of arousal that drips along your inner thighs embarasses you, cursing your body for reacting to his touch — to their touch. 
he positions his lips right beside your ear, “you like this, don’t you?” he growls, sliding his cock into your wet cunt in a way that has the knot in your stomach tightening. “poor little girl getting her slutty hole stuffed full of cock… how unlucky,” xiaojun whispers to you, his mean words making you sob harder. he says all of this while looking straight at the camera, knowing who’s going to be the spectator of it. 
he then straightens his back, resuming his brutal and harsh pace. he ends the video, passing your phone back to hendery who happily sends it to your boyfriend. 
more long minutes pass where xiaojun moves into you back and forth, slapping your ass so hard that you still feel the trace of his hand on you. hendery has a painful hold of your hair, your head tilted to the side as he makes you suck his dick. he can’t stop talking to you, calling you a bunch of names, praising your skills that you absolutely hate using as of right now. 
you wish his words would mean nothing to you, but they will remain in your mind for a long time, replaying in your head every time a man that isn’t him will touch you. you will not recover from this, and the fact that you might not find pleasure with anyone else scares you the most. this isn’t how you should feel. 
your phone is long forgotten, thrown away on the floor, nobody paying attention to it until the battery finally dies down and you don’t hear any more from your boyfriend. you’re relieved, in a way, that his attempts to contact you are just useless now. 
the night feels endless, and rightfully so, because they use you in so many ways that you can’t count anymore. your energy is spent, but they don’t care — not in the slightest. you’re theirs now. 
the sun going through the blinds wakes you up, blinking your eyes open. your eyelids stick together a little bit and you feel the puffiness of your face, the results of you crying all night. 
the first thing you see is hendery’s sleeping face, buried in your chest. you can feel his breath fanning across your skin, quiet and regular. his deep brown hair are in a mess, strands covering his forehead and eyes. 
his big hands are laid on your waist, blood creeping up to your face when you realize that you’re naked. you forgot for a second the reason why you were brought here and with who. 
you squirm just a little, but you can’t really escape hendery’s embrace, he holds you too tightly. 
you look up when you hear the sliding door opening and then closing, seeing xiaojun getting back inside, a cigarette in hand. he takes one last drag out of it until he crushes the end into the ashtray placed on the dresser beside him. 
he’s dressed in a large black hoodie and grey sweetpants. when he notices your gaze on him, he smiles at you, surely the first time you’ve ever seen him do it. 
“do you wanna take a shower?” he asks and honestly, it surprises you.
you remember waking up in an empty hotel room, only your bag and clothes laying on the floor, no trace of the men who had taken you away. but now, they’re here, one of them cuddling you in his sleep and the other offering you to wash yourself. 
what changed? why did they stay?
you faintly nod your head. “great, i’m gonna go start it then.” and xiaojun leaves for the bathroom. 
you look around the room and catch the sight of your phone charging on the nightstand nearest to you, extending your arm to grab it without startling hendery’s slumber. you unplug it, bringing it to your face.
you rapidly unlock it and immediately go to your messaging app. 
a big knot forms in your throat and your eyes begin to water when you read the texts from your boyfriend, breaking up with you just after the video was sent.
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starkeysprincess · 2 days
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I just got a gr8 idea with Dom!Drew.
Reader is on a weeklong punishment of no cumming and going feral, she gets an idea to trick him into giving her what she wants by ordering a new toy. Once he’s less angry a few days in, she brings the package in like “wanna see what I got, daddy?” Drew acts all interested and when she asks if he can help test it out, he’s like “sure” and starts getting her all worked up but he knows better. And so does she than to think she can pull one over on him. He finally edges just enough to keep her wanting more but not enough to cum within a second; like halfway, but then stops at the last second like “you really thought I wouldn’t remember? Nice try. That’s another week. Get over my knee.”
you thought you could handle a weeklong punishment of no cumming but you’re such a needy little thing when it came to your boyfriend and it was merely two days in when you realized how much it affected you.
an idea popped into your head as you thought about what would make him break and forget about the punishment, resulting in you buying a new toy.
luckily, when your package arrived, his anger subsided, making it easier for you to go through with your plan.
“wanna see what i got, daddy?” your voice pulled him away from the tv in the living room and he eyed the package in your hands, tipping the neck of the beer bottle to his lips, “sure princess, show me what you got”.
you plopped onto the sofa next to him, opening the package to reveal a vibrator, and noticed his attention shifting to the toy resting in your palm, “there a reason why you bought that?” he grumbled.
“bought it for when i‘m lonely while you’re away filming” you mumbled, “yeah? is that so?” drew chuckled, earning a small hum from you as you toyed with it in your hand, “wanna help me test it out?”.
the smug look on his face as he pushed you to lay back should’ve made you aware he wasn’t going to give in as easily as you thought he would.
your legs were spread open, one resting on the sofa back while the other dangled off the cushions. the buzzing noise paired with your small moans filled the air as drew’s thick digits were stuffed deep in your cunt, the vibrator nestled against your clit.
the faster he pumped his fingers in and out of your tight hole, the higher he’d turn the setting on the vibrator.
“look at you…look so pretty when your little clit is being played with. is this what you wanted, baby? wanted daddy to play with your pretty little pussy?”.
the persistent abuse on your clit along with his fingers working and stretching your cunt open had you writhing under him, your thighs threatening to close as the knot in your lower stomach tightened.
“f-fuck daddy…’m close—“ you whimpered, rolling your hips against his fingers and the vibrator. you grasp at the cushions, nails digging into the material as your eyes roll back.
drew’s fingers slipped out of your cunt, turning the toy off within seconds and you couldn’t help but whine when your orgasm was ripped away from you.
“you really thought i wouldn’t remember and give in?” drew tsked, “nice try, princess but that’s gonna be another week”.
he settled back onto the sofa, “get over here and get over my knee, that little brain should know better than to think you could pull one over me”.
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demodraws0606 · 3 days
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An character analysis POV as to how Hu could be the culprit (and a little bit of Nico stuff as well)
tw/ mentions of suicide
So I've seen certain Eden!Culprit truthers just not really believing that Hu could be the culprit because of her behavior during the class trial. However her committing murder against Arei and Ace makes a lot more sense than Eden does by a longshot (especially with Eden having no accomplices atp).
But I also understand why people are confused by Hu's behavior if she could possibly be the culprit. There's a lot of things that don't seem to make sense on the surface that I also accepted however digging further, you can find a version of Hu that honestly fits really well as the culprit of this chapter.
I will also throw in analysis of Nico's behavior because a lot of their behavior during this class trial is strange if Hu really is the culprit but again I think I can explain why this happened.
I also want to preface this by saying that I do think Hu is going to be a heavily flawed character but I don't think she's malicious in any way shape or form. If I find any Hu hate after she's revealed to be the culprit, I will actually fight your ass and that's a promise.
Her outburst against David :
I honestly was also in the camp of not really understanding Hu being the culprit, doesn't this go against her outburst against David ?
Well, here's the thing, I think her outburst was 100 pourcent genuine, I just think Hu is both being a hypocrite in a way but mostly she's hiding her true feelings behind her wording.
Let's take what she says in her outburst :
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There's a funny thing about her wording, especially at the beginning :
"You have no right to decide wether I, whether any of us..."
I think what Hu is trying to say is being hidden by her saying "we" and "us". In my opinion, she's probably mad at David for wanting to toy with her life, not even to escape himself but simply to commit mass suicide. Which we know Hu has a very complicated history with suicide due to her secret.
I do think her anger is both a mix of projecting onto David her present (and past self) and also her genuine desire to want to continue living.
She would be mad, she's trying so hard to live and here is David who both planned to let her die not even to survive himself but simply because he gave up. Interesting to note how she interprets David's desire to stop the killing game as "Because this killing game requires us to live, you think you should just reject that notion and kill us all". She doesn't mention him wanting to end the killing game, she mentions David rejecting the notion of living itself.
If Hu was a past suicidal person who now has committed herself to continue living, of course she would be insulted by David's action, it spits in her face and reminds her of a past self that simply rejected the idea of living.
A desire to live that's shown through this outburst and also in her secret quote.
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Again switching the pronouns Hu is using here with "I" really gives a new perspective that I think makes a lot of sense with her being the culprit.
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"It is not and never will be your desicion as to what happens with MY life"
Because Hu wants to live now, she's no longer her past self, she won't try and throw her life away anymore.
The murder of Arei and attempted murder of Ace :
I want to discuss both the victims and method of murder here because I think it works very well with Hu. It's not really a character analysis thing as much but I didn't want to make a seperate post for it.
Hu clearly does/did not have high opinions of either Ace or Arei, like at all. They were both people that Hu reprimended heavily.
Especially with the secret motive happening, it's very possible that Hu's possible choice of culprit was done with the notion of "who deserves to be killed". Her first pick being Ace makes a lot of sense
I'm making her sound villainous when I say this but I do think it was her mindset at the time, Ace's horrible behavior towards Nico possibly being what led to her to feel allowed to take his life. However when Ace survived, she decided she was simply to deep into it and decided to go with the second best choice in her mind, Arei.
I want to also point out the method of murder...hanging
Clearly the culprit had a lot of knowledge about hanging, with it being their main method of murder. Which would make sense with Hu's past, using her past attempts as knowledge for her to take someone else's life which I find very ironic and in a way morbidly narratively compelling.
What was the motive ? :
I think Hu simply just wanted to live, it had nothing to do with the motives (and I honestly think the motives will actually not ever be involved in the murders bc it seems like they're setting it up to be a recurring trend).
I think Hu was thinking about murdering to get out ever since she was put in this killing game. However the only reason why she has never done so is because she was way too attached to her classmates.
From her secret quote, to her outburst against David, to her secret motive. All of it hints at this strong desire to want to live.
However she couldn't bear to kill anyone in this cast until chapter 2 happened.
Ace and Arei both are probably the least likable characters in chapter 2's daily life, I don't mean that in the fandom sense but I mean that in the eyes of the cast itself. Especially Ace who truly ends up falling to horrible harmful patterns out of self preservation.
We know how toxic the cast became in chapter 2 and I think that's what led to Hu feeling more comfortable killing someone. She no longer felt as guilty when she saw Ace (and Arei but mostly Ace) acting this way. This allowed her to commit murder. When it failed, she simply ended up chosing the second person on her list that she saw as nothing more than a horrible bully.
After all who would miss Ace and Arei, they're both horrible horrible people right ? Who would cry for someone who isn't a good person.
It was a murder both driven by Hu's strong desire of survival and also her view of her fellow classmates.
Nico's behavior :
Before I get more into Hu's mindset, I want to take a little detour to why is Nico being so difficult ?
I know I've made theories about Nico being an accomplice, but looking back I don't think they actually knew Hu did it. Even if they're not telling the truth about Ace's attempted murder and Hu's false allibi.
But then why ? Why would Nico ever do this, don't they know they're potentially putting everyone's lives at risk
Well it wouldn't be the first time a character in DRDT's cast is difficult to the point of risking people's lives (i'm fucking look at you WHIT.). However I think there are both actually decent reasons as to why Nico wouldn't tell the truth alongside his issues with being non-confrontational.
First, I don't think Nico ever expected the murder of Ace to be important to the case. I think they lied because everyone else made it extremely obvious what their thoughts truly were and Nico probably thought that trying to argue against them simply would just make them look more guilty or not do anything at all.
Again I would like to pull Nico's secret quote for evidence here. Because again I think it just fits with everything here.
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For the alibi thing, I think Nico genuinely didn't contest it because they probably believe Hu only did that to protect them from getting blamed. Again anything that would make Nico not get yelled at or suspected probably is something they would hold onto. They still have no reason to think Hu really did it, so again with their issues with being non-confrontational I think it would make sense for them not to contest it.
I think Nico's arc is heavily tied with Hu, and vice verca. There's an empahsis on how Nico is struggling to make their true feelings truly known because everyone talks about them and the one person who thinks they are there to protect them actually are just as bad if not worse in ignoring them.
Nico wasn't ready to come out, they were instantly labelled an attempted murderer and the one person who is here to defend them is someone who constantly interrupts them. The entirety of chapter 2 has just been them being objectified and not really giving them a voice.
Which I think comes back to a part of Hu that I think is related to the murder.
Hu's relationship with Nico and Eden :
Isn't that interesting how Hu has established relationships with both Nico and Eden, meanwhile Ace and Arei both have bullied Eden/Nico.
I don't think this is a coincidence and I think it matches Hu's misguided attempts at protecting people.
Hu wants to be useful, she desperately wants to be the strong protector of the group. However there are very clear signs here intentions aren't very glamorous.
In a fucked up way, it's very possible that she sees the murder of Ace and Arei as her helping Eden and Nico. Two people she clearly wants to protect (at least for Nico it's obvious).
However Hu's actions clearly did not help them, in fact, what she did ended up backfiring on the both of them.
Nico ends up being framed as a murderer
Eden lost a potential friend
Not only that but she had to have manipulated both Nico and Eden, to accomplish her murder. It's a flimsey self excuse for Hu to keep up her belief that she's a protector.
Obviously I don't think this was her main motivation, I've talked about it before but it's yet again something that would make it more easy for Hu to swallow the idea of being a murderer.
Is Hu evil ? :
No ! What the fuck did you think this post was for !
See I don't think Hu being the culprit suddenly makes her this horrible manipulative person. Despite the dread I feel with the likelyhood of Hu getting dragged to the ground if she's the culprit, I don't think she's remotely close to characters like...Celeste for exemple.
She's a person who was desperate to live who let herself murder by making up excuses, that she was doing this for the greater good somehow that it wasn't just a selfish desire of survival.
It makes sense for a chapter all about morality right ? Justifying a horrible action by justifying that well...these people she murdered weren't really good people were they ? Plus she ended up killing Eden and Nico's bullies right ? And I mean the killing game will only really end when two people are still alive right ? So maybe she's not a bad person. Maybe she deserves to live.
