#overdrive chapter 1
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nitaekook · 24 days ago
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Overdrive
by nitaekook | 1/? | NR | 3,186
Iwaizumi Hajime, a former MotoGP racer, struggles with life after a career-ending accident. Isolated and restless, he’s invited by Bokuto to an underground street race, where he unexpectedly encounters Oikawa Tooru. Watching Oikawa dominate the race with a custom-built car, Iwaizumi is impressed by his skill and drive. The thrill of the event stirs something in Iwaizumi, and though he tries to push it away, he can’t shake the pull of the racing world he thought he’d left behind.
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Coming Soon 💕
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syrupyyyart · 2 years ago
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cherrys
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valiantvillain · 5 months ago
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Not gonna lie, I can't wait to play the full game and then write an entire essay in my head on the symbolism of destroying Bianca.
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thelostconsultant · 2 months ago
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Instant dad - pilot
pairing: Oscar Piastri x ex!reader
summary: You have no choice but to tell Oscar he has a five years old son. Now he wants to be a part of his life to make things complicated...
note: A little warmup chapter. Oscar is in his early 30s, so yeah, there's a time jump.
[part 1]
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“We would like to meet Oliver’s father. His biological father,” the principal clarified as he glanced over at your boyfriend. You’d been together for three years, he had been by your five-year-old’s side for over half his life, why wasn’t he enough?
But he insisted on meeting him, saying if he was dead and you could prove it, or if your boyfriend was your husband, they would move on with the enrollment, but you had confirmed that you weren’t married and the biological father was alive, so now they wanted to have a chat with him. He didn’t even care about the tiny little detail that said father had absolutely no idea he had a child. What a bunch of morons.
In the evening, while your son was reading a book about cars in his bed with your boyfriend, you sat by the dining table with your phone in hand, trying to figure out what to do. This fancy private school was perfect, they knew how to handle intelligent kids like Oliver, and you wanted the best for him. You wanted to make sure he didn’t get bored, that he would get the kind of intellectual challenge in school that he needed.
At the age of five, he could read on his own just fine, he even learned some Spanish from your boyfriend, and he was a quick study in general. It was infuriating how he was a mini version of his father, from his intelligence to his looks, everything reminded you of him. And if you met F1 fans together, someone surely went, “He looks so much like Piastri at his age!” Sadly, that wasn’t a coincidence, and the poor kid picked up on the whole you-look-like-him thing and chose him as his favorite driver.
Sometimes you consider telling him. Oliver, not Oscar. God, there was no way you would ever tell him the truth. He had his own, certainly busy life and he probably didn’t need a child in it. Yes, you saw the photos, he was good with kids, but meeting one for a few minutes wasn’t the same as having your own. Your son on the other hand could find out when he got old enough to understand why you had left and went no contact with his father. That was over ten years away, of course, so you had time to figure out what to do. Until then, you made sure the few photos of you and Oscar were stored somewhere safe in case he wanted to see them when the time came.
Now you were cornered, your hand forced by that damn principal. You had no idea if he was still using that old social media profile of his, but you had to try. So, you took a deep breath and started a call, deep down hoping he wouldn’t answer. You weren’t ready to talk to him, not yet, but you had no choice. And then his face showed up on your screen, the sight bringing back memories you’d been trying to forget for years.
“Hey. Are you sure it’s me you wanted to call?” he asked, although there was a hint of a smile on his lips.
Nodding, you let out a sigh. “Hi. Yeah, um… I don’t even know where to start.”
“At the beginning?”
Silence followed his words, your brain in overdrive as it tried to find the best way to start. But maybe being straightforward was the right answer. “I have a son. He’s five,” you added, hoping the meaningful look you were sending his way could be seen over the screen.
After a few seconds of heavy silence, you could see the wheels turning in his head as he did some math. “Wait, five? We… That was a bit over five years ago. Could he…?”
“Yeah,” you confirmed. “He’s your son.”
His face was emotionless for a while as he tried to process the news, but this was nothing new, he was the king of hiding emotions. But then, just as you thought he would end the call, he let out a sigh. “Why now? What do you want from me? Money?” he asked, although you could tell he was unsure about this whole situation.
The fact he assumed you wanted money only made you angry. “It’s not your money I need. Hell, I don’t even want you to meet him,” you snapped. “The thing is, there’s this private school I want to send him to, and they have this stupid rule to have both parents present at a parental interview. Since my boyfriend and I never got married, they want to see the biological father. That’s all I want. A meeting with the principal.”
Oscar put up a finger as he bit on his lower lip, his eyes focusing on something behind his phone’s camera. “Let me get this straight. After all these years, you say I have a son, but I’m not allowed to meet him?” he then asked, looking back at you.
“Yeah.”
“One meeting,” he then stated, his voice serious. “You let me meet him once and I’ll talk to that principal.”
“Oscar, come on.”
“That’s the deal I can offer.”
You didn’t have a choice, you knew that. If he didn’t do it for Oliver, he would have to go to another school. Letting out a sigh of defeat, you nodded. “But we don’t tell him that you’re his father. He watches F1, and since he looks a lot like you, he decided that you’re his favorite driver. That’s all you’re gonna be, nothing more.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know, I,” Oscar began hesitantly, and you could see as he sat down on his couch and looked up at the ceiling. “You just told me I had a son. What do you want from me, to forget it? I want to meet him. I want him to know who I am.”
“He’s five. If he finds out, he’ll want to see you again. He will want you to be a part of his life. I don’t want that.”
You could see he was uncertain about this. He probably understood that becoming his father would mean he would have to regularly visit the two of you, and even if you all kept it a secret, there was still the risk of the truth slipping out and making it into the headlines. “Is he anything like me?” he suddenly asked, his eyes softening as he watched you. 
A smile crept on your lips as you thought about this, because it was so painfully obvious to you that you couldn’t deny it, no matter how badly you wanted to do that. “He’s a highly intelligent little smartass, just like you. And his looks… A mini you, no doubt.”
Oscar nodded. “Then I want to be a part of his life. Let me spend time with him,” he asked, seeming relaxed. 
“Two hours.”
“No, I’ll stay for a week, and I want to see him every day,” he was quick to clarify. “I can look out for him while you’re at work.”
Whatever happened to the idea of meeting Oliver once? That’s not what you had just discussed, and now he was changing his demands? “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” was all you said in the end.
“You said it yourself, I’m his favorite driver,” he pointed out with a smug smile. “We’ll be fine.”
You were doing this only because of the school. You remembered what Oscar could be like; if he made up his mind about something, he definitely wasn’t about to let his plan go. Now he wanted a week with his son, and you knew that was the only way he would do what you needed from him. “All right. Can I send you the school’s number so you can make an appointment? I told them you travel a lot, so they’ll need to be flexible.”
“Sure, I’ll call them as soon as I can.” You thanked him, and were just about to say goodbye when he spoke up again. “Wait, can you send me a photo or a video?”
“Yeah, I have a few hundred of those,” you replied with a smile.
Oscar remained silent, but he let out a sigh and you knew something was on his mind, something he wanted to tell you. “I still have a hard time believing it, you know.”
“You seemed pretty confident when it came to getting to know him.”
“I wanted to use my chance to corner you,” he admitted. “But this? That I have a son? Hard to believe.”
“Well, he’s yours. You’ll understand it when you meet him,” you told him kindly. 
After you said goodbye, you went up to check on Oliver and your boyfriend, but by the time you got there, they were sleeping soundly with the open book resting on your son’s chest. With a smile, you took the book and leaned down to give both of them a soft kiss. You couldn’t help but wonder how your little family’s dynamics would change with Oscar’s presence. 
Well, it wasn’t really your son you were worried about, the main issue was your boyfriend. Oscar was a famous F1 driver, someone your son idolized, of course he felt threatened. You told him it would be okay, that you didn’t have feelings for him anymore, but he didn’t seem convinced. Maybe if they met and he saw you were indifferent, he would finally trust you a lot more. One can hope, right?
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kesujo · 2 months ago
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Chapter 5: Miss Pet - Part 1
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Previous chapter here.
“Oh, he’s coming to.”
Taeyeon’s voice was the first thing Seojun heard when he came to.
“Seojun?” So loud was the second voice that Seojun instinctively recoiled. “I’m so, so sorry!”
“Quiet down, Fany.”
“Oh!” Her voice came out as a hushed whisper, or at least that seemed to be the intention because the volume of Tiffany’s voice was more or less the ‘normal’ of Taeyeon. Seojun found himself smiling at the well-meaning gesture. “Sorry!”
“It’s OK,” he said, his voice coming out a little croakier than he would’ve liked.
“You’ve been out for over half the day; how are you feeling?” Taeyeon’s gentle, motherly voice was like a soothing wave of healing that washed through him.
“Really? Over half a day? I mean, not that bad honestly. Still a little bit fatigued, I think.”
“If you don’t mind, I can help with that,” Tiffany offered, cautiously putting one knee on the bed he was sitting on.
“Uh…”
Hearing the hesitation in his voice, Tiffany quickly added, “It wasn’t my Trait’s fault, it was mine! We were supposed to take occasional breaks but I was so engrossed that it completely slipped my mind. But what my Trait does is remove all feelings of fatigue and strengthens a body’s resistance to it. I promise it’ll help!”
Seeing Tiffany panic at the hesitation in his voice and interpreting it as a mistrust in her gave Seojun an injection of guilt. “Oh, no, sorry I wasn’t saying that because I didn’t trust you, I just … my brain was being a little slow since I just woke up.”
“…Oh.” Taeyeon laughed at the relieved demoness, a smile breaking out on Seojun’s face as well. “So, is that a yes?”
“So does that mean…” implying it still felt a bit rude despite the ease at which succubae seemed to address sex and related activities.
“You don’t mind kissing me, do you?”
“Oh, no, I don’t!”
Tiffany giggled at the perhaps over enthused response from Seojun, climbing fully onto the bed, her soft hands snaking around to the back of his head while her face neared his. And although he had just spent many hours fucking her, seeing Tiffany’s face come up to close to his caused his heart to race, the actual sensation of her soft, velvety lips on his causing the organ in his chest to go into overdrive. Seojun could swear he could hear every individual heartbeat as Tiffany’s tongue teased open his lips, a few seconds later a warm, slightly viscous liquid being passed into his mouth.
Feeling the foreign substance in his mouth felt simultaneously strange and arousing; he felt his dick twitch in response, his entire body shivering slightly as he felt the fluid travel down his throat after Tiffany pulled away.
His reaction to the transfer of bodily fluids aside, its effects were instantaneous. He could immediately feel the weariness in his muscles evaporate, replaced with the same vigor as during their sex binge hours before. “So?”
“Yeah—wow, I definitely feel better, thanks.”
“I think you can do better to demonstrate your gratitude.” It was Taeyeon who brought the proposition up to Tiffany, whose ears perked with interest. She turned towards the smaller succubus, eagerness in her eyes. “I can’t imagine it felt very pleasant to spontaneously fall unconscious like that.”
Seojun, however, was completely oblivious to the suggestive nature of the proposition, instead jumping in hastily, “Oh, no! It’s OK, I’m fine!”
“But don’t you think Tiffany should compensate you for your toils?” Seeing Taeyeon’s fingers curl around the straps of her skimpy top and pulling them down allowed Seojun to hear the suggestiveness in Taeyeon’s voice.
“Oh…” The semi-mortal man felt dumb for replying like that, but he couldn’t bring himself to agree. After all, Taeyeon and Tiffany were much older than him, and his Korean upbringing couldn’t help but feel hesitant demanding something from his elders.
“If you’re willing to settle for me, I’ll happily do anything you ask of me!” Tiffany’s eager reply partially blew away the hesitation Seojun was feeling, the rest evaporating with Taeyeon’s next few words.
“Also, I want to help demonstrate that sex with Tiffany isn’t always like that. Especially if you’re to bond with her, I want you to understand that, done properly, is just as great as it was yesterday without the negative side-effects following.”
“Oh, you’re so considerate! Thank you, Mistress!”
“Make sure to also thank Seojun for giving you the chance to redeem yourself.”
Tiffany turned around, bowing deeply. Seojun gulped, his eyes darting to the eyeful of her tits he captured, her nipples nearly visible from how loosely the top was hanging onto her ample chest. “Thank you so much, Master!”
Seojun wasn’t exactly sure when Tiffany and Taeyeon decided to slip into the roleplay or how they even decided it amongst themselves. However, now that it was happening, Seojun felt obliged to take part. He reached out to stroke her hair, a more content kind of pleasure coursing through his body at the immensely pleasing sensation of running his hand through what felt like a cloud. “You’re such a good girl, Tiffany.”
Tiffany nuzzled her cheek against his hand, another warm surge of joy surging through his body. Seojun had his fair share of experiences with cute pet behaviors, and Tiffany definitely matched if not exceeded that level of adorableness. Seojun could hear Taeyeon chuckling in the background, Tiffany enjoying Seojun’s hand for a few more seconds before the prey-turned-master retracted it. Tiffany opened her eyes and looked at him, a clear and unadulterated excitement in her eyes. “Thank you so much Master! I don’t deserve your kind words!” Seojun understood that they were doing roleplay … but was she really acting, or were these her genuine feelings?
“Before we start, you should feed more from Tiffany. Saliva definitely won’t suffice. So while you’re offering your pussy to Seojun, I’ll be using mine to warm up his dick.”
“I—” the jealousy was clear in her eyes, but she ended up swallowing the protest clearly visible in her pouty expression, and conceded. “I understand.”
“Are you OK with that, Seojun?”
The one thing that Seojun was unclear about was what his relationship to Taeyeon was, but her gentle inquiry confirmed that they were of equal status in this ‘scenario’. “Of course, Taeyeon.”
Taeyeon crawled onto the bed as well, Tiffany shuffling forward and taking his shirt along with her. Seojun aided her, the cloth coming over his head while Taeyeon’s hands wrapped around the rim of his pants and boxers, pulling them off in one swift motion.
Out sprung his semi-erect dick, precum splashing onto the plush surface of Tiffany’s slowly moving bottom. Her tail immediately sprang into action, collecting it and spooning it directly into her mouth. “Mmm, god, even Master’s precum is delicious…” her deep, sensual moan made him harder, the stiffening rod captured by the dainty yet firm grip of Taeyeon’s fingers.
“You’ll get plenty later if you continue being a good girl. OK?”
Tiffany nodded excitedly, slipping off both her bottom and the undergarments before turning around, presenting her delectable bubble butt to Seojun. Her hands reached around as his vision gradually filled with the delightful view of the excitable succubus’s ass nearing his face, her hands pulling the plump cheeks apart to reveal a pair of damp vaginal lips. “Master, are you ready?”
“I am.”
The confirmation was all Tiffany needed to back up the rest of the way, Seojun meeting her wet pussy lips with his own lips. Immediately, he could hear a soft sigh, her legs body shaking against his torso. As his hands took the job of keeping her tight, plump butt cheeks separated, Taeyeon transitioned from a firm handjob to shifting her own womanhood, radiating with heat, over his erect cock.
“Mistress…” Tiffany moaned, Seojun’s muted moan joining hers and Taeyeon’s as she penetrated herself with his cock.
“Be a good girl, Tiffany,” Taeyeon’s strained voice reminded Tiffany, fighting over the sound of her pleasure from Seojun’s tongue running across her wet folds, “and you’ll get your Master’s cock too.”
“Yes, Mistress…”
But while Tiffany was scornfully pouting in jealousy over Taeyeon’s access to Seojun’s cock, Seojun himself was in complete bliss. Even after an entire night of groping and feeling Tiffany’s firm, plush ass in his hands, it wasn’t enough. It felt like it would never be enough. He wanted more, squeezing and rubbing the pliable, taut skin beneath his palms, digging his fingers into the soft yet firm skin, the experience was made better by the sweet taste of Tiffany’s nectar dribbling onto his lips. Seojun didn’t let up, channeling the intense lust from Taeyeon vigorously riding his cock into kissing Tiffany’s vaginal lips with as much gusto and passion as possible.
“Ah…” Tiffany’s torrid moans continually streamed out of her mouth, arching her back and resting her arms on his torso to give him better access to her ass and leaking entrance. Her eyes fell onto Taeyeon, who was lost in her own world of pleasure.
Taeyeon’s hands were placed firmly on Seojun’s hips, rising until barely half an inch remained inside her before slamming back down onto his crotch. With every connection, bits of her honey splattered onto Seojun’s crotch, creating an increasingly damp landing area for her ass. The firm, crisp sound of her ass slamming onto his crotch gradually turned into a more muted, wetter noise.
Seojun could barely hear it though, Tiffany’s soft upper thighs pressed firmly against his ears. With his eyes closed as well, his other senses sharpened—namely, his sense of taste and touch. He became more aware of the amount of sticky substance from Tiffany’s womanhood dotting his face, the almost water-like consistency of her wet folds. He could feel the shivers sent up Tiffany’s spine every time he ventured downwards to flick the small, erect stub sitting below her entrance with his tongue and savor the endless supply of the succubus’s honey-sweet nectar flowing into and around his mouth.
He could feel Taeyeon’s heat. It was suffocating, burning, only intensified by the torrent of juices her pussy was smothering his cock with. He could feel the flesh, wet walls convulsing, almost massaging, the length of his shaft. He could feel it trying to suck him back in when Taeyeon pulled up and tighten its embrace after Taeyeon sheathed his dick completely. He could feel the flexing of her legs and elasticity of her more-than-supple ass with every stroke, and feel her cervix gently kiss his engorged tip after each downward thrust.
Seojun was so overwhelmed with lust and ecstasy, he was sure that if he was still a regular mortal man, he would have long passed out by now.
“Mistress…” another forlorn mewl escaped Tiffany’s lips, her breath shaking with arousal as she watched Taeyeon ride Seojun’s dick with fervor. The sound of Taeyeon’s ass clapping against Seojun’s crotch area could be faintly heard, nearly overpowered by the lust-charged sighs and moans from the two women atop the succubus’s servant.
Seojun carefully moved his hands away from Tiffany’s ass, around and towards the front. He moved his face downwards, his thumb gently but sturdily rubbing circles around the hard nub atop her slit. His other hand braced itself against her upper thighs, his index and middle fingers rubbing along the outside of her wet labia.
“Aah, Master!”
Her breathing grew deeper, her hands moving upwards and rubbing her own boobs. “Does that feel good, Tiffany?” Seojun asked, temporarily separating himself from her leaking slit, his fingers continuing their harsh rubbing along it.
“Yes, Master! It feels amazing!”
Satisfied, Seojun dove back in, capturing her lips in her nether regions in a liplock. His thumb continued its gentle massaging motions, the index finger from the other hand drawing lines across her inner thighs. He could tell that his every action was working magnificently, her moans growing louder and her legs shivering with every line drawn across the sensitive skin so close to their hot connection.
After finally getting into the rhythm of things, Seojun directed his attention to his mistress, whose hot vaginal walls were tightly clamped around the girth of his cock, sliding fiercely along its length. It took him a few seconds, but when he finally captured Taeyeon’s rhythm, he followed her downward stroke with upwards thrusts.
“Oh! Seojun, fuck!”
Taeyeon’s body shuddered against Seojun’s as a wave of ecstasy crashed down her body, his cock hitting all the way into her cervix. It was a feeling that Seojun figured he would’ve never been able to enjoy with his smaller-than-average dick size, but true to Taeyeon’s words, her pussy compensated for his size. This was one of the many, many reasons why he was thankful he found Taeyeon—or rather, Taeyeon found him: with Taeyeon, Seojun’s deprecating self-talk about his dick size completely disappeared. Every ‘feeding session’ they had, not only did he get to enjoy Taeyeon’s eternally tight, wet pussy, but Taeyeon always conveyed her satisfaction of him with her every movement. The way her eyes squeezed shut, the way her luscious lips parted, the breathy sound of her lustful sighs and moans, the vigor she always used, everything communicated to Seojun that his dick size was a complete non-issue to the succubus.
Maybe here he should say something sappy about ‘finally being accepted’ or something. But really, Seojun was just happy to fuck Taeyeon any chance she presented to him. Because man did every single time feel like a straight shot to cloud nine.
“Mistress…” this time, Tiffany’s voice came out as a whimper, a slight break in her gasping and moaning at the apex of his thrusts.
Although her voice was muted, Seojun could still detect the impatience in her voice. He could more so feel it in the way her hands restlessly rubbed his mid-torso area and her legs drumming against the side of his head. Feeling bad, he separated from her temporarily to speak. “Taeyeon, don’t you think Tiffany’s been a good enough girl to get a reward?”
“Hm, you may be right honey.” Hearing the pet name caused his heart to skip a beat.
Seojun had a conception that their relationship was not much more than a servant and a mistress. Of course, Taeyeon was kind and caring, and in that way she at times acted like a gentle, caring noona, but apart from those two, he figured there would be nothing further, especiallynot a romantic relationship. After all, Taeyeon was much wiser and smarter and more beautiful and talented and would undoubtedly live well past himself. In the grand scheme of her life, Seojun’s would pass by like a blink of an eye.
While Taeyeon calling Seojun ‘honey’ wasn’t the first pet name that she used to address him, but they were always to serve a roleplay—as they were now. And Seojun understood this; they were merely playing a role, but still, even the slightest hint at a romantic relationship between the two made his heart flutter. It was all but inevitable for such a normal man like him to fall in love with such a divine being like Taeyeon, especially after the amount of intimacy they’ve shared in the past weeks.
