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blxckdragonfly · 2 years ago

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Love Language (Darkness Finds You Universe-- Prelude #0)

(Song: "Love Language" by Ariana Grande.

Warnings: Drama, Slight smut on the page.

Pairing: Chris Motionless & Lycia Winters "Pronunciation of her name-- Lai-shuh" (played Ana De Armas)

Synopsis: When Chris invites Lycia to Furnace Festival to see his band, Motionless In White play for the first time-- some drama unfolds between her and Ash Costello, which pushes Lycia into finally telling Chris that she loves him and... the attachment begins.

Word Count: 4,856

Spotify:

A/N: And we're back! I wanted to give you guys a prelude of what took place before the first piece I wrote with these two, which is Love On The Brain. I hope you enjoy it! Co-written with @blackrose-92! x Tiger)

I was so excited to be here today– Chris had brought me to Furnace Fest to see him and Motionless in White play live as well as walk around the festival and take photos of the different bands headlining today for Jeremy and Outburn Magazine. It was my first time ever seeing them live. I watched as Chris was putting on the final touches of his look, which was his black vest with a patch that had a black and white spiral, black jeans and his boots. His arms are covered in black paint, hiding his many tattoos.

Furnace Fest: Sloss Furnaces National Historic Landmark– Birmingham, AL. September 25th, 2021.

I wore a sleeveless black wash Metallica “Ride The Lightning” top from Fashion Nova, a pair of black ripped disco skinny jeans from PrettyLittleThing, and a pair of boots. My hair is up in a pair of space buns and I wore light makeup knowing that most festivals are known to be pretty warm as I stood at the side of the stage, watching Chris and the boys as they’re about to walk out on stage. I heard the excitement of the crowd as Ricky, Justin, Ryan and Vinny walked out.

Chris being the last to go out on stage, he stopped when he saw me standing there with a smile on my face. He walks over to me and places a soft kiss on my lips.

“Have a good show,” I whisper into his lips. He nods and walks out on stage, the crowd roaring as he takes his place and starts singing their opener�� Disguise. As I’m watching their set, I notice a bunch of black and red hair blocking my view from seeing Chris. It was Ashley Costello.

I was confused as to why Ash was acting this way toward me and then it all made sense, when she looked at Chris– she looked at him like she was absolutely lovestruck. It lit a flame of anger inside of me. I step forward in front of Ashley with my arms crossed and a brow raised at her.

“What the hell do you want?” My voice came out icy and cold as I glance at Ashley. Ashley clears her throat and shifts on her feet, avoiding my piercing yellow-green hazel eyes.

“I just want to talk,” Ashley replies, her voice quivering slightly. I wasn’t sure if she was playing some kind of game to get under my skin or was she being serious? “About your relationship with Chris.”

I was taken aback by her boldness and immediately became defensive of my relationship with Chris.

“What about it?” I ask, suspiciously.

“I think you both should end it,” Ashley took a step closer to me, her nervous facade fading fast. “He deserves someone far better than you.”

I stare at Ashley in disbelief, my heart racing in anger. How dare she try and get in between us like this. She has no right to do this and I sure as hell wasn’t going to let this happen. I clench my fists and step forward, determined to make Ashley understand that I wouldn’t be taking part in any games.

“What makes you think he deserves someone better than me?” I ask, fiercely. “Do you even know him at all? Do you know how much he actually cares for me?”

Ashley took a step back, intimidated by my ferocity and my refusal to be intimidated. I have three brothers, I know exactly how and when to fight if I need to.

“I know him far better than you and longer than you,” Ashley says with a smirk. “And I know he deserves someone who will treat him right, someone who won’t take him for granted.”

I grew more and more angry, I stepped forward with my jaw clenching and I grabbed her around the neck.

“I don’t know what kind of game you think you’re playing and hell, I don’t care,” I snarl. “But if you ever, ever come near my boyfriend again, I will kick your ass.”

My words are full of fury and I can see that Ashley knew that I meant every single word. Ashley started shaking in my grasp and she put both of her hands up in surrender.

“I-I’m sorry, Lycia,” Ashley stammers. “I didn’t mean to cause any trouble.”

I wasn’t satisfied with her apology, I tighten my grip around her throat as my voice takes on a harshness and is full of warning as I speak. “This is your only warning, Ash. Stay away from Chris or else I won’t be as nice next time.”

Ashley nods slowly, not daring to look me in the eye in fear that she would be met with the same cold rage that filled the air moments before. I step back and cross my arms as I watch Ashley walk away, and in the corner of my eye– I look up and I see Chris, who had just gotten off stage.

I can see that his jaw was on the floor from what he had seen happen between me and Ashley as he walked backstage. He didn’t know how to respond.

I face him and take a deep breath before looking into his brown eyes and speaking.

“Look,” I confess. “There’s one thing you need to know about me. I’m extremely protective of the people I love– whether it’s family, friends or even my significant other.”

I see Chris’s face turn from shock to being frozen and I realized why he’s looking at me that way. I just told him that I love him.

“Are-Are you saying that you love me?” Chris says.

I nod my head at him and smile at him, my expression full of warmth and admiration.

“I am,” I murmured in a honeyed tone of voice. “I love you, Christopher Cerulli.”

Chris steps forward toward me and pulls me into his arms, overwhelmed with emotion and happiness that I finally voiced out my feelings that I had for him. He kisses me deeply, passionately conveying all the love he has for me as we embrace tightly.

The kiss felt like an eternity between us before Chris finally pulled away from me, feeling both relieved and exhilarated all at once. He looks into my eyes, taking in every single detail of me as I stand before him– from my caramel brown hair, to my yellow-green hazel eyes, to my tattoos like my red inked snake tattoo with flowers on my left outer forearm. His hands move to caress my face.

“I love you too, Lycia,” His voice breaking slightly due to the overwhelming emotions flooding through him. "I love you so much."

I smile back at him, feeling an immense sense of relief wash over my entire body as I close the gap between us and I kiss him again, tenderly as I wrap my arms around his neck and my fingers sink into his newly dyed blonde hair.

I lightly nip on his bottom lip and I hear a soft growl erupt from within his chest, making me giggle. Chris slowly pulls away from the kiss, a look of contentment on his face, still keeping me close to him.

“I can’t believe you actually said it,” Chris whispers in awe, referring to how I finally voiced my feelings for him. “Not just saying that you love me but also standing up for our relationship.”

I smile up at Chris before resting my head on his chest, hearing the strong and steady beat of his heart beneath my ear.

“You don’t have to worry about anyone getting in the way anymore,” I murmured softly into his vest as he met my lips in another passionate kiss.

“Aw, look at the lovebirds,” I hear Justin’s voice as I quickly break away from the kiss and I turn around to face both Justin and Ricky.

“Hey, shut up, you two!” I snap as I flip them both off. Chris steps forward and rests a hand on my shoulder before turning his attention to Ricky and Justin. I see him take on a serious expression.

“You guys should watch your back,” Chris says as he sees a mischievous look in my eyes, causing both Ricky and Justin’s eyes to widen in fear as they realize what he’s implying.

Ricky and Justin both realize their mistake as they see the look in my eyes. Chris wanted to say something more but he was holding back laughter at the look on their faces. After composing himself, he shot them a warning look before turning back to me.

“Hey,” Chris whispers softly as he pulls me close and presses a gentle kiss to my forehead. “It’s alright, I’m here.”

I smile as I nuzzle my face into his tattooed neck, I feel so safe in his embrace and it makes me feel powerful knowing that I can stand up for myself and not have to face the fear of repercussions.

I see Ricky and Justin sheepishly back away and look down at their feet as I hear muttered apologies to us from them as they scurried away. Chris chuckles as he watches them go, wrapping his arm back around my waist protectively as the other moves to comb loose strands that have escaped from the space buns in my hair in a soothing gesture.

“I want to hear you say it again,” Chris mumbles softly into my ear as he places light kisses onto my jawline, taking delight in hearing my soft sighs with each brush of his lips on me.

“I love you.” I whisper. “I love you.”

Chris grins into my neck as he kisses it softly. “I’m never going to get tired of hearing you say that.”

After the festival, when Chris and I flew back to his place in Scranton and I made sure it was okay with Jeremy that I could stay longer with Chris and take time off work, which it was, we couldn’t keep our hands off each other. Chris wanted me and he wanted to be as close to me as possible.

The moment the door to his house closed behind him, Chris pins me up to the door– kissing me with such a deep passion that it takes my breath away. Our lips move in perfect sync as I wrap my arms around him, my fingers moving through his blonde hair. He savors the feeling and the taste of me as his hands explore my body, our lips breaking away for a moment as his own drag slowly down my neck, making me close my eyes.

I can feel his heart racing wildly but even I know he wants to take his time with me, which he scoops me up in his arms, making me giggle as he carries me upstairs to his bedroom, laying me on the black pillows below. I open my eyes and I meet his loving chocolate brown orbs staring back at me. My breathing is sharp with excitement.

I promise it's the little things that you do

That make me wanna give it all to you

You know I do, babe

I bring my lips back to his, kissing him passionately as my fingers reach for the “Violent Gentlemen” shirt that he’d been wearing on the flight back and pull it up over his head. I see more tattoos that cover his body, including what looks like a haunted house that wasn’t finished yet on his chest and stomach. I run my fingers across his tattooed arms and down his chest.

He pulls me closer, his own fingers reaching for my own oversized Misfits tee and taking it off me, leaving me completely bare chested before him because I’d been too lazy to put a bra on underneath.

He notices that I have more tattoos that he’d hadn’t seen before. I have a pair of deer antlers with some flowers on my right side near my right breast and a fox on my left side close to my left breast. I hear a soft gasp in awe from him of how beautiful I must have looked with my tattoos.

I blush as his gaze runs over them, feeling a bit self-conscious to be seen this way, despite how much I’m enjoying this at the same time.

You soothe me

You hold it down with every word you speak, oh, babe

Baby

Been a minute since I had somethin' so sweet

He reaches out and brushes his fingertips over the antlers, the sensation making me shiver as he moves his other hand to the fox on my left side.

“You’re so perfect,” Chris murmurs as he rests his forehead on mine, bringing tears to my eyes over how sweet he's being. “You really are.”

He continues his trail down my neck, to my collarbones, the center of my chest where he leans down and takes one of my breasts into his mouth– making me let out a moan as his hand caresses my other breast.

I feel completely overwhelmed by the sensations as they coursed through my body, my back arching in pleasure as Chris kisses and licks my sensitive skin. He reaches for my jeans that I’d worn on the flight, unbuttons them and pulls them down to reveal my phoenix tattoo on my right hip. He kisses it tenderly before standing up and undressing himself, his eyes burning with desire for me.

If you're gon' keep speakin' my love language

You can talk your shit all night

You the medication when I'm feelin' anxious

That's the kind of shit I like

I take in the beauty that is Christopher Cerulli, the Chris Motionless, every tattoo that covers his entire upper body. My heart beat in my chest, he wasn’t just beautiful. He’s gorgeous. I understand why so many girls want him, because of how stunning he is. The best part of all, is that he’s all mine.

I bite my lip as he slowly crawls onto the bed, his eyes meet mine as I can’t help but feel a bit nervous, his brown eyes are so intense I feel like I can’t breathe. He moves closer to me, resting a hand on my face, caressing it as he notices my hands are shaking.

“Lycia,” Chris murmurs softly. “Honey, you’re shaking. Hey, we don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

I shake my head, taking a breath to calm my nerves. I know what I want, it’s right in front of me, looking into my eyes. I want him.

“Chris,” I say softly, my voice barely a whisper as I push away all of my doubt that comes up to the surface. “I want this. I want you.”

Teach me how to love you

I'm unlearnin' what ain't right

I want you to keep speakin' my love language

Baby, talk your shit all night

Chris smiles widely and leans forward, pressing his lips against mine as he kisses me softly. I respond eagerly, heart fluttering at the tender gesture, wrapping my arms around his neck as he deepens the kiss, his hands moving from mine to my neck and then down again before finally settling on either side of my waist. I feel something awaken in me and makes me long for more of him.

He moves lower on the bed, his mouth kissing along the curve of my neck before moving down to the phoenix tattoo that he admired earlier on my hip. I let out a gasp as Chris kisses the tattoo, his tongue tracing the intricate design and sending shivers of pleasure up my spine.

I feel myself melt into him as he moves lower, his hands lightly caressing my inner thighs and pushing them apart, his fingers find their way to my most sensitive spot and I feel a wave of pleasure through me at the contact.

Why would I double back or do the same thing twice?

A question, somethin' that I can't deny

Lеft my baggage at the door, I'll claim you mine

All minе

“Fuck,” I breathe softly as his fingers sink inside me, Chris feeling how turned on I am. He leans into my neck, nibbling softly on my skin as his fingers make circles inside me, the pressure and sensation growing within my entire body and it shakes as he continues to tease and tantalize me.

I gasp as his fingers move within me as my hips move into his hand as he looks up at me, brown eyes gleaming with desire as he watches me moan in pleasure.

I can’t help but let out a moan at the sensation and I feel myself on the brink of an orgasm. Chris smiles wickedly into my neck, knowing that he’s driving me wild with every stroke of his fingers. His other hand moves up to caress my breasts.

“Mm,” Chris whispers as he watches me while brushing each of my nipples with his free hand, making me moan louder this time. “I love the way you fall apart when I touch you.”

You soothe me

You hold it down with every word you speak, oh, honey

Baby

It's been a minute since I had somethin' so sweet, mm, oh

Chris moves his fingers out of me and replaces them with his tongue, exploring every inch of me.

My moans increase in volume and fill the room as I feel myself getting close. His tongue moves in circles around me, alternating between soft and firmer licks, making me squirm in pleasure beneath him and pulling the best sounds out of me.

My hands reach for his blonde locks, pulling on them slightly as I feel his teeth graze my most sensitive area. I cry out again as he teases me with his tongue, pleasure coursing through my veins and making my body quiver.

“I-I can’t take this teasing much longer, babe,” I breathe out between moans of pleasure. “I need you so badly.”