But people don't to be deserve murdered (99 pourcent of the time, i'm talking about DRDT's moral here) , not even horrible people. You don't know these people, if they could change, and you don't know what consequences you bring upon others by enacting justice like this.
And in a chapter about morality wouldn't it be interesting to tackle the morality of someone who would want to live no matter what. Is it fair to call Hu a bad person because she simply didn't want to die ? Somehow her attempts at killing herself in the past is wrong but letting herself be killed in a place like this is the moral thing to do ?
Is the fact that she killed people who she perceived as bad make this whole thing better. Did these people's lives matter less than her, someone who has been trying to actually be nice to others and help them ?
Or is her attempt of being a good respectable motherly figure only just a facade to feed her ego, a person who once didn't think they deserved now hanging to every possible reason to continue fighting to stay alive ? No matter what, no matter what happens, she needs to continue living.
"A pig never hopes to grow up into a human, because it knows that a metamorphisis like that is impossible"
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possiblyreallyme · 1 day
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Once a Beckman girl, always a Beckman girl
warning: very spicey/smutty but no actual penetration, toys (vibrator), size kink if you squint, big dick benn canon.
hello! i got this idea from one of my favorite one piece writer on tumbler, @innerfare!! everyone, go check them out!! thank you so much!!
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"Come on, honey. Don't you wanna come back to my cabin?" Shanks asked drunkenly through his hiccups and wolfish grin, staggering over the countertop to hold onto the wood and wink at you.
You'd giggle, but you shook your head, cleaning the counter when he knocked over a glass of alcohol with his one elbow.
"I'm sorry, sir," You told him with that sweet smile, though you didn't seem very sorry. "I already have plans with your first mate."
Shanks backed off immediately, nodding his head and walking away before you could ask why. Even in his drunken state, he knew it was a complete waste of time to try and woo one of Benn's girls.
Plus, his first mate wasn't one to sleep around, so Shanks knew better than to interfere when he needed a night to relax. He was drunk, not heartless.
"Tough luck," Lucky Roux murmured through his mouthful of meat when Shanks told the table of pirates about the barmaid, not even looking up to console his captain. "No one gets one of Benn's girls."
"Yeah, no shit," The captain murmured with a hiccup, before slouching against the table with a few more, spinning a bottle cap around like a pouty child.
"I just wish we knew what he does to get girls so crazy," Yasopp replied under his breath, though he didn't necessarily care to keep his voice low. Anyone who knew Benn knew he was a charmer, even if he didn't go around flirting as much as his captain.
If only they knew. If only they knew how their Benn could drag his fingers across a lady's skin and make her feel like she was a work of art. How as much as Shanks told him one-night stands and hookups shouldn't last more than 30 minutes, he just can't leave a girl like that.
Was he not supposed to stretch her with his fingers? How was she supposed to fit him if he didn't— while you're at it, doesn't it feel better when you let her ride your face until she's squealing and pulling at your hair? And it would weight much too heavy on his conscious if he left a woman alone in bed when she's tired and sore and in need of some love, when he could put his left-over energy to use and make her a nice meal, maybe give her a massage to ease the ache he caused.
Of course a man like him was so popular with the ladies. He was practically made for women, with how he could memorize your body like the back of his hand, as if he's known you his whole life, but he only just learned your damn name.
He'll coo in that deep voice of his, say things a pirate most certainly shouldn't be saying to someone he'll never see again, with that charming smile on his face and slowly rolling his hips into yours, thumbing at your clit until you've coated the sheets in as much cum as you could give him.
And yet, he's never come across as a player. He isn't a womanizer; he isn't someone like Shanks who can't be trusted to remember his partners names after a week. He's tough as nails and brutal, but to the women whose hearts still throb for the first mate, he was a sweetheart. The type to empathize and sooth when he's just a little too big to fit all the way in your cunt, wiping your tears with kisses and assure you that you've taken more than enough for him to enjoy, so don't feel guilty.
"Benn," You're whining that night, just after you close and the Red Force was snickering when Beckman puts his hand on the small of your back, dwarfing you so intensely you felt your face go hot. You should have fucking guessed that a man with hands bigger than your head had a cock to match.
"Shh, I know, sweetheart. Just relax," He soothed, large fingers parting your labia and pulling up the hood of your clit, circling the little nerve with an ease that made you wonder if he'd done this before with you.
You knew good and damn well you'd remember if a man like this had ever been with you before, but he hadn't even taken his eyes off your face and yet he found your clit almost faster than you could.
You couldn't focus on that though, already fighting off delirium you only thought a cock could bring you, taken by surprise how he could get you so dumb when all he had done was fuck you with that big black vibrator. He kept you sat upright on his desk by letting you lay your head on his shoulder, fluttering kisses against your jaw and rubbing your back when you clenched around the toy and whined for more, soothing you with his whispers like a father soothing his baby in the dead of night.
"Not yet, little one." It had been not yet all damn night, and you were ready for more. Eyes locked on the tent in his pants, large and clearly thick enough to stretch you to your limit, but you couldn't find it in you to care how much it would hurt. He cared though, and thank God for that. He couldn't live with himself if one of his sweethearts got hurt when it was his job to make sure they were well taken care of and happy, even though Shanks tried to explain to him that his job was simply to get off and go.
When he finally pulled the vibrator out and let you slump against hi desk, he kissed along the inside of your thighs and cleaned up the mess dripping to your knees, murmuring enough poetic praise to keep you high on orgasm for longer than your ego appreciated.
"Aw, baby doll," He chuckled faintly against your cunt, a smile stretching across his lips when you squirmed and whined when his stubble brushed along your sensitive thighs. "You still wanna take my cock, don't you?"
"Yes." Your mother would be ashamed at how fast you answered the pirate, who merely chuckled again and lifted you into his arms.
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applesontheground · 2 days
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I have a big, beautiful, fat fucking request for you. Let me get, some Danny Johnson, him totally, ferally obsessed with the reader. He is down BAD for her. He has so many cravings, he doesn't know where to *start* when he finally breaks into her place. He wants to do it all and has a knife, rope, duct tape and nothing but time since your vacation just started and no one is expecting to see you for DAYS. All he knows is he wants to fuck you and see you cry and bleed, ruin you for anyone else. <3
last night never happened 📞
SO, THIS IS GOING TO BE THE FIRST DIVE INTO DANNY, HUH?
As someone who's coming out of one hell of a break, i'm very excited to find my writer's muscle again, and what better way than to finally get started on some of my requests? :D
This is also a part of celebrating @bisexual-horror-fan's birthday today! I told Bex I wanted to do something special for this, and give a good reminder I sure don't forget about any ideas that get thrown at me... even the ones that have sat in the inbox for far too long.
Hope you like it, Bex. Happy birthday!! ❤
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NSFW | Word Count: 3,138 | Danny Johnson x Female Reader contains MAJOR DUBCON THEMES, stalking/obsession, masturbation, B&E, sadomaso, knifeplay/v light bloodplay, titfucking, BDSM, gagging, fingering, orgasm denial 🎼: x, x
“How do we know the stories that come from that beat are always going to center around this part of town?”
“Well,” A pause, a knowing pause that was tired of answering the question, “How do we know it isn’t? This is downtown, [Y/N].”
Then came a small murmur from the group. You were silent, but you didn’t lower your head. It was a standard meeting with the head photographer, and you were merely sitting in. More of an intern than any sort of employee, it was almost mindless to speak up like you did. You appeared not to understand that it was all supposed to deter you from being so steady on your pedestal, of once-believed expertise that you were ahead of some nonexistent curve in reasoning. Your unwavering blink, a denial to be crushed despite the odds falling against your face, was tantalizing.
It made the muscles in his hands flex, white knuckling as he folded his hands and craned his neck to force his eyes on the space in front of him. You had no right to know just what those hands wanted to do, no one besides him did – at least, while he was forced to exist so identifiable in public, surrounded by others.
Someone could gut that pretty little body like a fish and she still wouldn’t find the need to run from the knife. That idea raced to the forefront of his head, a realization that made him need to shift uncomfortably, pretend his nose itched to explain to the world why a jolt of energy had just shot down his leg, made him almost leap at some thought up opportunity.
There was a scheduled break in the work – for all of the team, including you – after that session. A full week to catch up on the work at hand, take the time to do what mattered if you were already there. Although the weather was great for travel, for visiting friends, you had been idly chatting about it after the meeting, mentioning there were no plans outside of “decompressing”.
It was perfect, and he nearly moved in closer to get a look at you, mere steps away from where he had been sitting. He couldn’t meet your eyes just yet. It all came from deep in his chest, something that drummed sweat in his hands and made him promptly leave the meeting room without another look around.
Some time that evening, remembering the curve of your jaw when you would turn to look at the clock on the wall and melting into the hot sweat against his hand that stroked to the rhythm that he’d believe resembled a pulse under his fingers, Danny decided you were going to be his next project. He had been sliding ideas of others that he saw along with you day in and day out, and you were a babe, sure… but this oblivion you showed, a deer with no thought behind the eyes in the face of an oncoming car. It made him want to get under that skin.
When he had seen you before this decision, it was all casualties: picking up pencils that slipped off your desk, null glances when you passed each other in the hall. He would then observe from afar, over the edges of a novel he was reading or a laptop screen, acting like he was far more preoccupied with his work and you none the wiser. He could care less about editing photos he took, the program making his computer grow hot as he would instead shift his stare to you, fixing flyers on a corkboard or chatting with another body.
The way your hair framed your face and made you appear so friendly, mundane being too stale and homely being too chaste. You had a quirk in your lips, a scoff to your giggles; that all made you seem a little more than something plain.
Finally, there came the photographs. You walking by the building, mostly outdoors settings where he could perch somewhere perfect, capture your likeness without any sort of hints or the confines of indoors closing off noises, the way he had to sometimes move alongside you. When people approached, there was always a bird in the trees, something else happening to make Danny look unsuspecting. No one noticed anything close enough to see you in the background each time he was out on field work.
It was an easy plan to put together, because he figured he’d just need the basics: a hunter’s knife, curved and ridged in little spots for the variety and the flare. Then, a basic nylon rope, something itchy and uncomfortable to add to every reaction that he was seeking, knowing he could tear from you. He had gotten it on sale.
The idea to save his zipties, wanting to use them but recognizing there should be other times, only made a smile quirk on his lips. It would be the perfect plan for another visit, and that possibility would make him suck in a breath. He took the duct tape instead. That’d be far more fun than his other supplies he had used just as soon as a month prior.
The entering itself was as simple as he had imagined it would be. He had watched you come home from an evening’s grocery shopping, ready to hide from the world for this long week. He had waited until the streetlights on your corner turned on, a sign sundown was well underway, before standing from the bench he had been lounging on. One eye had been kept on some photographer’s notes he had been working on – he had to actually get some work done, form that alibi nice and early – and one on your front door, your windows as you passed through like a sweet visage only for him. He slipped the cloak on, the mask in hand as he walked across the street, found a bush outside your home, and got into position.
The first star in the sky rearing its luminous face was what got him to stand again, slipping through an unlocked garage door on the side of your home. You were so trusting of anyone who could find their way through the cracks of your personal life, your abode that maybe had enough locks to keep guys like him out…but unutilized.
He’d be sure to hold that faith up to the light for you. How real was it, [Y/N]? You’d really let anyone have a hold of your security, seeing that your coworkers treat it so poorly, laugh at you?
You barely yelled, more so yelped in shock before slipping in your socked feet around the kitchen when he let himself inside. He had considered making it more explosive, but sliding from a curtain and imposing with a feverish desire to feel that exposed skin he was seeing was far more interesting.
Moving before thought only made the soles of his shoes feel heavy on the floor, solid in his own movement.
“Where are you going, baby cakes?” he asked, laughing when your jaw dropped open. Again, it made a crick in his muscles tense, shiver as he willed self-control that was merely buying time.
He couldn’t go ballistic, not yet. Maybe not even during this visit.
He was heaving breaths, silent laughter in his chest and bubbling along the brook of desperate gasps for air. You tried to push your body away, the skin of your thighs and back squeaking painstakingly against linoleum. With a lunge that sent him on his hands and knees, the assailant merely prowled after you, eye contact much easier now from behind the slim shape of the mask.
He took his time; it wasn’t like you could make your way to the door in any way that would cut ice. Those eyes of yours, confused but still meeting the mask’s own in some unwavering attempt to comprehend what was happening. It only made the connection of pressing flush into your body more rewarding.
The first audible sound was an ecstatic giggle from his throat, one that could blow the whole lid off his entrance and his identity should you be able to recall what “Jed Olsen” from work sounded like, remember anything in the brief interactions you two shared…
You wouldn’t, and he knew that when you choked out, not sure what to even ask first, “Who- What are you doing!?”
He nodded quaintly down at you. “Something I should’ve done a long, long time ago.”
On your back, you really could've found the leverage to wiggle him off. Still, when the steady throb protruding from a pair of dark jeans and curtained with the robe touched your chest, it disarmed you.
It only got worse for your composure as his hand trailed between your breasts, and he then realized a knife wasn't ready for that spot yet. You jerked your hips against his own slightly, a meek warning with no bite that was met with his gloved hands touching them next, and you felt the way his palms were shaking. The shudder from your abdomen was involuntary.
Danny wasn't untrained, just at the hilt.
You shuddered, a hard swallow fighting gravity and the threat of that hunter’s knife now being grabbed from the floor, touching your bare thigh in an idle drag. It was in sync with a gentle motion he was making with his hips. One could assume it was just him trying to keep balance, but you saw his free hand go to his belt and start undoing it, and you sucked in a breath again. Breathing was all you could really bring yourself to do.
“Not gonna stop me?” He asked with a huff, opening his hands with the blade rolling against his palm idly. You murmured something intelligible, bracing the floor as his thighs squeezed the outside of your hips. He froze, a second of breath before grabbing you by your shirt collar, the knife sawing into the hem of your collar and making you jerk back. Still, you didn't scream as he tore through it, and let its messy remains fall behind you, a weird bump in the smooth floor that only gave you a little more discomfort.