But Seojun didn’t dare bring this up. After all, he was stuck with Taeyeon for the rest of her life—and depending on how she felt about him, that could last as long as a couple hundred years or a couple of days if Taeyeon ever felt too weird about Seojun’s feelings for her to continue feeding on him. Even though she was a sex demon, Seojun wouldn’t put it past Taeyeon to feel guilty for continuing to feed on someone who had fallen in love with her if she didn’t reciprocate.
“Go ahead and turn around, Fany.”
“Th-Thank you, Mistress! Thank you, Master!”
Tiffany scurried off, Seojun taking a second to try to shake the sticky liquid accumulated on his face but to no avail. Taeyeon, seeing this, giggled, Seojun’s heart skipping another beat upon making eye contact with her. It was weird; his cock was currently buried deep inside her pussy, and not for the first time either—hell, probably not even the tenth time—yet it was seeing her eyes curve up with her lips that caused his heart to stir.
“You made quite a mess on poor Seojun’s face. Was he that good?”
“Oh, I’m so sorry!” Tiffany’s head was turned, facing his, and reached down to wipe the residual juices that she had left behind. “Master’s tongue and fingers felt so good that I couldn’t help myself.”
“Are you ok darling?”
“I’m fine, babe.” Seojun was hesitant to respond with the pet name, his heart missing another beat but this time from anxiety at potential backlash from Taeyeon for calling her ‘babe’. Thankfully, it didn’t seem to faze Taeyeon at all; in fact, she seemed to like it, the corners of her lips curling upwards even further.
“Make sure to drink your fill, alright? And Fany, make sure to cum lots for your Master, OK?”
“I will! Although Master is so good that I doubt I’ll have any trouble with that,” she replied in a chipper voice, settling back down onto Seojun’s face. He took a second to situate himself and shortly after got back to work. A melody of moans arose from the taller demoness, her legs folded on top of themselves to alleviate her body weight from her pleasure-giver but spread apart enough that reconnecting with her labia wasn’t an issue.
Taeyeon’s movements had slowed down, moving from the fierce riding she was doing to a steady grinding of her hips, stirring the rod inside her like a straw inside a cup. Her tail whipped around her body, the tip materializing into the very object that was sheathed to the hilt inside her, and before Seojun had much of an opportunity to note how strange it felt to feel the cool air of the room along with the scorching heat of Taeyeon’s insides, the tail-penis was shoved straight into Tiffany’s backdoor.
“Oh! M-Master, fuck!” Seojun and Tiffany shuddered in unison, the feeling of another, considerably less damp and fleshy set of equally scorching hot walls clamp around his dick and the sensation from the tightness of her sphincter muscles travelling up and down the length of his dick as Taeyeon pumped her tail furiously inside the dark-haired demoness causing waves of pleasure to course through the bodies of both parties.
“Language,” Taeyeon warned, her own voice starting to tremble as she quickly picked back up where she left off, her wet groin sloppily connecting with his groin equally wet with the same fluid.
“I-I’m sorry, Mistress!” Tiffany seemed to be unable to keep her voice down, her back arching and her hands on her chest, rubbing the soft bags of flesh and pinching the rock-hard nipples at their peaks.
Seojun was a helpless slave to lust. His hips moved on their own, his fingers working on her clit and his tongue and lips working on Tiffany’s pussy while her other hole was being mercilessly pounded by Taeyeon’s tail-penis. He wasn’t sure if he was even thinking, even that heart-stopping sensation of love replaced with pure lust. The entire room exuded with the intense lasciviousness of all three parties, the rattling of the bed beneath them echoing about the otherwise empty house.
“Master, I’m close!”
“Be a goof gir and gib Maftur lafts of cum.” Seojun’s voice, although muffled, was audible and coherent enough to serve as the impetus for Tiffany’s orgasm. Heralded by a single, piercing scream, the immortal woman’s entire body succumbed to pleasure, torrent after torrent of her hot, sweet nectar squirting straight into Seojun’s mouth. The semi-mortal man tried his best to collect as much of it with his mouth, but his concentration was shaky at best—hearing the lewd scream of ecstasy, feeling her body vibrate as her orgasm wracked her body not only with his face but with the dick lodged firmly into her rear entrance, and feeling Taeyeon’s pussy tighten in response to seeing her fellow succubus succumb to an orgasm was more than enough to push the building dam over the edge.
“Urgh, fuck,” Seojun grunted, jets of white, viscous fluid shooting straight into the ass of Tiffany and the vagina of Taeyeon.
“A-Ah! M-Master, thank you for filling my tight little ass with your precious cum!”
His hips continued to thrust in and out of Taeyeon as he rode out his orgasm, the euphoric release driving his muscles to ride out the orgasm until it subsided a few seconds later. It barely took any time for Seojun to catch his breath, Tiffany’s Trait keeping his stamina high and his dick hard.
The energetic demoness unmounted Seojun, and upon seeing his face covered in her nectar, hurriedly moved over to help him clean his face off. “Thanks, Tiffany,” Seojun said after his face felt adequately clean.
She beamed in response. “Was I a good girl?”
After taking a few seconds to catch her breath, Taeyeon unsheathed Seojun’s cock, a barely audible whine pushed through her closed lips. It sprang free from its hot confines, soaked to the bone with Taeyeon’s juices, bits of it splattering onto his abdominal area. “What would you say, honey?”
“I think it’s appropriate for her to pay back me performing oral sex on her by her doing the same to me.”
Tiffany perked up, her eyes gleaming with excitement. Seojun couldn’t help but smile seeing Tiffany’s tail waving about excitedly like a dog wagging its tail. “Mistress, may I?”
“Of course.”
“Thank you! Thank you so much too, Master!”
Not wasting a single second, Tiffany and Taeyeon swapped position, Tiffany’s body hovering over her legs while Taeyeon hugged him from behind, Seojun having moved to a seated position. The semi-mortal man bit back an aroused sigh, the immensely satisfying feeling of Taeyeon’s ample bust pressed against his back causing a small shudder to roll down his system.
“Do you like my tits that much, babe?”
Another, much stronger shudder rolled down Seojun’s body at the sensation of Taeyeon’s hot breath against his ears, the pet name spoken with such an alluring tone that he had to clench his fists to fight back what would’ve otherwise been a perhaps embarrassingly loud moan.
Before he could answer though, Tiffany piped up. “Would you like me to use my boobs first or my mouth, Master?” Seojun’s gaze shifted away from Taeyeon’s head that was resting on his shoulder to the submissive succubus kneeling atop his legs. Her upper body was folded over her legs, but even so, Seojun could see the curve of her ass sticking out, still maintaining the moist appearance from before. Her voluptuous rack was resting inches away from his erect cock, the innocent inquisitive expression on her face providing a stark contrast to Seojun’s bulging cock inches below her chin.
Fuck, that’s sexy.
“Why don’t you put those tits of yours to use?”
“Gladly!”
Tiffany shifted forward, smothering his shaft still damp with Taeyeon’s honey with her mounds. Most of his member disappeared into the warm abyss of Tiffany’s tits, her hands holding them at the sides and applying a firm pressure onto it.
“Shit,” Seojun hissed, a shaky breath pushed out his mouth.
“Does Master like this?”
The way her eyes curved upward, leaving enough space open to see the absolute joy exuding from her brown orbs, her invitingly plump red lips also curved upwards into a dazzling smile, everything about her joyous expression was almost impossible to disagree with. “It feels fucking amazing.” But even without Tiffany’s infectiously joyous expression, Seojun would’ve said the same thing: it was like two warm pillows of flesh were tightly embracing the length of his shaft. Out of all the females he had copulated with so far, Tiffany definitely had the biggest boobs. And while this wasn’t the first time Tiffany had given him a titjob, the warmness and softness of her milk jugs, not to mention their volume and how thoroughly it enveloped his contrastingly rock-hard cock, felt heavenly.
“Does Master like my boobs?”
“Your Master loves them, Fany.”
The compliment clearly delighted the succubus, using greater vigor to squeeze tighter and pump faster. Again, Seojun briefly wondered how much of Tiffany’s reaction was acting because of how genuine her reaction seemed, especially since it can’t have been the first time, or probably even the hundredth time, she received a compliment for her boobs. They were incredibly beautiful, after all: its color was the perfectly pure white of fresh snow in the morning, the skin taught with not even a hint of a wrinkle in sight. They were perky and had a nice, round shape, the areola a nice pink color, at their centers even pinker nipples just big enough that seeing them made Seojun want nothing to do but to bring his mouth to them and suckle on them.
However, at the moment, they were bouncing up and down his shaft, following the gradually increasing speed of Tiffany’s hands.
“Master’s cock feels so good inside my tits, I—” She stopped herself upon feeling a sticky fluid coming in contact with the silky skin on her mounds. Her eyes narrowed in on it, a clear hunger in her eyes; she stared at the streak of white fluid on her white skin for a solid two seconds before painstakingly lifting her head, not bothering to remove the hunger from her gaze. “Master, may I have it?”
“Leave it.” Why was Seojun being so sadistic? He wasn’t sure, but something about denying Tiffany her delicious meal when it was so close to her made him salivate at the prospect of Tiffany’s reaction to finally receiving his dick. “I’m going to cum all over your beautiful tits, and you aren’t allowed to lick any of it off. Instead, you’re going to spread it all over them. Understood?”
Tiffany’s pained expression reminded him of a wounded puppy, but Taeyeon just laughed. “I didn’t know you were like this, honey.”
“This is also for Tiffany’s sake; the more I deny her, the more she’ll enjoy it when I finally fill her pussy with my cum, right?”
Hearing the words made Tiffany go cross eyed, her lust clearly getting the better of her: the speed and ferocity of her titjob increased even further, so much so that Seojun let out a surprised groan through gritted teeth.
“I think you still owe me an orgasm, babe,” Taeyeon whispered into Seojun’s ear, pressing her bosom further against his back, “But don’t let Tiffany know, she might get jealous.” Seojun couldn’t really comprehend the meaning of Taeyeon’s words until he felt that familiar yet still extremely strange sensation of the warmness of whatever his dick was lodged between and the cool air of Taeyeon’s house, that coolness shortly after changing to the intense heat of Taeyeon’s pussy.
“Master?”
Seeing Seojun’s facial expression contort at seemingly nothing, Tiffany’s puzzled expression peered up at him.
“You’re doing very well, Tiffany. You can go ahead and start using your mouth too.”
The proposal completely blew away the confusion from her face, pulling her chest away and dipping her head down onto his stiff shaft. Her torso arched downwards, inadvertently accentuating her ass even more, but Seojun barely had any time to admire it as Tiffany’s warm, wet mouth enveloped Seojun’s cock.
“Ah, fuck,” he groaned again, in both parts from feeling his cock hilting Taeyeon and from feeling the moist cavern of Tiffany’s mouth form a tight vacuum around his penis.
Tiffany bobbed her head up and down his shaft a few times, making sure there wasn’t a square centimeter of his dick not slathered with saliva by her tongue before coming back up. “Master’s cock tastes so good~” she sang, leaning down to plant a few kisses along its wet exterior. Parker could only grit his teeth, holding back the moans from the increasingly aggressive thrusts of Taeyeon’s penis-tail into her vagina.
“And Master’s cock feels so good inside my pussy too~” Taeyeon cooed teasingly, the softly spoken words drifting directly into Seojun’s ear.
“Fuck,” Seojun gasped. Tiffany looked up at him again, one hand gently fondling his balls while running her lips and tongue along the length of his rod.
“Does it feel that good, Master?”
Seojun nodded, although it was a slight lie. While Tiffany’s lips did feel amazing on his hardened member, it was the combined feeling of Taeyeon continually thrusting his dick so deep that he could feel its tip brush against her cervix with each thrust that drew the noise out of him.
“I’m very pleased right now Tiffany. If you continue being a good girl, I’ll let your pussy have my cock too.”
Seeing the sheer excitement in Tiffany’s eyes again, Seojun decided that it couldn’t be all acting. It just looked too genuine. “Really?!”
“You better make your Master cum if you’re that excited,” Taeyeon noted, only the slightest bit of strain in her voice detectable.
If Tiffany noticed, she made no indication of it, her eyes gaining a newfound determination. “Don’t worry Master, I’ll make you cum in no time.”
“A-And make sure you don’t swallow any of it.”
This time, the strain in Taeyeon’s voice was more apparent, but Tiffany was too focused to mind. Taking a second to dribble coalesced saliva onto Seojun’s penis and spreading it expertly along the sensitive skin with her boobs, she gave the swollen tip of the raging cock a gentle kiss before penetrating her lips with them.
“Aagh,” a warbled moan came out of Seojun’s mouth, finally able to let loose all the ecstasy from Taeyeon’s vaginal walls rubbing so ferociously against the same sensitive skin that was receiving kisses from Tiffany’s luscious, velvety lips. “Tiffany, god you’re so good…”
Tiffany tilted her head upwards and shot him a brief yet heartstoppingly gorgeous and sexy eye-smile before plunging the rest of the way down his dick.
“Ah, shit,” another moan came out of Seojun’s mouth the combined feeling of Tiffany’s throat and Taeyeon’s pussy suffocating his cock overwhelming him for a brief second. Drool started dribbling down the corners of her lips and onto his balls, but Tiffany didn’t let it phase her. She continued at a steadily accelerating pace, her throat flexing impressively around the girth of his penis.
“Use those horns.” Although Taeyeon wasn’t saying anything particularly provocative, the inherent sexiness in her voice itself was enough to distract him for a few seconds, only realizing what she was saying when she nudged him with her chin.
Seojun looked down, and sure enough, her horns had materialized out of her head, in the exact right position to be used as handles.
The gargling sounds from Tiffany deepthroating Seojun’s cock intensified as his hands found firm grips on the hard material and pushed her even further down. “That’s so sexy, isn’t it, babe?”
“It fucking is,” Seojun agreed, wanting to close his eyes from the influx of pleasure but not wanting to let the unique top-down vantage point of Tiffany’s impressive deepthroating go to waste.
It took about a minute or two before Tiffany came back up for air, her hair messy and saliva running down her chin. However, Tiffany paid no attention to it, peering up at her ‘Master’ while carefully rubbing her voluptuous tits against the saliva-drenched penis. “Did Master like it? Did Master think the horns were helpful?”
“I did, it felt amazing, and it was extremely helpful, Tiffany. You’ve been a really good girl so far, only a little more until your reward.”
An overjoyed squeal came out of Tiffany’s excited smile, rubbing the semi-mortal man’s cock a few more times with her boobs before diving back down.
“You’re pretty good at this,” Taeyeon whispered to Seojun playfully, reveling in the pleasure of her partner as he once again let out a guttural groan, feeling Tiffany’s throat once again hugging the circumference of his cock.
Seojun couldn’t find a chance to reply, his mind so overwhelmed with lust that it rendered his speech capabilities inert. With his impending orgasm, his movements became more erratic, the grip on Tiffany’s horns tightening and the matching thrust of his hips into Tiffany’s mouth so forceful that tears started leaking out of Tiffany’s eyes. Tiffany seemed not to mind, and in fact seemed to be pushed further by Seojun’s increased intensity and matched it readily.
By the time he neared the edge, he gave a warning before pushing her off. When they met eyes, Tiffany’s expression clearly told one of confusion and disappointment. “Remember, you aren’t allowed to swallow any yet.”
“Oh … ok…” Reluctant as she was, Tiffany obliged, obediently shifting her body so that her chest was level with his cock. It took only a few pumps before the dam burst yet again, flooding the inside of Taeyeon’s waiting pussy yet again while simultaneously splattering Tiffany’s boobs, her chin, her neck, her clavicle, and even parts of her areola and nipples with the sticky white substance.
The most precarious strip was a streak that landed on the corner of her lip, extending to her cheek. Seojun could see the temptation in Tiffany’s eyes, her mouth parting briefly but summarily closing upon meeting Seojun’s cocked eyebrow. Her hand shot up and collected the two streaks that landed on her face, planting his seed on the soft bags of flesh on her chest. Seojun watched, Tiffany’s hot gaze trained on Seojun’s as she ran her hands all along her upper body, smearing the globules of cum all about her pearly white skin until what was left was a thin, shiny covering of Seojun’s seed.
“Good girl, good job, Tiffany.”
Taeyeon sneakily unplugged her pussy and reverted her tail back to its original state before separating herself from him.
“Does this mean…?”
The hopeful expression in her eyes caused another smile to sprout on Seojun’s face, the expression quickly changing when Seojun confirmed with her, “How do you want it?”
Next chapter here.
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swankii-art-teacher · 2 years ago
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Something new to read... looking forward to more!
Overdrive
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Chapter One
Chapter Two 
Word Count: 650
~
Welcome to my newest fic, Overdrive! I hope you’re ready for some friends to enemies to lovers mixed in with some F1 and a little bit of angst! 
~
Keep reading
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daydreams-after-dark · 5 months ago
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Free Use Jail Cell, Part 3
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 (final)
Police Officer Skz ot8 x female reader
Premise: you're arrested and held for 24 hours by 8 police officers at the local police station / reader has her fantasy play out.
Word Count: 2.2k (part 3)
Chapter Summary: Officers Han and Hyunjin visit you in your cell while you sleep. Sweet sex before the unhinged chapter 4.
a/n: This fic will be in multiple parts because I get too impatient not to share what I’ve written so far. There will be two, possibly three installments turns out it will be more like 6 (tag list is open).
I refer to the officers as “Officer Hyunjin”, “Officer Minho” etc just to make it quick to identify the characters. 
The whole premise is planned and explained in the fic. The story is purely fantasy, but please be mindful of content warnings, as it has potentially triggering content. I want you to be safe here on my blog.
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CW: somnophilia, unprotected double pen (2 holes), oral sex (f rec), cum eating, nipple play, body worship, orgasms, coming inside, praise.
“She looks so peaceful.” Officer Hyunjin coos as he removes his clothes and lays down beside your sleeping body and props himself up on his side.
“The bastards better not have tired her out completely.” Officer Han grumbles, stripping his clothes off entirely as well and shifting your blanket to the side. “Fuck!” he hisses when he parts your legs and drinks in your pussy with bulging eyes.
“Dude, your dick just twitched.” Hyunjin points out.
“Yeah, well look! They’ve prepared her for us.” he says in disbelief. “They’ve left a plug in her ass.”
“Good. I can spend more time with her beautiful breasts if I don’t have to prep her. You brought the lube right?” he whispers.
“In my pocket.” Han replies, but his attention is firmly on the cum still oozing from your cunt and pooling around the handle of the anal plug. He swipes his finger through the thick white fluid and brings it to his lip. “Detective Minho stuffed her full of his cum. Taste.” He offers Hyunjin his finger, who sucks it off him like it’s frosting from the most delicious cake in the world. But Hyunjin wants the cherry on top too.
He unbuttons your shirt, pulling it open to expose your breasts and immediately suckles on a nipple. With two long fingers, he gathers some of Minho’s semen from your pussy and coats your nipples with it. He is hard as stone just from your glistening hardened peaks. Cupping your breast, he squeezes the flesh then licks the cum from your nipple, savoring the taste. As his tongue swirls around your erect buds, your breathing becomes shallower. Indicating this is turning you on. Hyunjin kisses up your chest to your neck, peppering light kisses along the sensitive flesh. His hands continue to fondle you, exploring your other breast and then moving down to your stomach then hips. But he can’t leave your tits alone, always coming back to take them in his mouth or hand.
Meanwhile, Han buries his face against your cunt, lapping at you greedily, then slipping a finger into your tight walls. You’re so wet from how aroused you have been over the past few hours, and coupled with the cum inside you, your pussy makes lewd squelching sounds as he slowly finger fucks you.
You start to stir to the feelings of pressure between your legs, the sensation of hands caressing you, and the plush lips that are wrapped around your nipples are sending your arousal into overdrive. Soft, warm flesh grinding against your side, a hard erection pressed against the side of your hip, making you want to whimper.
“Shh… it’s okay, y/n. Just keep sleeping for us, okay baby.” Han soothes as he kneels between your legs. “Gonna fill you up good, just stay asleep.” He rubs the thick, leaking head of his cock through your lips and sinks into your cunt with a relieving moan. No resistance. It’s like you were made for taking cock. “Yes, that’s it. Just let us use your body. So good for us… Shhh…stay asleep.”
You are somewhere between sleep and awake. Drowsy enough to be compliant and pliable, but awake enough to feel everything that the two officers are doing to you. Han slid his cock deep into you again, making you groan. Then he wraps his hands underneath your hips to pull you up to meet each thrust, reaching the depths of your body. Hyunjin smirks against your ear. “Feel that, do you princess? Officer Han fucking that pussy good, hmm?” He takes your limp hand in his and wraps it around his long, hard length, and jerking himself off with it.
Hyunjin leans down and kisses you with the softest, juiciest lips you’ve ever felt. He kisses you as though you are sacred. Deliberate and passionate. You want to open your eyes and look at the two men who are touching you like this, who are making you feel like you’re about to float away. You squeeze Hyunjin’s cock on your own with your hand, and he releases his grip. “Looks like our Sleeping Beauty is waking up now.” he purrs.
“Let’s flip her.” Han decides, and suddenly, somehow he has rolled onto his back, pulling you on top of his hard, toned body. You haven’t even seen it yet but you know he looks like a dream. Hyunjin hovers over you, his chest to your back, and you feel his erection between your ass cheeks. Both men have hard bodies, not just hard cocks. You can feel every ridge of muscle against you as they breathe and grunt as they writhe against you.