If you're gon' keep speakin' my love language

You can talk your shit all night

You the medication when I'm feelin' anxious

That's the kind of shit I like

Chris pushes himself up onto his knees and looks at me with a smoldering look in his brown gaze, he moves up onto the bed, crawling over my body until he’s positioned above me.

His hands rest on either side of my head, pushing back any strands of my caramel brown hair that have come loose from our embrace, he gives me a soft peck on my lips as he starts to slide inside of me carefully.

I gasp as he fills me completely, my entire body feels alive with pleasure as he moves inside of me. I wrap my legs around Chris's waist, my black nailed hands gripping onto his back as he looks into my eyes, his gaze is filled with desire and passion.

“God, you feel amazing,” He whispers as he starts to move slowly within me, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through my body, making me arch my back.

I moan loudly in response to the sensations coursing through my veins, each movement harder than the last and pushing us closer to the edge of pleasure.

Teach me how to love you

I'm unlearnin' what ain't right

I want you to keep speakin' my love language

Baby, talk your shit all night

Chris’s hands move to cup my face, keeping his gaze locked with mine as he continues to thrust, the strokes taking up a bit of speed but also remaining loving and intense, which takes my breath away as my black nails leave scratches up and down his back.

I feel like I’m about to scream out in pleasure at any moment as Chris took me higher and higher. I could feel my skin becoming hot and flushed as every nerve ending in my body tingled with pleasure, the sensations overwhelming.

My nails dug into his back as I silently begged him to not stop but rather take me further along this blissful road.

Chris responded with each thrust, pushing himself deeper within me until it was too much for me to handle.

I shiver underneath him as an orgasm rocked through my entire body, the waves of pleasure nearly bringing tears in my eyes. He increases his pace even more, his breath becoming ragged as he came closer and closer to his own climax.

Finally, when I thought I couldn't be able to take any more, Chris follows closely behind, releasing himself into me after a soft but guttural growl escapes him as he collapses onto me.

We both lay there, panting for a few moments before Chris rolls off of me and pulls me into his embrace as he wraps his arms around me protectively from behind, holding me close as I relax into him.

I smile contentedly and snuggle closer to Chris with my back against his chest, feeling completely satisfied from our lovemaking session.

“That was amazing,” He whispers softly while planting small kisses over my shoulders and neck, his warm breath tickling my skin. “You’re so incredible.”

My smile widens as I turn to face Chris, pressing a gentle kiss against his lips before pulling back and propping myself on my elbow to look at him, tracing the lines of his face with my fingertips.

Baby, pardon my French, but could you speak in tongues?

Never lost in translation 'cause you know what I want, boy

Treat it just like Givenchy (Givenchy), it's expensive to taste…

My eyes were drawn to the beauty of his face, his strong jawline, sharp cheekbones and soft lips that has moments ago kissed me in ways that no person has before, the same face that I’d watched before in multiple music videos, in interviews, seen in magazines and posters of him and his band, Motionless In White over the years.

I trace the path of each muscle until I reach his chocolate brown eyes that are now looking into mine intently.

In that moment, I feel like there's no one else in the world but just us, and it made my heart flutter in a way I have never experienced before.

Chris smiles warmly at me as he gently takes my hand in his and brings it up to his lips, planting a soft kiss against the back of my hand.

“What are you thinking about?” Chris spoke softly as his fingers gently trail down my arm with my red ink snake tattoo, his gaze still locked with mine.

I smile and move closer to him, my hands tracing the haunted house tattooed on his chest as I ponder his question for a couple of moments.

“I’m just thinking about how lucky I am that I’m here with you right now,” I murmured against his skin softly as I trace one of my own fingers across his tattooed jawline.

Chris smiles down at me as his lips brush against mine tenderly before he tucks away a strand of my caramel brown hair behind my ear lovingly. He presses his forehead to mine, letting out a content sigh as we both lay in comfortable silence for a few more moments before I decide to break it.

“It’s been a while since I’ve felt this way,” I begin, thoughtfully. “I’d never thought I’d find someone like you who could make me feel so safe and loved.”

Chris looks into my yellow-green hazel eyes, understanding passing through us both like an invisible wave before he wraps his arms around me tightly, holding me close to him in comfort and appreciation.

If you're gon' keep speakin' my love language

You can talk your shit all night

You the medication when I'm feelin' anxious

I smile against Chris’s chest as I run my fingertips along his arm lightly, tracing his many tattoos and feeling how strong he is beneath my touch.

“I’m glad I found you too,” He murmurs into my hair as he nuzzles his face into it, taking in the scent of cinnamon and blood oranges. “I haven’t felt this kind of connection to someone in such a long time.”

I look up at him with a soft smile on my lips before turning and pressing a gentle kiss against his cheek, finding solace in the warmth of his embrace. I rest my head back down on his chest and close my eyes for a moment as we lay there together peacefully, enjoying each other’s presence.

Chris notices the peacefulness that this moment has brought and I can see that he wants to take it a bit further.

“I want you to know something, Lycia,” He begins softly, taking my hands in his own and looking into my eyes intently. “You’re always on my mind, no matter what I’m doing, whether I’m touring with my band or even being in the studio or regardless of where I am. You make me feel alive again and I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

I smile wider as tears gather in the corner of my eyes from hearing such sweet words from Chris, words I never expected to hear from anyone, let alone him. I wrap my arms around him tightly in response before gently pulling away so I can look into his brown eyes one more time.

“I love you,” I whisper softly before pressing another gentle kiss against his lips, conveying all the emotions that I was feeling once just through that single gesture.

Chris meets my kiss with one of his own, full of both adoration and passion as he looks into my eyes and notices the sincerity behind them, a warmth swelling in his chest.

He presses his forehead against mine once more, sighing happily as he holds me close to him, not wanting this moment to ever end.

"I love you too," He murmurs against my skin, letting out a content sigh as we stay there together for what seemed like hours but was actually only minutes.

As we break away, I curl into his bare chest, feeling the warmth of his arms around me. I hear the strong beat of his heart under my ear and feel his fingers move through my hair.

Chris holds me close to him, feeling the warmth of my body as our skin brushes one another’s. His heart’s beating steadily and strongly in his chest and I know he could feel the gentle rise and fall of my breaths as I press closer to him.

That's the kind of shit I like

Teach me how to love you

I'm unlearnin' what ain't right

I looked up at Chris and our eyes met with a deep understanding. His gaze is so full of love that it feels like his very soul is pouring out through them. The sensation overwhelms me that a single tear runs down my cheek. I finally have found someone who understands me and accepts every part of me.

Chris leans down and gently kisses the tear on my face before pressing his forehead against mine, a soft smile playing on his lips. He wraps one arm around my waist and pulls me closer while his other hand runs through my caramel brown hair, pushing some of the strands from my face.

“You are my everything,” He whispers softly before leaning in for a passionate kiss. The kiss is full of warmth and promise as we both surrender to the feelings we are experiencing at the moment.

I feel like this is where I truly belong; safe, warm and loved in Chris’s embrace. We break away after what seems like an eternity but in reality lasts a few moments before Chris gazes deeply into my hazel eyes again.

“I won’t let go of you, I promise,” He murmurs quietly before tucking my head into his chest once again, kissing the top of my head tenderly as we lay there peacefully together until sleep finally claims us both for a little while before we woke once more and continued what we started before.

We continued onward, making love from the darkest of night to the earliest of morning light. I was exhausted, sore but I loved every physical moment that I shared with Chris, even the lightest touch of his warm tattooed skin under my fingertips lit a fire in me and I’m happy.

As I lay beside him in his bed, curled up in his arms with my skin against his, feeling his chest rising and falling as he’s breathing and his heartbeat. I love how innocent he looks as he sleeps with me in his arms, I run a finger down his jawline, making him stir slightly in his sleep with a small smile on his lips. His chocolate brown eyes open after a moment and he looks at me.

“Mm, honey. Can't sleep?” He murmurs and his voice makes my heart melt.

I smile softly at him, I shake my head no at him and bite my lip to keep the tears from spilling out from my eyes, overwhelmed with emotion by how much I love him.

Chris leans in ever so slightly and caresses my forehead with his lips before pulling back to look into my eyes. He brushes a few strands of hair away from my face tenderly, his thumb caressing my skin lightly.

“How can I sleep when I have the sweetest man to ever exist laying by me?” I whisper as I run my fingers through his short blonde hair, letting out a content sigh as he wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me closer to him, the warmth radiating off of him making it impossible for me to not feel safe and secure in his embrace.

Chris smiles fondly at me, his brown eyes twinkling with love and admiration as he caresses my face gently with one hand before leaning in for a passionate kiss that seems never ending; our tongues intertwining passionately while our hands explore each other’s bodies eagerly.

When we break away from each other, Chris presses his forehead against mine while he lets out a small laugh.

“I’m so glad you’re mine,” He says before capturing my lips and I happily obliged him, we kissed until we both have to take a breath.

I let out a light hum as I trace the tattoos that cover his arm, resting my forehead back on his.

“I’m glad I’m yours too,” I whisper. “You’ve made me the happiest I’ve ever been.”

Chris smiles at me and pulls me close into his arms.

"Me too," He says softly, nestling his head into the curve of my neck. We lay there for a long while in comfortable silence, only the sound of our breathing filling the room.

"I want to spend every second of my life with you," Chris says as he looks deep into my eyes.

I smile brightly and kiss him tenderly on the lips, feeling a warmth spread through me and a deep sense of contentment as I realize how lucky I am to have found someone like Chris.

I run my fingers through his blonde hair, playing with it absentmindly as I look into his warm brown eyes that holds so much love for me that I feel I could get myself lost in them forever.

I close my eyes and let out a contented sigh before pressing myself closer to Chris, savoring the moment we're sharing.

"I feel so safe when I'm with you," I whisper as I snuggle further into his embrace.

Chris smiles and kisses the top of my head before stroking my hair lovingly.

"Honey, I want you to always feel safe when you're with me," He said softly as he holds me close, letting out a satisfied sigh when I drape one arm around his body and nuzzle against him for comfort.

The two of us stay like that for a while, just enjoying each other.

"I never want this moment to end," I murmured, lifting my head so our eyes met.

Chris grins down at me and brushes away a strand of my caramel brown hair from my face tenderly.

"Me either, baby," He said softly before capturing my lips in a passionate kiss that seemed to go on forever, speaking volumes even without words about the love we have for each other.

When we finally break apart, I let out a content sigh before I snuggle against him again, letting the warmth of his body get me back into sweet dreams full of love and happiness.

I want you to keep speakin' my love language

Baby, talk your shit all night….

Credit to cafekitsune for the divider. 🖤🤌

#darkness finds you universe #chris motionless x lycia winters #chris motionless #motionless in white #chris motionless fanfic #i ship these two so much #Spotify

7 notes · View notes

calsgotdepression · 1 year ago

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nice outside 1

When my uncle died, I stared at the guitar he gave me until my eyes crossed. When my grandmother died, I listened to her voicemails left on my phone. When my aunt died, I saw a photo taken of clumps of her hair. I’ve never met either of my biological grandfathers. Apparently I look a lot like my mom’s dad. My dad’s mom was too far gone by the time I could have memories of her. My grandfather is losing his memories by the day. Grief is a strange kind of sadness. From the time I started to remember my life, I can’t remember a time where there wasn’t a lingering sense of dread hanging over me. That sadness is a part of me, it made me who I am. But grief, it seeps into you and bores into you as if digging more holes for you to crawl into. How long can a person cry before they die of dehydration? Sometimes I wonder if people actually care about me, or they just stick around because they feel bad. Like hanging out with a terminally ill patient to make their last days as enjoyable as possible. It’s funny how I want to cling to everyone and everything I care about, but always feel like I’m leashed by a higher power, taking me on walks like a dog with a noose around my neck. How is it that people who deserve all the life there is to give are taken away by death so soon? How is it that when I know I am one of the lucky ones, how I know that I was wanted, how I know I love so much and am loved that I still want to throw it all away? I’ve imagined my funeral more times than I’d like to admit. When I was born, my umbilical cord was wrapped around my neck. It’s not uncommon for births, but how is it that I was snipped free to breath my first breaths, when so many others don’t have the chance to see the sun? How can I live in a world that is so cruel, a world full of power and war where I sit as bombs fall, unable to move, waiting for the day to come? I don’t live everyday as if it’s my last, and yet I am constantly under the watch of a ticking clock that’s counting down. How is it, that when others look in the mirror, they like what they see? The face that stares back is my own, equally full of disgust for his reflection on the other side. Is it cruel that we were given bodies, or is it cruel that we are given judgement for them? How is it that when I sit and cry tears that burn my eyes, that I’m not the only one? How can I still love this world that lets people feel this way? I believe there is peace in death, but there is none for the living. I’ve lived almost two decades, and it’s nothing, nothing at all, but when is it that I start to feel better? The way I was before medication and transitioning was reckless and hopeless and under a despair that I felt so deeply, I felt I had to cut it out of me. I’m scared of other people. Now, it’s better, and I have no regrets about antidepressants or therapy or transitioning. I’m happier, but I’m not happy. My parents talk about me when I grow older, and imagining things I’ll be doing. How do I tell them I don’t see myself living to see them die? How do I tell them when I’m the happiest I’ve ever been, I still feel like there’s no hope for me in the end? How will they tell my friends when I’m dead that I couldn’t beat the illnesses? How can I tell everyone it’s too much for me? Am I too fragile to exist? Is my wanting to be kind a terrible thing that will leave me discarded as a stepping stone, another statistic, another story to tell like I’ve told about my deceased loved ones here? I don’t want to see my parents die. I don’t want to see my cat die. I don’t want to see my friends die. But how could I do the same to them? I want to hold everyone close and scream to them that I love them and I love you and I don’t think I’ll ever fall in love and it’s okay but am I destined to be alone? When one of my friends tried to kill themselves, I felt an emotion deeper than sadness, deeper than hurt. And still, I think about taking my own life. How do I care so much for others, when I feel like they don’t care about me? Am I too broken to be loved? To be cared for?

#depression #anxiety #dysphoria #dysmorphia #sui thoughts #ramblings #tired #grief

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lindsaystravelblogs1 · 2 years ago

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Days 46-47 - Aborted Landings

Day 46, Monday, 30 January 2023

Why was there land outside our window when we woke up today? It was a puzzle. If we were travelling west along the ice-shelf and our cabin in on the starboard side, the ice-shelf should be on the port side. We eventually discovered that we were actually not sailing west. We were in the huge Bay of Whales, heading south with the eastern shore of the Bay outside our window.