"Awe, I appreciate you keeping your voice down." He cooed, idly pulling his pants zipper down and freeing himself. His cock fit between your tits, a slow motion that went up the middle portion between your stomach and your chest, a slow slide up your sternum, and then back down in an experimental pull. You didn't look down on the first thrust, but the second time warm metal brushed your face. A Jacob's Ladder twitched slightly at getting some attention.
The noise you let out, appalled by your own enjoyment, got him to falter again. You felt his own in the way he had to roll his shoulders. You turned your head, looking at the closest thing to you on the kitchen floor and only seeing the stretch of tile. The cool sensation was appreciated against your face, if nothing else.
“Come on, [Y/N].” The weight of your name, your actual name, made your throat tighten, meeting eyes with him in a snap of your head. This couldn’t be a stranger, a sure tone as he insisted with another trace of your searing thigh with a nitrile roll of texture up your skin, touching the marks of the knife and making you grit your teeth from behind shaking lips.
“You could at least try.”
He had to start pointing his energy into something that wasn't going to leave you in a pool of blood on the floor, take the urge back into sliding his dick in between your breasts and look down at it rather than you. He wondered if you could tell where his eyes were, and from where you saw it between the fight to keep from actually getting pleasure from this, he just looked focused on either you or what he was doing to you.
Still, you couldn't deny the weight of the assailant against your stomach, the way he pinned your legs together with his own in something far, far from chaste. You could do more, your unbound arms and hands could push him. Your free legs could come up, push a knee into his stomach, right in that cock that was helping itself to your bare skin. Still, he let a choked noise slip as his pace went a little quicker, and he then snapped the mask to face you more clearly, show he was looking up at your face.
"Hey, be a sweetheart for me." He asked, one hand on his own thigh and the other still holding the knife, the flat side of the blade tapping your shoulder and making you flinch slightly. "I have a proposal to make this easier for both of us. You can either hold your tits together for me, or I'm going to go ahead and tie them up."
You furrowed your brow, and he then warned you, "Five seconds." Quickly, and to your own disgust, your hands came up to cover your collarbone, arms and elbows squeezing together to give him what he wanted. The first slide between them was a little rough, skin catching before pre-cum from a few more thrusts made it easier.
He was far too worked up already, and more so than you. It only made the recognition that he was busting and able to leave before you even recognized what had happened a goal he was desperate for. The weeks of watching you from afar, getting to feel that jaw and those eyes on him was almost too much.
"Jesus," It wasn't reverent, it wasn't grateful. The first intelligible word out of your mouth was a plea, and it only made Danny stop thinking and falter as cum started to spurt out in the middle point between your breasts, deep between the valley. Bending almost perpendicular to you, the mask was inches away from your face, and you let out a gentle moan to the sensation.
One of your hands had his cum on the finger, and it was an insane move on your part, but what better way to try to end this than to scare him? You lifted a finger to your lips, and he saw your tongue lick up its length, his labored breathing stilled and the knife scratched tiled floor as he fumbled with it.
He had to shake out his hands to keep from letting them snug around your neck, scoffing under his breath to keep from snarling like an animal. He reached for the tape that he had placed on the counter in his setup, a loss of pressure on your body but your head was spinning to fast to take advantage of that, heaving breaths and trying not to make more noise as he ripped a strip off.
“Oh. Do you think you’re good enough to taste me?” He pressed the cool tape to your mouth, eliciting a shocked noise that you had been holding back until now. He leaned in, tilting his head and the chin of the mask brushing yours in a callous scratch of plastic. He turned attention to your wrists, taking them off your chest and pulling them down to sit on your still clothed abdomen. The rope had been fastened to his belt, weighing down off his hip from him unbuckling it. He unraveled it, still shivering from the exertion as he got them around your wrists.
“When do you think you’ll get that chance again. Huh, slut?” You just gawked, lips pushing against the tape, unable to answer and unable to consider what the fuck he meant by that. He played around with the idea of getting to see you again, “Next week? Next month, maybe?”
The rubber nitrile of his glove framed one side of your face as he then spoke in a more severe voice again, “Because I’m not done with you, [Y/N]. Not tonight.” He laughed when you let out a noise, trying to sound horrified. It became real as he finally slipped under your waistband, the cozy shorts and underwear barely acknowledged by his hand as he found your entrance in no time.
“Think you can wait?” He asked, hearing a more confident, more aroused noise from you from behind the tape as you rolled your head. He slid his middle in, the pressure along with all the fiddling he had been doing to stop himself from the choking, the tearing, only got his limp dick twitching slightly and another one going in with it after a few prods.
He worked until that shudder from your lower body came again, and you were in an even string of moaning under him, the mask all you saw in shy glimpses as you had to quickly forget this situation and let the pleasure take you down. When you clenched hard around his hand, he then pulled out, and the tears were quick to form in your eyes as you put on a pathetic display, glaring at him as your bound hands slapped him in the chest.
"I think I can wait." He giggled, like he was in trouble with you as he yanked the rope from your wrists, gathering it up as he stood again. You used the leverage to touch your face, and he suddenly knelt down.
"Don't cry, baby." He reminded you, a gentle tap on your face as he then paused to cup your cheek, rub the remnants of your slick against your face, "I'll be back for you."
He tore the duct tape off, a glance down to make sure the cum on your chest was dried and not going to be enjoyed in a way that mattered again before doing it. The wail was the first and only noise that had gone above confused moans and murmurs, and it was more involuntary from the quick motion, the pain of an industrial tool used on such gentle skin.
You caught a look at yourself in the reflection of the knife as he quickly took it from the floor and stood a final time. There was blood on your face, too, and looking down you saw he had done more than just dance the blade of his knife across your inner thighs.
He was already rushing out again, closing the door behind him in an insanely casual move, so you took the moment of utter shock and still on the floor of your own house to pull your leg into better view.
[How did he know my name starts with a D? / Why did he carve a very clear, concise letter "D" amongst the other marks?" ]
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sissylittlefeather · 2 days
Text
Heartbreaker
A/N: I'm frantically working on the kinktober ficlets, but I had to take a break and write something I could publish 😂. I've had this idea to write something based on the song Heartbreaker for a while and finally decided to write it. Thanks to @ccab and @atleastpleasetelephone for encouraging me with this one. This is an AU set in 1984 where Elvis is a lifeguard at a public pool. Think Billy from Stranger Things, but it's Elvis...
Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, cussing, kissing, fingering, oral sex (both receiving), p in v penetrative sex, unprotected sex, ejaculation
Word count: ~3.2k
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It's 1984, 4 days after your 36th birthday. You look through your sunglasses for your kids in the public pool. Jennifer, your 12 year old daughter, is sitting on the edge of the pool with friends, talking and laughing. You remember what it was like to be young and innocent and hopeful. Now you're here, married to a man who gives you a stable living but doesn't go out of his way to do much more, with two kids who keep you so busy you haven't been able to start the career you had planned when you got married right out of college. Your 10 year old son, Brian, runs up to you and yanks the headphone from your Walkman out of your ear.
"Mom, can I get a popsicle?"
"Sure, bud. Here." You dig a dollar out of your bag and hand it to him and he bounds off with his friends. He's a little wild and it exhausts you more than you care to admit. Rearranging your headphones, you settle back against the beach chair and close your eyes as the music bumps in your ears. It's your favorite song: Heartbreaker by Pat Benatar. You have a hard time not singing along, so your toes bounce to the beat.
From across the pool, Elvis sees you spread out on your beach towel in your hot pink and turquoise one piece. He notices your feet moving as you mouth words to whatever song is playing in your headphones. His eyes drift up and down your body. You're older than he is, he can tell, but it can't be by much, not with the way your figure looks in a swimsuit. He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth and decides to make you his next conquest.
You're finally resting peacefully when your friend Carol grabs your shoulder and shakes you. You open your eyes and move your headphones reluctantly.
"What?"
"He's coming over here!" She's somewhere between excitement and panic.
"Who? God, Carol calm down." She ignores you and squeals.
"The lifeguard! The new hot one!" You roll your eyes. She's told you about him before, but this is the first time you've been at the pool together since then.
"Why would he come over here? Seriously, Carol. Chill out. You sound like a teenager." You try to lay back again but she inhales sharply and shakes your shoulder again. She does seem to calm down suddenly, though, and you realize something is casting a shadow over you.
"Hi, Elvis!" Carol chirps. You watch as she plays with her hair and bats her eyelashes.
"Hi, Carol. Love those sunglasses." She almost melts right in front of you and you have to actively suppress your eye roll. "Who's your friend?"
He gestures towards you with his chin and then you make eye contact. It's only then that you notice how impossibly attractive he is. Your heart flutters a little against your will and you smile.
"I'm y/n."
"You mind?" He waves towards the end of your beach chair and you nod. As he sits down on the end of your chair, Carol looks between you and bristles with envy. He takes your hand and kisses the back of it softly. Your breathing picks up and you start to sweat a little. "I'm Elvis. Nice to meet ya."
"Y/n's son is the one you had to yell at about running a few times earlier." Carol says in an accusatory tone, like she's trying to get you in trouble. Elvis chuckles, but doesn't move his eyes from you.
"That little shit is yours?" You blush a bit and look down at your lap.
"Yeah, that little shit's mine."
"He your only one?" Carol realizes this conversation is going to continue without her and scoffs, leaning back in her own chair huffily.
"No, my daughter is around here somewhere too. She's twelve."
"No way. You're not old enough to have a 12 year old." He smiles and winks, rolling his chewing gum around in his mouth. You laugh and try to maintain eye contact.
"I assure you, I am." Your eyes roam over him as he chuckles. He's got his hair done like it's 1956 and it reminds you of your first crush. It seems out of place, but you're not complaining. His body is lithe and toned and he's got a tan from working at the pool.
"Hey, I wanna show you something. Come with me." He stands up suddenly and offers you his hand. You look at Carol, who huffs again and pretends to be very interested in her book. Deciding you don't have anything to lose, you take his hand and stand up, sliding your sandals on.
"Don't you have to be up on the chair?"
"Not for another ten minutes. I'm on my break." He leads you into one of the saunas, spitting his gum in a trash can, and closes the door. You look around and before you know it, he's grabbed you and pressed his lips against yours in a passionate kiss. You pull back quickly.
"Woah. What are you doing?!"
"Uh, I'm kissin' you." He looks down at you, surprised by your hesitation.
"I have a husband. I can't do this."
"Yeah? He's good to you?" He raises his eyebrows. It's like he can sense you haven't been fucked in six months.
"I mean... no... but... that doesn't matter!" He brushes a stray hair out of your face.
"Doesn't it?" He leans in and kisses your cheek gently and you moan softly, trying desperately to stand your ground.
"Elvis... I'm... how old are you anyway?" He leans back and sighs.
"That really doesn't matter." You pull away from him and make like you're going to leave. He grabs you and wraps you back in his arms. "I'm 22. Plenty old enough to know that I want you."
You look up at him, spellbound for a bit and then shake your head.
"Elvis-"
"What if you didn't think about all the reasons you can't do this?" He puts his hands together behind your back and pulls you in closer. Without thinking, you snake your arms up around his neck.
"I can't do this right now... my kids..." He leans in and presses his forehead to yours.
"You ever seen the pool at night?"
"At night?"
"It's a full moon. Meet me here at 10 tonight. We'll see where the moonlight takes us." An alarm on his digital watch goes off and he pulls away. "I gotta be back in the chair. Say you'll meet me."
You nod and he kisses your forehead. He squeezes you one last time and then heads out of the sauna, holding the door for you to walk out in front of him. You make your way back to your chair and Carol ignores you. He winks as he gets to the ladder and then climbs up into his spot, spreading his legs wide. Your eyes drift to his thighs in those little red shorts and there's a tingle between your legs that you haven't felt in years. You want to say you have no intention of meeting him tonight, but the wetness under your swimsuit says otherwise.
******
At 9:47 you stand and look at yourself in the mirror. You have on your best dress, your hair teased and hair sprayed perfectly, your bright eyeshadow making your eyes pop.
"Where you going?" Your husband asks sleepily from his place in your bed.
"Oh, nowhere. Just out with the girls."
"Okay. Have fun. Just don't be out too late. I need you up in time to make my lunch tomorrow." Your heart hardens as you think about all the things you've done for him over the years without so much as a "thank you".
"Eddie?" You walk over to his side of the bed and try to sit on his lap. He moves away from you uncomfortably.
"What?" He stares at you blankly.
"You want to make love before I go? I could be late. Or just stay home. I have on some sexy underwear-"
"Y/n, I'm tired. And sexy underwear is only sexy on a sexy person. I'm not trying to hurt your feelings, but let's be honest. You're 36. The sexy ship has sailed." He pats your bottom and then picks up a book from his nightstand.
You swallow the lump in your throat and head for the door, no longer feeling guilty for what you're about to do.
******
Elvis shifts nervously and checks his watch again.
10:13pm.
He starts to wonder if you're really not coming and rearranges his jacket anxiously. Another deep sigh later and he's ready to give up. As he starts to walk back to his 1958 Cadillac, he sees a car pull up. You park and jump out, jogging towards him quickly, your heels clicking on the pavement.
"I'm sorry I'm late!" His whole face relaxes into a smile.
"Not a problem, honey. I'm just glad you're here." When you get to him, he throws his arm around your waist and pulls you in close, kissing your temple. He steps back and looks at you. "Whew. You really are a babe."
You blush and swallow the lump in your throat again as he shakes his head and clicks his tongue. You want to argue with him, but he doesn't give you a chance. He pulls you towards the pool entrance swiftly. At the gate, he looks around to make sure no one is watching and then opens it with his key.
"Are we not supposed to be here?" You whisper. Against your better judgment, the illicit nature of this whole endeavor turns you on.
"No, it's fine. I have a key." The gate swings open and he stands there with a cocky grin. "Come on."
He takes you to the edge of the pool. It glistens under the fat silver moon and he comes up behind you, sliding his arms around your waist.
"Pretty, huh?" He whispers in your ear, pressing his lips to your neck.