Hyunjin’s fingers find the handle of the anal plug, tugging it and pushing it back a few times. You sob at the feeling, and rest your head in the crook of Han’s neck.
“Such a perfect, little prisoner. Ready for us to use as we want.” Hyunjin kisses your neck as he pulls the plug out with a wet plop. You let out a shaky gasp, which quickly turns into a low moan when you feel him push his cock into your ass.
Your eyes spring open at the intrusion, and land directly on Officer Han’s beautiful face. “Hi there.” He says in a low voice. His eyes are dark and full of arousal, and his lips look so inviting that you crash your mouth down on them, seeking his tongue. He doesn’t resist, and groans when you kiss him wildly and start to try and move your hips.
“Woah, Princess. Let me get all the way in before you start to rock your hips like that.” Hyunjin says, pushing himself in a little more. 
You peeled your mouth away from Han’s. “Just fucking get it in me. Need to be filled…please…need your cock.” you whimpered.
Hyunjin with one hand gripping a hip and the other pushing your cheek to the side, he squeezes the rest of his cock into you until bottoms out. “Fuck!” He pants against your neck. “Fucking tight.” 
They start to move, taking turns thrusting and withdrawing. Both men moaning about how good you feel. Their hands feel like they’re everywhere. Their lips barely leave your skin even for a moment. Han can’t seem to get enough of your tongue, and Hyunjin can’t get enough of your shoulder and neck. He nibbles and sucks, marking you, leaving bruises. Han’s lips on yours feels like electricity, sending waves of pleasure straight to your core, where their cocks massage your inner walls in a synchronized rhythm.
So full. So full of cock. That’s all that’s going through your mind, as they start to fuck you harder. Their skin feels sweaty and clammy on yours, providing a slipperiness that helps them glide against you. You rock your hips, sliding up and down between them and creating friction against your clit. Han’s toned abdomen is the perfect hardness to grind against.
Never did you imagine being in this situation. Not just being double penetrated by two delicious men, but everything that’s happened so far. The cop car sex, the unhinged interrogation, and who knows what else the next few hours have in store for you. All you know is you needed something… Something that would help you live out your deepest, depraved desires. You want to be used. You want to be gang banged. You want to be a submissive cockleeve. You want them to do the things to you that you were too scared to tell any partner you ever had.
And right now you are finally experiencing it.
“Fuck me harder…ngh…need to feel you deeper.” you whimper.
“Deeper, you say.” Han raises an eyebrow. “I think we can perhaps manage that.”
The two men ease out of you, leaving you protesting and insisting that they get back inside you. You feel too empty and you think you’re about to cry.
“It’s okay, baby. Let’s get you standing up.” Han helps you to your feet and supports you to where Hyunhin is standing in the middle of your cell. 
“Here, let’s restrain you. Give me your hands.” Hyunjin says softly. He takes your hands and restrains them in a set of handcuffs that dangle from the ceiling. They weren't there before. 
You stand there, naked and restrained with your hands secured over your head. 
“You look like an absolute treat.” They chuckle to themselves as they come close. Hyunjin slides his fingers into your cunt causing you to roll your head back and moan.Then he circles around to stand behind you. “Need to be buried in your ass again.” He sighs and pushes himself snugly inside of you. “Good girl. Just gonna fuck you hard for a bit before Han joins us.”
The sharp snap of Huynjin’s hips takes you by surprise and you cry out loudly. He fucks far harder than you presumed he could, almost knocking you off your feet. “You wanted it deep.” he grunts. “This deep enough?” He rams himself all the way to the hilt and pulls your hips back against him and grinds hard into you, forcing as much of himself inside of you that he can.
“F-fuck!” you cry out. Your eyes land of Han, naked in front of you. He’s a vision. Perfectly sculpted from the gods. His broad shoulders and toned body that tapers off to the slimmest waist you have ever seen. And his cock. So obscene against his lower abs, leaking like he’s already cum. You need him inside you. You need his cum in your cunt. 
Han steps forward as Hyunjin holds you underneath your ass and lifts you up, spreading your legs in such a way that allows Han to slide himself back into your very needy pussy. “So tight, baby. Fuck, this is the best pussy I’ve ever had wrapped around my dick.” he pants and smiles brightly at you. Then he’s entering you again.
They both hold you in midair while they fuck you deep and fast, bouncing you up and down on their hard lengths. Their delectable mouths continue to worship your skin, kissing you wherever they can reach. Their pretty grunts and moans, and whispered “fucks” bring you closer and closer to the edge. You want to come all over them. You’re going to come all over them. You’re pressed between them hard so that you can feel both men flush against you. It feels so intimate, sensual even. But at the same time it’s so raw, so lewd.
“Come for us. I can feel you’re tightening up. God, you have a tight grip don’t you baby? Don’t want to let go of our cocks, huh?” Han coos.
“It’s, okay. You’ll get to feel us again in the morning when we all take turns.” Hyunjin whispers against your ear. His hot, wet breath makes you shiver.
You whimper at that thought. All of them fucking you? Taking turns. You clench your walls again.
“Hmm, that’s right. I think a couple of them want to be in your tight little cunt at the same time.” Han whispers.
You’re so close. You can feel the coil about to snap.
“All while someone else is deep in your throat.” Hyunjin bites your neck and sucks the skin harshly.
That’s it. You’re gone. “Fuck!!!!! Coming…coming!!” you sob as you’re taken over the edge, trembling around their penises. “S’good…Feels s’good. Keep fucking me… keep fucking ‘till you cum in me.” You begin to cry and drop your head back against Hyunjin’s shoulder, sobbing loudly and uncontrollably.
“Oh fuck, you’re so pretty when you cry, baby… oh fuck!!” Han’s hips thrust erratically then he releases deep inside your still quivering pussy.
Hyunkin follows suit, thrusting extra hard until he cries out in a choked groan.
You’re still crying and shaking as the two men withdraw their softening cocks from your abused holes. They release you from your restraints and take you back to your mattress on the floor. 
“Shh.. it’s okay, baby.” Han soothes you, holding you close. “You needed that, huh? Big orgasm?” He checks in with you. You nod. Hyunjin lifts your chin. “I think you’re our favorite, you know that?” he looks into your eyes, but it feels like he’s looking into your soul. You gulp. He is the most beautiful man you have ever laid eyes on.
Officers Han and Hyunjin stay with you until you fall asleep.
“She seems really nice.” Hyunjin whispers to Han as they get dressed. “Han, what’s wrong?” Hyunjin notes his friend’s worried expression.
“Do you think she’s going to be able to handle Jeongin?” He gulped and furrowed his brow.
“It was in her request. Plus she has a safeword.”
They stepped out of the cell, locking it behind them.
“Yeah, but Jeongin’s deranged. What if he doesn’t listen?” Han rests his eyes on your sleeping face and his dick springs to life.
“Come on. We’ve never had a problem before. Besides, she handled Minho and Seungmin and they’re into some kinky shit.”
“Yeah, you’re right.” Han shakes his head and chuckles. “She definitely seems like the type to know exactly what she wants.”
↳ tag list : open
↠↠ Up next : Unhinged, depraved, unhinged Jeongin.
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@jeonginsleftcheek @meilix @itgirlalisaa @linocz @bubblebisk @boi-bi-ahaha @frozenpeasworld @grandma143 @milkypinkmimi @bangchansbbgirl @lunearta @leefelixsslut @privhace @justforreaders @galaxycatdrawz @melochacco @jiwoos-babygirl @kavifornia @chuuyaobsessed @iadorethemskz @hyun-hwanj @favieeerrrr @courtnort455 @brimarie0512 @stanskzot8 @dwaekkicidal @kibs-and-bits @txa-r @minh0scat
@channieandhisgoonsquad @noellllslut @itsseohannbin @weareapackofstrays @3rachasdomesticbanana @palindrome969 @xxkissesforchanniexx @chuuchuu1224 @fun-fanfics @wolfennracha @rhonnie23 @jisunglyricist @strayywayy @armystay89 @igetcarriedawaywithyou @mylittleponeypinkrosieposie @kyunchoni @justforreaders @melochacco @scenuniverse @oddracha @ismokeeweed @galaxycatdrawz
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phoward89 · 8 months ago
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Based on this ask & this ask
Dark!Coryo, Dark!Peacekeeper Coryo, Innocent!Reader, obsession
Series Masterlist
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Chapter 1:
Coriolanus, now Private Snow, hated District 12. It was so depressing. Between the coal dust, mud, and poverty, he’s surprised that half of the district's population hasn't killed themselves yet. The atmosphere is horrible.
He hates it.
Would've never made it to adulthood if he was raised in the back hills of the Appalachian mountains. Seriously, he would've offed himself. Between the mud, the muggy heat, the never ending coal dust, the bugs (locals call them skeeters), and the overall atmosphere of despair, he hates District 12.
Oh, how he missed the view of the Rockies that surround his beloved Capitol. He had such a lovely view of the superior mountain range from his former penthouse. Even though it was falling apart, moldy, and rat infested, the penthouse was still on the Corso. Was still in the wealthiest part of town. Yes, he was struggling to stay afloat; was impoverished, but at least he lived in the prized and most sought after part of the Capitol.
Keyword: lived. As in past tense, as in he used to live there. Now he lives on Peacekeeper Base-12, District 12.
From a 12th floor Corso penthouse to a peacekeeper’s base in 12. Oh, how Coriolanus Snow has fallen.
High-as-a-kite-bottom must be shitting rainbows at Coriolanus being a peacekeeper in a backwater district.
And to think he was originally assigned to the peacekeeper base in 8. Oh, how he's glad he spent every last cent to his name to bribe his way into service in 12. He doubts that he could survive District 8 considering it's full of nothing but smog, tenant buildings, and textile factories.
At least in 12 he has some fresh air to breathe.
But, he hasn't been able to find his reason for being in 12.
Lucy Gray.
He's been in 12 for a few weeks now and can't locate her. Even Sejanus can't get anyone to tell him where she's at. That's bad considering how everyone seems to trust Sejanus; open up to the naive revolutionary due to his warm and friendly personality.
So, Coriolanus is stuck patrolling the streets of District 12 while rethinking his life choices. God, how he wants to be back in the Capitol so bad. He'll do anything to get back.
Anything at all.
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One day, while on patrol in the Merchant Sector, he spotted you, a pretty Seam girl, making her way to the apothecary shop.
You had on a pretty floral dress.
No, not just a floral dress, but a dress with tiny red roses on it.
It suited you.
You had a book tucked under your arm as you walked down the cobbled streets of the nicer part of the district. And when you noticed him, you gave him a small smile.
That was the biggest goddamn mistake you've ever made in your entire life!
That one small smile sent Coriolanus’ mind into overdrive. You were so kind to him with that one tiny gesture. So kind when everyone else in the district looked at him with disgust because of the uniform he wore on a daily basis. Everyone else in this back asswards district looked at him like a bug to be squashed, but you didn't. You looked at him like he was a genuine person.
Your small smile was full of warmth and sunshine. It reminded him of his mother, who he lost such a long time ago.
Oh, how he secretly craved the warm gentleness of a woman. The warm gentleness that he's only known while in the embrace of his mother.
He wonders if you would sing to him late at night when sleep seemed to evade him. When he was deep in thought, too focused on a problem that needed solving to sleep. Would you wrap your arms around him, hold him when he needed solace? Would you be that gentle woman's touch he's craved his entire life?
Yes.
Yes, you will be.
Coriolanus vowed that he'd find a way back to the Capitol, but now that's changed. Now, he needs to find a way to bring both of you back to the Capitol.
As delusional as it might seem Coriolanus was instantly obsessed with you all because you gave him a kind, small smile while on your way to intern at the apothecary shop.
But he didn't view it as obsession, instead he viewed it as love. And he loves you with his entire being all because you smiled sweetly at him.
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Your older brother Rein and his girlfriend Ashlie raised you to be leery and fearful of peacekeepers. They told you not to trust them; to stay away from them. And most of all, they told you to never ever look them in the eye or talk to them.
Not unless you wanted trouble to rain down on you like hellfire, that is.
But you made the mistake of flashing one a smile while on your way to the apothecary. The peacekeeper was young, you reckon around your age, and very tall. He had to be one of the tallest men you've ever seen in your entire life. But it wasn't his height that made you notice him. No, it was his eyes. Eyes such a pure blue, that they reminded you of the beautiful crystal clear water of the lake.
He seemed unlike any man you've ever seen before. Yes, he was a peacekeeper on watch duty, but he looked miserable. As if he didn't want to be here.
So, before you could think twice, you gave him a small, warm and friendly smile. Hoping that maybe you could cheer him up. Make his day a bit brighter in the desolate, depressing coal mining district you were cursed to be living in.
To your surprise, he smiled back. It was a closed lip smile, but it took over his entire face and just made his eyes sparkle. Made him look youthful underneath his peacekeeper's persona.
You barely made it a yard away from him when suddenly, a large shadow loomed over you. Looking up, you saw that the very same peacekeeper you just shared a smile with was right next to you. Walking by your side, like your personal golden retriever.
Except you didn't know that Private Snow isn't a golden retriever. He's more like a demon possessed Chihuahua from the deepest pits of hell. Shit, scratch that, he's legit the hellhound Cerberus that's guards the gate to the underworld for Hades.
Mhm…
But you didn't know that. How could you? You've just seen the man. Up until now he's been nothing, but a stranger to you.
Just another random peacekeeper.
“Um, hi.” You greeted your new companion, your voice a near stutter, as you passed by townspeople and shopkeepers while walking down the cobblestone street of the Merchant Sector.
Everyone looked a bit wide-eyed since you were side by side with a peacekeeper. Surely your name would be in the gossip mill tonight; it wouldn't be anything good either. Your older brother was going to flip his shit when he found out.
“Hello, Miss-” The peacekeeper at your side greeted, leaving an opening hanging for you to supply him your name.
“Y/N Halvir.” You simply supplied.
“Well, Miss Y/N, I'm Private Coriolanus Snow; I thought perhaps I could escort you to wherever you're going since, after all, it's my duty to patrol these streets and keep the good law-abiding citizens of 12 safe from harm.” Coriolanus told you, laying the charm on real thick since he wanted you to believe that he just wanted to do something nice and dutiful for you. He didn't want you to know that he wanted to take you to your destination in order to show you off to the entire Merchant Sector. To make sure that everyone (and he means everyone) in that part of 12 knows that you're with him.
Commissioned Officers are the only ones allowed in the Peacekeepers to have serious relationships (usually they would have an arranged match in the Capitol) but he didn't care. Coriolanus Snow did what he wanted; the hell with anybody else. He wanted something, he took it. Right now, he wanted you.
So…
He was taking you.
Or at least he would be taking you back to the Capitol with him once he figures out a way back there. But as for right now, Private Snow was letting everyone see you together; letting everyone know that you were his girl.
His girl and off limits to anyone else.
And if someone even did so much as look at you sideways, well, he'd kill them.
“Oh, you don't have to. The apothecary’s right up the bend and I'd hate to be a bother; make you take time out just to walk me there.”
“It's not a bother at all, darling. In fact, I insist on walking with you, to keep you safe.” Private Snow smiled, seeming to be a friendly and helpful gentleman underneath his grey uniform. “Never know who out there might try to harm such a pretty girl, like you.” He added in to drive home his reason for walking with you.
Hearing him call you pretty made your cheeks grow hot. Oh my… Nobody's called you pretty before, not even your own brother and his girlfriend (and they raised you). No, Rein and Ashlie always said that you looked nice.
Coriolanus calling you pretty did something to you.
The peacekeeper smirked to himself, knowing that his words had ensnared you to him. He honestly did think you were pretty, so having you react to the compliment by getting all flustered made his heart soar. It gave his obsessive nature a large ego boost, because to him your reaction meant that you loved him back, just like he loved you.
That the two of you shared the unbreakable bond of love at first sight.
But the truth of the matter was that Coriolanus was obsessed with you in an unhealthy way after seeing you and sharing a few words while you were just a kind person that wasn't used to being called pretty
You're from the Seam; girls from the seem don't get called pretty.
Well, not unless they're one Lucy Gray Baird.
But that reality would never be Private Snow's reality. No, his reality’s one where you're both crazy in love with each other after sharing smiles, a few words, and a walk.
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Coming to a stop right in front of the apothecary, you looked at the peacekeeper and politely told him, “Thank you for walking me here, Coriolanus.”
Coriolanus leaned forward, closing the space between you, only to request, “Please, call me Coryo. All my friends and family do.”
His words took you aback. Blinking, you asked in disbelief, “You want to be friends?”
“Yes.” Coryo nodded, a too wide smile showcasing his pearly whites on his face.
Lie!
That was a big fat fucking lie!
He didn't want to be your friend, he wanted to be your boyfriend. No, no. That's not true either. Scratch that, Peacekeeper Snow wanted to be your husband.
Yes, that's right. He just met you and barely knows you, but he wants to be your husband. All because he's obsessed with you; thinks that you share some kind of special undying love all because of a kind smile and a blush.
Boy oh boy, seems like he forgot about Lucy Gray real quick.
Lucy Gray. Lucy Gray who?
She didn't matter to him anymore. Coriolanus realizes now that the songbird was just a means to an end; that it would've never worked out between them.
That you're his true prize. The girl that's meant for him. The girl that's kind and pretty, just like his mother used to be before she was taken away from him by dying in the birthing bed with his baby sister.
You're his perfect girl.
“Okay. We can be friends.” You naively responded.
If only you knew what he truly meant by ‘being friends’. It'd save your family a whole lot of trouble and heartbreak. That's for sure.
“I'll wait around; escort you back when your done.” Coriolanus offered as the young dirty blonde man inside of the apothecary shop looked at the window, stunned to see you talking so easily with a peacekeeper.
A peacekeeper that had no need for herbs, remedies, and healers since he had access to all the modern medical marvels Panem’s Capitol had to offer at the PKB-12 Military Hospital. The young shopkeeper was concerned for your safety, seeing you exchanging words effortlessly with the uniformed grunt.
“I’m interning here til 5:30, sometimes 6.” You told Coriolanus because you didn't want your new friend waiting around for you when he had work to do.
Before Coriolanus could tell you that he'd be back around then to escort you home, the door to the apothecary flung open and out walked Juris Ashberry.
Juris was a dirty blonde of average height that you had gone to school with. His father was a clerk at the Justice Building; worked closely with the mayor. His mother was good friends with the old hag that owned the apothecary.
So, Juris arranged for you to get an internship at the shop after his family had arranged for him to be in a courtship with Belladonna, the daughter of the old hag that ran the apothecary.
Belladonna hated you because her intended, Juris, had a sweet spot for you. A sweet spot he was too chicken to openly declare.
And it was the worried look in his eyes that tipped Coriolanus off that the man who just walked out of the apothecary felt something for you. He wanted to stab that dirty merchant boy's eyes out for looking at you.
Coriolanus is the only one allowed to look at you with such sweet worry and care.
“Y/N, you're needed inside.” Juris told you as a way to separate you and Coryo. His eyes sized up the Capitol born and bred peacekeeper, concluding that if he had to then he could take the tall and athletically built peacekeeper on in a fight.
“Bye, Coryo.” You waved at your new friend before turning towards the apothecary.
You were almost to the door whenever it opened and out strolled Belladonna, your boss's daughter. She gave you a glare before skipping over to Juris and snatching his hand in hers. “Now that she's finally here, we can go have midmorning tea with Mayfair and Billy.”
Juris just nodded before silently walking off with Belladonna in the direction that the Mayor's large lavish house was in.
Coriolanus didn't like Juris. Even though Juris has himself a pretty flaxen blonde on his arm, the way he looked at you was dangerous. And the fact that the man seemed comfortable at your place of employment (internship, but practically the same thing) didn't go over well with him either.
Coriolanus decided that he needed to get you away from that dirty blonde man; he needed to make you dependent on him. And he needed to do those things because it was the only way to ensure that you'll join him back in the Capitol.
So, while you went about your midmorning in the apothecary, Coriolanus patrolled the streets while scheming up a way to get you fired. Hmm, maybe he could threaten the shopkeeper’s family? People seemed to do anything to keep their family safe.
Whatever he’s got to do to get you out of that shop, he’s going to do it. He was going to stop at nothing to have you on his arm as he stepped out of the train and onto the platform during his return to the best city in all of Panem.
The Capitol.
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ltash · 5 days ago
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The Bodyguard pt-3
Part 1 & 2 links below.
SimonGhostRileyxfemalereader
This chapter contains smut.
The days blurred together as you fell into a routine, your life now a monotonous cycle of office work and quiet nights at home. The looming threat of Diego still hovered over you, casting a shadow on your every move. As you went about your day, from the office to your home, you barely stepped out, your freedom restricted by the constant presence of danger.
Through it all, Ghost remained an unshakable constant in your life. His watchful eyes never strayed from you, his imposing presence always near, whether in the sterile corridors of the office or within the safe confines of your home. He was always there, a silent guardian, a protector who never wavered in his duty to keep you safe. The predictability of your routine was something he welcomed. It made his job easier, and as long as Diego's threat lingered, that was all that mattered to him.
But even Ghost couldn't ignore the way your eyes sometimes darkened with the weight of isolation, the loneliness creeping in when the days blurred together and you found yourself confined within these walls.
One evening, as you sat across from him in the quiet of the living room, the stillness broke. You looked up from your phone, your fingers lightly tapping on the screen as you spoke, the thought forming in your mind.