The ship slowly sailed south as far as it could - to 78 degrees 44 Minutes South – blocked only by a few thousand kilometres of 40-metre-high ice. We stopped very close to the iceshelf and everyone was encouraged to go out on the helicopter deck and wear their orange Ponant jackets for a couple of group photos. Once the photos were taken, we were all given a glass of Champagne or two – not another one! It was pretty cold on deck but lots of photos were taken by everyone as well as the official photographer before we all scurried back in to warm cabins and more food and drink.

We did a ship-cruise around part of the Bay then returned north to continue our passage along the Ross Iceshelf. There were frequent periods of fog and snowfalls that often reduced visibility to about 20 metres.

We had a excellent lecture about Humpbacks, the whale we are most likely to see in the next week or so. We have previously seen quite a few on other voyages and they really are magnificent creatures – inquisitive and playful and very happy to show off for the humans.

We saw many seals and penguins, mainly Adelies and a few Emperors, and had several call-outs to view non-existent Orcas. We did see quite a few of them, but always a long way away with very poor views, lots of splashing and diving and resurfacing in unexpected places, making photography very difficult. Time after time, there was a sighting and everyone threw on an extra layer or two for the stampede to their preferred deck, only for us all to stand there, scanning the ocean and feeling our fingers slowly stiffening in the extreme cold. Nary a ripple so everyone trudges back to their cabin, more likely to one of the bars, to wait for the next wave of excitement.

Orcas - mainly males, with straight-backed fins up to two metres high.

Heather had gone to a few French cooking classes and we both went along to one to learn how to make butter brioche. The end product didn’t really excite me and there seemed to be a lot of time and work going into the process so if ever I find the need for one, I think I will source it from Brumby’s or Baker’s Delight.

During the afternoon, we had a lecture on Shackleton, given by perhaps the best French guide. We had quite similar lectures from Nina, our great Australian storyteller on our Aurora voyage, and many of the snippets were identical. On the other hand, our French guide was obviously not as enamoured by Shackleton as our Aurora guide, but I still regard him with honour – a heroic failure to say the least.

The Recap covered a few useful things about more of the wildlife down here as well as some of the huge historical and scientific significance of the area we are approaching. The Precap also promised great things – some of which actually happened.

Day 47, Tuesday, 31 January 2023

I think we lost our sixth hour last night and you know what they say about tomorrow...... Tomorrow never comes – and for us, it most certainly won’t – and didn’t. We will cross the International Date Line later in the day and suddenly 31 January will become 2 February with the first of the month going completely AWOL. Go figure!

Very soon after waking up, we looked out of our window and saw Mt Terror with the top of Mt Erebus behind it. I think Erebus must now be my most favourite mountain. It was a glorious sunny day, minus seven, but it is surprising how we are accustoming to the cold. As long as our skin is at least minimally exposed, we can stay outside for quite a while with just a parka and without the huge expedition jacket that seriously impedes our movement and makes many simple tasks surprisingly difficult.

Ross Island marks the end of the Ross Iceshelf. Mounts Terror and Erebus are both on Ross Island and Erebus is the southernmost active volcano on the planet. It was such a clear day, and stayed so all day, that we had magnificent views of it all day. Smoke could be seen drifting away from the summit and for much of the day, we could also see Terror, although not as well.

We sailed along the northern side of Ross Island until we reached Cape Royds where Shackleton’s hut was situated. I visited this hut three years ago and getting to it was challenging. One guy just in front of me fell on the rocks and smashed up his face pretty badly – with a lot of drama to go with that – but that is a longer story. Given the terrain, I suspected that there would be no landing and as it turned out, I was right but for different reasons.

Shackleton’s Hut from way out at sea - protected by dangerous terrain and lots of less-dangerous Adelie Penguins.

The Expedition Team went out and found a possible place to land, but by the time they returned to the ship, the wind had driven the ice back in and the Captain decided that the risk of the ship getting trapped in the ice was too great so we had to move on. Landing aborted – and I thought that was probably a good thing.

We sailed on past Cape Evans to Discovery Point where Scott’s final journey started. The huge McMurdo Sound US base is immediately adjacent to Scott’s Hut and the NZ base is just over the hill. We were not allowed to land there due to the US activities near the Hut but it is the one that I remember best from our trip three years ago. (Shackleton’s hut is the next most familiar one, but I was not keen to revisit it unless there was an easier way to access it.)

Interestingly, I saw on Facebook that the equivalent Heritage Expeditions trip that we did in 2020 did actually land and saw both Shackleton’s Hut and Discovery Point on the same day that we didn’t - very strange!

We stayed around the base for an hour or two (it was our dinnertime) before returning to near Cape Evans where we hoped to make a landing early next day – the Tooth of February.

It had been quite a good day despite the aborted landing and with the extra time spent in the bar, we were just in the mood to fall asleep while pretending to listen to more of our audiobook.

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devilfic · 3 years ago

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❝where two are joined, relentlessly❞

I. go, go, loverboy.

parts: next plot: gotham city’s bound to discover it’s got a prized bachelor on its hands. selina kyle got it, you got it, and you’d quite like if it stopped there, thanks. pairing: battinson!bruce wayne x gn!reader cw: flirting, humor, one-sided pining (or is it?), minor jealousy. words: 1.4k.

a/n: a little something quick I wrote after getting back from seeing the batman for the second time. battinson has been on my mind for the last five days... it’s getting real bad.

Bruce knows you’re there, but refuses to give you his attention even as you lean against his desk full of shiny computer screens. He’s watching something only he could possibly make out, but he’s been doing that ever since he got home six hours ago. You were of the opinion that he deserved a break. “So,” you drawl, watching the way his eyebrow twitches just slightly, “Selina Kyle, huh?”

Quick as a whip, your boss finally looks at you, glares at you, “Have you been snooping through my things again?”

You throw your hands up in surrender, “God as my witness, it wasn’t on purpose!” If Bruce believes you, he sure doesn’t look it.

You were telling the truth, though. As Bruce Wayne’s (or, rather, Alfred Pennyworth’s) personal assistant, your work with Wayne Enterprises unfortunately crossed over with the Batman’s often. It had to eventually, as Alfred could only keep you in the dark for so long. You’d started as a mere errand-runner and ended up rubbing shoulders with the heir to one of the richest corporations this side of the eastern seaboard. That meant that the Batcave, as Alfred had so lovingly called it, was just as much your home as it was Batman’s. It wasn’t like you could ever find him in his actual home. Of course not.

“I just happened to see it on the desk when I came by to drop off this month’s financial statements this morning. Alfred said he wanted you to reconsider some properties here and there,” you tap the unopened manila folder by your hip, “and guess what happened to be right next to it?”

“So you were snooping.”

“I just happened to see it.”

“And read it.”

“Just what was in my line of sight.”

“What’s next? You’ll read my diary?” In a fit of annoyance, Bruce shuts off the recording and turns to you fully, the skin around his eyes marred with black residue.

Feeling bad for teasing him when he was so clearly worked up, you nod, “Alright, you’re right. That wasn’t cool of me to do. If there’s anything you wanna tell me about your... night life, you’ll tell me to my face.” Though still irritated, Bruce looks somewhat appeased by your apology. “So who is she?” But that was short-lived.

“She was a contact, someone who helped out on the Riddler case. That’s all.” Going even further, Bruce produces the same folder that you’d peeked on from before, fishing out a small, printed photo of the woman in question. You were struck instantly by the sharp upturn of her eyes, the strong lining of her jaw. Even though she looked pretty, she looked far from delicate. She kind of reminded you of a cat with the way her feline gaze arrested you in the photograph- or, rather, arrested Bruce. It looked like it was taken in the mirror, but no cellphone was in sight.

“She’s a stunner. Hope you didn’t scare her off.”

At that, Bruce chokes on a laugh, “I hardly think I’d have the power to do something like that. She can take care of herself. She is taking care of herself... in Blüdhaven.”

You hum, setting her picture beside her folder. Your eyes skim something about a Russian girl, a club, and a whole lot of cats. Bruce’s reports were always perfectly formal, but that wasn’t the case this time. He doesn’t stop you from reading on. Then, with a shocked squeal: “You kissed her?!”

A faint blush appears on Bruce’s cheeks as he turns away from you again, “She kissed me... twice.”

You choke on a half-thought when your chest twists. For a moment, you’re stunned, unsure what to call it, but it only gets clearer as it persists. Your eyes dart down to the pretty woman’s full lips and slim figure, and you imagine them pressed against Bruce in some shady alleyway (or maybe in a club, or maybe in her home). You wonder if it was romantic or steamy.

A quick glance at Bruce’s lips and you put a name to the feeling that’s wrapped around your throat. “W-Wow. Not many people in Gotham have had the privilege.” You, painfully, not being one of them.

Bruce, ever so observant, catches the change in your voice instantly. His baby blues narrow in that way that tells you he’s trying to figure you out. Before he could interrogate you on your mood shift, you pick up the folder in its entirety and start parading around the cave with renewed vigor. “So she skipped town, huh? Were you that bad of a kisser?”

You can’t see his expression with the folder pressed so close to your face, but you can hear the hesitance in his voice as he speaks next, “It had nothing to do with me. It was personal. Gotham wasn’t good for her anymore... never was.”

Your eyes catch on the name “Falcone” and you shiver, “Shame. I hear Blüdhaven isn’t much nicer. Would’ve loved to meet her.” You’re sure if you did meet her, you’d probably wanna kiss her too. If the jealousy didn’t consume you, that was.

In the same moment that you find the folder snatched from you, you also find yourself being yanked back from the direction you were headed in, and it becomes clear as to why the second you catch your bearings.

The pit below the Batmobile lies in wait, ready to have claimed you as its unassuming victim had you taken one step further toward the edge. You didn’t even want to think about what would have happened if you had landed on any one of the tools lying around down there.

“I let you down here because I expect you to behave. The least you could do is watch where you’re going.” Bruce has an ironclad grip around your waist holding you taut to his body and you feel his scolding tone travel down your spine where he’s touching you. More than that, you could smell him up close. The scent of Gotham’s unforgiving rain practically overwhelms you, partnered with his unfamiliar touch. You hate that you wonder, for only a moment, if this is how tight he held Selina when he- when she kissed him-

He releases you then, as if he could read your train of thought, and fully confiscates Selina’s file from you (perhaps for the better). You feel incredibly embarrassed, so unlike yourself. Perhaps your “little” crush on your boss wasn’t so little anymore. “I’m sorry. I should... probably go see if Alfred needs anything. I’ve bothered you enough.”

You almost trip over yourself trying to get to the elevator, calculating just how much alone time you now owed him to get that grumpy look off his face. So much for getting him to warm up to you.

You’re mere seconds from getting the gothic gate open when you hear Bruce call out your name. You whip around, eyes wide and waiting for another reprimand. Instead, you find Bruce standing rather awkwardly at his desk again, thumbing the corner of Selina’s folder and looking away from you the entire time. The silence stretches on for so long that you almost start to think you’d imagined him calling out to you.

Just as you’re about to ask if he’d spoken accidentally, he looks at you, “I never said you had to leave.”

Oh. “Are you sure? Don’t you have more Bat stuff to take care of? I don’t wanna distract you. Well, more than I already have.”

In response, Bruce pulls out a small stool from under the desk and rests it right beside himself, never taking a seat. “I could use a second opinion on something, actually. Been racking my brain about it for a few hours. If you don’t mind.”

Oh, wow. He’d never asked you something like that before. It was always Alfred coming to the rescue when the Batman needed help.

Carefully, you make your way back over to the desk and take a seat on the modest stool, glancing over the contents he’d had splayed out on his desk. It looked complicated already, “Well, if you don’t mind giving me the SparkNotes version of events, I’ll try to be of service.”

Bruce’s eyes flit from the ground to you, and you’re proud to hear him laugh. Even if it’s just a little one. “Afraid you can’t keep up?”

“Never, Mr. Wayne. How else would I have gotten this job?”

#bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne scenarios #bruce wayne imagine #bruce wayne one shot #bruce wayne #batman x reader #batman scenarios #batman imagine #batman one shot #batman #the batman #battinson x reader #mjwrites

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book-place · 2 years ago

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Don’t Blame Me

Warnings: MoM-Civil War-Infinity War-Endgame spoilers, character death, mentions of going crazy, killing, slight cursing, let me know if I missed any :)

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff x daughter reader, Vision x daughter reader

*not my gif*

Summary: You were gone- and Wanda would do anything to get you back

A/N: The bolded and italicized are song lyrics; the italicized are past events; Maybe I’ll do a part 2 following the events of the rest of MoM??

Inspired By: Don’t Blame Me by: Taylor Swift

Please don’t plagiarize my work, you may reblog if you like but I’m asking that you don’t steal my hard work

Don’t blame me, love made me crazy

A few months ago, Wanda Maximoff would never have even dreamed of finding herself doing what she was about to do.

A few months ago, Wanda Maximoff felt like the happiest woman on earth.

A few months ago, Wanda Maximoff hadn’t yet fought Thanos, who hadn’t yet invaded the planet to carry out his plan of bringing balance to the universe.

A few months ago, Wanda Maximoff's family was still alive.

A few months ago, Wanda Maximoff had never felt sorrow as deep as she felt every day that she woke up without them.

A few months ago, Wanda Maximoff would not have done the things she had done- was about to do.

If it doesn’t, you ain’t doing it right

She looked down at her trembling hands that were firmly clamped around the silver picture frame.

She couldn’t help the sharp intake of breath that occurred every time she caught a glimpse of the photo protected inside.

The most beautiful moment captured in time.

After the Civil War where she lost against Tony, Vision had offered to keep an eye on her, he had not planned on falling deeply in love and then be on the run together.

Neither one of them expected the baby, but they treasured it nonetheless.

They treasured you.

Finally forcing her eyes fully down, she took in the sight.