"Yeah. It is." You whimper.
"You might be the only thing prettier than this." He kisses the side of your neck again and you can't control it anymore. A sob surges up out of you and tears start to slide down your cheeks. He realizes you're crying and turns you to face him.
"Baby, you're cryin'! What's wrong?"
"N-nothin'." You try to suck it up and hiccup instead.
"Doll. You're clearly upset. Tell me what's goin' on." You look up at him with your face shiny with tears.
"You can stop pretending to be attracted to me. I don't know what your goal is here, but I know I'm not sexy. Not anymore." He rolls his eyes dramatically and wipes the tears from your face with his thumbs.
"Now, you just stop it. You're the sexiest woman I've ever seen. In fact, I'm havin' a hard time not rippin' this dress off of you right now."
"Really?" He smiles.
"Really. You gonna let me kiss ya now?"
"If that's what you want."
"If that's what... honey. Okay." He pulls you in close to him and presses his hips against yours so you can feel his erection. You erupt in a cascade of giggles. He smiles, glad to see you happy again, and then pulls you into a kiss.
This time you don't stop him.
"You're a beautiful woman, y/n." He kisses down your jaw to your neck and presses his lips to the soft skin there over and over again. "And so sexy."
"I'm not too old?" You moan softly.
"Not at all, baby. Women are like wine. You just get better with age." You smile as he continues kissing your collarbone. "And I'd love a taste..."
That's all it takes for you to start frantically clawing at his clothes, your tongue shoved into his mouth. He doesn't protest at all, in fact he helps you undress himself until he's down to just his slacks. Your hand goes to his belt and he stops you.
"Now hold on a minute. This is a two-way street. I'm not just gonna stand here ass naked with you fully clothed." He says it a few words at a time between kisses.
"Well, then leave your underwear on." He pulls back and grins that stupid lopsided grin that makes you weak.
"Not wearin' any." A blush rises in your cheeks, adding to the pink you put there earlier with a makeup brush. "My turn."
His hand finds the zipper on the back of your dress and he pulls it down, letting it fall to your feet. He looks at you standing there in just your underwear and heels and whistles.
"Goddamn, baby, you look like a fuckin' pinup. What I would do to have my camera right now." Your confidence is growing by the second, so you pose for him. He pretends to be snapping photos of you as you move from pose to pose for a bit. When you turn away from him and bend over a little, though, he groans. "Fuuuck. That's enough of that."
He pretends to throw the camera and then pulls you over to him, kissing you deeply as he takes your ass in both hands and squeezes. His hands move up your back and unhook your bra easily. He slides it off and tosses it, leaning in to pull one of your nipples into his mouth. You forget to be self-conscious as he continues his worship of your chest, licking and sucking and nibbling as you moan softly. He moves down your body, sliding your panties down over your thighs and then removing your shoes with them. His dick twitches when he sees your pretty little polished toes.
Once he's got you naked, he pushes your legs apart and dives into your pussy tongue first, licking up your slit before pushing the tip of it into you. Your hands immediately go to his hair and you throw your head back. No one has touched you like this in over a decade.
"Oh, God, Elvis, fuck!" You've completely forgotten that you're outdoors as you moan loudly while he licks and sucks your clit. He slides one of his long fingers up inside you and looks up at you.
"I was right."
"What?"
"You taste fantastic." He goes back to licking you as he finger-fucks you and you bite your lip to keep from screaming. You haven't had an orgasm that wasn't self-made in so long you forgot what it feels like. When it hits you, you're physically incapable of holding back as your legs shake and the pleasure runs through you like electric warmth. He tongues you through it, gracefully ignoring the force with which you hold his hair and grind into his face.
Finally, he pulls back and wipes his face with his hand as he drops his pants and kicks off his loafers. When you see his erect cock bounce free, your mouth starts to water and you do something you never thought you'd do again. You drop to your knees and pull him into your mouth, working him quickly with your hand and your tongue at the same time.
"Fucking shit, baby." He groans as he takes a handful of your hair and starts to guide your movements on him. You open your throat and push him as far as he'll go, almost making it to the hair at the base of him. You gag a little and pull back.
"Sorry, I haven't done this in a long-"
"Shhh. C'mere." He moves over to a beach chair and fixes the angle of it to be what he wants. Then he puts you on the chair so that you're holding onto the back of it faced away from him.
"Something tells me you've done this before." You say with your eyebrows raised. He strokes his cock and smiles.
"I've been a lifeguard for six years. What do you think?" His arrogance should be annoying, but really it just turns you on. He arranges himself behind you and lifts one knee to give himself more leverage. You feel him tease your clit with his tip as he gets it wet with your arousal. Then, he lines himself up with your entrance and starts to push into you.
He holds your hips and moves slowly, giving you time to adjust to the size of him. You whimper as he enters you, inch by tantalizing inch. When he gets to the last bit, it's like he can't stand it anymore and he slams into you, making you see stars as he rams into your g-spot.
"That good baby? You like my cock inside you?" All you can do is nod and whimper and he takes that as permission, pulling back and fucking into you harder with each thrust. He pounds you relentlessly, grunting with the sensation of you so tight and wet around him. "Fuck, that's good."
You hear him mumble as he slams into you over and over again. He moves your hair out of the way and then pulls you back against him, kissing the back of your neck and shoulder. He whispers into your ear.
"So pretty when I fuck you. You're so sexy, baby." You let out a soft moan and he holds you there tight against him as he continues to slide his cock in and out of you. "Gonna cum, baby, where you want it?"
"On my ass." You don't know where that comes from. You've never said anything so dirty in your entire life. But he groans with pleasure at the thought of it and then reaches forward to collapse the beach chair. Without thinking, you lean all the way over and rest your head on your forearms. The change in angle brings on another orgasm for you and you whine and grit your teeth as you cum hard on his dick while he pounds you. He feels your walls pulsing around him and pulls out just in time.
"Fuck, yeah... baby..." He moans as he pumps his dick and shoots his hot release all over your ass. When he's finished, he falls back on his heels trying to catch his breath. He grabs his shirt and uses it to clean you up. You turn in the chair and he lays next to you, pulling you into his chest.
"I don't know who told you that you're not sexy, but they're a damn liar."
"My husband..."
"You deserve so much better." He lifts your fingers to his lips and kisses each one gently.
"Oh, yeah, you gonna step-parent my kids?" You ask, your voice tinged with derision.
"No. I'm just sayin' you could do better. You should do better." You look up into his face and meet his blue eyes. He's not suggesting he's the man for the job, but he might not be wrong. "Until then, I'm here for this whenever you need it."
He kisses your forehead and holds you tight against him and you think of the words to your favorite song.
"You're the right kind of sinner to release my inner fantasy..."
"What was that, baby?"
"Nothing, just lyrics to a song."
You look up at the stars and wonder how long you can stay here naked and wrapped in his arms. Not long enough.
******
The End
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Taglist:
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rebelliousstories · 3 days
Text
Past the Point of No Return
Relationship: Remy LeBeau/Gambit x Reader
Fandom: X-Men
Request: Yes by Anon
Warnings: Fluff, Angst
Word Count: 1,238
Main Masterlist: Here
X-Men Masterlist: Here
Summary: A difficult mission is causing tensions to rise amongst the crew; even those who did not go on it.
Consider Donating: Here
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It has been three days since they had heard from the team. Cyclops, Jean, Gambit and Logan had not checked in with the school in three long days. And it was starting to drive her mad. She had no idea where they were, what was happening to them, or even if they were alive. The Professor was trying his hardest to find them telepathically, but there was something sort of resistance impeding his abilities.
“Please tell me you’re calling me in here for some good news, Professor.” She exhaled in frustration as she walked into the war room.
“I have finally broken whatever the mental barrier was that was preventing me from gaining access to their minds. It appears that Mr. Sinister has been holding them for the last three days. There have been some… experimentations done. In the effort of raising a superior mutant race I have no doubt.” Charles explained, rubbing his temples to expunge the strain he felt.
“Well are they alright? They’re alive, right?” While her voice was sharp, there was definitely a tremble there that was not there before.
“Yes, they’re alright. But we mustn’t be hasty in our retrieval of them or even a retaliation against Sinister.” But she was not hearing any of it. She was already half way to the secondary, single plane before Charles caught up with her again.
“Listen to me. Stop, please!” He pleaded as she finishing zipping up her suit.
“What now, Charles? We can’t just leave them to face a fate worse than death.”
“I believe that they will be home before either of us knows it. Come back to the school. Get some sleep. You haven’t gotten much over the past week. Let’s get you fed and to bed, my dear.” With a gentle hand, he managed to pull her just a little bit towards the school. A wave of exhaustion washed over her, almost knocking her knees out from underneath her. Bracing against Charles’ chair, she conceded and followed the man back to the school that they called home.
He watched over her as she slept later on that evening. Part of it was to ensure that she was not going to sneak off in the middle of the night, but the other part was to ensure that she actually slept. Over the past week that the team had been gone, she had only gotten maybe a couple hours a night which was not good enough when she was trying to keep an ear out on the radio in case the team came under trouble. Charles entered the very top layer of her mind, prompting it to bring forth pleasant memories to keep her satiated during her rest, and then leaving immediately afterwards.
Xavier’s communicator suddenly went off with the welcomed sound of Cyclops’ voice. Wheeling out of her room, he happily received the news that they had all escaped Sinister’s island and diabolical plans before it could go any further. They would be arriving within the next couple of hours, and were going to require medical attention just to be safe. Bidding the young man goodbye and safe travels, Charles called Hank in order to have someone to look over his beloved X-Men.
By the time she had awoken, her clock stated that it was five o’clock in the morning; the following day. She hastily dressed and brushed her teeth in order to make her way into the war room, when something caught her eye. Remy’s jacket was not there when she went to bed last night. And this one had a new cut on the shoulder that she would inevitably mend later. Could it be possible that they were home?
Weaving through the maze of the different hallways and corridors of the mansion turned school, she tried to focus on finding the voices that she had been dying to hear again. She checked the library, the study, common rooms, kitchen, even the Professor’s office; they were nowhere to be found apparently. It was not until she had made her way down to the level below that faint vibrations became soft whispers. Following those sounds, she found that she was being pulled towards the lab that doubled as a medical room when needed.
As she made her way to the threshold, there they were. A much needed, welcomed sight to her eyes and mind. Remy was getting his shoulder bandaged up. Jean held Scott’s hand as they lay their heads against one another in silent relief no doubt. Logan, being his usual self, was leaning against the wall with his eyes shut. He looked almost to be asleep, that is until her footsteps reached his ears as she stepped inside.
“Remy. You’re home!” Her exclamation caught everyone’s attention. Beast was still busy working on his shoulder, but that did little to deter the Cajun or his lover.
“Chere, is alrigh’. Da Gambit is here.” He held his uninjured arm out in order to receive her. As carefully as she could, without disrupting her friend’s work to repair him, she wrapped her arms around his body. Gambit placed a kiss to her head as soon as she nuzzled herself into his chest.
“I was so scared, Remy. I was so worried you weren’t coming home. Thinking about you guys in there, being experimented on. Just made me feel so horrible knowing that I couldn’t get you out.” Her voice darkened just a touch as she continued thinking about what had occurred.
“Now, now, chere. Ain’t no need to be thinkin’ ‘bout such things now. We alrigh’. We make it back home.” Remy tried to reassure her but he felt her still tense underneath his hands.
“But it’s not right. We’re just letting Sinister get away, after everything he’s done to you. Even after all he’s done specifically to Jean and Scott,” she shot up and out of her spot. “So why can’t we go hunt him down now? You guys are safe. He shouldn’t be. I’m tired of waiting around for him to do something. We’re waiting for an attack instead of going and doing the attacking ourselves.”
Consumed by her own thoughts, she shot out of the medical lab and started making her way to the Blackbird. She heard the shouts of her friends from behind her but paid them no mind. After today, she would make sure that Mr. Sinister could not harm them anymore. However, blindsided by her rage, she failed to notice that her lover had run after her. Grabbing her by the hand, he spun her around to face him.
“Chere, chere, look at Gambit, yeah? C’mon, let’s see dem pretty eyes. Der ya go,” he patiently waited for his girlfriend to lock eye with himself.
“Der she is. My beautiful lady. We live t’ fight another day, yeah? We gonna get Sinister one of des days, but for now, we jus’ happy we home. You ain’t gonna be able to take him out by ya self, and we’d sure miss ya if ya gone.”
Tears streamed down her face as she realized her boyfriend’s words. Nodding, she buried her head back into his bandage clad chest.
“Let’s go lay down now, chere. I jus’ want a night wit you in my arms again. Please?” She nodded again and let him lead her away, back to their room. Revenge could wait. They had another day to spend together. It has been three days since they had heard from the team. Cyclops, Jean, Gambit and Logan had not checked in with the school in three long days. And it was starting to drive her mad. She had no idea where they were, what was happening to them, or even if they were alive. The Professor was trying his hardest to find them telepathically, but there was something sort of resistance impeding his abilities.
“Please tell me you’re calling me in here for some good news, Professor.” She exhaled in frustration as she walked into the war room.
“I have finally broken whatever the mental barrier was that was preventing me from gaining access to their minds. It appears that Mr. Sinister has been holding them for the last three days. There have been some… experimentations done. In the effort of raising a superior mutant race I have no doubt.” Charles explained, rubbing his temples to expunge the strain he felt.
“Well are they alright? They’re alive, right?” While her voice was sharp, there was definitely a tremble there that was not there before.
“Yes, they’re alright. But we mustn’t be hasty in our retrieval of them or even a retaliation against Sinister.” But she was not hearing any of it. She was already half way to the secondary, single plane before Charles caught up with her again.
“Listen to me. Stop, please!” He pleaded as she finishing zipping up her suit.
“What now, Charles? We can’t just leave them to face a fate worse than death.”