"I'm thinking about celebrating my birthday," you said, your voice a mixture of resolve and a hint of excitement. "I am arranging a birthday party."
Ghost's eyes flicked toward you, his expression unreadable behind the mask. He knew you'd been restless lately, but the thought of you hosting a celebration, opening yourself up to the world, filled him with a sudden tension. To him, it was more than just a party. It was a risk. A risk he couldn't control.
"Why?" His voice was low, almost cold, a sharp edge to it as he kept his gaze locked on you.
"I'm bored," you admitted, your voice betraying a weariness you hadn't shown him before. "It's taking a toll on my mind. I need to refresh. Something different. A change."
Ghost didn't answer immediately, his jaw tightening as he processed your words. He understood the need to break free from the monotony, but the thought of you surrounded by others, exposed, vulnerable, stirred an instinctive protectiveness within him. He wanted to say no, to shut the idea down entirely, but he also understood the weight of your restlessness. Still, it didn't make him feel any less uneasy.
"Who's gonna be there?" His question was blunt, his voice dropping an octave, tinged with suspicion.
"My friends, my uncle, aunts," you replied, your voice casual, though there was an underlying sense of tension. "Only immediate family. It's at a banquet near here. I've already picked the place. It's all set."
Ghost's eyes narrowed at the mention of the guest list. Immediate family, your inner circle, he noted. That minimized the potential risk, but it didn't erase it. It never erased it. His mind raced, calculating every angle, every possible threat. He wanted to argue, to insist that this was a bad idea, but he knew it wouldn't do any good. Tomorrow was already set in stone. The party was happening, and nothing he said could change that.
"It's tomorrow. I've already booked the hall," you added, as if reading the thoughts flickering in his mind.
Tomorrow. The date was already in place. Ghost's jaw clenched, frustration simmering under the surface. He let out a long, irritated sigh. The thought of you out there, in a crowd, exposed to God knows who, was almost more than he could bear. But he knew there was no turning back now. He wouldn't allow this to be a failure. He would make it work. He had to.
"What time?" he asked, his voice barely masking the tension that clung to his every word.
"Evening, around seven o'clock," you replied, not missing the tightness in his tone.
Seven o'clock. Ghost's mind shifted into overdrive. That gave him just enough time to secure the venue, to arrange for extra security, to make sure nothing could go wrong.
"I'll need a list of the guests," he said, his voice now firm, unwavering. "And I'll be picking you up from here. You ain't going alone."
The authority in his voice left no room for argument. It wasn't a request; it was an order. And as much as you knew he cared, there was something about the way he said it that only made the tension between you both more palpable. His protectiveness wasn't just a job-it was something deeper, something unspoken. It was clear that your safety came before everything else, even your own desires.
You nodded, feeling the weight of his concern settle between you. There was no escaping his vigilance, not now, not tomorrow. You wondered, fleetingly, if you ever could.
Days blurred into the usual rhythm, home, office, and back again, but tonight, the stillness had cracked. The celebration you'd planned was upon you, the banquet booked, guests invited, everything arranged. Ghost, though wary, had conceded to your determination. He gave a curt nod as you explained the details, though his expression betrayed nothing of the turmoil you knew was simmering beneath his composed exterior.
"I'll be there," he said, his voice rough. "Won't be far away. And you stick by my side. Got it?"
You gave a playful salute, trying to lighten the mood. "Got it, sir. Anything else?"
"Yeah. No alcohol," he said, locking his gaze with yours. "Don't need you gettin' drunk and makin' yourself an easy target."
Night fell, and the time had come. You slipped into a light blue, off-the-shoulder gown with a fitted bodice and a skirt that flowed like water as you moved. Sequins caught the light, adding a shimmer to each step. Clear Louboutin pumps with a crystal brooch completed the ensemble, sparkling under the glow of the porch lights as you stepped outside.
Ghost was waiting for you, leaning against the railing, his dark suit tailored to perfection, the usual ruggedness of his features amplified by the sharp cut of the fabric. His sleeves were rolled up, revealing tattooed forearms, a gun strapped in the holster on his chest, and a black medical mask covering his face. When he saw you, his eyes darkened, and he froze, momentarily taken aback.
"You drive," you said softly, your gaze lingering on him a bit longer than usual.
He shook himself from his trance and nodded, slipping behind the wheel with a stoic efficiency. As you settled into the passenger seat, he glanced over at you. "You look... stunning," he said, his voice rough and low.
You looked at him, taking in the tattoos on his arms, the subtle flex of his fingers on the wheel. Beneath the mask, his jaw was tense, his entire frame rigid with an alertness that never seemed to leave him.
When the banquet hall finally loomed in view, you glanced around. "Where's the security?" you murmured, frowning.
Ghost's eyes narrowed as he scanned the area, a flicker of worry passing over his face. "There should be security," he muttered. "Maybe they're blending in."
Unease prickled at your senses as he parked the car. His gaze was sharp as he met your eyes. "Stick close to me," he ordered, his voice tense.
Inside, the celebration came to life with laughter, warm greetings, and presents from your friends and family. Yet, Ghost remained in the shadows, watchful and vigilant. His gaze roamed constantly, flicking from face to face, tracking every exit, every darkened corner. He stayed nearby, a silent shadow, his presence more felt than seen.
The night continued, and soon, the cake was brought out. You smiled brightly as you cut it, feeling a rare warmth from the laughter and cheers around you. Ghost watched you, his gaze softening as he saw you happy, though his body remained coiled with tension, his senses alert for anything amiss.
After the cake, your friends and family drifted toward the dance floor, the lights dimming to cast playful shadows across the room. You lingered on the edge of the crowd, a cold drink in hand, enjoying the atmosphere. Ghost's figure loomed nearby, his intense gaze fixed on you through the sporadic lights, his body ready to move at any moment.
You caught his eye, gesturing briefly. "I need to use the restroom. Be right back."
Ghost's frown deepened, but he gave a curt nod. "Be quick," he said, his tone a gruff warning.
You slipped away, making your way through a quiet hallway to the restroom. Once inside, you took a breath, trying to shake the sense of unease gnawing at you. But as you turned toward the mirror, the door to the last stall opened, and a tall, dark figure emerged from the shadows.
You froze. The figure was draped in a black suit, his face obscured, yet an air of menace rolled off him in waves. Your heart plummeted as recognition washed over you.
"D-Diego?" You stammered, barely able to choke out the words.
A low chuckle answered you, sending a shiver down your spine. "Didn't expect to see me here, did you?" he murmured, a sinister amusement in his voice.
Your gaze dropped to his hand, where he toyed with a small needle, the glint of it sending another rush of fear through you. Your body tensed, a scream on the tip of your tongue, but before you could make a sound, his hand clamped over your mouth. You felt the sting of the needle as it pricked into your neck, and a wave of dizziness hit you hard.
Desperately, you clawed at his face, your nails digging in. He stumbled back, allowing you a moment to break free. Your vision blurred, but you forced yourself toward the door. Staggering out, you only made it a few steps before Diego's arm wrapped around you from behind.
"Ghost!" You screamed, your voice raw with terror.
The room spun as you heard a familiar voice, a shout that cut through the chaos like a blade. "Let her go!" Ghost's voice was laced with an icy fury, his gun raised and aimed.
Diego smirked, pulling you closer as a shield. "If you shoot, you'll hit her, too," he taunted, his voice dripping with malice.
But Ghost's aim was unerring. Without hesitation, he pulled the trigger, the shot ringing through the hall. Diego's grip released instantly as the bullet struck him. You stumbled forward, collapsing into Ghost's arms as a wave of chaos erupted around you.
The room exploded in panic, people rushing forward, cries, and gasps, filling the air. Your family and friends gathered around, and Ghost held you tightly, his face a mask of focused concern as he shielded you from the commotion. You barely registered Diego's lifeless form as Ghost whispered assurances, his tone soft but edged with a steely resolve.
Paramedics arrived quickly, and after a brief examination, you were given a medicine to counteract the effects of the sedative. You sat in Ghost's arms, still dazed, the night a dizzying blur of sounds and sights. Finally, the paramedics gave the all-clear, allowing Ghost to help you to his car.
The ride home was quiet. Ghost drove with a silent intensity, his jaw clenched, his eyes hard as he focused on the road. You sat slumped in the passenger seat, weak but grateful to be by his side. As you pulled up to your home, you looked over at him, tears gathering in your eyes.
"I'm sorry," you murmured, your voice barely a whisper. "I should have listened to you."
He glanced over, his gaze softening at the sight of you, vulnerable and regretful. "You don't need to apologize," he said, his voice a low rumble, filled with a tenderness he rarely showed. "Just... promise me you'll listen next time."
You nodded, and he gave you a small nod of approval. Even as he helped you inside, he was still the ever-watchful protector, but now there was a quiet understanding between you both. You were safe, and that was all that mattered to him.
Ghost pulled the car into your driveway, the rumble of the engine fading as he switched it off. The silence settled around you both, the only sound a faint chirping of crickets in the cool night air. He turned to you, his gaze intense, his voice low and gruff.
"Can you walk?" he asked, studying you carefully.
You nodded slowly, still feeling a lingering unsteadiness from the sedative. "I can try."
As you opened the door and stepped out, you stumbled slightly, the world around you tilting. But before you could sway too far, Ghost was right there, steadying you with a firm hand on your arm. "Take it slow," he said, his voice softened with a gentleness that surprised you.
You slipped off your heels, letting them fall to the ground, and began to walk gingerly toward your door, Ghost by your side every step of the way. His pace matched yours, his watchful gaze never leaving you.
Once inside, you made your way to your bedroom, finally stopping in front of your mirror. Staring back at you was a woman who looked as though she'd just weathered a storm-your hair mussed, your eyes slightly glazed, and your gown rumpled. You could feel Ghost's presence behind you, his reflection looming protectively, his dark eyes tracing over your figure with a kind of intensity that was both possessive and reassuring.
You looked at him through the mirror, biting your lip nervously. "Now that Diego's gone..." You hesitated, feeling vulnerable. "Will you... will you go back?"
His gaze met yours, unwavering and filled with a hint of conflict. After a moment of silence, he replied, "I don't know. I have... responsibilities."
The weight of his words hung in the air between you, and as he stepped closer, you could feel the warmth radiating from his body, almost brushing against your back.
A slight shiver went down your spine as you turned to him, your voice a whisper. "Can you... can you help me take this off?"
Without a word, he stepped forward, his large hands reaching for the zipper of your gown. His fingers brushed your bare skin, sending a wave of heat through you as he slowly, gently slid the zipper down, the fabric loosening as it pooled around your feet. You stood before him in nothing but lace and silk, feeling exposed and vulnerable yet strangely empowered under his piercing gaze.
His eyes darkened as they took in every inch of you, a raw hunger flickering in them that made your heart race. The air was thick with unspoken words, and you bit your lip, unable to meet his gaze directly. His hand brushed your waist, his touch firm yet tender, grounding you in the moment.
"Look at me," he murmured, his voice husky, his breath warm against your skin as he leaned in. "I want to see you."
Breathing heavily, you turned to him, lifting your hands to his face. Slowly, reverently, you reached up and gently removed his mask, exposing the face that had been hidden from you for so long. In that moment, as your eyes met his bare features, everything seemed to shift. The hard lines softened, revealing the man beneath the mask, the man who had risked everything to protect you.
"I want to see you, I want to see your face, I want to feel you your hands on my body without any barrier..." You bit your lip..
Your quiet, needy words sent a wave of heat through him. He could feel the desperation in your voice, the aching need for physical touch. He knew exactly what you were asking.
You traced your fingers on his lips.
"You are my most beautiful mistake that I want to do it again and again." You whispered.
The way you looked at him, the words you whispered, they stirred something deep within him. He wanted to draw you near, to kiss those words right off your lips. Instead, he clenched his fists, trying to rein in the overwhelming desire you stirred in him.
He paused, his hands still on your hips, his breath coming in short, laboured gasps.
Finally, he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. "Are you sure...?"
Your gaze softened, your breath catching as you reached up, bringing your lips closer to his. Your breaths mingled, the closeness making your skin tingle, and you pressed your lips to his in a soft, hesitant kiss.
Your hand found the back of his head as you fiddled with his soft hairs. Your lips found his. Your tongue flicked on his lower lip, tasting him.
The kiss ignited something within him. A low, guttural sound escaped his throat as he pulled you tightly to him, responding with a passion that took your breath away. His lips were firm yet yielding, moving against yours with a fierce tenderness, as though he were pouring everything he'd held back into this one moment.
"Make me yours before you go." You whispered as you broke the kiss.
He gripped your chin, "Tell me how much you want me." His voice a low growl.
"I want to succumb, I want to worship, I want to be utterly consumed by you."
He turned you around, and you looked at yourself in the mirror.
His hand came to wrap around your neck."You feel that?" He whispered in your ear as he pressed his growing bulge on your back.
You nodded.
"Good, girl!" He praised.
"You know what good girls do?" His breath hot against your ear. Hi nippled your earlobe.
His hand on your neck traced a path down towards your breast, his other hand coming to the front, squeezing your breast. His fingers circling, thumb brushing around your nipple.
Your head thrown back into his chest, low sensual sounds escaping your parted lips.
He nipped at the exposed skin of your neck. Slowly, he unbuttoned his shirt, peeling it off his body.
Your back hit the hard planes of his taut abs as you grabbed by your slender arms, his hands enveloping your arm easily.
"Will you be my good girl?" He whispered in your ear. His thick British accent, along with his husky voice, sent a shiver down your spine.
"Yes, Sir!" You nearly moaned. All your nerves were on fire.
His fingers traced your curves, reaching for your panty strap.
With one tug of his hands, your panties snapped, falling on the floor.
"Look at yourself in the mirror. You are a sight for sore eyes." His voice a husky murmur in your ear.
"Are you a good girl?" He asked again. This time, I give your ass a gentle squeeze.
"Yes, Sir!" You gasped sensualy. Your pussy going wet for him already.
"Hmmm! But you were such a bad girl not listening to me tonight. Weren't you?" He kissed your shoulder. His teeth grazed your sensitive skin.
"And you know what bad girls get?" He gently put your hands on the dressing bending you."They get spanked." His palm met your ass in clap.
"Aah!" You moaned. Your ass stung, but he soothed it with his palm.
He traced a line of hot, open-mouthed kisses along your back, trailing down the sensitive skin of your back, claiming it with each brush of his lips. A soft moan slipped from your lips, and his grip tightened around your waist, his touch firm, grounding, while you threw your head forward, surrendering to the pleasure he was coaxing from you with every touch.
He kissed you all the way down, hot kisses and cold air leaving goosebumps on your skin. His lips moved to the swell of your ass, and his teeth grazed your skin as he bit your ass.
Another sweet moan escaped your lips.
He licked a path up your back with the flick of his tongue.
Then his fingers tangled in your hair as he gently tugged your hairs pulling your head back.
"Look at yourself in the mirror." He ordered.
His hand traced a path down your your body and towards your soaking core.
"Already so ready for Daddy." He chuckled in your ear. Electric shocks jolted through your core as his finger made their way towards your soaking cunt tracing and teasing your clit.
"Oh, my god!" You let out a soft moan unable to contain yourself.
He continued with his ministrations, teasing your soaking wet pussy with his finger. The touch ignited a fire in your whole body.
He turned your face towards him and pressed his lips on you, drinking in your moans.
Ghost's body was on fire as he kissed you, each nerve alight as though it had come alive just for this moment. He was lost in the feel of you, his touch fervent, hands roaming with a possessive need to feel every inch of your skin under his palms. He couldn't get enough, couldn't stop. It was as if something in him had broken free, and there was no putting it back now.
The sound of your moans sent a thrill through him, and he couldn't help the deep groan that rumbled from his chest. He moved his lips to the hollow of your throat, nipping and sucking at the delicate skin, leaving faint marks that only he could give, marking you as his own. You could feel his smile against your skin as he murmured, his voice rough and heated.
"Get down on your knees."
You gasped, his hands tangled in your hair as he gently guided you down on your knees. He was pleased with how obedient you were, feeling your body respond so willingly.
"Good," he rasped, his tone possessive yet tender. "I want you to feel good. I want to make you feel good all night long." His hands travelled down to the buckle of his belt.
"Ready to show me how much of a good girl you are?" He smirked gently, holding  your chin.
You nodded slowly.
With deliberate slowness, he unbuckled his belt, drawing it free and letting it fall to the floor. His gaze never wavered from yours as he unzipped his pants and slipped them off, leaving only his boxers.
The sight of him, stripped of armour and defences, left you breathless. Your eyes traced over his body, every hard line and scar, the strength that lay beneath his skin evident in the ripple of muscle as he moved. Ghost watched you take him in, his eyes softening, catching the slight flush on your cheeks before he leaned back down, pressing his lips to your lips once more.
He stood up again. His cock hard against your lips as he teased you with the tip of his cock.
"Go ahead." He ordered. A michievious glint in his eyes.
Slowly you took his cock in your mouth, tasting the saltiness of his precum in your throat.
"You are doing so good. Good girl." He praised.
You stroked the full length of his cock with your hand.
"You are so good at this." He growled.
"Stand up." He ordered again. You slowly stood up.
In one swift movement, Ghost lifted you, wrapping your legs around his waist, his strength lifting you effortlessly. He carried you over to the bed, laying you down with a gentleness that was starkly contrasted by the raw intensity in his eyes. He hovered over you, his gaze dark, intense, the shadow of his desire unmistakable as he looked down at you, every inch of his expression promising he wouldn't leave you wanting.
Your body arched against him, a shiver coursing through you as his lips traced down to the curve of your chest. His mouth closed around your sensitive skin, his tongue circling your nipple before he took it between his lips, and you gasped, feeling as if every nerve in your body had come alive under his touch. One of his hands slid up, tracing along your waist, before he cupped your other breast, kneading gently as he continued his slow, intoxicating rhythm, his breath warm against your skin
He let out a low groan as he felt your hands tangling in his hair, guiding him closer, encouraging him. His mouth alternated between teasing, gentle flicks and firm, demanding kisses, his tongue tracing a trail that left your skin tingling. You could feel the fire building between you, and it only pushed him further, his hand tracing down to grip your hip, urging your body closer to his.
His kisses travelled lower, leaving trails of heat along your skin, the marks of his presence indelible on your body. Finally, he moved one hand down to your thighs, his fingers tracing lazy circles over the delicate skin there, savouring every shiver and gasp you gave in response. You could feel his breath quickening, mirroring your own, as his touch became more fervent, more insistent.
His touch was unhurried yet relentless, and as he kissed his way down, his arms wrapped around you, pulling you close, promising that this night belonged to you and him alone, every touch meant to leave a mark that would stay with you long after the night had ended.
Ghost moved with a languid intensity. His body in sync with yours caught up in the heat and urgency between you. Slowly, his lips trailing delicate, lingering kisses along your thighs, every touch sending ripples of anticipation through you. You stretched your legs out, placing your toes on his chest, tracing over the hard lines of his muscles, feeling the warmth radiating off him.
A shiver ran through Ghost's body as he felt your touch, the brush of your toes against his chest, igniting his already burning need. He continued to kiss his way up your thighs, his hands pressing firmly against your skin, moving closer and closer to where you needed him. His gaze drifted up to meet yours, his eyes smouldering with a blend of adoration and unrestrained desire. "You have no idea how much I want you right now," he murmured, his voice low and raw.
He returned to you, his lips pressing against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, his breath warm as he inched closer to your soaking cunt. He looked up at you, his hand firm on your thigh, feeling the tremor that betrayed your need.
"You're soaking wet," he whispered, his eyes darkening as he studied your reaction, savouring each shiver that rippled through you. "I need to devour you right now."
You bit your lip, gasping as his mouth finally found your most sensitive spot, his tongue tracing gentle circles that sent you spiralling into bliss. The intensity of the sensation left you clutching at the sheets, your moans filling the room. His name slipped from your lips, a raw, breathless plea that only seemed to fuel his need for you. He smirked, pausing only to murmur, "You taste so good," his voice rough and needy.
Without warning, Ghost lifted you, flipping you onto your stomach, his strength effortless. A small squeak escaped you as his large hands wrapped around your waist positioning you on your knees, your elbows resting on the bed. He ran his hands along your hips, pulling you close as he leaned in, his warm breath brushing against your ear.
"You look so beautiful like this, so ready to take my cock." he said, his voice thick with desire as he took in every inch of you beneath him.
He pressed himself against you, teasing your folds with the head of his cock, his hands firm on your hips. "You want this," he rasped, his tone almost a command. "You want me to fuck you breathless."
Your response was a desperate whimper, a plea that was all the encouragement he needed. He sank his cock into you slowly, letting you feel every inch of him as you stretched around him. "Aww, babe," you gasped, your fingers clawing at the sheets, "you're so big... I can't..." You trailed off, overwhelmed by the sensation.
Ghost leaned forward, hissing in your ear. "You can take it, and you're going to take it like a good girl," he growled, his words both a promise and a challenge. He began to move, each thrust slow and deep, letting you adjust to his size. The stretch was intense, but the pleasure only deepened with each movement.
"Fuck... oh my god," you moaned, your body arching as he filled you completely. "Simon, you're so big."
He responded with a low growl, his fingers tightening on your hips as he picked up his pace, each thrust driving into you harder, chasing both his pleasure and yours. "You feel so good around me," he groaned. "Such a tight little cunt so wet... I can't get enough of you."