You were ten years old in the picture- having inherited special abilities from your parents that included fast aging at will- and you were in midair, legs spread out in a sideways split. You had the largest and goofiest grin on your face as your hair flew in every which way and your hands spread out as far as you could reach them.

Vision was sitting on the couch you had jumped off of, looking up at you with a loving smile and playful glint in his eyes.

Wanda sat on the other side of the couch, head buried in her hands. But even that didn’t stop the small smile on her face from showing.

Only seconds before that was taken, she had begged you to sit still and take a nice picture with her and your father, and you had promised. With her not knowing you had your fingers crossed behind your back, of course.

Lord, save me, my drug is my baby

Quickly reaching a hand up to rub away a stray tear that had begun wandering down her face, Wanda tried to collect herself once more.

Gently setting the frame down on the table, she took one last longing look at it before forcing her eyes away and ordering her body to move out of the room.

The Darkhold floated in the middle of the living room, just above the coffee table, black mist swirling around it like a second skin.

When she had been forced to free Westview and once again watch her family be ripped away from her, the book of the damned was the only thing keeping her semi grounded.

It was there to fill a dark void with something even darker, something that helped the pain go away momentarily. It gave her hope for a better life. One she could spend with her husband and daughter, without ever watching them be so cruelly taken away from her again.

Wanda didn’t know what she would have done without the book, where she would have ended up. But none of that mattered, because she had the book, and she was damn sure that she would be getting her family back.

I’ll be usin’ for the rest of my life

You had told her that you had been ready, that she didn’t need to worry about you.

“I am a Maximoff, after all.” You had told her when she tried to convince you not to come to Wakanda with her and her husband.

Vision had simply put a hand on her shoulder, giving her a look so full of love that Wanda’s heart would still swell to the day at the mere thought of it, “She is ready, darling. In fact, she was born for it.”

He had thrown a playful wink at you at the end of that sentence.

So with a defeated sigh, your mother gave in and gave you her permission to accompany her to Wakanda to try and save the world. Something that made fourteen year old you very happy.

I’ve been breakin’ hearts a long time

With the very last of her energy drained, Wanda had fallen to the ground in a heap, a gut wrenching sob escaping from the back of her throat as she looked over at Vision.

“Mom?” Your voice called from somewhere in the trees, to which the woman’s head snapped up, “Dad?”

As your form came into sight, Wanda quickly tried to scramble up, “No, no, no! Baby! Stay there!”

But you didn’t listen, eyebrows furrowing as you looked at her and came closer, “Mom? What’s wrong?”

Then your eyes landed on your father.

All of the color immediately drained from your face, “Dad?” You had called out hastily, rushing past your mom and over to his now gray body.

Once you got close enough to fully see everything, you let out a terrible shriek, hands flying up to cover your mouth as you took stumbling steps backwards.

Wanda was finally able to fully stand up, and she didn’t miss a single second rushing over and scooping your into a hug, cradling your head against her shoulder.

But you harshly pushed her away, “What happened?” You choked out, eyes already turning red from the tears running down your face.

A lump caught in her throat, “I had to-“ At that point she didn’t know if she was trying to convince herself or you.

“You did this?”

Those three words broke Wanda more then anything ever could.

The look of horror and betrayal and down right sacredness on your face was enough to haunt your mothers dreams forever.

“Baby, you don’t understand-“ She tried to take stumbling steps towards you.

But for every one that she took, you took two back.

“HOW COULD YOU!” You screamed, not caring if the entire world hear you, “HOW COULD YOU DO-“ You were cut off before you could finish your sentence.

Your eyes widened as you looked down at your hand, slowly disintegrating before your very eyes.

“No.” Your mother breathed out in horror, trying again to come closer to you.

“No!” You shrieked back, jerking your whole body backwards as if she had just kicked you in the ribs.

Even in your last moments you didn’t want to be near her.

She was forced to watch from a far as you- her only daughter and the person she loved most in the world- disappeared before her very eyes. And there was nothing she could do about it.

The universe seemed to want to punish her, letting her sink to her knees and she let out a deafening scream before crying harder than she ever had before.

It took two minuets for death to take her, too.

Two of the most agonizing moments of her life.

And toyin’ with them older guys

With a deep breath, Wanda blinked hard as if to rid herself of the memories. The memories that turned her life into a nightmare.

A muffled cry brought her eyes away from the book, and they slowly dragged over to the corner of the room, where a man sat with his hands and feet bound together, a rag over his mouth, and tears coming out of his eyes.

Just a day ago, he had been a simple mailman who had made the mistake of accidently peering through the window when he heard a loud noise and witnessing one of Wanda’s breakdowns as she trashed the house out of sheer agony.

Of course she couldn’t let him leave, so she brought him in and let him watch as she put the whole place back in order without ever lifting a finger.

She took slow and almost teasing steps towards the man before gently bringing a hand to cup the side of his face, “It’s okay.” She reassured softly, wiping a tear off his cheek, “I am about to make everything okay again. And you will be able to witness it.”

The man couldn’t even tell if she was trying to convince him of that or herself. But all he knew was that she was crazy.

A glare automatically hardened on Maximoff’s face, “Crazy?” Her thick accent was clearly shown through her anger, “You think I’m crazy?”

His eyes widened and he fiercely shook his head back and forth, not understanding how she knew. But being terrified nonetheless.

“I am not crazy,” She said slowly, bringing her other hand onto the other side of his face, her grip tightening, “I am a mother.”

A sickening snap was heard before the man’s body fell into a limp pile on the floor.

Just playthings for me to use

Wanda sighed, shaking her head disapprovingly down at him, “You could have gone home soon, but you just didn’t have an open mind.”

“I am not crazy.” She repeated to herself, not even sparing the man another glance as she turned on her heel and made her way out of the room, “I am doing this for my daughter.”

It hadn’t even taken a day of you being gone for it to really hit her. For everything to start reminding her of you.

Like her car, the one that you used when you were first learning how to drive. Or how the sky looked at your favorite time of day. She couldn’t fathom eating your favorite meal, nor would she watch any of your favorite movies or tv shows.

There was nothing she could seem to do to escape your spirit. In every room she stepped in. On every piece of furniture. Everything.

Something happened for the first time, in the darkest little paradise

She needed you. More than anything in the world she needed you back.

You had died yet again right before her eyes and there was nothing she could do to stop it. For the second time.

When everybody had been brought back into reality, it was as if barely a moment passed from all of those resurrected. Including you, so there wasn’t exactly a happy ‘reunion’ between you and your mother.

She was the reason your father was dead.

But nevertheless, you both put whatever was going on aside so that you could finally end everything. Beat Thanos.

And you did. But at a terrible cost.

Right before Tony had snapped his fingers, Thanos himself had gotten a hold of you, and drove his sword through your body without a second thought.

Wanda wasn’t the only heartbroken person filled with soul shattering sorrow. All of the avengers- your friends and family- had to witness you dying in front of them as well.

And then three weeks passed.

Three long, terrible weeks. The weeks before she found Westview.

And in those weeks, Wanda could feel her magic growing stronger and stronger because of her overwhelming storm emotions.

She couldn’t exactly tell how it happened, but one moment she was sobbing on the ground, and the next she was in a beautiful home with the love of her life and their daughter staring back at her.

It was a miracle.

Shakin, pacin, I just need you

“Come and catch me, mom!” You cheered with a laugh, throwing the door open and hurling yourself into the backyard.

Wanda felt herself let out a laugh as she jogged steadily after you, “Aren’t you a little old to be playing these games?”

You looked over your shoulder with a grin, “Never!”

What you hadn’t realized as you looked away though, was your father standing right before you, catching you in his arms before you could run anymore.

He looked down at you with a loving smile, “Now, what do we have here?”

You did you best to wiggle out of his strong grip in between giggles, “Dad! Let me go! Mom’s gonna try and get me!”

“Too late.” You heard her teasing voice behind you mere seconds before her hands attacked your sides in tickles, prompting laughs out of you as you wriggled around even more.

“N-No!” You protested in between fits of giggles.

Wanda couldn’t help but smile at the sight of her family. Together and happy once again.

And it was at that moment that she knew that she would do anything to preserve that happiness. No matter the cost.

For you, I would cross the line

She reached down and stroked the side of your head gently, pushing your hair behind your ears in slow movements so as to not wake you.

Things had begun to get complicated in Westview.

There were people- bad people- trying to take her family away from her once again. And she would not let that happen.

She would be damned if she let her little girl be ripped out of her life once again. She didn’t know if she would be able to survive it again.

And then there was her loyal husband. He had clearly begun to suspect something was happening, and she could not have that.

With the smallest and softest of sighs, Wanda forced her hand to move away from you and she stood up.

She was going to have a talk with whoever was responsible for what was going on in her town, and let them know what would happen if they didn’t leave.

Stealing one last glance back at your sleeping form, she closed your door softly behind her.

I would waste my time

“Come on, baby, I have to go.” Though she said it, Wanda had no agitation in her voice. She could never be mad at you.

“But mom!” You whined, reaching a lazy hand over the couch, not getting up from your lying position, “It’s supposed to be girls night!”

She sighed, running a hand up and down your arm reassuringly, “I know, honey, but there’s this errand I need to run really quickly for Auntie Agnes.”

You sighed, “I didn’t want to have to do this mom.”

Her eyes quickly widened and she dropped your arm, backing up, “No! No! Don’t you dare, young lady!” She warned.

You paid her no mind as you looked back up at her, your best puppy dog face on display for her to see.

By the time she slapped a hand over her eyes, it was too late, the damage was already done. She had seen her greatest weakness.

A groan escaped her, “Fine, fine!” She relented, moving back around the couch and plopping down next to you, lifting your head onto her lap gently, “But only for a few minutes.” She said sternly.

You let out a cheer as a smile bloomed on your lips, cuddling deeper into her side as you sighed in contempt.

Wanda let out a chuckle, bending down to place a kiss on the crown of your head, “The things I do for you.”

I would lose my mind

She shook her head once. Twice. Three times.

All of them were sharp and almost violent. Trying to get rid of something that wasn’t physically there. Trying to get rid of whatever feelings she could sense bubbling up inside of her. Whether it be guilt or sorrow- she couldn’t even tell at this point.

“I’m not crazy.” She repeated once more- brokenly.

They say, “She’s gone too far this time”

Stephan would try to stop her- others too, no doubt.

But they were all mere obstacles in her way. Nothing that couldn’t be thrown aside.

Wanda wouldn’t let him- or anybody- get in the way of her happiness. She had already given it up far more times than was fair to any one person.

She shouldn’t have to endure it any longer. She shouldn’t have to be the only person who’s only source to a meaningful life was denied.

Why should she be the only one to suffer when everybody else got back what they lost in the snap?

Don’t blame me, love made me crazy

“I did what I had to do.” Wanda whispered, practically cowering back from the horrified look you were giving her.

“What-how can I be here if I died?” You demanded, shock taking over every cell in your body as you were unable to comprehend exactly what you had just unearthed.

“I hadn’t meant for it to happen,” Your mother desperately tried to explain, “But it was a blessing- I have you and your father back now. We can all be together again.”

You shook your head, taking a stumbling step back in a manner that reminded her far too much of that day within the trees of Wakanda.

“I’m sorry.” Was all she whispered before closing the distance between you with two large strides, and she gently placed her hands on either side of her face.

The panic on your features quickly disappeared as her eyes glowed the same red that was coming out of her fingertips, and instead a confused look overcame you.

“Mom?” You asked, “What happened?”

She smiled softly, dropping her hands, “You were getting a headache, I took it away.”

You smiled at her, “Thank you.”

“Anything for you.” And she meant it.

If it doesn’t, you ain’t doing it right

Oh, how she longed to wrap her arms around you once more. Reassure you that everything was okay, become happy once more. Give you the long life full of joy that you deserved.

The life that you had been robbed of.

No matter what happened today, she had every intention of giving you that chance once again.

Lord, save me, my drug is my baby

Feeling the power of the book of the damned lingering around the room had suddenly become dizzying, and Wanda found herself stumbling her way into the bathroom.

There, she practically fell against the counter as she gripped the cool material, eyes finding themselves in the old and slightly cracked mirror above the sink.

There were dark bags under her eyes and her cheeks had sunken in to an unhealthy level. She hadn’t rested a full night or eaten a full meal since Westview.

And while her magic had become more and more powerful, it also took more and more energy out of her every time she used it, resulting in the other half of how sickly she looked.

I’ll be usin’ for the rest of my life

It was too late now, there was no going back. Even after she was able to get you back, she didn’t think she would ever be able to give up the book of the damned entirely.

She needed it. Just as much as she needed you.

Don’t blame me, love made me crazy

“How about this?” Wanda asked in delight, doing a small twirl and striking a pose to show you the full outfit.

You hid a giggle behind your hands, “You look-“ You cut yourself off when you couldn’t take it anymore and your giggles turned into full blown laughter.

Your mother let out a huff of air, crossing her arms, “Fine, not the black cat then.”

Stifling the rest of your laughter, you sobered up and smiled slightly as you said, “Mom, it’s Halloween, wear something fun.”

She jutted out her lip as she pouted a little bit, “I thought a black car was fun.”

The smile turned into a teasing smirk, “Just like you thought the alien and weird pirate were fun? And the-“

She scowled, cutting you off, “Fine, fine, I get your point.”

With a long breath, you pushed yourself off the bed and made your way into your mothers endless closet, “How about this?” You asked, picking up a red outfit.

Wanda’s eyes lit up, “A Sokovian fortune teller!” She immediately exclaimed, an idea already formulating in her head.

If it doesn’t, you ain’t doing it right

The sound of laughter from two different people bounced off the walls as Wanda entered her household, a smile tugging on her lips once it reached her ears.

Silently, she crept through rooms and peaked her head through the door of the kitchen, searching for the source.

There, was the sight of you and Vision standing in the kitchen with mixing bowls and ingredients that looked like everything needed to make chocolate chip cookies.

Her smile softened and she closed the door gently with a click, leaving the two of you to it.

Lord, save me, my drug is my baby

The sound of a crash sent Wanda’s eyes flying open, and panic immediately ensued.

Her head whipped from side to side, only for them to narrow in on the television, the source of the noise.

The tension in her body immediately relaxed and she slumped back against the couch, for the first time becoming aware of the extra weight against her lap.