“I believe that they will be home before either of us knows it. Come back to the school. Get some sleep. You haven’t gotten much over the past week. Let’s get you fed and to bed, my dear.” With a gentle hand, he managed to pull her just a little bit towards the school. A wave of exhaustion washed over her, almost knocking her knees out from underneath her. Bracing against Charles’ chair, she conceded and followed the man back to the school that they called home.
He watched over her as she slept later on that evening. Part of it was to ensure that she was not going to sneak off in the middle of the night, but the other part was to ensure that she actually slept. Over the past week that the team had been gone, she had only gotten maybe a couple hours a night which was not good enough when she was trying to keep an ear out on the radio in case the team came under trouble. Charles entered the very top layer of her mind, prompting it to bring forth pleasant memories to keep her satiated during her rest, and then leaving immediately afterwards.
Xavier’s communicator suddenly went off with the welcomed sound of Cyclops’ voice. Wheeling out of her room, he happily received the news that they had all escaped Sinister’s island and diabolical plans before it could go any further. They would be arriving within the next couple of hours, and were going to require medical attention just to be safe. Bidding the young man goodbye and safe travels, Charles called Hank in order to have someone to look over his beloved X-Men.
By the time she had awoken, her clock stated that it was five o’clock in the morning; the following day. She hastily dressed and brushed her teeth in order to make her way into the war room, when something caught her eye. Remy’s jacket was not there when she went to bed last night. And this one had a new cut on the shoulder that she would inevitably mend later. Could it be possible that they were home?
Weaving through the maze of the different hallways and corridors of the mansion turned school, she tried to focus on finding the voices that she had been dying to hear again. She checked the library, the study, common rooms, kitchen, even the Professor’s office; they were nowhere to be found apparently. It was not until she had made her way down to the level below that faint vibrations became soft whispers. Following those sounds, she found that she was being pulled towards the lab that doubled as a medical room when needed.
As she made her way to the threshold, there they were. A much needed, welcomed sight to her eyes and mind. Remy was getting his shoulder bandaged up. Jean held Scott’s hand as they lay their heads against one another in silent relief no doubt. Logan, being his usual self, was leaning against the wall with his eyes shut. He looked almost to be asleep, that is until her footsteps reached his ears as she stepped inside.
“Remy. You’re home!” Her exclamation caught everyone’s attention. Beast was still busy working on his shoulder, but that did little to deter the Cajun or his lover.
“Chere, is alrigh’. Da Gambit is here.” He held his uninjured arm out in order to receive her. As carefully as she could, without disrupting her friend’s work to repair him, she wrapped her arms around his body. Gambit placed a kiss to her head as soon as she nuzzled herself into his chest.
“I was so scared, Remy. I was so worried you weren’t coming home. Thinking about you guys in there, being experimented on. Just made me feel so horrible knowing that I couldn’t get you out.” Her voice darkened just a touch as she continued thinking about what had occurred.
“Now, now, chere. Ain’t no need to be thinkin’ ‘bout such things now. We alrigh’. We make it back home.” Remy tried to reassure her but he felt her still tense underneath his hands.
“But it’s not right. We’re just letting Sinister get away, after everything he’s done to you. Even after all he’s done specifically to Jean and Scott,” she shot up and out of her spot. “So why can’t we go hunt him down now? You guys are safe. He shouldn’t be. I’m tired of waiting around for him to do something. We’re waiting for an attack instead of going and doing the attacking ourselves.”
Consumed by her own thoughts, she shot out of the medical lab and started making her way to the Blackbird. She heard the shouts of her friends from behind her but paid them no mind. After today, she would make sure that Mr. Sinister could not harm them anymore. However, blindsided by her rage, she failed to notice that her lover had run after her. Grabbing her by the hand, he spun her around to face him.
“Chere, chere, look at Gambit, yeah? C’mon, let’s see dem pretty eyes. Der ya go,” he patiently waited for his girlfriend to lock eye with himself.
“Der she is. My beautiful lady. We live t’ fight another day, yeah? We gonna get Sinister one of des days, but for now, we jus’ happy we home. You ain’t gonna be able to take him out by ya self, and we’d sure miss ya if ya gone.”
Tears streamed down her face as she realized her boyfriend’s words. Nodding, she buried her head back into his bandage clad chest.
“Let’s go lay down now, chere. I jus’ want a night wit you in my arms again. Please?” She nodded again and let him lead her away, back to their room. Revenge could wait. They had another day to spend together.
43 notes · View notes
stephsageek · 19 hours
Text
A preview of the Five x Lila one-shot I'm working on:
“Seriously?” she demanded.
“’Seriously’ what?” he deadpanned.
“Well, it’s Friday-bloody-night!”
“And?”
“Oi! What do you mean ‘and?’ You know damn well, I only get one night a month! One night where I make up an excuse to hang out, get out of the house, and let down my hair! And here you are, washing bloody dishes! Is that honestly all we’re going to be doing tonight?! I might as well be sitting in front of the telly watching the last of Diego’s brain cells die off while he watches Naked and Afraid!”
“What? You got a hot date with somebody else?” he quipped, tossing the towel he’d been using over his shoulder and opening a cabinet to his right. “Believe it or not, Lila, but I am not here on this planet to entertain you. You're the one who invites herself over just as an excuse to get out of the house--that has nothing to do with how I plan on spending my evening. A night of actual drinking and reading is plenty for me. I’m not the one living in a ‘domestic hellscape.’”
“Why do you have to be such an old man all the time?!” she whined.
“Maybe because I am an old man, crazy lady,” he replied, sounding unbothered, as he began to put dishes back into cabinets. Even with his back turned, Lila could hear the smile in his words. He thought this was funny!
“Believe me, I am more than aware,” she huffed.
“Don’t like it, toots, go darken somebody else’s doorstep for ‘book club,’ or whatever the hell other B.S. you feed that half-wit brother of mine,” Five snarked as he finished his chore.
He finally turned to face her, resting one hip against the counter. Lila noted he must have had a long day that day judging by the stubble along his jaw. And yet, despite his protests to the contrary, he didn't kick her out. If he didn't want her around bothering him, why give her his spare key? She watched him smile, his eyes crinkling ever so slightly in amusement. It was still strange seeing the signs of his advancing age. She’d gotten so used to him being so young that Lila found herself disconcerted to realize he was nearing physically twenty years old soon.
“C’mon, old man! Give a girl a break! I’m trapped in a bad episode of The Brady Brunch and Mr. Brady is a whiney sod!”
Five didn’t react other than to chuckle. He casually went over to another cabinet and retrieved a bottle of wine. He turned back to Lila and tipped the bottle, silently offering. She jutted her lip stubbornly. His smile widened. He turned back, returning with a bottle of scotch. He lifted his eyebrows invitingly.
Lila grinned and nodded.
Five nodded back, retrieved a pair of glasses, and went to get ice from the fridge while Lila continued with her diatribe. “I am trapped in a loveless marriage; I’m surrounded by needy people day in and day out! It’s nothing but an endless stream of carting around children, appeasing grumpy forgetful old people—no offense—”
“—None taken—”
“—trying to tune out gossipy aunties, and stroking an inept man-child’s ego! Five, I want to do something fun for a change! Something exciting! And my best and frankly only mate is a boring ass sexagenarian! Do you have any idea how sad that is?! That you of all people are the only one I look forward to seeing anymore! I love my kids and folks, sure; but it's not the same! You seriously don't have anything planned?”
Five shrugged looking non-plussed. Lila shook her head, dismayed.
“You’d think working as a time-traveling assassin and then as a government agent, you’d have developed a personality besides being annoying and uptight!”
Lila threw herself onto the table, her arms outstretched and her forehead landing on the hard surface with a knock.
She heard Five sit down across from her, patiently waiting. He sat her drink within her reach.
“Alright. I’ll bite; what did you have in mind?”
Lila turned her head slightly, peeking an eye out from between the heavy fringe of her bangs. “You’ll let me pick?”
Five sighed but smiled indulgently. “I suppose if I’m your only friend, than that means you’re my only friend too; I suppose I can be generous to somebody so pathetic as to call me of all people their friend.”
Lila sat up so quickly that Five flinched, drawing back ever so slightly in surprise.
She reached into her pocket and slapped a deck of cards on the table between them.
Five lifted an amused eyebrow. “Cards? And you call me old—”
“Not just cards, my dear man—poker!”
“Poker’s hardly what I’d call—”
“Oh! But I didn’t finish!” Lila wagged her finger, opening the cards and spreading them out on the table.
Five glanced down and reached across the space to pick out one of the jokers Lila had been searching for, removing it from the others and setting it aside.
“Oh? What’ll it be? Five-card draw?” He grinned ironically as Lila swatted at his fingers so she could dig out the other joker and set aside the ‘rules’ card. He continued. “Texas hold ‘em? Omaha?” Five took a long draw of his drink.
“Strip poker!”
Pfff!
Five expelled his drink, coughing into his fist after.
43 notes · View notes
geotjwrs · 1 day
Note
can you do a Sabrina Carpenter x Male Reader where he (R) ask her to marry him at one of her concerts
short 'n sweet
Pairings ; Sabrina Carpenter x Male!Reader
Warning/s ; none
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The crowd buzzed with excitement as Sabrina stepped back onto the stage, her silhouette glowing against the bright lights. The energy in the arena was palpable, a sea of excited fans eagerly awaiting the next song. Sabrina’s smile was warm as she waved at her audience, feeding off their enthusiasm, but tonight was special for more than just her fans. She had a surprise planned for one person in particular—someone who had no idea what was coming.
Y/N stood in the front row, his heart pounding. He had always loved watching Sabrina perform, the way she could light up a stage with her voice and her presence. But tonight felt different. Sabrina had invited him to this concert personally, and while he thought it was just a sweet gesture, he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something more. He was about to find out just how right he was.
Sabrina grabbed the microphone, her smile turning playful as the band quieted behind her. The crowd settled, sensing something unexpected was about to happen.
“So, I’ve got a little surprise for you all tonight,” Sabrina began, her voice carrying a hint of mischief. The crowd murmured in curiosity, leaning in to catch her next words.
She glanced over at Y/N, her eyes twinkling as if she were holding back a secret. He felt his breath catch in his throat, the noise of the crowd fading as her gaze lingered on him for just a second longer than usual.
“There’s someone really important to me here tonight,” she said, walking to the edge of the stage. Her voice softened, and the atmosphere shifted as if the arena itself was leaning in to listen.
The lights followed her as she stepped down, her hand outstretched toward the front row. The crowd erupted in cheers, but Y/N’s heart nearly stopped when he realized she was heading straight for him. Sabrina smiled, locking eyes with him as she reached out her hand.
“Y/N, would you come up here with me?” she asked, her voice sweet but with a hint of excitement.
The crowd’s cheers grew louder as Y/N, feeling his palms grow sweaty, took her hand. This was unexpected. His heart pounded in his chest as he looked into Sabrina’s eyes, trying to figure out what was going on. She just smiled warmly, her touch steadying him as she pulled him toward the stage.
Security parted the way, and before he knew it, Y/N was being ushered up to the platform. The bright lights were almost blinding, but all he could focus on was Sabrina, her presence calming the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside him.
Sabrina led him to a small stool placed center stage, turning to the crowd with a grin that made the entire arena feel like an intimate gathering. “Alright, guys, this one’s for someone very special.”
The crowd exploded into cheers and applause, but Y/N barely heard it. His entire world had shrunk down to Sabrina standing in front of him, her smile glowing under the spotlight. He sat down, still holding her hand, feeling the rush of adrenaline mixed with confusion and excitement.
Sabrina gave him a soft smile, her eyes locked with his for a moment before she turned back to the microphone.
“Y/N,” she began, “you’ve been such a huge part of my life, and tonight, I wanted to do something just for you. So, I’m going to sing you a little song.”
Y/N’s breath caught in his throat. He had been to so many of her concerts, watched her perform countless times, but this was different. This wasn’t Sabrina Carpenter, the pop star. This was Sabrina, the person he loved, sharing something personal and intimate with him in front of thousands of people.
The guitar strummed softly behind her, the melody slow and sweet. The lights dimmed, leaving the stage bathed in a warm, soft glow. Sabrina began to sing, her voice tender and full of emotion.
It wasn’t one of her hit singles or something that had made the charts. This was something new, something Y/N had never heard before. Her voice floated through the arena, the lyrics delicate and heartfelt. Each word seemed to speak directly to him, telling the story of their time together, the moments that had brought them closer.
The audience fell into a hushed silence, the magic of the moment settling over everyone as Sabrina poured her heart into the song. Her eyes never left his, as if the entire world had vanished and it was just the two of them, alone in the universe.
Y/N could feel the tears prickling at the corners of his eyes, overwhelmed by the love and sincerity in her voice. She was laying her soul bare in front of thousands of people, but all he could think about was how lucky he was to have someone like her in his life.
The song reached its final verse, the melody fading gently as Sabrina’s voice softened to a whisper. The last note lingered in the air, a beautiful, lingering echo of the love they shared. The crowd erupted into applause, but Y/N barely heard it. His chest felt tight with emotion, his heart so full it could burst.
Sabrina took a step closer to him, reaching out her hand. He stood up, taking it, and she pulled him into a gentle hug. “You liked it?” she whispered in his ear, her voice shaky with nerves.
Y/N pulled back just enough to look into her eyes. “That was incredible,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “You’re incredible.”
Sabrina blushed, her smile shy in a way that made Y/N’s heart flutter. They were still standing center stage, the crowd cheering around them, but for that moment, it felt like it was just the two of them, wrapped in their own little bubble of love.
Y/N was overwhelmed. His heart was pounding not just from the concert, not just from the song, but from the realization that he didn’t want to wait any longer. He had carried the velvet box in his pocket for weeks now, waiting for the perfect moment. And now, standing here with Sabrina, bathed in the warmth of the crowd’s love and the intimacy of her song, he knew this was it.
Without thinking, Y/N reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the small velvet box. Sabrina, still holding his hand, felt him pull away slightly. When she turned to look at him, her eyes widened in shock.