Ghost leaned down, his lips pressing hot kisses against your neck, his hips snapping as he drove into you, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing in the room. He could feel you tremble beneath him, the sensation only heightening his own pleasure.
"You're so close, aren't you?" he whispered, his hand sliding around to your front, his thumb finding your clit. He could feel your body tensing, the telltale sign of your impending climax.
"Yes, yes, please, don't stop," you pleaded, your voice desperate.
"You're so perfect," he murmured, his voice rough with need. "I'm not going to stop, babe... not until you come undone."
Your head pressed into the pillow as the intensity peaked, tears slipping from your eyes, your moans filling the room. Ghost's movements grew more forceful, his hands shifting to grip you tightly, anchoring you as he chased his own release. He leaned down, his voice a rough whisper against your ear. "That's it, babe," he growled. "Let me hear you. Come for me."
He pulled you up, his hand wrapped around your throat, making you stand on your knees. His other hand held your hip, his fingers dug into your flesh.
As you reached your climax, he stayed with you, his hands wrapped around you, pulling you close, his own breath hot against your skin. The last of his control slipped as he reached his peak, his body shuddering against yours as he found his release, holding you close as he came undone with you. Ghost's breath was ragged, his movements became sloppy as he came inside you filling you with his cum.
You were complately spent. He gently lowered you beside him, pulling you into his arms, both of you wrapped in the warmth of each other's embrace.
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rosevette · 8 months ago
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·.༄࿔ TAKE ME TO PARIS part 2. my mlist
𝒋𝒐𝒉𝒏 𝒘𝒊𝒄𝒌 & 𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒒𝒖𝒊𝒔 𝒅𝒆 𝒈𝒓𝒂𝒎𝒐𝒏𝒕 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓
💋ྀིྀི résumé : the gifts won’t stop, along with john’s paranoia. he won’t even let you out of the hotel.
1.6k words + tags : dumb, ‘naive’ !reader, manipulation, fantasizing, smut, age gap, pet names, fingering, slight non-con, evil intent, brat-taming⭑
୭ৎ … im so sorry yall had to wait so long for this, but im finally finished !! more chapters to come, and I hope you enjoy…if there are any error, ignore! (part 1 here) - sincerely, rose
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DAYS PASSED, and John's concern only seemed to intensify. He hovered nearby constantly, his watchful gaze never leaving your side, his protective instincts kicking into overdrive. The gifts from Marquis didn’t stop either, a jewelry a day.
At first, you found John’s behavior endearing, a testament to his unwavering dedication to keeping you safe. But as time wore on, his constant vigilance began to chafe, leaving you feeling suffocated by his overbearing presence.
"I'm just going for a walk, John," you protested, attempting to slip past him as he stood guard by the hotel entrance.
His grip tightened on your arm, his eyes flashing with undisguised worry. "I can't let you out of my sight, not with him out there," he insisted, his tone firm and resolute.
Frustration bubbled up inside you as you shook off his hold, refusing to be caged like some delicate bird.
"I'm not a child, John. I can take care of myself," you snapped, storming towards the door, before the brooding man stopped you and held his position in front of the door.
“I said no.”
His voice was cold, you were getting on his nerves. Paranoid or not, he couldn’t let you go outside.
“Don’t make me repeat myself, my patience has already been thrown out the window.” He glared at you, you could tell he wasn’t joking, but you just can’t help but to talk back.
“You’re such a brute. You can’t keep me here fore—“ You widened your eyes, feeling a hand read gently on your mouth. Fluttering your eyelashes to John’s gaze, your face flushed, your eyebrows narrowing.
“Stop being a brat.” He murmured, his words slipping smoothly through his lips.
Before you knew it, his body already pressed against yours firmly, his weight leaning you against the flat surface of the wall, secluded in your room.
“I’m just looking out for you, is that so hard to understand?”
As John pressed you against the decorative wallpaper, his firm grip sending shivers down your spine, you couldn't help but feel a rush of adrenaline coursing through your veins. His proximity ignited a fire within you, stirring desires that had long lain dormant.
With a defiant smirk, you met his intense gaze head-on, the heat of his breath mingling with yours as you leaned in closer, the tension crackling between you like electricity.
"You're not my keeper, John," you countered, your voice laced with equal parts defiance and desire. "I can take care of myself."
But before you could utter another word, John's lips crashed against yours, his kiss fierce and demanding, leaving you breathless and dizzy with longing. His hands roamed your body with a possessive urgency, igniting a fierce hunger deep within your core.
“Do you understand what no means?” He leaned back, scoffing at your flushed state. Now turning your body around to face him, his eyes trailed your body top to bottom, your heart pacing, knowing what was next.
With a gasp, you melted into him, your resistance crumbling beneath the weight of his passion. Every touch, every caress sent waves of pleasure coursing through you, building to a fever pitch that threatened to consume you whole.
It didn’t take long until you felt his hands start to trail up your silk dress, his hand could be seen rubbing along your thighs through the thin fabric. Each whimper you gave was met with a smirk from John, only fueling his ego.
“Seems like this brat is already so wet for me. Is this what you wanted? To push my buttons to end up like this?”
Your breath hitched as John’s hands explored the curves of your body, sending sparks of pleasure coursing through you with every teasing touch. His words, though laced with arrogance, only served to stoke the flames of your desire, igniting a primal need that begged to be sated.
With a low whimper, you arched into his touch, unable to deny the intoxicating effect he had on you. “N-No I didn’t mean to I…,” you murmured, your voice dripping with seduction as you trailed your fingers along the contours of his chest.
The tension between you crackled with raw intensity, each touch, each whispered word fueling the inferno of passion that raged between you. Lost in the heat of the moment, his fingers eventually met contact with your wet folds, a moan slipping past your lips.
“J-John..” you croaked, squinting.
“I told you there would be punishments for your behavior.” You couldn’t even reply back in time when he had slipped a finger inside your wet hole, gasping into the air. A few pumps from his digits already made you a moaning mess.
Your words caught in your throat as John’s touch sent waves of pleasure crashing over you, rendering you speechless as ecstasy washed over you in dizzying waves. His fingers, skilled and knowing, delved deeper into your core, igniting a firestorm of desire that threatened to consume you whole.
Every pump, every stroke sent you spiraling closer to the edge, your moans echoing in the air as you surrendered yourself to the overwhelming pleasure that John bestowed upon you. His touch was like a drug, intoxicating and addictive, leaving you craving more with each passing moment.
He smirked, eventually pulling his fingers away to bring to his mouth, tasting you. You widened your eyes, wondering why he stopped as jaw hung open, your poor cunt soaked and wanting more.
John’s smirk only deepened as he savored the taste of your arousal on his fingers, his gaze locked with yours as he drank in your reaction with undisguised satisfaction. Your widened eyes and parted lips spoke volumes, your confusion and desire swirling together in a heady mix that only fueled his own arousal.
“Such a sweet little thing,” he murmured, his voice dripping with sinful promise as he leaned in close, his breath hot against your ear. “You want more, don’t you?” He laughed wickedly. This was your punishment. He wasn’t going to continue, he was going to make you wait for it.
He scoffed, leaving you breathless and aching for more as he reveled in the power he held over you. Your body throbbed with need, every nerve on edge as you craved his touch like a drug.
“Clean yourself up, darling,” he said casually, as if nothing out of the ordinary had just transpired between you.
Confusion and frustration warred within you as you struggled to make sense of his abrupt change in demeanor. Had it all been a game to him? A cruel joke at your expense?
With trembling hands, you gathered your wits about you, forcing yourself to stand on shaky legs as you attempted to compose yourself. But the memory of his touch lingered like a fever dream, leaving you reeling in its wake.
Now stepping out of the steaming shower, you sighed to yourself, thinking back to John’s advances just an hour ago. You should’ve known he had a trick up his sleeve just to toy with you.
Before you could dwell on the thought any longer, your phone rang, startling you out of your reverie. Glancing at the caller ID, you frowned in confusion at the unfamiliar number. Hesitantly, you answered, bringing the phone to your ear.
"Bonjour, ma chérie," a smooth voice purred from the other end, sending a chill down your spine.
"I hope I'm not interrupting anything." Recognition dawned on you as you realized who was calling. "Marquis," you greeted evenly, masking the tremor in your voice. “How did you find my number…”
"Ah, I know a guy," he replied, his voice dripping with honeyed charm. "Tell me, have you been enjoying my little gifts?"
Your heart pounded in your chest as you struggled to maintain your composure. "I appreciate the gesture," you replied tersely, forcing a note of indifference into your tone.
Deep down, you weren’t scared or threatened that the man called you, in fact, you welcomed it. Perhaps you could use this as payback for John?
The Marquis's laughter echoed in your ears, he had noticed your tone of voice . "Oh, ma chérie, you wound me," he purred. "But tell me, have you left Paris? I haven’t seen you anywhere…”
Yeah, thanks to John. You thought in your head.
“I simply admire beautiful things, and you, my dear, are the most exquisite masterpiece of them all. A shame I haven’t seen you since the auction.
Despite the danger and warning bells ringing in your mind, a rebellious spark ignited within you at the Marquis’s words. You couldn’t deny the thrill that coursed through you at the thought of defying John, of embracing the danger that lurked just beyond the shadows.
As the Marquis’s laughter echoed in your ears, you felt a surge of defiance welling up inside you.
“I’m still here, Marquis,” you replied, your voice laced with a hint of mischief. “And I must say, your absence hasn’t gone unnoticed either.”
There was a pause on the other end of the line, followed by a low chuckle that sent a shiver down your spine. “Ah, so you’re still playing games, ma chérie,” he murmured, his voice tinged with amusement. “I must say, I do admire your spirit.”
The Marquis’s laughter filled the air once more, a sound that sent a thrill of anticipation racing through your veins. “Well then, my dear,” he purred. “Let’s see just how far that taste for danger will take you.”
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the end ! part 3 in progress…
© rosevette 2024 . do not copy !
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nitaekook · 22 days ago
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Overdrive
by nitaekook | 1/? | NR | 3,186
Iwaizumi Hajime, a former MotoGP racer, struggles with life after a career-ending accident. Isolated and restless, he’s invited by Bokuto to an underground street race, where he unexpectedly encounters Oikawa Tooru. Watching Oikawa dominate the race with a custom-built car, Iwaizumi is impressed by his skill and drive. The thrill of the event stirs something in Iwaizumi, and though he tries to push it away, he can’t shake the pull of the racing world he thought he’d left behind.
-
I'm way too excited about this one. Hope you guys enjoy!
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concreteangel92 · 3 months ago
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Thou Shalt Not Kill- Chapter 7
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AU Noah Sebastian x female reader
18+
Summary: Reader is a detective and is assigned to a murder case which she soon connects with previous killings and figures out the religious affiliation, proving there is a new serial killer within the city. Reader soon becomes obsessed with the killers mind and methods and won’t rest until she figures out who the killer is. All while she gets used to working with her new partner on the case, detective Noah Davis.
Warnings: talks of murder/graphic killings, use of religion, serial killer, blood, gore, bad language
Chapter Index Here
I hope you enjoy this chapter and can see all the hidden lines, clues etc I’d placed throughout the story 🫢 this really is only the beginning though, think of it as the end of act 1 if you will 😏 and as always I can’t wait to hear your thoughts!!
Tags: let me know if you wish to be added!@Ima1986 @hayleylatour @reyadawn @thatchickwiththecamera @calleyx13 @millie-aubs @english-fucker @malerieee @ithoughtbynowidfeelbetter @softvgold @lilhobgobbler @glccmreid @badomensls @madomens @loeytuan98 @iluvmewwwww75 @rosebushjhj @livingdeceasedgirl @lilrubles @samanthasgone @blackveilomens @hellayeahsword @lookwhatitcost @doomhands-jr @nojoyontheburn @poisongirl616 @bakanerd @sacredthefran
MASTERLIST
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“Morning angel”
Your body froze and you felt your spine go cold at his words. There was only one other person who has called you that.
“Angel? No he can’t be serious….it must have been a mistake surely?”
Feeling Noah move more behind you, his arm tightened around your waist, no doubt feeling your tense body.
“Everything ok?”
You turned to look at him with a small smile, trying hard to relax your muscles down.
“Yeah, I’m good, are you ok?”
Noah stared into your eyes and gave you a cheeky smirk back.
“Well this is definitely one of the better ways I’ve woken up recently”
You were then suddenly very aware that you were both still naked under the blanket so you sat yourself up holding it to your chest.
“There’s no way it’s Noah, it can’t be”
“Yeah, it’s ahh…different to normal. Although seeing as it’s now gone 7, I better start getting ready”
Noah cocked his head to the side with his brows knitted together with a frown on his lips as he continued to stare at you.
“You sure you’re ok?”
You put a big smile on your face and leant in to kiss him which he instantly returned.
“Yeah, just nervous to give my statement….and have my ass handed to me over going in alone yesterday, it was pretty stupid. I’m going to jump in the shower so…I’ll see you at work?”
Noah gave you a small smile and nodded his head.
“Of course, I’ve got to go back to mine before work anyways”
You stood up, still holding the blanket to your body and averted your eyes as Noah simply stood up completely naked with a smirk on his face.
“Don’t get all shy now babe, last night was just a taster of what’s to come”
Despite the uneasy feeling in your stomach, you felt your cheeks go warm at his statement. You waited while Noah got himself dressed and picked up his things before he turned back to you and pressed another kiss onto your lips.
“I’ll be seeing you later”
••••••
After getting yourself ready, you made the drive to work, your mind in overdrive the whole way.
“He’s never called me angel before, why today? He can’t be the killer….there’s no way!”
*
“You know, I’m really impressed that you figured this out, that they were all connected, I doubt anyone would have seen that”
“Are you religious at all detective?”
“I understand that. My family were religious but I never took to it, as you said, I believe in what I can see, hear, smell….touch. Somethings I don’t think god would approve of”
*
Parked up at the station, you took a moment to breathe in your car away from everyone, the tension from this morning still very much present in your shoulders.
“He was raised with a religious background but doesn’t believe it as an adult…why?”
*
“Similar in a way, I was in a car accident with my dad when I was eleven, I only had minor injuries but my dad….he passed away on the scene. The driver that hit us was never caught. I wanted to come into the force to make sure justice was done correctly, for my dad”
*
“His father…that’s when he stopped believing”
You took one more deep breath before you grab your bag and got out of the car to head into the station.
You made your way quickly down the hall, not in the mood to talk to anyone when you heard sergeant Matthews calling out your name.
“Detective Y/L/N. My office please”
Stopping in your tracks, you braced yourself and turned to go into his office.
You stood in front of his desk with your fingers fiddling with each other subtly, waiting for the absolute bollocking you knew was coming.
“Look sir, I know yesterday was bad…”
“Save it Detective”
He let out a frustrated sigh.
“You have been a crucial member of this team for a long time, you certainly know better than to charge into a potentially hostile environment with no back up! What the hell were you thinking?!”
You looked at the desk in front of you before slowly bringing your eyes up to his disappointed gaze.
“I don’t know….I guess I just wasn’t thinking, I just…”
“You’re damn right you weren’t thinking! You could have got yourself killed or others if they had to do a rescue mission to save your ass!”
Sergeant Matthews took another deep breath, clearly thinking of his next words.
“I know this case has taken its toll on you detective, the brutality of it alone has been nothing like we have ever seen. It’s clear to everyone in this office that it’s affected you mentally…but I cannot ignore such a blatant disregard to follow simple orders, not when it endangers the live’s of others….I’m taking you off the case, your gun has already been retrieved from the crime scene and I’d like you to hand over your badge”
Your head snapped up.
“You can’t do that!”
His gaze was firm.
“I just did”
“But sir you don’t understand!”
Sergeant Matthews stood up tall while resting his hands on his desk.
“Enough! My decision is final, you are off the case for good, I don’t want you to have anything to do with it, is that clear?!”
“But I think I….”
“IS THAT CLEAR?”
Tears brimmed your eyes as you nodded in defeat, a feeling of complete sorrow flooding your body.
“Yes sir”
You took your badge from your jacket pocket and put it on the desk in front of him.
“Take some time off detective, clear your head…properly. Then we shall discuss you coming back in the future”
You nodded in silence and walked out quietly, you glanced around the team to see that Noah was nowhere to be found.
•••••••
*
“Yes. There is no way a woman would be able to pull this off alone, she would need help and I just have a feeling this is done by one person, a man. An incredibly strong man I might add”
“Nothing yet I’m afraid, who ever this guy is, he certainly knows how to cover himself, but it’s early days…”
*
You had made it back to your apartment, still in shock that you’d been removed from the case, glancing at your laptop in your bag, you wondered if they had restricted your access yet.
“Worth a shot”
You sat down at the desk in your home office and opened up your login, to your surprise it worked! You knew it wouldn’t be long though so you decided to act fast and start copying the files onto a memory card, no way were you completely done with this case.
“I’m missing something I know I am….the victims are all so different but something must connect them surely?”
*
“What are you doing here? How do you even know where I live?”
“Sorry I got your address from your file…”
*
“File…”
It suddenly clicked in your mind to check the police records for all of the victims names, to see if they were on file.
You went through each name one by one in the police database, each time finding out that each of the victims in the case had all been arrested at some point in their lives.
*
•Nina Platt - rape allegations
•Oliver Wicks - petty theft
•The married couple - possession of drugs
•The twins - arrested for fighting when they were younger
•Geoff Birch - known con man
•And the two people having the affair had also been arrested in their past for petty crimes
*
“So that’s how he done it…he used his access to search for their fingerprints to find them and see their history”
*
“All I’m saying is that clearly detective Y/L/N isn’t up for the job, have you seen her recently? She looks like she’s not slept in weeks and isn’t making the right decisions. If I had her position, I’d be doing things so differently, maybe then we’d actually be getting somewhere in this case”
“Do you like my little gift for you angel?”
“How did you even know about him?”
“I have my ways.”
*
You felt sick to your stomach as it really started to dawn on you what was happening.
Each one of the victims had been found on the database…office Blake….was first hand, an impulsive decision on his part.
You felt your breathing increase as you started to piece it all together in your mind.
*ding*
The sound of an email coming through pulled you out of your thoughts, you went into your work email and saw it was one of your officers, they’d sent a link to another case file.
*
“I’ve been thinking that we need to widen our search, who’s to say that the killings started in LA? For all we know, this guy could have moved around, killed before but has never been caught…”
*
Your eyes scanned over the email, taking his the new information…
•Anthony Jackson
•Male
•53 year old
•Found dead in his own apartment slumped at the dinner table, his heart had been removed and was placed in front of the body.
•Resided in Richmond, Virginia US
*
“Detective Noah Davis. New to station within the last month but had an excellent recommendation from his old station in Richmond, Virginia…”
*
“Why this guy? Who was he to you?”
That sickness feeling was manifesting into a very physical thump in your throat, your body was getting warmer and you felt the need for a very strong drink.
*
“How else do you get the message across?”
“And what is the message?”
“To dethrone god”
*
Your head fell into your hands as the realisation hit, you shut your eyes and tried to control your breathing again, your partner on the case, the man you’d come to find a true comfort and a friend. He was the 10 commandments killer.
“What’s the matter detective? Found anything interesting?”
You jumped up at the sound of Noah’s voice to see him standing in the doorway, leaning up against it casually.
Your heart pounded inside your chest, you had to remain calm so you tried to keep your expression neutral.
“Noah…how did you get in here?”
You noticed his appearance was very casual, black long sleeved turtleneck top, black trousers and he had on a pair of black leather gloves.
“The door was unlocked. You really should be more careful, no idea who could be lurking about”
You forced a smile as he stared at you, not once faltering in his gaze.
“It’s been a mad day…I obviously wasn’t paying attention”
You subtly, slowly and instinctively went to reach for your gun on your hip, for your fingers to find nothing.
“Shit! My spare is in my bedroom”
Noah’s eyes had followed your movements, a small smirk starting to form on his lips as he uncrossed his arms and stood up fully.
“What’s the matter, you look nervous?”
You started to slowly step around your desk, trying desperately to think of away around him to get to your room.
“Nervous….why would I be nervous?”
Noah laughed.
“Oh come now detective, don’t let me down now. My little slip up this morning was very…unfortunate”
You stared back into his eyes, no doubt in your mind that he knew, you now knew.
“Although it wasn’t part of the plan yet, here we are…a very….tricky situation”
His words sounded completely menacing as he took another step closer.
“Stay away from me….I know who you are….and you’re not going to get away with this”
Noah laughed once more.
“Oh yeah? And how are you going to stop me?”
Noah suddenly lunged at you, you tried your hardest to dodge him and to get out of his grip but it was too late, Noah’s hand had brought a sweet, chemical smelling cloth to cover your mouth and nose and you knew it was over as you felt your body becoming weaker as you breathed it in.
“Shhhh I’ve got you angel”
You tried to stay awake, but your attempts to fight back slowly came to a stop as your body became limp and your vision went black.
Chapter 8
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anika-ann · 7 months ago
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Back and Forth - part 6.1
Part 6 - Back-Up 1/2
Type: series; agent!reader, inhuman!reader
Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader    Word Count: 7500
Chapter summary:  In which the rescue party arrives for you and Steve... and Steve reflects back to the time in captivity. With you.
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Series masterlist
Warnings: mentions of sensory overload, mentions of mental health issues, canon-typical violence, blood, violent thoughts, mentions of death, mentions of pain and unhealthy relationship to pain, mentions of chronic pan and chronic illness, questionable medical procedures, feels, language
A/N: ALWAYS MIND THE WARNINGS; dividers by @firefly-graphics 💕; moodboard is for the vibes and does not necessarily reflect reader’s appearance
A/N2: To the surprise of no one but me, we're getting anotehr two-part chapter. Ah well.... we get Steve's POV in return! Enjoy ✨
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Being overwhelmed was far from a foreign state to Steve Rogers.