Allowing her head to turn down, her entire expression softened when she saw you leaning your head against her, breathing even in a way that told her you were asleep.

On the other side of you was your father, his arm around you, even as he too slept through the movie.

She didn’t even lift a hand as she used her powers to turn the movie off, kissing the top of your head softly before resting her head on yours and closing her eyes again.

I’ll be usin’ for the rest of my life

Wanda’s eyes once again closed tightly and she shook her head back and forth, ridding herself of those thoughts- those memories.

They weren’t going to help her find you.

Some small part of her cried- screamed- at her that you weren’t going to be the same.

You weren’t going to be the daughter that she remembered. Just like you weren’t the same after the snap, or even in Westview. They were all just versions of you- versions that she created.

And this other you in another multiverse was most definitely not going to be you, she shouldn’t even-

No.

She had to stop, this was going to be you. And she would have you back in her arms, and the two of you would be happy once more.

And once she was able to get you and make sure you were okay and safe, she would then go for Vis.

She knew he would understand. The need to make sure their daughter was okay before she could even think about saving him.

But she would, and everything would be well again.

We Are Groot 🤎- @lovanitu @jvdethirlwall @ineedmorefanfics2 @sambucky8 @spidyyparker @irethepotato @femalemarvelself @mukbee @its-hell @ip747

#platonic #platonic imagine #x reader #marvel #mcu #teen reader #mcu x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x platonic!reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x daughter reader #vision #vision x reader #vision x daughter reader #daughter reader

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from-the-clouds · 4 years ago

Text

Kiss Me More - Zemo/Reader

Masterlist | Part Two

Summary: Reader works with Sam & Bucky and has a moment alone with Zemo upon their arrival in Riga. Loosely inspired by this song.

Words: 2.5k

Warnings: Kissing, heavy petting, minor TFATWS spoilers.

A/N: As if you couldn’t tell already when it comes to what characters I love to write for, I love a bad boy. This was meant to be a short, sweet fic and then I had to get all existential and invent an entire storyline around these two. I think there’s definitely room here for a multiple parts, if you’re interested. Let me know what you think!

----

“I’m going for a walk.”

Y/N didn’t argue with Bucky as he walked away stiffly. With anyone else, she would’ve been suspicious, but she knew Bucky well enough to know it was in her best interest to ignore any of his cryptic behavior. At the end of the day, she knew she could trust him.

Zemo’s flat was spacious and beautiful, and she wasn’t surprised by the ostentatious but minimalist decorating. Zemo excused himself into the bathroom to shower and freshen up. Sam eyed him wearily, but didn’t seem too concerned. Y/N sat down on a couch she guessed cost thrice as much as she paid monthly in rent.

“I’m going to grab some grub, want anything?” Sam asked after only a few moments of pacing around the apartment, seemingly checking to see if they were being set up.

Y/N shook her head no, the constant traveling over the past few days hadn’t been great for her appetite.

“Will you keep an eye on him?” Sam said, flicking his eyes in the direction of the bathroom, where she heard the patter of the shower running steadily.

“Of course,” she answered. Zemo had a reputation, she’d seen it herself. But she didn’t know him to the same extent that Bucky and Sam did. So far, he’d only been polite to her so she wasn’t exactly scared or intimidated about any sort of confrontation.

Plus, she was only here as a favor to her friends. She was hardly talented or important enough to be an Avenger. Bucky and Sam knew they could call her if they were in a pinch. And right now, they were definitely in a pinch.

Picking up a book of photography from the coffee table in front of her, she flipped through it absentmindedly, admiring the photos of ornate architecture and crowded city streets before the click of a doorknob caught her attention. Zemo emerged from the bathroom with damp hair in a bathrobe, slinging a towel over his shoulder and immediately making his way towards the kitchen.

Y/N heard the clink of glasses and ice, and she returned her attention to the book. All the traveling was catching up to her, as her eyelids began to feel heavy, and the quiet in the room allowed her body to finally settle.

“Have a drink with me,” she was startled when she realized Zemo was standing over her, a cocktail extended in her direction. Not a question, a command.

“I’m alright, thank you,” she said flatly.

“I have to celebrate.”

Sighing, and abandoning the book altogether she closed it, sitting it on the table and crossing her arms, looking up at him.

“Come on, It’s one drink,” he winked, and pressed the cocktail into her hands. Up close, she felt like she was seeing him for the first time, rather than just another means to an end for one of Bucky’s missions. Zemo was good-looking, there was no doubt there. Tall, Dark hair, handsome enough to turn heads, but not so chiseled to be unapproachable. She guessed he was maybe ten years her senior, and while she thought being locked up for so long might’ve taken a toll on anyone, there was no trace of it in his features.

Taking it reluctantly, but still not entirely sold, she raised an eyebrow as he slowly sat down next to her. “All right, what’s the occasion?” she asked.

He lifted his drink, and she sighed, shifting her weight so she was facing him, meeting his eyes and lifting her cocktail so it was level with his. “To being a free man.”

They clinked glasses and she took a sip, the bite of the liquor concealed by a sweet and smooth aftertaste. Whatever he’d made her, it was good.

“Temporarily,” she added after a moment, watching him take another sip of his drink.

“What?” he asked, turning to face her.

“You’re only a free man temporarily,” she said.

“Touche,” he answered, one arm stretching over the back of the couch, his hand nearly touching her shoulder. He gave her a devilish grin.

A surprising warmth fluttered in her stomach, and she turned away from him to sip her cocktail. She wasn’t ignorant. After all, she was the only woman in the group, she hadn’t missed his lingering glances and once-overs while they were partying in Madripoor. It would’ve been flattering, but she was probably the first woman he’d seen in years.

They sat in silence for a moment as Zemo leaned back to survey the room. She supposed she hadn’t done a good enough job of appreciating it the first time around, high ceilings, natural light, but just enough privacy to feel cozy and inviting. Another steely sip of liquor passed her lips. She hadn’t had a drink in god only knew how long.

“Tell me, doesn’t this work get exhausting?” his smooth, accented voice cut through the quiet. “Traveling all the time, getting beat up, the lack of sleep, or a routine, following orders…”

She shrugged, pondering a moment. “It’s not so bad. Plus, it’s not like I know anything else.” When she glanced over at him, his eyes were fixated intently on her, but he was unreadable. “I know you think I’m a monster, but I’m just doing what’s right.”

“What you think is right,” he corrected, and before she could bite back, finished his thought. “My people, my family. All gone because of what someone with too much power thought was right.” A sadness flickered across his visage, but disappeared as soon as she could register it.

“I’m sorry,” she rasped, earnest.

“And I don’t think you’re a monster,” Zemo said, shifting his weight so he was facing her dead on, tilting his head to the side and studying her. Something about his gaze felt sharp, like he could see through her. “You aren’t entirely sold on all this, I can see it in your eyes.”

His words cut deep, deeper than she was willing to admit to anyone, even herself. But what was normal? And could she ever be? “What makes you think that?”

“How often do you get to be selfish?” he asked. His robe gaped open a little at the top, revealing a dainty silver chain necklace clasped around his neck with a small charm dangling from it, pale skin and a smattering of chest hair. “When was the last time you got to sit down, relax, enjoy yourself?”

Glancing down at the drink in her hand, feeling slightly vulnerable, she felt a smiling playing at the edges of her lips. “I could ask you the same question.”

“I’m enjoying myself right now,” he said, and she raised her eyebrows. “What, can you blame me? Good whiskey, a beautiful woman by my side.”

Her jaw dropped slightly, holding back a smile. Warmth crept like vines up her neck, pooling in her cheeks. “You should be careful,” she warned. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were flirting with me.”

He leaned closer and she could smell the scent of his aftershave, smoke and musk, heat from the shower still radiating off his body. Maybe the whiskey was getting to her. The corners of his mouth turned up ever so slightly as he lifted the drink to meet his lips, pitching his head back to finish off the liquor before discarding the empty glass on the table in front of them.

“Would it be so bad if I was?”

Outside, the sun passed behind a cloud, and the room dimmed ever so slightly, casting shadows that caught along Zemo’s cheekbones, his jawline. The waning light made her all the more aware of how the energy in the room had shifted.

“It’d be unprofessional,” she said, voice low, and he seemed much closer than he’d been before. But he wasn’t the only one closing the gap, she realized she was definitely, inadvertently, meeting him halfway.

“Oh well,” he said, softly. “We wouldn’t want that, would we?” Her eyes adjusted to the light, and up close, he was mesmerizing, deep brown eyes filled with longing. His gaze made her stomach turn, and she knew she should be disgusted but she just couldn’t bring herself to feel anything other than intrigue.

Shaking her head no, she couldn’t find the words to speak. Maybe because she wouldn’t believe any last attempts at protest. Better to save her breath.

The Baron’s hand, cool from the icy glass, rose to cup her cheek, so gentle and tender, his thumb brushing over her bottom lip. Frozen, all she could do was breathe slowly as her heart raced. “Zemo-” she began weakly.

“Helmut,” he corrected. “Call me Helmut.”

Y/N gave no answer, unable to remember what she had been protesting when he leaned forward and pressed his lips against hers.

Goosebumps rose along her arms, ears ringing, as he kissed her. The arm he’d been resting on the couch behind her pulled her closer, and her own free hand rose to his neck, letting him take control.

Her lips parted and his tongue traced her bottom lip, deepening the kiss. He groaned into her mouth, the vibration raising every hair on her body. Oh, she knew it was bad, but she hadn’t felt so desired, so wanted in years. Wandering hands lazily slid down his neck, to his shoulders where her fingers pushed underneath the loose neckline of his robe, palms exploring the broad expanse of his chest.

Her skin tingled, every exposed surface aching to be touched, explored by him, and maybe he could tell as his hand left her jaw to coast down her torso, all the way to hook behind her knee and pull her leg across his lap, an invitation to straddle him that didn’t go unnoticed, but she’d need time to decide whether or not she was willing to go that far.

As for exploring, he wasted no time bringing his hand back up her stomach, to hover lightly over the curve of her breast, squeezing gently as to gauge her reaction, a request to continue, and her breath caught in her mouth, her body instinctively pressing against him. His thumb found the peak of her nipple even through the padding of her bra and thin t-shirt.

Her lips parted from his to let out a breathless moan, and his mouth trailed down her neck as her fingers tangled in his hair. His tongue and teeth passed over a particularly sensitive spot, which he discovered when she let out a strangled gasp, and doubled down, sucking and grazing over and over until she finally couldn’t bare it any longer and she pulled away.

Zemo’s face hovered inches from hers, and she wanted to give him some sort of excuse. That this was wrong, they shouldn’t be doing this, but she took in his equally unfastidious appearance and decided not to waste her words on something so cliche. He looked utterly breathtaking.

He didn’t move away, just smiled gently. “How does it feel...to do the bad thing?” he teased.

Y/N couldn’t help the giggle that passed her lips, feeling lightheaded and giddy. “Not so bad at all,” She should’ve been enraged, she should’ve wretched herself out of his arms, but she was engulfed in his scent and his comforting presence, unwilling to leave. It wasn’t so terrible to be selfish. It was her who closed the gap between them again.

He smiled against her lips, hand returning to hook behind her knee once more, and this time she obliged, shifting her weight so she could straddle his lap and his hands met both sides of her hips as she cupped his face, fingers in his hair on his shoulders, kissing him with unbridled passion.

She could feel his excitement through the fabric of the robe, and knew she was getting carried away, but every nerve in her body smarted for contact. He was impossibly warm and she couldn’t get enough of it. Rolling her hips forward to tease him, he let out a groan and arched upward. “Oh, liebling, I wish we had more time.”

As if on cue, she heard the scratching of the key in the front doorway, and was immediately jolted from her reverie. Before she knew it she was off the couch and halfway across the room, just as Bucky entered, looking perturbed as always.

“Hey,” she said, turning her back to him and pretending to look out the window, voice unsteady. She heard Helmut clear his throat and shift his weight on the couch.

Busying herself in the kitchen, she let the curtain of her hair fall over the side of her face, hiding her clearly flustered appearance, her face was still impossibly warm, her skin sensitive, lips swollen. “How was your walk?”

“Fine,” Bucky said, and she heard him walking towards her as she absentmindedly pretended to wipe down the countertops. When he brushed past her to use the sink she jumped, finally looking him in the eyes. Bucky frowned. “Are you all right?” he asked.

Staring back at him for a moment she nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine, why?”

“You just seem a little jumpy.”

“There was a spider,” the lie came out so easily, so quickly, that she was actually ashamed of it. “It was big and I….I don’t know where it went.”

Bucky snorted, and whether he believed her or not, didn’t respond. “Where’s Sam?” he asked.

“Out getting dinner,” she said, feeling her heart rate begin to turn back to normal. Bucky washed his hands and shook the excess water off in the basin.

“If you don’t mind, I think I’m going to lie down,” she said after a moment. “The jetlag is catching up to me.”

She turned around and left Bucky in the kitchen, returning to the lounge area where Zemo turned to look over his shoulder. “Allow me to show you to the guest bedroom,” he said, an ornery sparkle in his eyes.

“Fine,” she said flatly, wondering what exactly he was planning and just intrigued enough to resist an argument.

The bedroom was just out of Bucky’s earshot, down a short hallway. As she stepped over the threshold to the awaiting large, inviting bed, a hand on her waist halted her in her tracks.

“I’m not finished with you,” she could feel his breath on the back of her neck, the scent of his cologne overwhelming her senses once more. It took a great deal of control to pull herself away from him, as she turned around and grabbed the doorknob, dragging it towards her. “We’ll see about that,” she said quietly, shutting the door in his face and letting out an exhausted breath. She’d awakened a monster, and now she had no idea what to do about it.

---

PART II out now!

If you’d like to be tagged in future parts, please let me know!