The crowd went silent as Y/N dropped to one knee, the bright lights illuminating him as he held the box open in front of Sabrina. The ring sparkled under the stage lights, but all Y/N could see was the look of pure surprise and love on her face.
“Sabrina,” he began, his voice steady despite the emotions coursing through him, “I wasn’t planning this tonight. But after hearing you sing that song, after standing here with you, I realized I don’t want to wait any longer.”
Tears welled in Sabrina’s eyes as she looked down at him, her hand flying to cover her mouth in shock.
“You’ve brought so much joy, so much light into my life,” Y/N continued, his heart racing. “I love you more than words can express. I want to spend the rest of my life making you as happy as you’ve made me. So, Sabrina Annlynn Carpenter, will you marry me?”
For a moment, time stood still. The crowd was silent, holding its collective breath as everyone waited for Sabrina’s response. Y/N felt the world pause, his heart pounding in his chest as he looked up at her, his love for her written in every line of his face.
Sabrina stared down at him, her eyes wide with emotion, her hand trembling as she pulled it away from her mouth. A single tear slipped down her cheek, and then, with a shaky laugh, she nodded.
“Yes,” she whispered, her voice cracking with emotion. “Yes, of course I’ll marry you.”
The arena exploded into cheers, the noise almost deafening as Y/N slipped the ring onto her finger. He stood up, pulling her into his arms as the crowd roared around them. Sabrina laughed through her tears, her arms wrapped tightly around him as if she never wanted to let go.
“You did it,” she whispered in his ear, her voice trembling with joy.
Y/N pulled back just enough to look into her eyes, his hand gently brushing a tear from her cheek. “I had to. I love you too much not to.”
Sabrina smiled, her eyes shining with happiness as she leaned in, pressing her lips to his in a soft, tender kiss. The crowd cheered even louder, but all Y/N could feel was the warmth of her lips, the softness of her touch, and the overwhelming sense of love that surrounded them.
When they finally pulled apart, Sabrina turned back to the microphone, still holding Y/N’s hand tightly in hers. She laughed, wiping at her tears as she waved to the crowd.
“Well,” she said, her voice full of joy, “I guess we just gave you all a little more than you expected tonight.”
The crowd erupted into laughter and applause, and Sabrina turned back to Y/N, her smile radiant.
“This is the best night of my life,” she whispered, her eyes filled with love as she looked up at him.
Y/N smiled, pulling her close again. “Mine too,” he whispered back. “And it’s only the beginning.”
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i wouldn’t let you get in trouble
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pair: Fred Weasley x reader
requested by anonymous
Hello could you do Fred Weasley x reader and reader can do wandless magic easily and Fred sees that she can do it and asks for her help with a prank but she's a bit reluctant but eventually gives in
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Fred Weasley was leaning against the counter in the common room, twirling his wand in his fingers, a mischievous grin spread across his face. He had a brilliant prank in mind—one that would go down in Hogwarts history—but this one required a bit more finesse than usual. He needed someone who could do wandless magic. He’d heard whispers that Y/N could do it with ease, but he wasn’t sure if she’d be willing to help.
“Oi, Y/N!” Fred called out when he saw her passing by, her arms full of books. She paused, giving him a curious look.
“What do you want, Weasley?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. She had a feeling that whatever Fred was about to propose was going to be trouble, and not the good kind.
Fred strolled over, leaning down slightly as if they were about to share a secret. “I hear you’ve got quite the skill when it comes to wandless magic.”
Y/N glanced around, as if expecting someone to be listening in. “Who told you that?”
“Doesn’t matter,” Fred said, flashing a grin. “But I was thinking, with that kind of talent, you could be a real asset to a little...project I’m working on.”
She crossed her arms, narrowing her eyes. “What kind of project?”
Fred’s grin widened. “A prank, of course. George and I’ve been cooking this one up for a while, but we’re missing the final touch. Something that’ll leave everyone talking for weeks.”
Y/N sighed, already knowing where this was going. “And you need me because...?”
“Because you’re brilliant at wandless magic. We need someone who can do a few things without people noticing—subtle, sneaky. You’re perfect for it.”
“I don’t know, Fred,” Y/N said hesitantly, shifting on her feet. “I don’t want to get into trouble.”
Fred tilted his head, giving her that signature charming smile. “Trouble? You’re talking to a Weasley, Y/N. Trouble’s practically my middle name. But I promise, no one will know it was you.”
She bit her lip, thinking it over. It wasn’t like she couldn’t do the magic he was asking for—it would be easy enough—but the idea of getting involved in one of Fred and George’s infamous pranks made her nervous.
“You promise I won’t get caught?” she asked, eyeing him skeptically.
Fred raised his hand solemnly. “On my honor. I wouldn’t let you get in trouble. I’d take the blame if anything went wrong.”
Y/N studied his face, trying to determine if he was serious. Despite his mischievous reputation, she knew Fred was the kind of person who would actually keep a promise like that.
With a sigh, she relented. “Fine. I’ll help.”
Fred’s grin widened even further, and he clapped his hands together. “Brilliant! You won’t regret it, I swear.”
Y/N shook her head, wondering if she’d regret this later. “So, what’s the plan?”
Fred leaned in close, explaining the prank in detail. Y/N listened carefully, and despite herself, she couldn’t help but be impressed by the creativity behind it. Fred wasn’t just reckless—he had a clever mind, and it showed in the intricate details of his plan.
“I’ll need you to charm the suits of armor in the corridor to move around a bit, but it has to look like they’re doing it on their own,” Fred explained. “We can’t have any wands out, or McGonagall will know someone’s up to something.”
Y/N nodded slowly. “I can do that. But just this once.”
Fred winked at her. “That’s all I need.”
When the night of the prank arrived, Y/N found herself standing in the corridor with Fred, her heart racing slightly. She held her hand out, focusing on the suits of armor, and with a small flick of her fingers, one of them shifted slightly, stepping to the side. Fred watched in awe.
“You make it look so easy,” he whispered, a hint of admiration in his voice.
Y/N smirked. “Told you.”
As the suits of armor began to move in unison, clanking and shifting along the hallway, Fred couldn’t contain his excitement. “This is going to be perfect!”
Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress a small smile. Despite her earlier reluctance, she had to admit it was fun—especially seeing Fred so thrilled with the result.
The prank went off without a hitch, and the next morning, the entire school was buzzing about the mysterious moving suits of armor. No one had any idea who was behind it, and Fred, true to his word, didn’t breathe a word about Y/N’s involvement.
“Thanks again for the help,” Fred said later, catching her in the common room. “I knew you were the right person for the job.”
Y/N shrugged, pretending like it wasn’t a big deal. “It was nothing.”
Fred chuckled. “I might just have to recruit you again sometime.”
“We’ll see,” she replied, her tone teasing.
As Fred walked away, Y/N couldn’t help but smile to herself.
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nastyenemyeater · 6 hours
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Rockstar Choso 🫣👹🎸🥁- FANFIC
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I saw some tiktoks about Choso being a drummer and it gave me some ideas.
Here are the links :
SHOUT OUT TO NARUTOSS.RAMEN
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either way here's the plot : basically Y/n got cheated on by her bf at a club and she got revenge by kissing the drummer of 'The curses' rockstar band .
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“Look Y/n isn’t that Nathan?” asked your best friend, pointing at a guy during a hardcore kissing session with a random girl.
The blasting music, the heat in the club and the moving people passing by and occasionally shoving you to pave their way, were not helping you in any way digest the scene you just witnessed.
Your knees felt weak, your heartbeat increased considerably, memories flashed by, tears started overflowing and millions of questions exploded inside your head “why? Am I dreaming? Why did he cheat so easily? Did he even love me?”
“Go confront him Y/n! What are you waiting for? The fuck??” shouted your best friend, shaking you fervently and bringing you back to the hell.
You couldn’t. Or you thought it didn’t matter anymore.
“That motherfucker” you seethed in anger.
Alcohol was all you could think about. Yes, you needed to drink a shit ton of it. After all, you came to the club to enjoy your Saturday night. You didn’t plan on having your heart broken but … life never goes how you want it right?
You made your way to the bar, jaw clenched, eyes burning with anger and determined to drown the night’s misery in alcohol. The bartender handed you the strongest shot of vodka, and you backed at least five of them. Each one went down smoother than the last, but the pain refused to fade.
"Maybe I should just make out with the first guy that comes along," you thought bitterly, resting your head on your arms as you looked to your left.
Unexpectedly, a pair of dark, hazy eyes were already locked on you. He sat back against the bar, elbows resting casually behind him. His dark, messy hair clung to his sweaty forehead, framing his sharp features – a defined jawline, high cheekbones, and tired, yet piercing eyes that studied you intently. Tattoos snaked up his neck and down his muscular arms, accentuated by the sleeveless black shirt that clung to his broad frame. His legs were spread wide, exuding a quiet confidence and control.
Without thinking, you locked eyes with him, staring intently with no thoughts, just an empty, heated gaze. A faint smirk played on his lips as he stared back, silent but sharp, as if he was waiting for you to make the next move.
“Whatch’you lookin’ at?” he asked with an amused tone, breaking the silence between you two.
You didn’t have the strength to engage in any conversation yet, and all you could do was stare at him. Being in that inebriating state made easy for you to prolongate the eye contact.
He let out a low chuckle, stood from his seat and made his way toward you.
But before he could take another step, 2 other guys suddenly pulled him away, dragging him toward the other side of the bar. A chaotic stream of girls followed, screaming some names as they swarmed after them.
You watched as he winked at you before disappearing into the crowd. Despite the commotion, you remained rooted to your spot, an amused smile playing on your lips as you took in the scene.
“Wow, they must be somebody for them to get followed liked this” you wondered. You groaned loudly as you realized your mistake “Fuckkk ! I just blew my chance … fuck fuck fuck … Uh give me another one please” you said, asking for another shot to forget about this massive fail.
By now, the alcohol coursing through your veins made you feel more at ease, braver, and a little reckless. Confidence surged with every beat of the rock music that pounded through the club, filling your body with raw energy. The tension that had been building up inside you needed an outlet, and before you knew it, you found yourself weaving through the crowd toward the dance floor.
You moved with purpose, shaking off the accumulated stress with each step. The crowd was electric, and soon you managed to slip right to the front of the stage, where you spotted the two guys who had dragged your "new friend" away earlier. They were performing, and you finally recognized them as The Curses, a rockstar band.
You also spotted your "new friend" as their drummer. His name was Choso apparently.
The music reverberated through your body, each beat syncing with the rising tension inside, a strange mix of hurt, anger, and alcohol pushing you to the edge. By the time they finished their set, the adrenaline was pumping so hard it was like a shot of fire to your system.
Without thinking, you somehow climbed up on the stage. The crowd’s roar faded into the background as you grabbed the microphone, your voice raw with emotion as you shouted, “FUCK YOU NATHAN!”
The audience gasped, some laughing, some unsure what was happening, but you didn’t care. Your mind raced as you continued, “GO FUCK YOURSELF NATHAN! YOU DON’T DESERVE SHIT IN YOUR LIFE”
The two guys from the band rushed over, trying to calm you down, but most importantly trying to yank the mic out of your hands. One of them put a hand on your shoulder, but you jerked your arm away and continued, “YOU HEAR ME, NATHAN? YOU MANWHORE”
Someone grabbed your arm, pulling you slightly back as a voice whispered, "C’mon, miss, don’t embarrass yourself. Get down from the—"
But you cut them off, shouting, “DON’T TOUCH ME! I HAVE THE RIGHT TO SPEAK!” Your voice rang out, fierce and defiant. Then, you turned and realized it wasn’t a stranger—it was Choso. His intense, steady gaze met yours, silently pleading for you to calm down. For a moment, everything else faded, and it was just the two of you, his eyes trying to pull you back from the edge.
The noise and chaos seemed to fade into the background. Staring into his captivating eyes, you thought, It’s now or never. Your gaze flicked from his eyes to his plump lips, and without hesitation, you acted.
You dragged him down toward you, while rising up onto your tiptoes, and then you kissed him fervently, all the pent-up emotion pouring into that moment.
His pink-haired friend cackled into the mic, “You hear that, Nathan? You fucked up! Your girl’s gone now!”
“yeah you son a bitch! look at me eating up this guy’s mouth!” you thought, deepening the kiss.
You would be a total liar if you said that making out with Choso was just any other chore to get back at your ex.
No, no, no, no… that man was a beast. The second your lips touched his, he yanked your body against his, your breasts colliding with his large, hard chest.
Every inch of him was solid, muscle-packed beneath his shirt like he was carved from stone. His body radiated heat, and the faint sheen of sweat from his earlier performance mixed with the scent of his cologne—a powerful, intoxicating blend that made you want him even more. The mix was engulfing, dizzying, wrapping around you like a drug, making it impossible to pull away.
What started as a kiss turned into something deeper, more intense. His mouth was commanding, his lips moving over yours with a hunger that sent a shiver down your spine. His tongue was battling against yours, and all you could do was respond.
He was devouring the fuck out of you.
His hands slid down to your waist, his grip tightening as if he couldn’t bear to let you go. The feel of his body against yours – strong, immovable – made you crave more. Your fingers roamed up his shoulders, desperate to feel more of him, to get closer.
This wasn’t just some kiss to get back at Nathan. Choso’s kiss was raw, overwhelming, and consuming – everything you didn’t know you needed.
“Ok ok lovebirds! time’s up! you both can finish this later” suggested his sexy black-haired friend.
The crowd's reaction to your passionate kiss was a mix of emotions. Some voices rose in anger, hurling insults, while others cheered loudly, celebrating your bold move. The air buzzed with a clash of discontent and admiration. Some of them even started chanting “fuck you Nathan” in chorus.
But eventually, all good things must come to an end … and you had to shed yourself from Choso’s addictive body. You were both panting and staring at each other’s soul trying to figure out what just happened and what was going to happen afterwards.
“So ... do you make a habit of kissing random guys on stage?” he asked with a smirk, his eyes lingering on your face, taking in every detail.
“I … I have to go …” you stuttered, pushing him slowly away.