In fact, given his history, he would have thought he had seen it nearly all – and not only seen.
Earning enhanced senses, after having lived for over two decades with his sight and hearing impaired due to a long list of illnesses, equalled sudden sharp clarity and cacophony of overwhelming noise of all colours, tastes and smells. As welcomed as the change had been, since his body was finally widely regarded as useful enough, the transformation came as a package deal with an occasional sensory overload even after all the years he had had to adjust.
Enhanced memory, too, came with a price; with a crushing amount of detail laced into heart-warming memories as well the terrifying and painful ones, trapping him in his mind at times, during daylight as much as during night-time when he had less control over his own thoughts.
Assuming the title and mantle of Captain America, be in the past century or in the new millennium, was tied to a whole another source of overload, both mental and physical.
So truly, Steve was rather used to being overwhelmed in various senses of the word, handling it better at certain times and worse at others.
And yet – the past few hours were overwhelming in an entirely new sense, indescribable and as corporal as intangible.
Perhaps it was you.
Perhaps it was him being back to a regular human, even if not quite.
Perhaps it was becoming part Inhuman.
Perhaps it was everything hitting him at once on whole new scale he was not used to.
His brain was in a hazy overdrive by now; a strange fog and clarity, thoughts crawling in and dragging painfully and at lightning speed at once. Onslaught of emotions. Body drained from fighting a non-existent gunshot wound as well as a real one, still processing what he had experienced – and what he had learned.
Steve tried to push it all away and think hard how to help instead,despite your agonized scream still echoing in his ears pilling misery on top of his own – but spite could only get him so far.
The rollercoaster of the past hours was taking a true toll on him; and it was almost ironic that while his body had partially regressed to one of a regular human, it was the emotional and mental load that seemed to drain him hundred times more severely than the physical exertion – and overwhelmingly indeed.
Steve wasn’t one to cut himself some slack often, but perhaps he deserved it this time. And perhaps he would grant himself the luxury – once this endless, horrible experience only fool might call an adventure was over.
Seconds had felt like hours. Hours had felt like days. And every soul on Earth had better believe that Steve had been counting, trying to scramble for any resemblance of control, even as he had none.
Counting seconds, in thousands, hoping you hadn’t been taken too; then, that if you had been taken, that you were close to him somewhere. Then, praying that you were at least still alive, anywhere.
Yet, to have his second and third wish fulfilled brought no real joy and only a speckle of relief, because he had been taking stock; and while he knew you were nearby, he had no idea where you two actually were.
What he had known for quite a while was that something was wrong. He had known the moment when he first woken up, tied and chained – but that wasn’t exactly a new, let alone useful piece of information.
Helplessness and uncharacteristic weakness were everything but a good feeling too. Those didn’t look on anyone; but for a man of his past, feeling like having regressed to the weak body he used to own – and to have that happen in the least convenient moment possible, in the moment where he needed to be stronger than ever – forged the heaviest chain of all. One wrapped around his neck and tightening with every second ticking off.
And the crushing waves of emotion wouldn’t cease coming. Not to you; clearly, understandably.
And most definitely not to him.
Your panicked frustrated voice when you couldn’t project, cutting right through anger and frustration he himself felt but for entirely different reasons. A creeping suspicion he didn't dare to speak of, even as ‘impossible’ was a word Steve barely bothered to keep in his vernacular these days.
Then, your shared shock when the impossible turned out to be true; the briefest feeling of belonging and connection. He gripped onto that and used that to stomp on his doubts, anger and fears – because he had to. For your benefit. For the benefit of you both.
He slipped into the role of a leader because you deserved that.
You needed reassurance and guidance so you could rediscover that incredibly brave and capable person he knew; only to have the rug pulled right under your feet as soon as you found your footing, sending you literally to the ground – and sending Steve down a rapid spiral of chocking panic when he heard not one but two gunshots from your cell.
A heavy thud.
Complete, terrifying silence, interrupted only by his own deafeningly pounding heart before he managed to find his voice at least to defend you with words.
If there was anything to defend still.
The confident leader façade he had put on despite feeling lost cracked like an empty eggshell. A suffocating weight found seat on his chest instead, rage smouldering. His own thundering shouts contrasted starkly to the silent promise he made, to whoever was able to listen – that if Hydra had---  if you were-- he'd tear them apart with his bare fucking hands and it didn’t matter he couldn’t do that now, even if the fire in his veins burned all the hotter for that. He couldn’t do a single damn thing; trapped like a pathetic little human quivering and jerking his body in laughable attempt to free himself from bounds some cruel god had trapped him in.
He barely felt the jolt of sharp pain aside from the initial tug, as something in his shoulder snapped along with one of the many chains, but he did feel a stab of that pain with every other yank, exhausting and fuelling him at once.
You still made no sound; no scream, no whimper, nothing to latch his hopes onto. Had he had the capacity, he would blame the burning of tears in his eyes on the physical pain as not to let Hydra see he cared.
But he was beyond that. That was the damn least important of his problems at the moment. You were at the forefront and if he had thought seconds had felt like hours before, they felt like days at that moment.
And you were still silent.
Steve way beyond caring what information regarding his rather complicated relationship to you he’d give away. But he wasn’t above begging. Not when it was his responsibility to protect. To save. Not when it was you. Not when he hadn’t even had the chance to-
Please.
Please.
The suffocating relief at hearing your voice diluted his panic a fraction, but only accentuated the utter helplessness of his position; his hands literally tied, while you were stuck hanging with your life on a thread and having to help yourself, just so you wouldn’t bleed out in a cell right next to him.
God, the love and hate he had for your spite, for all the fight left in you, even if directed against him as you verbally snapped back. Fuck, so be it, he thought, even as his voice didn’t listen to him at all, barking orders he had wished he could have executed himself. So be it, just hold onto that fight in you.
And then, the most heartbreaking crack in your voice when you begged him.
Begged him not to make you do what you had to in order to survive.
You couldn’t have had the slightest clue about the firm grip you took on his heart that moment, how hard you squeezed and how violently you tugged – and it wasn't important. Nor was Steve’s acute need to grab you, hold you tight and somehow save you, sweep you away, to do the impossible task for you, to take away even the littlest fraction of your burden, somehow.
Projecting to you, as surreal as it was, was ironically the first thing that felt right in the past hours; even as the image of you, frail despite having just proven immense strength, was all kinds of wrong.
Steve hated fighting with you but seeing you there in a pool of blood, he would have taken hundreds of fights. It was almost funny that you hadn’t fought him about going to the gala, only protested in front of Tony – because Steve would love to take on that fight now, travel back in time and for all the sweet moments of holding you and talking to you, he'd let you win that fight and would have never gone to that damn place. Not if this was the outcome. The gorgeous image you had been only few hours prior kept flickering in Steve’s mind like a firefly teasing him to follow, to try to catch it, only for its light to die out and show dark crimson soaking the remnants of your dress instead.
The reason for trying his hardest to be soft when he treated you wasn’t guilt, even as he knew that this, all this wouldn’t have happened if it hadn’t been for him and it laid heavy on his conscience.
He'd treat you with utmost care possible in the conditions anyway; but his conscience made for his shaky hands. His conscience and the sight of you so ashen, a ghost of the stunning woman he had shared a dance with, the stubborn brave woman he worked with. He hoped his damnest that you didn't notice the tremble: he couldn’t afford that. You needed his support. You needed a rock to lean your weight onto even as he felt like a pebble that would fall apart to sand if someone squeezed it in their palm.
And he was so damn proud of what you had accomplished – proud and relieved – his respect for you growing tenfold. Grateful when you brushed over the slip of his tongue, smiling even, showing your humour even when he had let the endearments slip from his lips.
The tug on his heart at that was gentler this time, but no less insistent. The sheer trust in your eyes, the careful nuzzle into his touch when he crossed ever boundary possible because he needed to touch you, was a balm to his soul and acid at once, because maybe this was the only moment he’d get to touch you like this. Maybe that effort was fruitless and you two wouldn’t make it out. Maybe you would, but you’d quit, rushing back to Coulson’s team. Maybe you’d stay, but the wall that seemed to always be between you, preventing you from understanding each other, from listening, from growing closer, would only grow higher.
And yet; Steve revelled at the brief sensations, because he viscerally needed to feel that you were still there, not slipping away.
And then you did.
And so did he, the gaping hole in his chest burning and suffocating even as his flesh seemed unharmed, even if within seconds, his arm wasn't.
Bewilderment. Pain. And then that goddamn hope that this was just him – this was him feeling the pain, a little extra revenge from the artifact that had switched your powers for the effects of his serum. The faint hope slowly cracking as his mind filled with images of you wincing, hunching, grimacing in moments when you had probably thought no one was looking, barely visible but always there after having been hurt in your spectral form.
Then, all worry and wondering briefly forgotten as he preened, bewildered all over again but no less pleased of how high you regarded him, much higher than he deserved and certainly higher than he had ever thought. The threads of connection to you he had felt before solidifying and hardening in a difficult moment.
Understanding, a warm one – and then another, ice cold, turning below freezing. Your barely audible voice responding to questions charged with emotions Steve could barely contain with a battle raging within him. Because you had kept a painful secret. More than one.
Not where I come from.
Determination.
Admiration.
Compassion and affectionate sense of belonging, born anew; the understanding of one achy heart of another.
A promise he wasn’t sure he'd be able to keep when they barged into his cell and yours – and made him slip back into desperation and rage and self-hatred for his inability to project again and protect at least if not save. Steve hated himself for the swirl of pride in his chest when you refused to give up, trying to stall, to make them talk... until you couldn’t be brave anymore. Until you were begging him to stop trying to help, scared for yourself no doubt; but the fear for him, the stubborn conviction that it was your duty to protect the paradigm of perfection and virtue with speckless of recklessness and stubbornness you apparently thought he was, dripped from your quiet breathy voice.
A breathless I'm sorry, Steve, tearing a fresh gaping hole of panic in Steve’s stomach at the resignation in your voice speaking so painstakingly clearly of how you thought these were your final words to him.
“I’m sorry, Steve.”
Fuck everything.
Not in this damn life, not on his damn watch.
Steve squeezed his eyes shut and forced himself to goddamn at least try to block the pulsing pain and project again, heedless of your request, not caring if it tempted the Hydra agents in his cell to shoot him again – because there no universe in which he'd just stare into Hydra’s face and listened to your end and did nothing.
And then, at least, overwhelming relief flooding his veins; faster than his actual thoughts, since he was at his wits end.
The realization that it wasabout to be over was dull and intense, sudden as much as unexpected.
He registered the ground shaking under his feet barely seconds before two Avengers blasted through the door of his cell, only having just connected the dots as to what a sudden earthquake could mean besides a movement of tectonic plates.
Agent Daisy Johnson. Quake. The Inhuman with ability to feel and control vibrations, natural frequency of particles in every living and non-living thing. It flashed through Steve mind like a lightning; he hoped she’d quake Hydra agents’ bones apart.
But she wasn’t the one to appear in front of him as the sounds of repulsors hit his ears instead, a deadly shadow of enraged Winter Soldier knocking the two Hydra agents down as they still clutched on their fresh wounds caused by the Ironman himself.
Steve had never been so relieved to see a man in a metallic suit to leisurely walk into the room, his mask clicking open as the dust settled, revealing a half-smile, half-smirk.
The pressure in Steve’s chest, however, barely eased. Sharp pain still radiated from his non-existent and yet very real gunshot wound, as well as the one on his arm, and from the shoulder he had likely dislocated during his most intense fight against the maddeningly unyielding chains; his ribcage felt all the tighter not only for all that, but for the lingering anger and feeling of utter helplessness as he had been stuck and stunned while you had been tortured in ways he didn’t want to imagine but would haunt his nightmares anyway.
It crashed into his mind anew even as it had never left, a wake-up call snapping his from his haze.
Steve was overwhelmed to death and tired just as much, but it was still nothing compared to how injured you were.
And that was why the first thing he choked out through the tightness in his chest and throat, gaze burning into Tony’s irritatingly calm face was:
“She needs immediate med evac!”
“Hello to you too,” Tony hummed with what almost seemed as amusement, eyeing the chains with raised brows, and made his way to him.
Series of cries and crashes sounded from behind the wall, making Steve wince, head snapping the direction just as the ground shook again, a thud and something that distinctly sounded like breaking of a bone amplified tenfold causing his heart to stumble in his chest in fear. He knew sounds of a fight when he heard it; and while he knew that was a good thing – the recue party being able to what you couldn’t at the moment, exactly what he had wished for barely five seconds ago – it didn’t mean his body wasn’t vibrating with need to move to join that very fight.
And Tony was still walking to him calmly, without care in the world but seemingly with all the time there was in it, as if you hadn’t been shot twice, bleeding out, the only thing disturbing Tony from his walk of fame being a stray bullet from a Hydra agent who got punched to his face for the trouble, and that was distinctly your voice whimpering and Tony was just-
Steve yanked at the cuffs stubbornly, gritting his teeth when the action made his shoulder throb, little spots dancing at the edge of his vision – fresh wave of dread and rage pooled in his gut and made his vision laser sharp, much like his voice.
“Goddammit Tony, I’m serious! She’s-”
“We know Steve,” Bucky said evenly, worried gaze trailing over Steve’s body as he himself was twisting one of the goon’s arm behind his back in what Steve knew was a very painful angle. Good, he thought fleetingly, these bastards deserved to suffer. “Johnson managed to hack the cameras with Friday’s help as soon as we located you. The emergency team is ready...”
Almost pointed brief silence followed Bucky’s words, the noise of battle dying out, followed by gentler sounds; shuffling, gasps, voices speaking quietly; worried and disturbed, but firm.
Bucky smiled a bit. “And I'm sure Spectre’s getting medical attention as we speak.”
Steve’s eyes slipped shut as he took a wavering, agonized breath as his own wound cried for attention – but the violence in him, having been brewing for hours now, didn’t subdue. Your screams still echoed in his skull, even with his momentary memory working as one of an almost ordinary human.
He’d never forget that sound – not when you screamed the first time when they had shot you.  Not when you screamed just a few moments ago when they had done god-only-knows-what to bring you more pain.
He felt the curse roll off his tongue, acute desire to swear on Bucky and Tony and others for having wasted time hacking secured feed and watching as the wicked voices from behind the wall hurt you more, instead of rushing to the rescue faster – but in the back of his mind, he knew all too well they had done their best. Because they always did – especiallywhen not one, but two of them had fallen into Hydra’s clutches.
Steve knew that; but a lot of good that had done, hadn’t it?
Couldn’t they have just— if they had only arrived at least a few moments earlier, flown in faster, infiltrated the base more effectively, if Steve had pulled harder, if he had been able to focus a little further and project again, shield you, because apparently, he wasn’t about to bleed out or suffocate upon being shot to his damn chest in the spectral form even if it felt that way-- and had he had set himself on the death road by catching another, very real bullet, it wouldn’t have mattered because at least he’d be able to do something, goddammit, instead of being a sitting goddamn duck.
“Didn’t anyone tell you sleeveless shirts got out of fashion and were never actually fashionable, Cap?” Tony noted, seemingly unbothered and completely blind and deaf to Steve’s inner turmoil.
As Steve snapped his eyes open and shot him a murderous glare, he saw a flash of worry and anger in his friend’s face.
Distantly, Steve remembered that this was how Tony coped when he was overwhelmed himself.
Responding would have been a waste of breath and would have blocked the precious noise from behind the wall, telling Steve that you were indeed being taken care of, probably having already carried away while others took care of Doctor Barret and other excuses for human beings that had been in the cell with you.
You were being treated. You had the serum – or some version of it anyway. You’d be fine.
Even as ‘fine’ was the last word he’d use to describe the utter shitshow that had taken place in this base. Nothing about what had happened here was fine, even as there were fractions of it that Steve would now always cherish; too bad they were overweighted by the ton of things he’d rather never think of again but stuck to his memories like molasses to his fingers.
The pain from your spectral wounds lingered? You had always felt like this, even if no one could see a scratch? Could you still feel the wound from two weeks ago when you had been retrieving the data Hydra had planted now, as you had two actual gunshot wounds to your thighs, so poorly taken care of, wrapped in the missing sleeves Tony was mocking? Was it like that? As if it wasn’t enough that blood was no doubt seeping through the fabric still, and maybe they had pushed against those, poking-
Jesus Christ.
“This might hurt a bit,” Tony warned him, kneeling next to him and frowning at the chains again, clearly wondering about the safest and fastest way to remove them.
Steve automatically sighed a thank you as Tony’s metal-clad hands moved to break the metal with sheer strength, before Steve turned his gaze to Bucky again, the question nudging insistently on his brain; a phantom image of you, dressed in what had been a breathtaking gown soaked in blood, torn and dusty, pristine white cloth coloured crimson around your thighs, face distorted in agony even when he had tried his best to work in the gentlest way possible. God, the undiluted innocent trust in your eyes-
“How long you’ve been watching? What did they— they hurt her further. How?”
Bucky met Steve’s intense gaze, his own disapproving and resigned at once – a silent conversation not longer than two second took place. Bucky clearly didn’t want Steve to know, aware it would only twist the figurative knife in his gut, the knowledge of whatever had happened in the other room torturing him, feeding his blame for simply having sat there while you had suffered.
He was right. But Bucky was just as well-aware of the fact Steve would find out anyway; hell, Bucky probably thought Steve would watch the footage just to learn.
And he was damn right.
So he came to the correct conclusion that it was better to just tell. And Steve was grateful, even as he braced himself for a figurative punch to his stomach.
“Long enough to know not to mess with the artifact. Johson cursed like a sailor when she saw it,” Bucky said slowly, pausing as he cuffed the other Hydra agent. Steve’s eyes kept burning a hole into his head as Bucky glanced at him again, no doubt hoping Steve would change his mind. Vainly – but he hadn’t expected as much. His weary sigh told Steve that. “They restrained her so she couldn’t escape the touch of the artifact, even though they never got to that part. They forced her on her knees. She had to put her weight on her legs-“
Steve gritted his teeth as inferno of pure fury exploded inside him, flooding his strained muscles with power; his hands curled into fists, his left hand, still trapped, breaking the last remaining string on metal on him with ease when he pushed his whole body into a single tug.
He was going to smash their faces.
He was going to break every little bone in the sleazy Hydra bastard who sounded like he was revelling in your cries and he was going to enjoy it-
“Cool it, Rambo,” Tony said flatly, the thinnest thread of satisfaction lacing his voice nevertheless. “We get it, you’re mad as hell, but we need to take care of you too. You can go all John Wick on them later. You don’t have your usual strength, you’ve been shot, have about a thousand cuts, those shoulders of yours don’t look as hot as usual either and you breathe like you have at least five broken ribs,” he listed, surprisingly accurate. Not that Steve cared. He didn’t need to be enhanced nor in full strength to release the violence he was now brimming with; he had seen ordinary humans commit unspeakable crimes with their bare hands. He could do the same if he pleased. And it would – please him, that was. They had hurt you; and then they hurt you further, just because they could, when you couldn’t even defend yourself, when he was right fucking there- “Come on, Cap. Let’s leave this shitshow behind.”
Two of Coulson’s agents whom Steve vaguely recalled by name – Agent Mackenzie and Agent May – strode in, taking the two Hydra agents off Bucky’s hands. Bucky was by Steve’s side in a blink of an eye, helping him up; it honestly surprised Steve how much he had to appreciate that, his legs wobbly, the world a little hazy at the edges of his vision causing him to grip on Bucky’s arm, the pressure transferring to the centre of Steve’s chest and causing him to wheeze silently at the fresh burst of pain.
Okay, shit, maybe giving Hydra hell could be postponed a bit-
“Easy, pal. You’ll be okay, but you really look like hell now,” Bucky said, Steve involuntarily proving his point when his left knee gave out momentarily, the only thing saving him from falling being Tony’s swift reaction as he supported him from other side. When had he got so light-headed? “Yeah okay, maybe walking isn’t the best idea-“
“I’m fine.”
He was. Definitely in an infinitely better state than you.
“Sure you are, pal, and I’m the President-“
“Stark, don’t, the situation is horror-like enough as it is,” Bucky huffed, helping Steve hobble. “You stumble again, I’m carrying you bridal style, punk. Then we figure out how to reverse the effect of that damn thing and-“
“No!” Steve cried out on instinct, energized at once – and earning glances shocked enough to elaborate. “I mean… there’s enough time for that. I’m… not fine, but I’m alright enough. We need to make sure the change is safe first. We… we don’t know how exactly it works. And trial and error is not an option.”  
It was not. There was no chance in hell Steve was going to test whether you’d be able to hold on without the serum with the injuries you had even in a controlled medical environment, and that was just one of his concerns. There were several others.
Where Tony was satisfied with his explanation, Bucky’s gaze lingered on him, a silent question he didn’t have to voice, because he already knew the answer; a fond and exasperated faint smile formed on his face.
You want the healing factor to do its work before you switch it again, don’t you?
Damn right Steve wanted that.
His feet might feel heavy, blood-flow restoring only now as he had moved the stiff muscle, but his brain was still working – and there was no way he’d touch that damn artifact with a ten-feet pole until he knew you were stabilized at least. Preferably later, because God knew Bucky was right; Steve might be aching all over, but you most definitely needed his healing factor a lot more at the moment.