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tooth-and-flesh · 3 years ago

Text

𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐈𝐄 𝐱 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑🍒 [smut]

(𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒚 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒇𝒆𝒎𝒂𝒍𝒆 𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒂, 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒃𝒆 𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒏𝒆𝒖𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒍 𝒊𝒏 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒘𝒂𝒚𝒔. 𝑳𝒊𝒄𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒄𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒐𝒌𝒊𝒆 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒂𝒍𝒔𝒐 𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝒉𝒆/𝒊𝒕 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒏𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒔, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒃𝒖𝒓𝒏 𝒔𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒔 𝒐𝒏 𝒉𝒊𝒎 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒎𝒂𝒈𝒊𝒄)

𝑨𝒏𝒚 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒖𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒄𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒊𝒔𝒎 𝒊𝒔 𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒄𝒊𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒅

[mc] was just finishing up cleaning from being in the hot tub outside their house, their hair wrapped in a towel with another towel covering them from the collarbones down. water dripped from their skin and hair as they stepped into the bedroom.

now, [mc] had finished up early today- usually they'd come back at around 10pm. but, tonight they had come back at 8pm, since they had suddenly remembered that they had work to finish for the book they were currently studying and writing an essay on to get a better understanding of the topics in the book they were about to write.

it took them a good second to comprehend the scene in front of them. Licorice had his dinky little phone open to a picture he had taken of the two of them- they had recently had a night to themselves of relaxing in the hot tub, and they actually had a really fun time-

but, here it was, drooling over the photo as he mindlessly pleasured himself. his visible eye was droopy as he squished his thighs together, his dick twitching in his hand as he felt himself nearing his release.

suddenly, he paused and looked over to [mc], making direct eye contact with them before his hands flew away from his dick, ripping the sheets and comforter over his lap as he slapped his phone off of the bed, screeching a bit and retracting his head back into his cloak. he was completely naked other than the cloak, having been too lazy to take it off-

and oh, was that a treat to be greeted with. [mc] just watched him for a few moments, crossing their arms over their chest as they waited for him to control himself.

he finally peeked out from under the shield of his dreads, his visible eyebrow upturned in worry as he tried to read your face and figure out if they hated him now.

he was surprised to see that they were already crawling onto the bed, letting the towel drop from their hair as they rested their hand on the comforter.

Licorice stared in disbelief as they started to gently squeeze at that spot, his body feeling like it was on fire. does [mc] really want to touch him like that? they aren't disgusted with him??

a million thoughts ran through his head at once, feeling far away from the situation as they tugged down the comforter and sheets. his cock slowly lifted, fully hard still, with precum leaking from the slit on the head of his dick.

Licorice gripped at the sheets on either side of him tightly, completely malfunctioning as they slowly and softly traced their index finger over a prominent vain on the underside of his cock, making it twitch a bit.

he let out a loud gasp as he felt [mc] wrap their lips around the head of his cock, immediately hallowing out their cheeks as they sucked up all of the precum from him.

his left hand shakily moved to entangle itself in their hair, his legs spreading apart and shaking as they started to deepen the rapid sucking of his cock.

some drool leaked from their mouth, slowly dripping down his dick as they pushed their head down until it reached his pubes. its hips bucked instinctively as [mc] choked around it.

obviously, his dick wasn't that big, but it was still enough to start to feel the tip slip down their throat slightly.

[mc] was absolutely soaking wet at this point, and definitely not from the hot tub.

Licorice was drowning in pleasure, its head thrown back and the scars on its neck and torso clearly exposed as it shakily lifted its legs over their shoulders, its toes curling.

"[m-mc]!~" he squealed out, his lips parting to allow his mouth to open in a silent moan, starting to grip at their hair a bit more.

"i c-can't.. hhhold it~.." he whimpered down to them, drool dripping down his chin as he watched tears form in the corners of [mc]'s eyes, constantly slamming their lips all the way down to his balls and pounding the tip of his cock down their throat repeatedly.

"cu-aaH~! c-cumming! [mc] i-i'm cumminG!~" he cried out, pressing both palms to the back of their head as his legs lifted into the air, his toes curling and his legs shaking as cum spurted from his cock into the back of [mc]'s throat.

they choked down all of his cum, finding he was cumming a lot just from a bit of head.

[mc] slowly lifted up, wiping their mouth and pushing Licorice's legs back until he was pressed onto his back with his knees almost touching the mattress on either side of his head, his body feeling fuzzy from that intense orgasm.

"do you want to be in or out?~" [mc] purred, reaching down to rub their thumb over Licorice's chest firmly.

oh lord, is this really happening?

Licorice stuttered slightly. nothing like this has ever happened before, especially not with his biggest villain crush ever. but, because of that, he didn't feel he was completely ready.

"o-out.. is good.." he panted out, throwing his head back and squealing as he felt [mc]'s wet pussy slide against the underside of his cock.

they bit their lip as they slid his dick up and down the slit of their pussy, the tip sliding in a bit on accident from how wet they were.

Licorice took a moment to glance up at them, and was extremely happy it had looked up at that exact moment.

[mc]'s towel slowly slipped from their body, uncovering their breasts. they were teasing their own nipples between their right hand's index finger and middle finger, panting softly while rubbing their clit slowly against his dick.

he started to drool even more, feeling his own heartbeat in his dick as his eyes trailed down to your soaking clit. the wetness made it extremely easy to slide around, and some of it was dripping down your thighs.

Licorice was extremely proud to have made someone so attractive get so worked up over him, letting his legs spread so he was almost in the shape of a V.

"y-yes~ mph~... please [mc]~.. rrub it against m-me~ just like that~.. sso wet~" he whispered to himself incoherently, his eyes droopy as his dreads fell away from his eyes.

[mc] snapped their hips forwards before bringing their hand away from their tit, moving it down to place it on his chin gently.

"do you still want it out?.." they spoke quietly, tears forming in their own eyes from the overwhelming pressure building up. all they could think about was Licorice's soft, dripping dick sliding in and out of their pussy-

Licorice quickly shook its head, letting a pitiful moan escape its lips.

"n-no.. please.. i c-changed my mind- i want you.. i want you now.. please.."

that was all the convincing it took for [mc] to promptly reach down and grab his dick, giving it a slight squeeze before pushing themself down onto it.

Licorice squealed and tried to hide his face in the pillow under his head, shaking his head back and forth as he let out a loud moan.

"p-please! fffuHh~" he whimpered, his hips bucking. [mc] suddenly let out a lewd moan, spreading their legs.

"L-Licorice~ aHn~" they breathed out in a whine-y tone.

they instantly began to bounce themself up and down, letting out a lewd cry every time Licorice's cock pounded up into them.

"[m-mc]... w-wait.. i.. i'm g-gonna.. i'm gonna cum again.." he whispered breathlessly, looking up at them with pleading eyes. he had only lasted a few moments but- this overwhelming pressure was too much for him. his dick twitched inside of [mc], begging for a release.

[mc] promptly lifted themself off, giving Licorice a quick kiss before turning around.

only until they rested their clit against Licorice's lips did he actually understand what they were doing.

Licorice promptly began to lap at their wet pussy, making quiet slurping noises and sucking on every part his lips could touch.

they grinded down against his tongue as they felt it slip inside of them, starting to jack them off with a firm grip. he moaned up into their clit, sending vibrations through their body that made [mc] moan out Licorice's name.

the man below them look this as a sign he was doing good and swirled his tongue around inside of them, sucking and lapping at the wetness coating the inside of their pussy before moving further up your pussy to suck on your clit, shakily reaching his hands up to use his thumbs and spread the lips of [mc]'s pussy.

he firmly moved his tongue up and down, making their legs shake in pleasure and their hands freeze for a moment.

"L-Lic-ah~ pllease~.. your.. your tongue.." [mc] whispered, leaning down to suck the precum from Licorice's twitching dick.

Licorice bit his lip a bit before putting his whole mouth over their dripping clit, moving his jaw in a gentle eating motion as he flicked his tongue up and down.

he let out a loud moan against their clit as he felt them release into his mouth, his hips bucking up as he came once more into [mc]'s mouth.

after a long while of panting and whimpering, [mc] finally turned around to look at Licorice.

his eyes were a bit clouded over from how tired he was, panting like his life depended on it with his face covered in the wetness of [mc]'s clit.

[mc] reached up to put their thumb on his chin, slowly pulling his face closer before giving him a soft kiss on the forehead.

Licorice closed his eyes and squirmed closer to them, his legs feeling cottony from the intense orgasms.

"i.. i love you [mc].." he whispered into their ear, curling up and pressing himself against them.

[mc] nodded and gave him one last kiss on the forehead, fixing any tangle in its dreads from whipping its head around so much.

"i love you too, Lico.. get some rest now, lovely.." they mumbled, moving the hair from his face as he promptly shoved his face between their boobs, humming quietly to himself.

[mc] snorted before letting him relax there, only falling asleep after Licorice had done the same.

#cookie run x reader #cookie run #reader with female genitalia #pronoun neutral reader #licorice cookie #licorice #smut #lemon #licorice cookie smut #licorice smut #licorice cookie lemon #licorice cookie headcanons #crk headcanons #crk #cookie run kingdom

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modx-reborn · 3 years ago

Text

The first prefromance

Something I spoke of in a discord I'm in.

So here have Simpbur and CamGirl/Camboy reader doing a show with them after working his way into their close circle.

(Yes this plays off of the two cam asks I have gotten recently)

Also please know that real cam girls/boys aren't actually going to do this, this is purely fictional in its makeup.

SMUT UNDERCUT! MINOR DNI!

"That's it j-just like that, all the way like you should be taking me. S-shouldn't be here fucking my hand w-when I could be fucking you, such a pretty thing so good for me, but such a slut t-to let others watch you like this..."

That was the last thing he had said to you on your last private call, since then he had wormed his way further and further into your shows and even into a bit of your personal life, or well your on-screen personal life, as he had the phone number you kept aside for work, from your days as a more in-person performer.

And boy did he ever make use of the number, sending you little messages and photos whenever the thought struck him, peppering you in small doses of affection and savouring the way you called him sometimes when you skipped a stream, offering him to listen to you get off instead letting him hear when you spoke about the toy he had sent you. Sometimes even getting him to call and ask for you to listen to him, getting you to mutter things to him and work him that little bit closer to his end.

But now what you're calling for may just break your dear simp, having had all the fun you could with the silicon imitation he had made for you, that now your mind was thinking about how he would feel rather than the toy. 'S-shouldn't be here fucking my hand w-when I could be fucking you' his own words playing on repeat in your head after you close down your last stream, sending little thank yous to the top donators before moving to the call ping that was coming through.

It was him. Perfect.

"Ahh, there he is, my pretty top boy Simpbur!"

"That was quite the s-show, but what did you mean by you're w-working on something big with someone else?"

"Well, that's good that you asked my dear. You are always so good for me, sending those little messages and all those donations, I was thinking you may want to help me with the next stream..."

"Y-you want me to-"

"Mmhmm, didn't you say yourself that it should be you fucking me, or was it that you should be here in me rather than fucking your hand?"

It's easy to finish your sentence with a tilt of your head, tapping one of your fingers against your bottom lip as if you were actually trying to remember when truly you were just teasing the curly-haired boy staring at you wide-eyed through your screen.

"I. Yes. I-I mean I would love to if you want me to..."

With his agreement the rest of the call was spent hashing out the rough details and leaving him open to suggest what he wanted to do for the show, leaving him with a wink and a reminder to 'Keep it simple' before you logged out and started to pack up and clean down the space you had been working in.

There would be a few weeks between your last show and the next one, having all the platforms you used teasing the next stream with images of the silicone toy being front and centre in all the images, a tease for all your viewers but a reminder for your dear simpbur that he would be more real in your world in a few days. Even when he made up his mind on what he wanted it was still so very hard for him to not scroll back through the recorded calls and streams, take himself in hand and work through the building need.

But he managed to keep his hands off, having worked himself up even before the actual day of the stream.

When you call him, he picks up on the first ring as always chipper and shaky in the same breath as he says your stage name.

"There's my good boy! You ready for tomorrow? Your first time in the red light after all, just want to make sure you're still down and want to do this."

"I-I am. I'm good and... and ready for tomorrow."

With a laugh and a quick goodbye, you hang up, heading off to the regular place you booked for longer shows needing to set up lights and the cams now, otherwise you would likely not have time when your co-star finally made his way to you. And how right you were, the moment the time for the stream rolled around he was there at your door, hands fiddling with the bottom of his button-up, mask and beanie on as if you hadn't seen his face a million times before.

Welcoming him in is easy, but getting him to calm down just enough to have him read back what the two of you had planned took slightly longer. You had him keep his mask and beanie on, using them as a way to keep him from having his real-world life ruined from doing this one little show with you, the suggestion also seems to put some of his nerves to rest.

When the cameras do start rolling, the stream on a start-up timer for switching on to a live stage, your chat on a large screen hanging over your laptop that was actually hosting the show, messages flying past as people are lured in at the promise of a different kind of show and the tagline mentioning a guest star. When the cam starts showing the room you're seated on Simpburs lap, thighs spread wide over his with his hands holding you close while you do your intro, his masked face pressed into your shoulder as he mutters something under his breath.

Your form rocking back into him once you're were done, slipping a hand under his beanie and tangling in his curls, making him groan just loud enough that one of the many mics would be able to hear him, laughing and cooing at him as you reach down with your free hand to wrap around his cock, slowly running your fingers across the heated flesh.

"You'll be good for me won't you? So pretty and brave being here on cam with me, getting a treat that so many would die for..."

His voice falters when you shift your grip, tugging on his hair just as you start to actually move your hand to jerk him off, slipping your hand out of his hair you reach for a little remote, making the camera zoom in as you close your thighs around him, burying his cock between your thighs. Cooing at him once again as his hands are braced on your hips, using this to bounce you on him, head tilted back and panting as he fucks your thighs.

The exposed skin of his neck calling for you to leave a few marks across, a little gift for him to remember this day by, or well more than the stream recording of course, pink and purple marks blooming across his neck as he changes the pace moving you more and more until you can feel him throbbing between your thighs.

"Oh, sweet thing you're cumming already? Are my thighs that good? Can't even hold on for the main performance, or are you that eager for more that you would cum now and still keep going? Hmm, what is it, pretty boy?"

The only answer you receive is a deep groan and the warm feeling of his cum seeping from between your thighs, spreading your legs to show off the mess to your cam, letting everyone who was watching see the mess that he had made. Reading your chat gave you a wonderful idea, they wanted more and you wanted to see just how far you could push your dear simp till he broke and lived up to his wants to actually fuck you.