“Oh nah you can’t go now. There is no way I’ll let you leave after what you just did to me” he said, pulling you closer.
“I acted impulsively … I’m sorry … I need to go” you said, still trying to get out of his grip.
“Oh, so you’re just going to run back to Nathan?” he spat bitterly, holding you even harder.
You immediately frowned upon hearing his name again.
“Fuck you” you gritted, putting all your almighty force to push yourself away from him.
“That’s perfect, I have a 20-minute break anyway” he said, grinning. Before you could respond, his strong arms encircled your waist. In one swift, fluid motion, you were lifted off the ground. Panic surged as you were hoisted over his shoulder. It wasn’t a gentle lift; it was firm and unyielding.
“Guys, if you don’t mind, I have something to take care of” he informed his friends.
“Man, do whatch’ya gotta do, we lost you the minute she got on stage” said the black-haired guy.
You kicked and hit desperately, your fists pounding against his back. “Put me down!” you screamed, struggling against the grip holding you. “Let me go!”
“I don’t know about you, but I like to kiss a little before fucking. That being said, if you like it rough I can do that for you baby” he said, spanking you.
“The fuck??? did you just spank me?? how dare you??” you screamed at him, outraged.
“oh so we were literally dry-humping each other on stage 5 minutes ago but I can’t spank you now? That’s bullshit! You’re mine now!” he said, pushing an exit door.
When he finally set you down, the cold night air jolted you back to reality.
“Listen, I’m sorry, I didn’t think this through, ok? I just saw my boyfriend kissing a chick and I saw you as an opportunity to get revenge … I’m sorry please, just let me go” you pleaded.
He leaned in, slammed both of his hands on the wall, caging you with his body “So you’re telling me you didn’t enjoy our kissing session?” he asked faking a pout, but clearly amused.
“I didn’t say that” you shyly admitted, looking away.
“Then why are you running away?” he whispered in your ear, his lips now dangerously close to your neck.
“Please understand my situation here, I still have to deal with my feelings” you said, trying to get your neurons to work.
“I know for sure I can get him out of your head and give you new feelings to think about” he whispered against your neck.
“Look, I’m not trying to fuck … I told you I acted impulsively, I’m sorry” you asserted. Your mouth said no but your body craved this man with every alive and dead cell.
“Hey, as much as I love sex, I’m not going to fuck with you if you’re not willing. What I’d really like to do, though, is to get to know you better. So, what’s your name” he asked, his tilted curious face looking at you.
“I … uh … Y/n” you sighed. You knew there was no point in faking a name. You would have forgotten about it anyway.
“Y/n ... I can see myself moaning your name”
“Shut up. Choso.” you said, trying to hide your fluster.
“I definitely can see you moaning my name” he added, with a smirk.
You could see yourself doing that too. Just thinking about it, sent tingling signals to your pussy.
“Can I get another kiss before going back to stage?” he asked with a demanding look on his face. He looked so adorable, with his pleading eyes and his slightly parted lips. He held your chin up with his hand, forcing you to look up to him.
That bastard … He wasn’t playing fairly …
“if you keep looking at me like that I might have to bring you home, and keep you all for myself” he whispered again in your neck.
You couldn’t speak. You were unable to focus on not acting impulsively again and trying to formulate long sentences. Your brain was in a total meltdown.
“Just so you know, I still plan to get my revenge and kiss you first, and when I do, you’re not getting out alive” he added, gently kissing your neck.
Silence.
“Please ... say something, you’re driving me crazy” he whispered, desperation lingering on his voice.
His hands slid on your back, pulling you closer to him.
“Fuck … baby … please … don’t give me the silence treatment …” he whined, holding you harder.
“Ok …just one peck” you sighed, finally making a decision. You had surrendered to this man’s cravings.  
You got on your tippy toes and gave him a 4-second peck on his soft lips. But no light brush of lips or polite peck was enough for Choso. As soon as your lips touched again, he kissed you back with everything he had, hungry for so much more.
“Hey! C’mon man, we need you back on stage. Sex time’s over” interrupted pink-haired guy busting the exit door open.
“Fuck off man” Choso growled between kisses, as you both slowly came to a stop.
“I want to see you again baby. Gimme somethin’ more than your name” he asked, visibly frustrated.
“How about you look for me here next Saturday at your concert?” you suggested, smirking unknowingly, your hands roaming on his broad chest.
“And when I catch you,” he said with a grin, “you'll see the things I’m going to do to you.” he finished, with a hard squeeze of your ass.
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i hope you liked this story ❤️ don't hesitate to comment and reblog !
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cinnabunwanda · 1 day
Text
home alone - wanda maxamoff
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content warning —
pairing — Fem Reader X wanda maxamoff
summary — Stark and yn discuss Avengers mission plans and yn's feelings for Wanda. They share a passionate kiss, share a shower, and strip off, amusing each other's beauty.
word count —
⚠︎ disclaimer; this is 18+, so mdni. I will be keeping an aye out on everything but again I dont care if you read this and you are underage you are the only one responsible for reading shit you aren't supposed too.
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Stark sat across from me at the breakfast counter, loudly chewing his cereal. The sound grated on my nerves and I smacked my head against the smooth marble surface in frustration. "Why so loud?!" I groaned, rubbing my temples. Stark simply grinned at me, enjoying my annoyance. "Why so moody?" He chirped back in a mocking tone.
I rolled my eyes and took a sip of my coffee, trying to calm myself down. "You're going off on your Avengers mission, leaving me alone in your fancy Stark Tower!" I exclaimed, feeling a twinge of jealousy at his exciting adventures.
Stark's eyes widened in surprise before he chuckled. "Oh relax n/n," he said, using my nickname that only he and a select few were allowed to call me. "You won't be alone, Wanda will stay to keep you in check." He smirked, clearly amused by my outburst.
My cheeks flushed with embarrassment as I tried to hide my feelings for Wanda. "Why Wanda?" I whispered, hoping Stark wouldn't hear.
"Hell, everyone knows you've got the hots for her," Stark whispered back with a sly smile.
In retaliation, I used my magic to send him flying off his stool. "Don't make such assumptions," I scolded him. "She's a stunning lady lately, anyone would feel flustered in her presence."
Suddenly, Wanda's sweet voice sang out from the doorway. "Who's a stunning lady?" She asked innocently.
"Oh uh...Natasha?" Stark replied quickly, trying to cover up our conversation.
Wanda raised an eyebrow but didn't press any further. "Indeed," she said with a mischievous glint in her eye. "She's a lovely woman y/n," she winked at me before opening the fridge to grab a snack.
I nearly choked on my drink at her words, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks once again. Stark seemed to find this all very amusing and laughed as he left.
Wanda turned back to me with a smile. "Oh Stark, Captain America said you have 5 minutes tops to meet him at the helipad," she informed me.
"Yes ma'am," Stark replied, smirking at me as he left.
"So...n/n, how are we going to spend our time?" Wanda asked, her tone playful and flirtatious.
I shrugged, trying not to let my thoughts wander too much. "I don't know, any ideas?"
"A few," she laughed seductively.
My heart skipped a beat and I couldn't help but feel drawn to her. "Like what?" I asked nervously.
"Oh, I don't wish to vocalize them," she smirked, leaning closer to me.
Before I could respond, she silenced me with a kiss. Her lips were soft and warm against mine and I couldn't resist kissing her back passionately. She straddled my hips and ran her fingers through my hair as we lost ourselves in the moment.
"How long will the Avengers be away?" She whispered breathlessly as we pulled apart for air.
"Until tomorrow evening," I stuttered out, still trying to catch my breath from our intense make-out session.
"Perfect," she purred before taking my hand and leading me through the halls of Stark Tower towards her room.
As soon as the door closed behind us, her back was against it and her lips were on mine again. We shared another heated kiss before she stepped back with a mischievous grin. "I'll run us a shower, strip off," she commanded playfully, swaying her hips as she disappeared into the bathroom.
I quickly followed suit, stripping down to nothing under the warm water of the shower. Wanda joined me shortly after, her toned and slender figure glistening under the water. I couldn't help but admire her beauty as she stood in front of me, water cascading down her body.
"Id love to stare all day, but I'd much rather join you," I smirked before pulling her into a passionate kiss. Our bodies pressed against each other, our kisses deep and full of desire. Her hands roamed my body, gripping at my hips and ass as we moved together in the shower.
I lifted one of my legs to wrap around her thigh, deepening our connection as we continued to explore each other's bodies with our lips and hands. This woman was going to be the end of me, I thought to myself as we lost ourselves in the pleasure of the moment. As if reading my mind, Wanda pulled back from our kiss and whispered breathlessly, "I can still hear your thoughts n/n."
"Sorry darling," I laughed, my voice filled with desire as I trailed kisses down her neck. "You forget, I can read minds too."
With her back turned to me, she pressed her breasts against the cool surface of the open shower glass. I ran my hands over them tenderly, giving them a soft slap before pressing myself flush against her firm ass. The sensation of my clit rubbing against her smooth skin was mesmerizing, and she moaned as I thrust my hips harder into her.
She rubbed at her own clit, adding to the pleasure that coursed through me. Her teasing lips slowly made their way towards my heated core, sending shivers down my spine. As she traced circles around my clit with her tongue, pure euphoria washed over me. Her small hesitations only added to the intense build-up of pleasure, and when she slipped a finger inside of me, I couldn't hold back any longer.
She was perfection incarnate. But when I voiced this thought, she chuckled and said "Stop reading my mind, love," before kissing my neck.
Clearly done with foreplay, she turned to face me with hunger in her eyes. Slowly dropping to her knees, my breath caught in my throat.
Her delicate fingers curled inside of me, while her soft lips worked wonders on my sensitive clit. The combination was too much to handle and I reached my peak almost instantly.
After catching our breaths, I pushed her back against the wall and hungrily sucked on her breasts. She growled in pleasure and kneaded my hips as I pressed myself further into her.
Lifting one of her legs onto my shoulder for better access, I explored every inch of her heat with fervor. Our bodies were a perfect fit, and as our clits rubbed together at an increasingly faster pace, I realized just how beautiful she truly was.
I leaned in to moan into her neck as she bucked her hips into mine, finally reaching our shared climax
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letsgetrowdy43 · 2 days
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lowkey feeling some angst (said me never) like maybe nico gets hurt really hurt on the ice (like doesn’t get up for a while) and it was after an argument him and angie had when the team still didn’t know they were official. and angie goes crazy and has to be held back by someone (jesper?). idk just an idea!
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Omg yes!! It could have happened at the end of last season, and both of them are trying to make it to the end of the year after an injury-riddled season (2023-24 was rough for them).
Despite the seasons setbacks, Angie had begged Coach Green to let them play on the same line for just one game before the end of the year. After all, their off-ice chemistry was undeniable, so why not see if it translated onto the ice? Green had reluctantly agreed, but it felt like the world had other plans that night as they were no longer in play off contention so really it felt like wasted games.
Their pregame had been thrown off after a slight argument that Nico had started after bringing up their summer plans, hinting that he wanted to be invited to the lake house. Angie still a little on the fence about inviting him to the lake house and finally telling boys that they are, in fact, together. Nico felt like she was purposely sabotaging their relationship and Angie, flustered by her own fear of taking that next step, snapped at him.
Soooo they hadn’t fully made up before the game, and now, the tension lingered into their dynamic on the ice, which caused Green to separate them onto two different lines after playing a shitty first period together.
Then came the second period.
Everything had led up to the slightly dramatic, but also very traumatic moment where Nico had the puck when someone blindsided him with a hit that flipped him around and slammed him against the ice. It wasn’t just a routine fall—this was different, even the crowd could feel it as they gasped while Nico crumpled to the ice, unmoving.
For a moment, Angie was frozen on the bench, her brain struggling to process what she was seeing as he gaze flipped from Nico to Green who was now motioning fo rthe medics to get on the ice.
But then the panic hit as she dropped her gloves and stick on the ground.
She was halfway off the bench before she even realized what she was doing, her skates hitting the ice as she made a beeline for Nico. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. The argument from earlier swirled in her head—how stupid she had been.
Really, her motives could be summed up as her being the only Alternate captain actually playing in the game (Jack was out for the rest of the szn at this point), but to a few guys on the team, these moves were a lot less calculated then the normal angie reaction.
Jesper Bratt grabbed her arm, pulling her back before she could get too close to the scene in front of them. "Angie, wait—let the medics handle it!" "I should be there," she said firmly, trying to pull free from Jesper’s grip, her voice breaking as she watched his expressions often, almost like he clued in a little that stronger emotions were floating around, "I need to—" "Let them do their job!" Jesper’s voice was firmer than she had ever heard before but still had that gentle tone to it. Angie struggled against him, but he held her back as the medics rushed onto the ice.
"Go talk to the Refs, okay, we still need a leader," he motioned towards the guys in tripes who were rewatching the tapes over and over again to decipher whether the hit was legal or not.
Her heart was pounding, every second feeling like an eternity as her eyes flipped between him and the refs, who weren't even attempting to speak to her, as she demanded some sort of penalty for their captain being knocked unconscious.
Nico still wasn’t moving, and with every few seconds she felt herslef going crazy.
Angry tears pricked at the corners of her eyes as the refs yelled at her, and she yelled back, her throat tightened with frustration at the turn of events, and before she knew it, she was ejected from the game and down the tunnel, following Nico close by.
But as she left the ice, she could definitely tell that the team could read the tobe change that had overtaken the captain and alternate captain and that whatever going on was at a deeper emotional level than they could ever understand.
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Idk if that's what you were envisioning, but I can def see her going either completely batshit or like so overcome with emotions that she's not sure what to do other than get mad and cry (average girl experience)
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hunnysahara · 2 days
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⊱✿ 𝕋𝕙𝕖 ℕ𝕒𝕞𝕖 𝔾𝕒𝕞𝕖 ✿⊰
Hamzah x reader imagine
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In which you and Hamzah adopt two cats.
Requested by this ask!