And if there was the slightest chance that artifact might mess with either of you and your powers further, that was just more reason – one Steve would gladly share and point out at the reason – to wait.
The switch would be attempted – for sure.
The chance was probably never going to be a clean zero and the mere idea of staying this way – without an essential part of him, the part of him that enabled him to fight for what he believed in – was paralysing, no matter that he would have had a different and very useful power in return. He imagined that beside the healing factor which you could immensely benefit from, you might appreciate the other quirks too, but would prefer having your powers back still. Even as you were an excellent fighter and could hold your own more than well, with your true power, one that had nothing to do with mutations, being in your mind and heart. But your Inhuman power was a part of you as much as the serum was part of him.
The switch would be attempted – but in the right time.Steve was not going to take another risk, nor approve of anyone else taking it. But for sure - both of you would definitely welcome the return to the norm; at least where abilities were concerned.
If you’d revert to your old ways in your interaction as well remained to be seen – but unlike with the power switch, no amount of prior research or stalling would help Steve predict the outcome.
“Is Agent Campbell with you?” Steve panted, forcing himself to stay focused on the puzzle he could actually help solving. “He’s-“
“-not, he’s already diving into archives and all the retrieved records from the cute little cult-like community of Inhumans they had, researching the artifact,” Tony interjected, a brief smirk audible in his voice. “If anyone can make sense of Jiaying’s notes, it’s him. We know. We might not have not had our head strategist but we can do okay when it comes to it, Cap.”
A tired smile curled Steve’s lips upward.
“Thank you. I know you’re just fine without me,” Steve noted, smile slowly slipping when he remembered another piece of intel they needed to explore. “Can you-- we need to check up on Spectre’s mother.”
Bucky frowned at him in confusion. “They took her too? No other prisoner has been reported in this facility yet.”
Stev took a wavering breath as they exited the building, fresh air feeling like heaven despite the burning in his lungs – and the sight of multiple quinjets as well – and only then explained.
“Not sure. They just mentioned her in passing. Could be that she’s working with them. Could be they used her Inhumans research. Could be she’s in danger or hurt. I’m not sure, maybe they just mentioned her to get a rise out of Spectre. Either way, we need to know.”
“We’ll get right on that, pal,” Bucky assured him, grabbing his arm firmer to help him hop on the jet. “Now let’s get you home.”
A whole medical team was on Steve the second he stepped into the plane. However, as Tony started the quinjet, the ramp rising however, Steve was deaf to the questions asked; something much more important caught his attention.
One of Tony’s brilliant inventions, a modification of his suits, a stretcher designed for the field where wheels were a real inconvenience.
Two field medics; and you.
He only got a glimpse as the group headed towards the quinjet, but he had seen enough.
Unconscious. Ashen. Bloodied. Improvised bandages soaked through with crimson as you had been apparently forced to your knees. Remnants of your beautiful evening gown, one that made his heart beat its way out of his chest and sear, a precious sight to behold, a memory to cherish; the sight and all other senses full of you as you had smiled mildly, as you chuckled, as he held you in his arms, having moved almost effortlessly across the dancefloor.
And this was the price you paid; your punishment for Steve’s and others’ insistence that it would be fine to go to the auction.
God, he was such an idiot.
Arrogant idiot who had thought that if something had gone awry a bit, he’d handle it, especially with you by his side. He had seen the golden opportunity to apologize, to smoothen the rough relationship between you two at least a bit, to make a nice memory with you, so desperate to take a chance to show himself in a better light that for once he hadn’t minded Tony meddling.
This was Steve’s punishment for that arrogance and focusing on his own agenda; and it wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair, because you were taking the brunt of the impact of the consequences of his actions – and the lack of it. You were paying the price for his irresponsibility, for his incompetence.
God, how he wished he could turn the clock back.
Like so many times before.
He was sure his lips were moving, automatically responding to the questions of the meticulous medical team eventually. But that image of you remained in his mind, even when he closed his eyes, hazy due to pain medication he didn’t remember receiving.
The fact that it had done nothing to relieve the pain from the wound he had suffered when in his spectral form only made his stomach turn further.
Your pain lingered. And unless his brain was more messed up than he had thought, not only that your pain lingered for days, weeks even, but you also had no relief for it.
Steve just wanted to scream and punch and tear something apart.
“You won’t believe me, but it needs to be said,” a mild voice sounded next to him, causing his eyes to snap open in fright; he hadn’t noticed people moving around. Hadn’t noticed another of his friends arriving. Did you have someone close nearby? They might be operating on you already, despite the risks, so probably not. “Steve, look at me.”
It was hard to resist Natasha’s gentle command, but Steve had been through a lot harder trials today. Yesterday? Both? It had been light outside…
He kept staring ahead, her face, the flash of red hair, appearing on his vision even as his gaze wouldn’t focus on her.
He knew what she was going to say. It was clear as day – and she was right about one thing. He wouldn’t believe her. He couldn’t.
“This isn’t your fault.”
If Steve’s chest didn’t hurt so much and if he wasn’t trying to pretend like he was listening, he’d scoff.
“Listen to the lady, punk,” Bucky added. “She knows her shit. We all… pushed you a little bit to go. No one could have known.”
“We should have.” I should have.
Both of his friends’ faces came into focus as Steve spoke up, uncannily similar concerned expression on their features.
“Maybe. But we can’t change that now – and you know I hate trying to look at the bright side of things just to cover up for the hard dark facts, but we did discover a large base of operations and eliminated it thanks to you two,” Natasha noted and Steve gritted his teeth as he inhaled sharply, his lungs crying out in consequence. “That might have not been the plan, but it still counts. What you two have been through there – and we don’t know half of it, I’m sure – wasn’t for nothing.”
Steve gulped, averting her gaze. He couldn’t say she didn’t have valid arguments; there were good things that came out it indeed, the truth about how your powers worked among them, because at least now Steve would be able to take that into account after you hopefully managed to switch powers back. But that didn’t mean the horrible experience was lessened for it.
It didn’t mean it had been worth it.
“And you did a damn good job patching her up in that situation,” Bucky argued further, only making Steve’s stomach churn. Because that wasn’t true. He hadn’t been fast enough. You did the hardest work. You- “We know enough to understand you managed to project? I mean-“
“She dug out the bullets herself,” Steve said dully, despite the images his mind had conjured about that flaring up inside his head again being impossibly vivid and nauseating.
Bucky’s voice fell silent and Steve took satisfaction – a sick one, one knew – in the horror casting shadows over both Natasha’s and Bucky faces. Good. He needed them to understand. He needed them to understand that despite the state they found you in – precisely for that, perhaps – you were a goddamn fighter.
And he had failed you. 
“She dug out the bullets herself while coaching me through projecting to the hallway so we could get out. Only when that didn’t work, I projected to her and found her barely conscious, but with two damn bullets out and her hands and legs soaking in her own blood. Don’t tell me-“
“She’s one tough agent, Steve, we get the message,” Natasha interrupted his sombre speech flatly, face strict when he snapped his gaze to her; but her voice still spoke of warmth. “We know that and my respect to her only grows with every mission, but that doesn’t diminish your merit. Controlling a power which you had an entirety of few hours – of which most you spent unconscious, I assume – enough to get to her, taking care of her after that, was still hard work. You were both without your usual powers. Clearly, you both pushed beyond your limits. And survived, thanks to each other. But you alone did a good job.”
Steve averted her gaze, his face and the burn of angry exhausted tears probably saying it all: Did I?
I did nothing.
I didn’t do enough.
When she said it like that, it sounded like he had managed quite the feat, but it still didn’t feel like enough. It still felt like a failure on his part; but God, was she right when she said you had outdone yourself, fighting tooth and nail and pushing yourself to do the unthinkable and succeeding.
Steve cleared his throat, hoping to swallow the lump having grown there.
“How did you find us?” he asked, aware his friends would recognize that as clear evasion of digging deeper into the topic.
And hopefully, they’d take it.
Even with that sigh on their part.
The corners of Steve’s lips twitched up a bit at the ridiculously coordinated sound of exasperation and exhaustion from Bucky and Natasha; they were good for each other. Absurdly so.
“Barret was on the shortlist of my suspects,” Natasha explained simply. “For all the sophisticated manipulations and tricks, trying to get our scientists do their dirty work, no one thought of the possibility of us tracking him once we knew he could be the mole.”
“Cocky bastards,” Bucky hummed. “Luckily.”
Steve couldn’t but agree; he might have been pissed at the universe for the team not having appeared earlier, but he didn’t want to imagine what they would have found had they come later.
“How did Coulson’s team get involved?”
Bucky’s sudden grin seemed out of place, but warmed Steve’s heart anyway.
“You’ll like this one. Johnson was keeping tabs on the mission – the gala, that is. She actually recovered a draft of Spectre’s message about the artifact as soon as she found out about the ambush, came barging into the Tower with a few friends at her heels. She still had a cut on her forehead from their own mission. Speaking of tough women…”
Natasha smirked; and Steve’s smile widened, the sign of joy feeling genuine for the first time.
You did have someone by your bedside, even as most of your current team fussed over him, maybe even for that exact reason. Coulson’s team – your friends – were in your corner. Likely in every sense of the world. Good.
His stomach dropped to his feet only when the idea occurred to him that it might be enough for you to draw you back to Coulson. Away from the Avengers. Him included.
Gritting his teeth, he forbade himself to worry about that now. Even if that was the case, he would have to accept it; he’d have to be happy for you. He’d have to. He wouldn’t have a word to say against that decision. He hadn’t exactly done the stellar job of making you feel welcome, and as for keeping you safe-
“That’s good,” Steve said weakly at least, stomping on the unpleasant thoughts, latching onto the bright side – if it wasn’t for Agent Johnson, the rescue party could have been smaller. And slower. He was beyond grateful for the friends you had. “She’s a good friend… and I hope she’s been treated by now?”
“She was. As much as was possible during the flight anyway. And she does seem like a good friend... one who drives Tony crazy.”
Steve couldn’t but grin at Natasha’s sidenote, especially since he heard someone approaching from behind, probably the man in question himself. “Even better.”
“I heard that, Cap! How’s he doing, doc?”
Doctor Shaw glanced at Steve briefly, waiting for his approval, before he secured another butterfly band-aid over the cut on his forearm. Steve just nodded.
“Well, I’ll be able to tell more once we’re at the Tower, but for now, I’m confident enough to say that the patient will eventually make a full recovery.”
“Especially after he gets his mojo back, right?” Tony added, earning a slightly amused raised brow from the man.
“If you are referring to regaining the effects of the serum, particularly the increased accelerated healing factor, then yes, Mr. Stark. I’m hopeful.”
“There’s no rush with that-“ Steve protested instinctively, only for Natasha to carefully wrap her fingers around his left wrist – the least injured non-intimate part of a body she could find.
“We’ll figure it out, Steve. Together.”
And she’ll be fine too, the look in her eyes said, causing Steve’s shoulders to slump and making him internally wince in pain.
“Alright, Captain Rogers. Are you comfortable with me reporting-“
“Yes, Doctor Shaw. Proceed,” Steve said before the doctor could finish asking about sharing his medical information with three other people present, causing the man to smile briefly.
“Right. Your dislocated shoulder is stabilized for now, as is the gunshot wound. I would advise rest, bedrest preferably, and I’d recommend you to respect it this time as the effects of the serum, particularly the healing factor, do not seem to be present.”
Steve pointedly ignored the two piercing gazes and one snort from his friends at the note about him respecting doctor’s orders. He did respect all medical personnel immensely, both as people and professionals – there were simply times at which he couldn’t entirely follow their recommendations.
Doctor Shaw cleared his throat before he continued.
“The cut on your forehead was minor, as the majority of the cuts on your arms, apart from three of them with about two stitches each, they should heal within a few days. We disinfected it thoroughly, but we will monitor the progress regularly, especially for signs of infection. Again, if you could limit straining your muscles by let’s say lifting heavy objects, it would certainly help. As for the injury under your eye and over your cheek, there is no fracture and the swelling is going to disperse within hours. Do expect a bruise, however. Again, my recommendation is to rest. And do not hesitate to report if you feel that you should receive a higher dose of pain medication – I admit we do have slight trouble calculating the dose as we are in the process of determining the metabolization of various medication in the current state of your body.”
He made another pause, frowning, first at his notes in the chart and then at Steve.
“Now, before I leave you to it, I detected no injuries to your ribs or sternum, no swelling or bruising or worse, yet you are clearly in pain, having difficulty breathing. We can talk about fresh higher dose of fentanyl once we get to the base to relieve you, but as of now, do you have any idea what could be the cause for-“
“I’m fine. It’s… my pain is about two on the scale-“ of three “of ten, the breathing it probably just the adrenalin still wearing off. That is possible, no?” Steve suggested, hoping his lie sounded at least a fraction more convincing to the doctor and his friends than to himself.
Now that the pain from other injuries subdued, it felt like someone was drilling a hole not his chest and then poked around once he broke through the bone to the insides; or as if someone shot him. But he couldn’t say that without casting suspicion on you. He couldn’t do that until he had a plan of approaching the issue, preferably with you even if he felt like benching you forever for the stunt you had been pulling at him and the whole team – and possibly you previous team. What were you even thinking?
The doctor eyed him curiously, but nodded at last, clearly satisfied for the moment.
“I’m simply going to take some rest and then I’ll be as good as new,” Steve added, an innocent – but honestly grateful to all the care the medical provided – smile on his lips.  
He would swear Bucky mumbled ‘little shit’ under his breath. Doctor Shaw dared to raise a questioning eyebrow, clearly seeing Steve was trying to butter him up, but didn’t protest and took his leave.
Steve felt three slightly suspicious glares remain, but no one asked. For now.
They were about to land anyway.
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Next chapter
Series masterlist // S.R. masterlist
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Sorry it took so long, loves, life - eh🥲
As always, any feedback and thoughts shared are insanely appreciated 💗
I hope April has been treating you well - and if not, it's about to change 💕
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candycandy00 · 24 days ago
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Finding Love in a Zombie Apocalypse - A JJK Interactive Romance Fanfic Round 6
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Read the details about this event here!
Round 1 | Round 2 | Round 3 | Round 4 | Round 5
During a zombie apocalypse, you meet a group of seven handsome men. Which one will you choose to be your survival/romantic partner?
This is the last round of voting! The last man standing will get a smut chapter!
Vote for the man you want to be eliminated! The man with the most votes will not be killed off in the story, but he will be removed from all future polls and his branching story will be closed off!
Reminder: Vote for the man you DO NOT want to survive with! You are voting someone OUT!
Dividers by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more!
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Gojo:
The rest of the drive to the military bunker is mostly quiet. Geto has finally convinced Gojo to stop playing music and has remained focused on the road ever since. Gojo himself, by contrast, doesn’t seem tense at all. His silence seems to be nothing more than an attempt to humor you and Geto. 
Is he really that confident? To the point that he’s not worried at all about taking on armed soldiers? You’re not sure if that makes you feel better or worse about the plan. You can’t shake the image of him tearing through zombies like he was possessed. The thought of him doing that to living humans gives you chills, even if they are bad people. 
“Hey,” Gojo says, breaking his silence. You look up at him and he says, “Don’t worry. I won’t let anything bad happen to you.”
“Thanks,” you say, feeling slightly more relaxed. 
The truck slows as Geto prepares to turn off the highway and onto a nondescript dirt road. By now the sun has set and the sky is a rich dark blue, dotted with tiny stars that shine so much more brightly now that very few places still have power. 
Finally the bunker comes into view, illuminated by the headlights of the truck. It’s smaller than you expected, but still impressive. Maybe you were expecting a whole army base, or maybe it’s much bigger on the inside. It’s mostly underground, right? 
There’s a metal door, but otherwise there doesn’t appear to be any other entrance. It would certainly be easy to defend. 
After Geto parks, the three of you climb out of the truck. As soon as your boots hit the slightly damp ground, your nerves kick into overdrive. There’s no turning back now. You’re actually doing this. 
Gojo opens the trailer and speaks with the men inside, but none of them climb out. Part of the plan is keeping them hidden for now. It’s important that the soldiers don’t get spooked. They need to think your group is small and non-threatening. One look at Sukuna would wreck that part of the plan. 
Instead, Gojo and Geto unload several duffel bags full of food they took from the grocery store. They carry them to the door of the bunker and then Gojo begins knocking on the door, as if he’s a neighbor there to borrow a cup of sugar. 
You hang back a few feet, partially behind the men. Tension fills the air as you wait for a response. After several minutes of Gojo knocking incessantly, some sort of intercom crackles to life above Gojo’s head. 
“Step away from the door!” a voice commands. 
Gojo looks up at the speaker. It looks like there’s a small camera there as well. “Can we come in?” Gojo asks, his tone friendly and casual. 
“No civilians allowed. Leave.”
“In that case, you come out here,” Gojo replies. When no response comes, he resumes knocking on the door, this time louder. 
“Get away from the bunker!” the voice yells, sounding a bit frantic. “You’re gonna draw the dead here! If you don’t leave immediately, we’ll open fire!”
Gojo sighs, then picks up one of the duffel bags. “Look, we’re not here to cause trouble. We want to propose a trade. You’ve got plenty of guns in there, right?”
The voice hesitates, then asks, “What do you have to trade for them?”
Gojo grins as he unzips the heavy bag in his arms and holds it up toward the camera. You can’t see the contents from this angle, but you know exactly what’s being shown. Canned food, cereal, instant oatmeal and coffee, condiments, and lots of other items that have long shelf lives and can be eaten or prepared easily. 
There’s silence from the speaker for several minutes, and you imagine that whoever is monitoring the camera and intercom went to get someone with more authority, or perhaps rounded up the rest of the men to discuss this possible trade. Then, you hear the same voice ask, “How many bags do you have?”
Geto steps forward now, close enough that he can be seen and heard. “Dozens,” he says, pointing to the truck behind the three of you. It’s probably outside the camera’s range, but you’re sure there are other cameras on the premises, ones that show a much larger view. 
Geto is lying. There are eleven duffel bags like that and four backpacks, counting your own. Not all of them contain food, but other useful items like medical supplies, batteries, and hygiene items. While the group had gathered more supplies from the store, the eight of you could only carry so much in the chaos of escaping. 
“We’re proposing one gun per bag,” Geto continues, his voice smooth. “As many as ten, if you have the extra guns. Another bag for ammo.”
“Where did you get so much food?” the voice asks, a hint of skepticism in their tone. 
“We raided a grocery store,” Gojo says, the first honest statement he’s made. 
Silence again, then, “How many people are with you?”
Geto motions for you to step forward, into the camera’s view. “Just the three of us,” he says. “The rest of our group is back at the shelter.”
“Who’s the woman?” the voice asks, and you suddenly feel a chill slide down your spine. They didn’t ask anything specific about Gojo or Geto, so why single you out? 
Gojo looks at you, then back to the camera. “We met her a couple days ago at the grocery store. Why?”
Silence again, stretching out for at least two full minutes, causing your heart to pound. You have a very bad feeling about where this is going. 
“We’ll double the guns to twenty and double the ammo if you give us the food and the woman.”
You can’t stop the incredulous “What?!” that escapes your mouth. Are they being serious? Do they actually think anyone would trade a living person for guns?
Gojo grabs your arm and pulls you closer to him. “Triple the guns and you’ve got yourself a deal!”
You look at him in shock. “Hey! What the hell are you saying?!”
He says nothing, only glances at you before returning his attention to the camera. This is part of the plan, right? The goal is to get the soldiers to open the door no matter what, so Gojo was going to pretend to agree to whatever they wanted. You just didn’t expect yourself to be part of the trade. 
Unless… the plan itself was a lie. Maybe Gojo intended to trade you from the beginning. Maybe he made up the whole “take over the bunker” plan just to get you to go along with them without resisting. 
No, you can’t start doubting him now. After all, his grip on your arm is loose, gentle. You could so easily pull free. But you should probably keep acting outraged, right? 
“You can’t leave me here, you asshole! I’m not doing this!” you scream, pretending to try to pull away from him.  
Gojo laughs. “How about it, fellas? She’s a little feisty but she’s really cute. Trust me, you’ve never had pussy this good!”
You feel your face heat up at that remark. Even if this is just an act, it’s still embarrassing to hear him say such a thing about you. 
Just as you’re about to fake protest some more, the voice on the other side says, “Okay, it’s a deal. Step back from the door. We’re coming out.”
Geto carries the duffel bag back several steps while Gojo pulls you back. You pretend to struggle for the next few minutes, then go still when you hear metallic sounds coming from the bunker. You look up uneasily as the door slowly begins to open.
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Nanami:
You awake to the familiar sway and bump of the truck. In the dim lights of the trailer, it takes you a moment to realize you’re lying on your back, your upper half in Nanami’s lap. 
He notices you’re awake right away, subtly shifting so that he can look down at you. Blinking up at him, you can just barely make out the faint circles under his eyes, the fine lines creasing his brow. He’s exhausted, and worried. 
“How do you feel?” he asks, probably wondering if the gamble paid off.
“How long has it been?” you ask, your voice sounding hoarse. 
He looks at his watch. “A little over three hours.”
Three hours. By that time, with a bite, your fever should be kicking in. But you don’t feel feverish. You raise your one hand up to your forehead to feel your skin. It’s a little clammy, but not hot. 