Flicking across the remote once again the camera angle changes, showing a side view of the bed perfect for what you were planning to do, the angle giving your audience the best show as you move off his lap and kneel on the floor. Holding his cock with one hand as you lean forward to lick a stripe up his shaft, cleaning his mess off with your mouth, taking him fully once most of him was clean looking up at him through your lashes once you have taken him into your throat.

Watching how his eyes go wide, hands shaking when they reach for your head, his eyes flicking up to the chat screen reading over some of the words telling him to fuck your face, to make you cry and drool all over him, and other wanting to be where he was, whining over text that they should have been the one there with you. The majority calling for him to do something, building a need to move in him, slowly he is moving his hips, still sensitive after having cum not moments before but the feeling of your mouth wrapped around him was spurring him on.

Before long his hips are moving properly, holding your head steady as he fucks your mouth watching how you look up at him every time he pushes into your throat, tears building and falling with how harsh some of his thrusts are, but the image just makes him groan. Throwing his head back once again as he works himself back up, trying to hold out and enjoy this feeling for a little while longer, only you had other plans pulling away panting as you take in the way he looks.

Flicking your hands cross the remote once again to switch cameras for the final time settling on one that would let your audience watch how good your dear simp was for you, let them watch how full he makes you feel and how pretty he looks when he cums, when he finally gets what he wanted.

"You ready pretty boy, ready to finally get what you want? What you told me about on all your calls? Take you all the way like I should be taking you?"

"P-please, fuck just please le-let me fuck you..."

In his rush to reach for you, his beanie had come off, brown curls falling out in a mess that you tried to cover again only to have your hands smacked away in favour of him pulling you up onto the bed with him. Throwing your thighs over his own reaching for the bottle of lube you had left waiting to be used, coating his fingers before pressing them into you working you open with one hand as the other is pressed to your shoulder keeping you from moving away from his probing fingers.

"G-God look at you, do-don't even need to work my way up to two fingers, already so r-ready for them... Ready for me."

To quick are his fingers gone replaced by the head of his cock, easing his way in as he moans, hands grabbing your hips to steady himself as he finally gets to feel what it's like to be buried in you just like his toy replica had been so many times before. There is little time between him being fully hilted in you and him starting to move, his hands moving from your hips to under your thighs ignoring the sticky cum still staining them, pushing them back and using the new angle to fuck into you as hard as he liked.

Wanting to have you drooling into the mattress and calling his name, making you remember him and him alone so that if you ever did another show like this, it would be his number you called. That if he did this good enough, fucked you good enough that it wouldn't be on camera the next time he got to fuck you, it would be at your home in your bed, him calling your real name not this stage name you work under.

He comes back from his thoughts when your voice cuts through them, high pitched and whining for him to let you cum, for him to keep going to let you have what you had given him earlier, to feel him cum in you this time.

"F-fuck you w-want me to cum in you? P-paint your inside with me..."

The chat if either of you could see it was still it was running a mile a minute, calling for him to do it, to cum and let them see how it will drip out of you. Others call for him to deny you, keep you begging for your release while he took his own, but neither of you could see those words and so your ends draw near.

"T-that's it, god feels so. So good around me, j-just like I thought you would..."

The rough pace he set becomes almost brutal when he cums, there will be bruises in the shape of his hands come the next few days but that thought paired with the sight of your dear simp losing himself in you was what tipped you over.

The end of the stream was much like the beginning, albeit with a mess of brown curls keeping the camera from seeing how the mask had been pulled down and soft kisses were being placed along your shoulders, the moment you had given the final thanks and turned off all the gear the hands that were wrapped around your waist were pulling you back onto the bed, keeping you as close as possible.

After all the pressure of performing for people falls away, it's easy to give comfort to the man curled around you, wanting him to be comfortable with what you had just done. Once again tangling your hands in his hair only this time to give comfort rather than tease, cooing soft praise until the grip around you eases slightly.

"You did so well, such a good boy for me..."

#c: simpbur #dsmp smut #mcyt smut #k: praise #k: exhibitionism #k: teasing #k: face fucking #k: overstim #k: thigh fucking #cw: sex work #mxad

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fangirl-writes · 3 years ago

Text

Ghost of You

Calum Hood x Reader

Warning(s): death, mourning, Calum crying on stage. Angst.

Notes: I saw a video on tiktok of Cal singing his heart out to this song so here we are. Not revised, written in one session.

Summary: Based on the song Ghost Of You.

The boys were hesitant to keep the tour dates after what happened. Everyone needs time and they thought that the space between the accident and the first show wasn’t long enough.

But Calum disagreed. He assured his bandmates that he would have no trouble by the time the show came around.

They were skeptical, argued with him to the contrary, but Calum just looked at them with tears in his brown eyes and said, “Please. Please let me do this. She would have wanted me to do what I love.”

They didn’t argue after that.

Calum woke up the morning before they hit the road facing the side of the bed that would never be filled again.

He can’t sleep there. He hasn’t even made an effort to make the bed, holding on to the last outlines of where you had once been.

The sheets were ruffled and the comforter was pushed near the end of the bed, your pillow was propped up against the headboard where you had been sitting, drinking out of your coffee cup.

The coffee cup that still sat on the bedside table just next to your side of the bed.

A small tear fell from Calum’s eye as he noticed the ever fading lipstick stain on the rim. A subtle, but pretty pink that you always wore. The one that would sometimes stain his cheek before he went out on stage.

He wiped the tear and tried to smile.

Oh, what you’d say if you could speak to him now. “Wipe those tears away, Cal. You’ll be just fine.”

I’ll be just fine. Calum thought. Eventually, I’ll be just fine.

He got up from the bed, not bothering to prepare himself for the day yet.

His suitcases sat fully packed by the door; ready to be loaded onto the tour bus for the next few months.

He always had more suitcases than you did, for obvious reasons. But he swore you could fit everything you owned in that one little suitcase. A suitcase that wouldn’t be used again, and probably wouldn’t leave the closet.

Calum sighed, pushing away the thoughts and walking out of the bedroom. Trying to drown the thoughts of you out, like he always did, trying to think of anything else.

But he found walking down that hallway to make it especially hard.

In that hallway, in those photos, he swears he can see the ghost of you.

The first one hanging there is a picture of you and him that he used to find almost hilarious to behold. It was an older one, back when they were just getting big and he was still a teenager, it was one of you and him, taken when you were just a fan. Someone Calum didn’t think he’d probably ever see again.

But life works in mysterious ways.

The one across from that was the most recent, it was a selfie you took at Michael and Crystal’s wedding. Your tongue was hanging out of your mouth and you’d made you eyes cross, Calum was making a duck face, doing the same to his eyes.

It never failed to make him laugh.

Next was your first paparazzi appearance. You joked it was your claim to fame, being followed and snapped in a professional photo with Cal. It wasn’t anything special, really. Just a picture of the two of you walking down a street in L.A, holding hands and decked out in what was probably your laziest outfits ever. Calum had on a dark pair of sunglasses and you were smiling up at him, probably about to crack a joke to get that stoic look off his face.

The rest were either family photos, photos of him and the boys, you and your friends, or just silly pictures of the two of you together.

He tried to walk as fast through that hall as he could, trying to keep the tears from reaching his eyes.

But he couldn’t take them down. It might kill him.

He made it to the kitchen with little resistance and poured himself his own cup of coffee, trying to focus on the upcoming tour and not think about you.

He had deleted social media off his phone. He couldn’t take the constant notifications and reminders and apologies from fans. They missed you too, but Calum missed you an ungodly amount more.

He frowned when he saw the empty vodka bottle sitting on his kitchen counter. God his place was a mess. He needed to at least clean up before he left, maybe that’d get his mind off things.

Put on some music. Yeah, that’d be okay.

He finished his cup of coffee, washing the mug before hurrying off to get the other tasks finished before he had to leave.

He took out the trash, cleaned out the fridge, put away his dishes, swept the floors, vacuumed the floors, cleaned the windows, dusted the shelves.

All that was left was laundry.

He made it to the laundry room easily. But once he was in there, nothing was harder.

He filled a load with his dirty clothes, turning on the machine before tentatively reaching for the basket that held yours.

He blinked back tears when he noticed the old Zeppelin shirt sitting in there. The one that your wore when you ran away, and no one could feel your hurt.

“He’s a rockstar,” your family had said. “it won’t last.”

“I’m in love with him,” you had replied.

Too young, too dumb, to know things like love. Calum thought with a shake of his head. What did they know? But I know better, now.

Calum went through the rest of your clothes, a memory surfacing for almost each one. A old 5sos merch shirt that you’d worn on your first date, not even thinking about it. A pair of music note socks that he had a matching pair of. A pair of skinny jeans you had a love-hate relationship with. A white bra that you had thrown on stage at one of their concerts as a joke, only for it to end up catching on the neck of Calum’s bass.

He smiled at the memory. His entire face had gone bright red and he had looked down at you with an almost scandalized look. The other boys had to stop the song because they were laughing too hard.

He let your clothes lay back in the hamper after he was done. He didn’t see a reason to wash them yet.

But he tucked that old Zeppelin shirt into his travel bag.

He loaded his bags into the back of Michael’s car, ready to head to the bus. Crystal waved at him from the passenger seat, he waved back.

“You got your keys?”

Calum blinked, not even realizing he was going to need those now. “I didn’t even lock the door,”

Michael laughed, pushing his friend lightly towards his house again. “Go get them.”

Calum chuckled back, hurrying to do so.

It hadn’t even dawned on him that you wouldn’t be there to watch the house, that he needed to lock the door. He had already sent Duke to stay at Luke and Sierra’s but locking his door? He’d never even thought of it.

He grabbed his keys before pausing.

Yours were hanging there, too. A keychain with your initials on it dangling next to the keys.

He grabbed those instead.

“You ready for this, mate?” Ashton asked him as he slid into the back seat.

“Yeah,” Calum said, softly, caressing the keychain with his thumb. “Yeah, I am.”

And as Michael took off, looking back at his house, Calum could’ve sworn he saw the ghost of you.

***

The night was going great so far, the crowd was pumped up, screaming and hollering.

Cal had managed to get lost in the music, forgetting about his problems for hours.

Until the song he had been dreading all night.

He almost asked if they could take it off the setlist after he saw it.

But then they’d have given the sad, almost pitying look that they did when they talked about canceling the tour. And he didn’t think he could stand those looks again.

He took a deep breath as the piano notes began. He could do this.

“Let’s see those lights up in your hands,” Luke said, holding his arm up.

Calum reached his microphone and his breath caught in his throat.

Someone was holding a picture of you up. Almost as if they knew.

His eyes darted to a different part of the crowd only to find an even larger poster being held up and illuminated by the stage lights. It read your name, your birthday, and the day you-

Calum looked away again, trying to blink back tears.

“Wow look at all those-” Luke voice cracked and he cleared his throat. “Wow, you guys, this is...”

There were maybe hundreds of posters or photos being held up now along with the phone lights.

“You know, this is my first concert without her in a long time,” Calum found himself saying into the mic. “And this way she’s still here. Thank you guys. Thank you so much.”

The fans cried out in response and Calum cleared his throat, saying to his bandmates away from the mic. “Okay, let’s do this.”

Singing the song, Cal hadn’t realized how much it fit his situation until just then. He hoped it wasn’t some screwed up sort of fate that they would write this song and then he would lose you.

“So I drown it out like I always do,” Luke sang. “Dancing through our house...”

“With the ghost of you,” Calum chimed in, mind filled with thoughts of you. He didn’t drown them out this time, he just let them come.

“And I chase it down, with a shot of truth. Dancing through our house, with the ghost of you,”

“Too young... too dumb... to know things like love,” He could feel the tears falling down his cheeks. “Too young... too dumb...”

“You go!” Luke shouted, allowing the crowd to sing the chorus.

“So I drown it out like I always do,” They sang and Calum hung his head back, trying to hide his tears as he listened. “Dancing through our house. with the ghost of you.”

You would have loved this. You would have said that it gave you chills, hearing the crowd sing such a haunting song back to them.

“And I chase it down with a shot of truth. That my feet don't dance...”

“Like they did with you.” Luke sang the last line with the crowd before the stage went black and Calum rushed off to the side of the stage.

The boys followed quickly, wrapping him in a hug after they reached him, and for the first time since you’d been gone, Calum let himself just cry. He didn’t push it down or wipe his tears, he just cried. He let his best friends hold him and he cried.

But just there, like everywhere, wrapped in the arms of his friends, Calum could have sworn he felt the ghost of you.

#calum hood x reader #calum hood x y/n #calum hood x you #calum hood imagine

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liatieska · 2 years ago

Text

Adding on to my last post, here's some sad depressed Argyle:

Here he is. Sitting in his dirty bedroom. Clothes all over the floor, papers and different objects covering every surface available and then some, music tapes in every possible drawer. Just a complete mess. That's usually how it always is, but there's a key problem here:

Argyle isn't high. He hasn't been able to touch the stuff since everything that happened. He's been bone dry sober for over two weeks and it's terrible. His head is filled with burying bodies, super powered children of cursed experiments, and evil creatures under the Earth that want domination.

He didn't understand how Jonathan got through years of this. Course, he did get high quite often when they became friends, but still.

Argyle wasn't sober very often but when he was it made him think, and he wanted to do anything but. He knew he shouldn't, not in this head space, but he opened his dresser drawer and pulled out a metal lunchbox. He opened the container and pulls out a pre-rolled joint.

"Purple Palm Tree Delight." He tries to sound excited but it doesn't ring true. He sits on the floor and lights the joint. Argyle takes a long drag, motions coming natural. It feels nice, body seeming to finally still and his brain quiets.

After a few puffs he relaxes into the side of his bed and humming quietly. It's good, quiet. He stretches his arms over his head as a small smile crosses his face. He can relax.

His heart seems to stop beating as the sound of a helicopter sounds outside. Argyle's breath hitches as he starts to panic. His vision is fuzzy, he's getting dizzy. He didn't even realize he stood up until he had tripped over his own feet and fell against one of his desks.