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"We are not calling them Red and Blue," You state firmly. You stand in the kitchen, watching the tabby stretch out on the windowsill, already looking like she owns the place. The white-faced cat, meanwhile, is still exploring every nook and cranny, pausing occasionally to swat at one of the crinkly toys scattered around. Hamzah stands beside you, hands on his hips, looking rather proud of himself though his face is quick to drop at your words.
"What, why?" Hamzah sounded almost offended, his eyebrows drawing together. 
"Erm, they're orange?" You gesture to the cats skeptically exploring.
Hamzah shrugs, undeterred. "Exactly! It's ironic, which makes it cool," he argues, his grin widening. "Like, who'd expect an orange cat to be named Blue? It's clever."
You shake your head, holding back a laugh. "We can do better than blue and red."
"Then what would you name them?" He says, pointedly.
"Like Mango and Pumpkin," You're unsure of the answer yourself but anything seems better than the names he's picked.
"Dude."
"What?"
"Mango and Pumpkin? You know how many orange cats are named that?" He shakes his head.
Your eyebrows furrow, "Not a lot, I'd think."
"C'mon, we're parents now, we gotta be on the same page. Who is naming their cats Red and Blue?" He tries to reason, settling into a firm tone like he's trying to win a debate.
"No one and for good reason." You are quick to answer. 
He raises his hands in exasperation "But look! It's perfect, it fits them so well."
You watch the cats scamper across the living room, tails high and paws tapping eagerly against the hardwood, clearly not seeing what your boyfriend sees. "How?" 
"Okay, because-" He pauses abruptly, this is his attempt to coherently gather his thoughts. Hamzah gestures at the scrawny orange tabby "Red because he's all fired up and badass and stuff." 
You raise an eyebrow, looking at one of the cats now casually rolling on his back in the middle of the living room. "Yeah, because nothing screams 'badass' like a cat belly-up, begging for scratches."
"Hey, don't make fun of him," Hamzah says, tone serious as ever. "This is Red we're talking about. He's just lulling you into a false sense of security."
You can't help but smile, shaking your head. "Okay, okay, so what's the other one's deal then? Why is she Blue?"
He glances at the other cat, who's now swatting at a toy mouse with laser focus. "He's contemplative, you know? Like, deep. He's got that mysterious, brooding vibe. Like Edward Cullen."
You stare at him, both amused and skeptical. "Like Edward Cullen? He's a kitten, Hamzah."
"What's better than Red and Blue?"
"Brutus and Ceaser," You shrug. 
Hamzah pauses for a moment, looking at you "That's good," He shrugs, grinning once again. Your idea is shaken from his head in a matter of seconds, Hamzah's already made up his mind. "Doesn't matter. Look at him, planning her next move like some sort of mastermind. He's Blue."
You huff, trying to look unimpressed, but his enthusiasm is starting to chip away at your resolve. "Alright, you win. Red and Blue it is," you concede, throwing up your hands. "But we're going to get weird looks when people ask us why we named them that. I'm telling you now, the next pet we get is going to have a normal name, and you're not allowed to argue."
He gasps in mock offence, placing a hand dramatically over his heart. Beneath the satire, you can tell he's ecstatic, near biting back a smile. "Normal? Are you saying my ideas aren't normal?"
"Nope, nothing you do is normal."
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The crazy Sacrilege fan here ! I LOVE THAT DRABBLE MIKASA IS SUCH AN UNHINGED FREAK I ADORE HER THANK YOU LYS THANK YOU !!! And Eren cares about her , « might even love her, just a little » LMFAO MR COP IS SO BUSTED !! If I may ask, how do you think they would react to a pregnancy scare ? I think crazy ass Mika might even like it, think it’s the Lord’s Will for them to be with child . Eren is head over heels for his little gf so he woudn’t mind giving her a child but he doesn’t want her to regret it later, she needs to go to college and start a career first!
AHAHAHA OMG ILY !!!! 💗💗 ur so funny lol!!! THEY'RE BOTH UNHINGED THO AND THAT'S WHAT WE LOVE THEM FOR, THE ABSOLUTE FUCKING CHAOS !!!!
omg okay, i can totally see this going like both ways, mostly bc I'm so anti religion bc of how much fucking shit it can create. So me, being a little shit, i'd love to go against the grain here and have Mikasa just be pRO CHOICE GIRLY !! Altho I do think she'd be like a little thrilled to have a child with Eren lol. LETS WRITE IT AND SEE WHAT HAPPENS!! bro tell me why they're so cute tho i like this drabble lol
Mikasa stares at the pregnancy test blankly, head knocked back against the bathroom cabinet of Eren’s apartment. Two little red lines to seal her fate, she should be thrilled.  
She isn’t. 
Contrary to her mother and every other girl in her church, Mikasa feels nothing but dread, cold, inescapable dread and suffocation. Because yes, a baby is cute, a baby is sweet, a baby would be the perfect embodiment of her and Eren’s love. They’d be the picture perfect happy family, the one people see on instagram, and she could be a stay at home mom and do all that ridiculous mom-fluencer stuff she sees.
The entire idea makes Mikasa want to throw up, and she’s not so sure it’s the pregnancy, because she isn’t that far along at all yet. 
She slumps, dropping the test to the floor beside her and blinking back stubborn tears, she wonders if this is God’s plan. Because surely, it must be? She wouldn’t be pregnant if it wasn’t His will. Hell, she’s already gone against the church by using birth control, condoms and the pill. 
So there’s really no other way she could have possibly gotten pregnant, right? Nothing else other than pure divine intervention would have allowed this. 
Mikasa sniffles meekly, a tear sleeping down her cheek despite her attempts not to cry and she wipes it away with her sleeve. Drawing her knees up to her chest, she crumples in on herself because what the fuck is she going to do? She’s not married, not yet at least, not in school yet –will probably have to drop out now actually– and her parents will most certainly withdraw what little support they were willing to provide her. She can hear it now, they’re going to call her sweet little baby a bastard, the church will gossip, her youth group will turn on her, and the pastor will look at her with eyes full of disgust at every turn. The tears flow faster now, slipping down her cheeks freely, and before she realizes it, she’s sobbing alone in Eren’s apartment bathroom, utterly alone. 
And there’s that too, isn’t there, how Eren will react. She doesn’t know, doesn’t want to lose him, but what if it’s too soon? Eren isn’t that old, only 24 and still working his way up in the force, he probably doesn’t want a baby yet either. 
He’s certainly never talked about it, and it has Mikasa tearing up all over again, because she’s going to lose him, and her parents again all at once. And she can’t lose him, she just can’t, she loves him. What had started as pure angsty rebellion had turned into love so quickly she doesn’t even know when it started. But he’s so supportive, hot, and so fucking good for her if she thinks about it, had told her just to fucking move in when her parents had gotten fussy over their break-up. He’d shrugged like it was no big deal, “Don’t worry about rent, Mika, just as long as you sleep in my bed.” Then, he’d left for work with a wink, and Mikasa for the first time in her life had real fucking independence, the very thing she’d been yearning for, begging for when he’d fucked her on that alter. 
And now here she is, about to lose it all again, her shackles renewed by the responsibility of a child and all the pressures that come with being a mom before she’s financially ready or responsible in the slightest. 
There is a click outside and Mikasa inhales sharply, glancing at her watch, because how long has she been in this bathroom moping? It’s 9:00 am on the dot, Eren is home, having just gotten off an overnight shift, and she can already hear him stomping around, seeking her out. “Mikasa,” He calls, and she slaps a hand over her mouth to keep quiet, for what she doesn’t know, he’ll find her eventually. “Baby where are you, I can see your shoes by the door, come out.” She doesn’t, fear paralyzes her, this agony of what to do, to tell him, not to tell him, to just run away and give it up for adoption, show up again in nine months and hope he doesn’t hate her. But Eren is a cop, surely he’d find her no matter where she went? And he does, just like he’d find her if she ran away, sweeping the apartment methodically before coming to the bathroom door, just off his bedroom. 
He knocks, “Miki, what are you doing?” She doesn’t answer, just grabs the pregnancy test, holds it closer as the two positive red lines blur together, tears flowing freely again. It takes Eren one attempt, one fucking shot to jimmy the lock open, and he’s leaning against the door frame like an avenging angel as he looks her over. He’s terrifying, clad in his police uniform, black cargo pants with so many pockets and that tight long sleeve shirt that goes under his body armour. 
He quirks a brow up at her as he notices her tears, eyes scanning her over, and she can pinpoint the exact moment he notices the pregnancy test, his teeth coming down to bite into his lip, his only nervous tic. “So,” He asks casually, “Pregnant?” She nods meekly, a sob working its way up her throat, all she can think to do is apologize, because obviously it’s her fault, “I’m so sorry Eren.” 
She should have never slept with him, never disobeyed God like this, it’s her punishment, and she just spirals, ugly crying in her boyfriend’s bathroom at 8 am on a wednesday. “Oh Miki no, it takes two, okay,” Eren half laughs as he kneels down next to her, tucking a strand of hair out of her eyes. He wipes the tears from her cheeks with his thumbs, cupping her face with more love and affection than she’s ever known in her life, “It was definitely more me if I recall correctly, in the back of my squad car, in the kitchen,” He smirks, looking down at her, “Yesterday morning in the shower.” Mikasa smacks him for that, choking out a laugh, “Stop it, I’m sad right now.” Eren chuckles, sitting down next to her and grabbing her hand with the pregnancy test to look at it himself. “You don’t have to be sad Miki, it doesn’t have to be a big thing you know.” 
She leans into him, her head on his shoulder as she thinks about it, “Eren I’m gonna get huge and fat, it’s definitely gonna be a thing and people are definitely going to notice.” He bumps her with his shoulder lightly, “Nah you’d be cute pregnant, and fuck,” He groans as if he’s thinking about it, “Your tits would definitely get even better.” Mikasa gasps, smacking his arm again, and before she can stop him he’s going in for a squeeze that has her yelping because yeah, she’s already a little more sensitive. He smirks, more smug than he has any right to be in this situation, ten minutes ago she was crying her eyes out. 
“So does this mean you want it, then, that you’ll support me?” Mikasa asks hopefully and Eren squeezes her thigh, looking down at her with more intensity than she knew him capable of, “Mikasa of course I’ll support you in whatever you decide to do, this would be my kid too.” He pauses and Mikasa waits, looking up at him earnestly, ready to accept whatever else he has to say, because he’s Eren and he so obviously loves her. “I know it’s a little taboo in the church community, but have you thought about getting an abortion?” Mikasa cracks, heaving out a great sob, and before she knows it she’s in Eren’s lap with him shushing her as she whispers all her fears into his neck, “You don’t want it, you’re lying you just- you just want to appease me and –” “Mikasa,” Eren kisses his way up her neck, voice right at her ear, “I’m not lying, but look at me.” He cups her chin roughly, tilting her head up so she’s forced to look into those pretty green eyes, “Baby you’re in school, you haven’t even started yet, and I’ve heard you, fuck baby I’ve heard you talk about school so many times and how much you want to be a nurse.” He leans down, so their foreheads touch, and he leans into her, “And as much as I’d love to see you pregnant, how fucking pretty you’d be, cute as hell waddling around my house knocked up with my fucking kid, it would also suck a lot because I know Mikasa that you’d be miserable, would be delaying your dreams for several years at the very fucking least and I could never ask you to do that.” Mikasa inhales shakily, relaxing into him now, the hand on her thigh, the other at the nape of her neck, how warm and solid he is against her, Eren. 
She tilts her head up for a kiss, something soft, chaste, comfort. 
He kisses her softly, all gentle affection, his hand rubbing over her thigh to keep her calm and when she pulls back she’s calmer, more stable in his arms. 
“Is it allowed?” She whispers, almost nervously, afraid she’ll be shot down by the universe at the mere suggestion. Eren laughs, his hand drifting up to her hip to tug her closer in his lap, “Of course it’s allowed Mikasa, no one has to know we have free health care you know, we’ll just you know, schedule you an appointment, I don’t think it’s that hard.” “Really?” she mumbles, “Just like that?” “I think so, I mean obviously I haven’t had one, but I don’t think it’ll be that difficult, we can call in a minute.”
“Okay,” she mumbles and Eren kisses her again, nipping her cheek as he demands her attention, “But I want to know you’re doing it for you, not because of me or anything else, this has to be your decision Mikasa and I’m just along for the ride.” She sighs, “I think you’re right, I just didn’t want to be the one to say it, but before you got here all I could think about was how much it was going to fuck up my life.” Eren gasps, and she looks up, suddenly afraid, does he think she’s disgusting, a worthless human being because of it? His eyes are alight with amusement, “You swore, what a naughty little church girl you are.” 
She smacks him and violently, which has him cackling, and he uses his leverage to go in for another kiss, which she accepts gratefully. “As long as it’s your decision Mikasa, I don’t care, hell I kind of agree, I’m not sure if I’d be a great dad right now, I’m too selfish. I wanna keep you to myself for as long as I can.” Mikasa laughs, “Then maybe we’d better start using better protection.” “Yeah, we’re also scheduling you for an IUD appointment, because fuck are you bad at taking those pills.” She winces, “I took it this morning.” Eren looks at her in disbelief, “Miki you’re already pregnant.” “Well, I tried not to be,” She tells him poutily and Eren pinches her waist, “You did a shit job.” “We just agreed it was your fault!” 
Eren smiles deviously, “Yeah it is, and it’s about to be my fault again.” 
He yanks her down against him, a devilish gleam in his eyes, and she can feel his very obvious erection right against the soft of her cunt, separated only by the thin layer of her pyjama pants. 
“Have you been hard the entire time?” “I’m not a monster, just since you swore, it just does things to me, it’s not my fault, really it’s yours.” “Oh my God,” Mikasa groans, and she can feel Eren below her, grinding her down against his cock, that guilty look on his face, “Holy fuck does it turn you on when I’m like bad?” “Is that blasphemous of me?” 
“God yes,” She tells him and then she’s kissing him, because no one else but Eren Yeager has ever made being bad feel so good.
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