“I think I’m okay,” you tell him. But as soon as the words leave your mouth, a nightmarish pain assaults what remains of your left arm. You scream out, curling in on yourself, curling against Nanami. 
His arms wrap around you, almost automatically. He smooths your hair with one hand. “It’s alright. I know it hurts, but at least you’re alive.”
Tears sting your eyes, and not just from the pain. You realize that in this broken world, any sort of prosthetic is out of the question. And with only one arm, it’s going to be much harder to fight zombies, carry and gather supplies, and just survive in general. Does Nanami have enough medical supplies to change your bandages often enough? What if your arm gets infected? There are so many things to think about, and all of them are depressing. 
After a few moments of holding you, Nanami reaches into his bag sitting beside him and pulls out a small medicine bottle and some water. 
“Here, I took some pain relievers from the little pharmacy in the grocery store. I’m not sure how strong they are, but they should help.”
You take the bottle and read the label. Hydrocodone 7.5. It’s what your mother used to take for her chronic pain. There are only thirty pills in the bottle, the label displaying the name of someone who will never be picking up their prescription. 
With Nanami’s help, you shake one pill out of the bottle and swallow it with water. Your mom used to say it took nearly an hour to “kick in”. You hope your inexperience with taking this kind of medication will make it take effect sooner. 
You’re starting to adjust to the pain. It was intense when you first woke up, but that’s probably because it was so shocking to your system. You let Nanami pull you to a sitting position beside him, and you can’t help looking at the bandaged stump. Even in this poor lighting, you can see the red soaking through. It makes you feel like throwing up, so you look away from it. 
“Where are we going now?” you ask, hoping to distract yourself. 
“There’s a small rural hospital about an hour away now. That’s where we’re planning to set up a base,” Nanami says. 
“A hospital?” you ask, thinking this would be very fortunate for you. Plenty of medical supplies, and even equipment. 
“We’ve been discussing it since before the grocery store,” he says. “A hospital is a great place to be. Not only for the medical supplies, but also food and powerful backup generators. Unless it’s already been raided, it should be perfect.”
All of that makes sense to you. And a small hospital would be a good choice, since it would likely have far fewer zombies and be easier to clear out. You’re glad you’re with a group that thinks things through. 
You look at the other two occupants of the trailer, Higuruma and Sukuna. Neither have spoken to you since you woke up, but when Higuruma catches your eye, he stands up and walks over. 
“How are you holding up?” he asks. 
You look up at him. “The pain has let up some. I still feel sort of weak though.”
He nods. “That’s probably from the blood loss. Hopefully we can find something to help at the hospital.”
“We shouldn’t bring her,” Sukuna says from across the trailer. He’s leaning against the wall, arms folded across his chest. “At best she’s a burden. At worst she’ll turn and bite one of us.”
Nanami frowns at him. “We already discussed this. We agreed as a group to take her with us.”
“I didn’t agree,” Sukuna says. 
“You were outvoted,” Higuruma points out. 
Nanami stands up, eyeing Sukuna in a way most men probably would be terrified to do. “I’m surprised a man like you is so frightened of the prospect of her turning. She’s one woman. Surely you could handle her if she becomes a zombie.”
You expect Sukuna to get angry, perhaps even attack Nanami. You wish you had the strength to stop them, to tell Nanami not to go so far for your sake. But before you can open your mouth to speak, you notice Sukuna is laughing. 
You, Nanami, and Higuruma watch him warily until the laugh stops and Sukuna is left grinning. “Alright. But if she does turn, I’ll crush that pretty little head until no one can recognize her.”
His eyes shift to you, and you force a grin of your own. “I appreciate that,” you say. “I’d much rather be crushed than be a rotting corpse.”
Sukuna laughs again, and Nanami glares at him as he sits back down beside you. “Don’t worry about him,” he tells you, his voice soft now. “He was the only one who voted to not bring you.”
You shake your head. “I was being serious just now. If I turn, don’t hesitate. Not even for a second. I can’t bear the thought of being one of those things. Promise me, Nanami!”
He looks uncomfortable even discussing it, but eventually nods. “You have my word.”
You scoot closer and lean your head over on his shoulder. Maybe it’s the pain pill kicking in, or maybe you’re just too tired to keep being tense, but it feels like your pain is ebbing. 
Maybe it’s just that Nanami’s presence beside you is comforting. 
You drift off to sleep again, your mind and body tired from your recent trauma. At some point you feel Nanami’s arm wrap around you, but he doesn’t speak again until he’s waking you up, gently nudging your shoulder. 
“We’re at the hospital,” he tells you. 
You open your eyes and look around, adjusting to the dim lighting again and preparing yourself for the spike of pain that inevitably follows waking up. When it hits, you wince and clutch your arm above the wound. It’s not as bad this time, probably because of the medicine. 
Nanami is standing over you, holding out his hand. “Let’s go. The others have already started clearing it out. We’ll get your bandages changed and get you settled in.”
You take his hand, dreading having these bandages pulled off but looking forward to the idea of resting in an actual bed. “Thanks, Nanami.”
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Tag List:
@tadabzzzbee @babysoo-meu @atomicweaselpaperapricot
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twinkboimler · 15 days ago
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October 2024 fic recs
I'm back with another TOS/AOS/SNW fic rec post! Here's some recent fics I really enjoyed!
SPIRK
I Shall Do Neither by onwhatcaptain. TOS. Mature. 166,262 words. Heavy angst, grief, pon farr aftermath. The writer chose not to use archive warnings, and I recommend reading through all the tags on this as well. This fic explores what might have happened if Kirk had died during the kal-if-fee, stretching across the months that follow. This is an emotional fic. There were chapters where I was crying the entire time I read through it. I won’t spoil what plays out, but I was completely satisfied with how this fic ended. It’s a heavy fic, and it’s not for everyone, but god is it good. Plus I love a spirk fic that really highlights the importance of McCoy in their lives; this one really shows how valuable McCoy is to them. I think this fic should be enshrined as a Must-Read when you enter the fandom.
I need a drink of cool, cool rain by Moreta1848. TOS. Explicit. 12,298 words. This fic was beautifully written. It introduces new ideas about Vulcan culture and rain and explores these ideas in a way that I really loved.
milk and honey by spaceisgay (ChancellorGriffin). SNW. Explicit. 28,651 words. Aliens made them do it, temporary amnesia, smut. Spock and Kirk wake up in a prison cell with no memory of who they are. They’re asked to perform an alien ritual… I’m sure you can guess what that entails. Really liked how this was written and it really nails characterizations for SNW spirk.
SPONES
Overthink, Overdrive by fangirlandiknowit. TOS. Explicit. 12,677 words. End of 5-year mission, getting together, love confessions. Aliens force a love confession, and McCoy and Spock handle it just about as well as you’d expect them to. I love when these two are just awful at talking to each other.
The Doctor and the Mailman by bongbingbong. TOS. Teen and Up Audiences. 9,606 words. Western. McCoy is a small-town doctor, Spock is the mailman. Everyone tells McCoy that he should stay away from Spock, but he refuses to listen. First in a 3-part series, I really enjoyed all three parts!
Ashaya (Tehs-tor) by Adenil. TOS. Teen and Up Audiences. 57,762 words. Fake dating/marriage, mutual pining. Spock goes to McCoy when he’s expected to take a spouse. I read this fic during one of my most-recent flights and it was exactly what I needed to sink into while killing time on my flights and at the airport. 
Handle Me With Care by Affixjoy. TOS. Explicit. 5,234 words. Hurt/comfort, friends with benefits to lovers. While on an away mission on a cold planet, McCoy realizes he has appendicitis and has to perform the surgery on himself with Spock’s help. This fic is inspired by Leonid Rogozov removing his own appendix in Antarctica! The spones moments in this fic really tugged at my heartstrings!
MCKIRK
That's why I won't get vulnerable by strangenewwords. AOS. Explicit. 18,074 words. Academy era, 5+1 things, porn with plot, genital piercings. I love some porn with plot and feelings, and this one just hit. If you like McKirk struggling to use their words and instead using their hands and mouths instead, this fic is for you.
the way things unearth by kurgaya. AOS. Explicit. 11,299 words. Academy era, Jocelyn comes to visit. I absolutely love how this fic wrote Jocelyn and McCoy’s past relationship. Their backstory was so different from any other fic I’ve read. Jocelyn really felt like her own person in this, not just his ex-wife. 
MCSPIRK
Moving across, then coming through by lesbobaggins. TOS. Explicit. 2,754 words. Starts as mckirk but turns into mcspirk. Smut, glory holes, a hot and funny fic where Jim finds out what some of the bathrooms on the ship are used for.
do you love your neighbor (is it in your nature) by Muir_Wolf. TOS. Teen and Up Audiences. 20,071 words. Hurt/comfort, corporal punishment, denied food as punishment. While stationed aboard a small vessel after volunteering to help when the medical staff comes down with a flu, McCoy is unfairly punished by the admiral in charge (of course, it’s far more complex than it may initially seem). I love how much time this fic takes to explore the aftermath of McCoy’s experiences—the comfort in this is so good.
GEN
Give Thy Thoughts No Tongue by WerewolvesAreReal. TOS. Teen and Up Audiences. 38,757 words. Mind control, misunderstandings. Spock is captured while on an away mission, and when he returns, he won’t talk about what happened—but not for the reason you might think. Loved this fic!
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mvltixcc · 9 months ago
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Girls Like Girls - Robin Buckley X Cheerleader!Reader
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Summary: Robin has a crush on the new girl in town. Y/N is also a new member of the cheer squad, which means Robin sees her all the time at games and other school events. Unfortunately, Robin is put in a tough situation. She's scared to talk to her because the cheerleaders have a reputation of being mean girls and she fears that Y/N may not feel the same. Little does Robin know that Y/N does not appear as she seems. Y/N becomes best friends with Eddie, which seems unlikely at the surface due to different social circles. This leads to rumors of course and word spreads like wildfire here at Hawkins, which then makes Robin's feelings even more confusing. After hanging out with Steve and the gang, Robin starts to see a different side to Y/N. Will they end up together or will they just remain friends?
Word Count: 2.7k
Pinterest board for inspiration
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2
Chapter 3
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After that night Robin couldn’t stop thinking about you. Every time she thought about how sweet you were to her, she couldn’t help but get butterflies in her stomach. She liked the warm fuzzy feeling you gave her. Had she really misjudged you? Deep down Robin knew that Steve was right when he said that you weren’t mean and scary. But she would never tell Steve that though, he’d never live it down. 
Some time had passed since Robin and Y/N’s last interaction with one another. They saw each other in the halls and would exchange waves and smiles. It was unfortunate, but they both became super busy with practice as it was football season. At least Robin got to see you there and she took what she could get. In her mind she felt like you weren’t just cheering for the guys, but also for her too and that alone brought her comfort. 
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“Have you talked with her yet?” Steve asked as he was cleaning the front windows. He had been nagging about Robin talking to Y/N for weeks since their moment in the store. 
“No, now will you stop asking me that! There have been more important things happening in my life, like the football games!” Robin states.
“Yeah, which she’s also been at, might I add!”. Steve added. 
“Not helping!” Robin responded.
“You know to me it seems like you’re avoiding her.” Steve said sarcastically. Robin rolled her eyes and went back to work. Maybe she was avoiding you, she feared you would reject her and that terrified her. “Well good thing for you, now is your chance.” Steve stated as he pointed to the door. Robin looked in that direction and saw you about to walk in.
“Oh god, how do I look?” Robin said as she began to frantically fix her hair and brush off her clothes. She wanted to look nice for you, she didn’t want to appear to be a mess, even if she was one half of the time. 
“You look fine, don’t be nervous.” Steve remarked as he tapped his friend on the shoulder. 
“Wow I’m totally cured and not even more nervous at all!” Robin exclaimed sarcastically. 
“Hey stranger! It’s been a minute since you’ve been by, thought you might have forgotten us or something.” Steve joked as you walked in. 
“No no no, I could never forget you guys!” Y/N chuckled and gave Robin a wink. That sent her into overdrive. If her face wasn’t looking like a tomato before, it surely was now. 
“What do you need? That sounded rude, oh god I'm sorry!  I just mean do you need uh- help with finding a movie or something.” Robin rambled as you headed toward the counter. 
“It’s okay!” Y/N giggled. “I’m actually here for a job interview! With football season coming to an end, I need something to do so I figured I’d look around for a job.” She smiled. The thought of you working there with Robin was enough to make her pass out. She would be able to see you everyday and she had no idea how to handle that. 
“That’s um- neato.” Robin stated awkwardly. There was a brief moment of silence before Keith had called you in the back to be interviewed. “Well I’ll see you guys in a bit, wish me luck!” You said walking away from the pair of friends. 
“Neato? What the hell is wrong with you Buckley, get it together!” Steve proclaimed.
“I don’t know I got nervous and you know what happens when I get nervous!” Robin said, panicking. 
“Yeah I’m well aware of what happens.” Steve joked.
“Oh god what am I gonna do if she gets the job?” Robin stated, still panicking. 
“Oh I don’t know, maybe talk to her and tell her how you feel?” He remarked.
“You’re not helping Harrington!” She replied, now pacing back and forth. 
Some time had passed before you had walked out from being interviewed. “Alright fine you want my help? Watch this.” Steve said, setting down the items in his hand. “Hey you, how did the interview go?” Steve asked as you made your way back to the two of them.
“I think it went well considering I got the job!” Y/N cheered.
“That's great! So listen, I’m having a little Halloween party at my place next Friday and Robin here was wondering if you'd like to go with her?” Steve conveyed as he pointed to Robin, who looked like a deer in the headlights. 
“Wait really, you want me to go with you?” You questioned. Robin gulped hard. It was now or never and she had to face it head on. ‘Thanks a lot Harrington.’ She thought to herself.
“Oh um yeah yeah totally, it’d be super fun if we went to this party together.” She said with nervousness seeping into her voice. Robin hated how hard this was for her. “I totally understand if you don’t want to-” 
“I'd love to go with you!” You interrupted. “Are we dressing up? Ooooo maybe we could dress up together or something, that would be so cool!” You said with excitement. Your eyes lit up as you continued on, which caused Robin’s cheeks to flush once again. 
“That would be great! We’ll see you then!” Steve said with pride. You all waved your goodbyes and as soon as you had left, Robin gave a smack to the back of Steve’s head.
“Ow! Is that any way to thank your friend after scoring you a date?!” Steve exclaimed, rubbing the back of his head. 
“You could have at least given me a heads up that you were gonna do that dingus!” Robin groaned. 
“Well excuse me for trying to help a friend. Maybe a little thank you would be nice.” He said. 
“Yeah I’m not thanking you just yet Harrington.” She chuckled. What had Steve gotten her into?
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It was finally the day of the party and to say that Robin was a mess would be an understatement. She had so many thoughts running through her head and all she could really feel was fear. Robin had thought about canceling because it would be better than the alternative. As she got lost in her nervousness, she saw that Y/N was approaching you with a slight skip in your step. “Hey hey hey, I’m so excited for tonight! We’re gonna look so amazing! You have your costume right?” You asked. 
“Yeah yeah I uh have it.” Robin assured, clearing her throat. Y/N let out a sigh of relief. They finished planning out any last minute details and departed as the bell rang for first period. “Well I’ll see you later Robin!” And with that you walked away with that same cute little skip in your step. 
Robin made her way to her first class and sat in her seat. She felt a little at ease after the conversation she had had with you. She started to daydream of how the night would go, but was soon interrupted. 
“So, Y/N tells me that you and her are going to Harrington’s party tonight?” Eddie inquired, leaning over to her. 
“Hello to you too Munson, and for your information yes we are going together. What about it?” Robin stated with a rather blunt tone. She didn’t want anyone, not even Eddie to ruin this night for her. He looked taken aback from her comment.
“Hey hey, I come in peace!” He said, raising his arms up. “I just want you to look out for her is all. She doesn’t usually go to parties like this and is only going because you invited her. It’s also her favorite holiday and I don't want it to be ruined for her.” Eddie stated sincerely. 
Robin just stared at him for a moment before speaking. “Oh yeah sure, I’ll make sure she’s okay.” She had no idea you were only going because she invited you. Well Steve asked, but that's besides the point. Eddie nodded to Robin and went back to his seat. She was now determined to make sure you both had a good time tonight.
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Robin had waited out front for Y/N to arrive at the party, she had already been there helping Steve set up. She could see Eddie’s van coming down the road and soon pulled up to the front yard. Robin stood from where she sat on the steps and made her way toward the van. You excitedly opened the door and jumped out to hug Robin. She was so caught off guard she almost forgot to hug you back. 
“Robin, look at you, you look so pretty!” Y/N said, pulling away from the hug and getting a good look at the girl in front of her. Robin could feel herself turning crimson. She wasn’t expecting to hear that from you. “I um, oh thank you.” She replied nervously. “You also look uh pretty.” She couldn’t help but stare at you in awe. You wore a simple black slip dress with some knee high socks and tall boots. She thought you looked beautiful. You thanked her for the compliment. Robin could see the blush creep upon your cheeks, which caused her stomach to do flips.
“I almost forgot!” Y/N said, turning back to the van and grabbing something from the front seat. “Our hats!” You said with excitement. You both had decided on being witches, it was super easy to find everything considering this was all last minute for the both of you. You put your hat on and helped Robin with hers shortly after. While you began to move bits of hair out of Robin’s face, she couldn't help but stare into your eyes. The way your (Y/E/C) eyes sparkled into the moonlight, she was mesmerized. You were so beautiful. 
“There, all better!” You said. You turned to Eddie and waved goodbye and soon he was off. “Ready to party?” You asked. Robin nodded and you both made your way inside. There was a good amount of people there already, the music was going and people seemed to be having a good time. The both of you had been dancing and laughing. Robin really enjoyed your company. She was happy that she didn’t cancel. Steve had pulled you both aside and took a picture with his polaroid. Soon after the picture was taken you had excused yourself to use the restroom. 
“Soooo are you having a good time or what?” Steve joked. 
“Okay okay, I’m having a good time. You were right or whatever.” Robin had rolled her eyes and chuckled.
“See I told you you would!” He was happy for his friend, she deserved this after everything she had gone through months prior. 
Their conversation was soon interrupted by the jocks making their arrival known and Chrissy coming up to the two of them. 
“Wow Buckley, I’m surprised to see you here!” She said with her usual sarcasm. 
“Why is that a surprise? Steve is my friend, you know.” Robin replied with annoyance.
“Oh well because you're at the bottom of the food chain. You really think you can hang out with people like us? Ha, that’s pathetic.” By this point people had been watching this spectacle go down, which only made it worse as it fuels Chrissy’s behavior. 
“Why do you care so much?” Robin questioned. She didn’t understand why it bothered her so much what she did. Robin never did anything to the cheerleader, at least to her knowledge. 
“Because there’s an order at this school and you my dear, need to be put in your place!” Chrissy said as she threw her drink onto Robin. The party grew silent. 
“What the shit Chrissy?! Robin, are you okay??” You asked standing in front of her trying to block people from looking at the scene ahead of them. Chrissy laughed as you attended to Robin. Robin with tears in her eyes, shook her head. “Let's go upstairs and get you cleaned up.” Y/N suggested. The party continued on as you brought her up to the bathroom to get washed up.
“I’m so sorry about her.” Y/N apologized, helping her clean off of her dress. 
“It’s fine, I should be used to this right?” Robin sniffled. 
“Hey look at me.” You said, putting your hand to Robin’s face so she could look at you. “It’s not fine. What she did was awful, you don't deserve to be treated that way by her or anyone else for that matter. You’re so special and kind Robin, don’t you ever forget that okay?” You said with sincerity, rubbing your thumb on her cheek. You flashed her a warm smile and she smiled back. Still holding her face, you gave her a gentle kiss on the forehead. 
“Stay right here for me okay?” You requested and Robin nodded. Y/N had left the bathroom for a moment and Robin was unsure why. Before she knew it, Y/N had returned from whatever you were doing. “Alright, let’s get you out of here.” Y/N stated grabbing Robin’s hand and heading downstairs. 
“Oh god now what is this mess?!” Chrissy exclaimed as you and Robin made it back to the crowd of people. You turned around to face her.
“Just drop it okay, we’re going.” You said, trying not to make the situation worse. By this point there was nothing but silence. The music had stopped and everyone was looking on at the disaster before them.
Chrissy chuckled. “You think you’re so special huh? Befriending the losers of this town? Well let me tell you something, you’re not! First it was the town satanist freak, I mean I thought that maybe it would be a little phase because he was the first person you met here. But now this, the dorky band girl? I mean come one how low can you go at this point?! You really need to-”
“You know Chrissy, you of all people you should know not to judge a person before getting to know them. I’m also only going to say this once so you better listen well, don’t you EVER talk about my friends like that again. And quite frankly the only thing I need to do is take my friend home and get the hell away from you! Come on Robin, let's go.” Still holding onto Robin, you both make your way to the front door.
“If you walk out that door, then you’re off the team!” Chrissy yelled over the crowd. You stopped in your tracks, Robin giving you a sympathetic look letting go of your hand. She knew how this was gonna go down. ‘It was fun while it lasted’ she thought.
“You can’t kick me off the squad.” You say turning to face the head cheerleader. 
“Oh yeah and why is that?” Chrissy humored the girl. 
“Because I quit.” Y/N announced as she took Robin’s hand again and walked out the front door. Eddie had pulled up with his van just in time. You both climbed into the van and soon you were off. “Let’s get you home.” You said, still holding onto her hand.
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