Something hit the floor and shattered. Argyle didn't know if he screamed or not, it was like he was deaf. His eyesight seemed to be fading, blacking out. He stumbled over to his bedside table and to the phone. Argyle didn't even know who he was dialing.

------------------------

Jonathan was going through his polaroid photos from the last week. He'd gotten back from a visit to Hawkins and taken tons of photos for his corkboard. The phone on his bedside table rang. He jolted and sighed. Jonathan stood from his seat and walked out to the phone.

"Hello?"

"Jon, Jonny, hey man, I, I'm having a really really bad trip right now, I'm scared. Can- can you come over dude? I don't know when I'm gonna come down." Argyle was rambling through the phone.

"Woah, Argyle? I- Yeah, yeah I can come over I'll be over right away. Don't move, okay? I'll be right over."

"Okay. Okay." Jonathan hung up. He grabbed a bag and threw some water and a few snacks inside before heading out the door. Argyle's place wasn't too far, but he ran anyway. At the front door he took out his extra key and went inside.

Walking in he found his way to Argyle's room. When he walked inside his friend was balled up in a small cubby between the wall and a dresser.

"Argyle, Argyle, hey." He spoke softly as he strode closer. The man looked up and weakly smiled.

"Hey, dude."

"Hey. You alright?"

"I don't know man, I thought- I thought it would calm me down but, fuck, then I heard something and I freaked the hell out." Jonathan sat down next to him.

"I don't know how you do it, man. Be so calm and...neutral." He snorted.

"Thats an overstatement. I'm not calm about anything, dude."

"Well, then you're sure good at faking it."

"I guess I am. But, dude, if you're ever freaking out about something you can call me, you know?" Argyle hugged his knees.

"I don't know, Jon. It's just- you went through so much more than I did. I almost feel silly."

"Argyle, no, no. What you've seen is terrible, I wish...I wish you hadn't gotten involved. But that doesn't mean what happened to you doesn't suck. We're all in this together, we're here for eachother. I'm here for you." Jonthan squeezed his shoulder. A smile crossed his face.

"Thanks Jon."

"No problem. Now, want to watch a movie, eat junk, and braid your hair?" Argyle grinned.

"Fuck yeah, man."

#argyle #the party #jonathan byers #comfort #togetherness #lovely

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 years ago

Text

CTRL+ALT+DECEIT

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape; oral, fucking, stalking, hacking, threats, implied violence.

This is dark!Jake Jensen x reader and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: You find your pictures on someone else’s Insta but that’s not the only thing he’s stolen.

Note: Yay, another Jensen fic at last. I’m probably gonna try to work in more one shots between my series. I’m looking at Andy Barber, Ransom Drysdale, or Lee Bodecker right now for next week but we’ll see.

Thanks to everyone for sticking around and putting up with me and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

The chirp of the chat pierced your eardrum once more as you ignored it for the spreadsheet of dates on your other monitor. Working from home could be both peaceful and distracting but the third bing had you muting and pushing your headset to your neck with a grumble. You switched windows as the chat box blinked.

‘So why didn’t u tell me u had a bf?’ Zia’s bubble blipped up followed by impatient emojis.

“Wat r u talking bout?’ you typed back and clicked back to the spreadsheet to update the status of each course. That noise came again and you flipped back.

‘I’m not stupid! Come on. He’s far away but he’s cute.’

You frowned and tapped the space bar lightly. You were utterly confused. The only activity in your daily life were the general notifications from Tindr. You repeated the question and she sent an emoji rolling its eyes.

‘I’m serious.’ you replied.

She sent a link and then a laughing GIF attached to another bubbled response, ‘I’m not buyin it.’

You clicked on the hyperlink and a new tab opened. You scrolled down on the Insta as the air was knocked out of you at the sight of your own face. Not only were their pics taken from your public profile but several you’d never even posted. Your skin crawled and the bing sounded again.

‘So… an online thing huh.’ Zia pressed on.

‘I gotta work.’ you closed out of the window entirely but stayed on the Insta.

You scrolled through about a dozen or so selfies of you, each labeled as ‘missing my lady’ or ‘she’s so sweet, sending me pics to keep me company’. Your stomached roiled with mortification and the unsettling sensation of intrusion. It was easy enough to guess you’d been hacked but to think this was what the creep did with it was even more startling.

You changed the password on your Insta and went through the process of doing so with all of your accounts and ran a scan on your PC. You would likely have to file a ticket for a proper inspection with a specialist. You couldn’t help but shake as you went back to the profile after checking your bank account and PayPal to make sure it wasn’t worse than just pics.

You went back to the profile and found photos of the culprit. His spiky blond hair and glasses were unsurprising and his comic book tee shirt was even less. Your disgust was quickly replaced with anger as you hit the chat icon above his info.

‘Hey, jackass, care to tell me how you have my photos on your profile?!’

The read icon appeared almost and you saw him typing. It stopped and then started again.

‘You’re so beautiful, I wanted to share it with everyone.’

You scoffed at the message and cringed at the screen. ‘Are you nuts? Like actually. You stole my photos! You hacked me. Creep.’

You blocked him immediately after hitting send and logged out. You opened Excel again and tried to focus on the coloured cells. You could hardly process what you were doing as your phone began to vibe on the corner of your desk. It didn’t let up and you couldn’t focus past the incessant buzzing.

You snatched it up and several messages covered the screen as you unlocked it. ‘You really think that’s gonna work’; ‘You can’t block me’... several in a similar vein that you deleted before blocking the number. You silenced your phone and turned back to your monitor.

Suddenly the screen went black and you blinked. You hit the keyboard and clicked, assuming it fell asleep. It lit up again but all you saw was yourself staring back. Your mouth fell open and you ripped the clip-on cam from atop your monitor. You disconnected it as the notepad opened and typing flicked up across the white space.

‘I didn’t want it to be like this.’

You could move the mouse or backspace. All control was lost and you sat there helplessly watching the scrawl.

‘I think we’d be really good together if you only gave me a chance. Can’t you see I worship you?’

Your phone began to shake constantly and a private number flashed. You picked it up and hollered into the speaker, “leave me alone”. You hung up but it kept on and your screen turned to black once more. Your PC was still on but there was no reaction from the machine.

Fuck, you sat back and looked at your phone. You couldn’t even call work to tell them because the damn thing wouldn’t stop ringing. You put your head in your hands and grunted in frustration. How the fuck did all this happen?

🖱️

After your initial panic died down, you disconnected your tower and shut off your phone. You left your cell behind as it was just as useless. You hauled the PC down to IT at your work and filled out the ticket without giving intricate details on everything the weirdo had taken.

You left with a borrowed laptop. You wouldn’t sign into your personal accounts and stick to the company portal. You were embarrassed but happy to have a temporary solution. You got home and set up the new computer and reconfigured your wi-fi. You finished the last of the day’s work and ended the day with a glass of wine.

When you dared to turn your phone on again the next morning, it was filled with notifications from all platforms but each one you clicked on errored and prompted you to sign-in. All your new passwords were wrong and you knew it was him.

You checked the Insta and found a screenshot on his profile from the day before, your mouth agape in horror that could easily mistaken for surprise.

‘Her face when you pop the question on the call’. The caption made your stomach curdle and you nearly flung the phone away. You couldn’t comment without logging in or message. So you created a shell account with a throwaway email you used on Reddit.

‘Why won’t you stop?’ you sent the message through as you waited for your coffee to brew.

‘Stop what?’ he added a winky face with his reply and you growled.

‘You know who this is! Why are you doing this?’

‘Hmmm…’ he let the message hang there and you sat down with your mug and listened to the birds outside. ‘Imagine what someone else would do with everything I have.’

‘Look at what you’re doing. You’re ruining my life.’

‘Ruining? Sweetie, I’m watching over you. Protecting you.’

Your nostrils flared and you burnt your tongue on the coffee and planted it on the table so it sloshed over the sides.

‘Love you, sweetie. See ya soon.’

The chat box turned grey as you realised he blocked you. That pissed you off more than anything and you lobbed your phone away with a shout of anguish. This guy was fucked!

You were shaking so much you couldn’t even drink your coffee. You got up and paced until you could think straight. You dialed into work and told them you were taking the day off for a personal emergency and shut down your phone. You were too afraid he would find a way onto your work laptop and you didn’t want to have to explain that to IT too.

🖱️

Zia showed up on Saturday and she wasn’t happy. She buzzed up and banged on your door impatiently. You let her in and she crossed her arms over the strap of her purse as she crooked her hip.

“I know I shouldn’t have snooped but if you’re mad at me, you should’ve just said so. I would’ve backed off,” she scowled.

“I’m not mad,” you said as you backed into the front room and dragged your feet over the rug.

“Sure, you’re just ignoring all my messages by accident,” she stayed at the other side of the room.

“Not exactly, no,” you shrugged, “it’s a long story.”

“And you couldn’t shoot me a message to say that at least?”

“Look, I’m stressed the fuck out. I’m sorry but the only reason I didn’t answer you is because I can’t.”

“You can’t?”

“I can’t even turn my phone on anymore.”

“What--”

“Just--” you touched your temples, “I don’t even know how to explain--”

“Jesus, are you okay?” her anger slaked away as her voice softened.

“No, I’m not,” you sniffed, “I’ve been trapped in this apartment and I can’t think straight and I can’t even talk to anyone because my phone and my life is totally fucked.”

“How about we get a coffee and you can tell me once you’ve calmed down,” she said, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so worked up.”

“You don’t know how bad it is. I really fucked up,” you whined, “I don’t even know how it happened.”

“Is this about the boyfriend?”

You huffed and shook your head, “I told you, he’s not my boyfriend-- Let me get dressed.”

After you felt presentable enough to leave the apartment, the thought of getting away ushered you down the winding stairwell and onto the sidewalk. You and Zia walked down to the cafe on the corner where you always overspent on their specialty drink and caught up.

You ordered but when you tried to use your card, the machine beeped in rejection. You tried again but still no luck. Zia offered to pay and you promised you’d pay her back. Anxiety pitted deep in your stomach as you sat. You’d have to call the bank and figure out why eight dollars would bounce.

“So,” Zia said as she shaded her eyes against the sunlight streaming onto the open patio, “he’s not your boyfriend?”

“I don’t even know the dude,” you hissed as you almost overturned your cup, “Zee, those pictures, they were all on my phone. I never sent them to anyone. I don’t even know his real name and when I confronted him, he crashed my whole system and blew up my phone. I haven’t been able to log into anything because of him.”

“You’re shitting me,” she chuckled.

“Zee, I’m not fucking kidding,” you blinked, “don’t you think if I was dating some dude out in who knows where, you’d be the first to know? You think I’m wasting my time with the idiots on Tindr for fun?”

“No way,” she scoffed.

“Zia, look me in the eye,” you said as you gave her a stern look, “I’m freaking the fuck out.”

“Did you call the police?” she asked.

You sat back and closed your eyes. You were so swept up in the panic, you hadn’t even thought. You could report it to the police, just get a record of it even if they didn’t do anything else. You heard horror stories of hackers and how little could be done but you had to at least try.

“I guess I should go down to the station today,” you ran your fingertips along your chin, “I don’t know, I felt so alone, I thought--”

“And call your bank right now,” she slid her phone over, “figure out what’s going on with your accounts.”

You took her cell and dialed the number on the back of the card. You dragged your finger down the side of your cup as you listened to the automated message and hit the buttons to direct you to customer service. The hold song bubbled in your head and finally picked up as you finished the last of your mocha.

You explained the issue after giving your information as Zia sat patiently across from you. She watched the other patrons and looked out across the street as you waited on the representative on the other end.

“Looks like your account has been locked. Your savings and checking have been placed on hold citing possible fraud,” the woman explained.

“Well, can’t you unlock them? Why would they be flagged?”

“Hmm, well I see no suspicious spending so possibly… it could be due to an external lock, not us.”

“What does that mean?”

“I can’t speak to that. Have you received any communications from the Revenue service?”

“Revenue service? I don’t--no,” you gulped.

“I’m sorry, there’s nothing else I can tell you,” she said, “you should consider contacting federal services.”

You hung up and handed Zia her phone back. “Apparently, I’m under investigation for fraud? I don’t know.”

“Shit,” she took her cell, “are you sure?”

“It sounded like it but-- I gotta check my credit card,” you stood and grabbed your empty cup and your purse.

You stormed down the street to the ATM at the corner and inserted your card. LOCKED the machine made a hideous noise and you pulled out your card in irritation. You put your wallet and touched the sides of your neck as the heat swelled through you.

“I don’t understand--”

“Um, you should see this,” Zia said.

Zia turned her screen towards you and your heart dropped to your toes. There was a picture softened by a blush Insta filter and the caption read, ‘just got into town, surprising bae with flowers’. Over the cluster of petals at the bottom of the image were you and Zia sitting at the cafe patio.

You spun and searched around for any sign of the man and the bouquet. You could hardly breath as it felt like you were being squished between invisible walls. You clapped your hand against the wall and steadied yourself as Zia gently rubbed your arm.

“Let’s go to the station,” you croaked as tears welled in your eyes, “please.”

🖱️

The police told you everything you expected. Even as you showed them the photos and explained how you never met that man in your life, they only offered you words on a piece of paper. They’d file the report and follow-up in case of any further escalation. It was a non-answer, a cold shrug.

Zia went home with you as she offered to stay the night. You gladly accepted and the two of you cozied up on your bed and spent the night watching early 00s rom coms. You found it hard to relax even with her there. You couldn’t stop thinking about how close he’d been without you even knowing.

You at last began to doze off as Reese Witherspoon triumphed and exhausted by the endless maelstrom of dread, you slipped into a deep but perilous sleep. You were locked in limbo between waking and slumber, almost as if you could hear everything around you but remained blind and unknowing all the same.

You woke with a start as you felt like you were falling. You sat up and reached to the other side of the bed. Zia was gone. She must have got up to get water or use the bathroom. You took a breath and turned your legs over the edge. You got up groggily and lumbered across the room, your mouth dry and head aching. Some tylenol and water would do you well.

You hesitated as you noticed the bloom of light just around the corner from your doorway. Zia must be having trouble sleeping, you guessed as you kept on. As you came in sight of the front room, you heard a whimper and you backed up against the wall as tall figure stood before the coffee table. The flowers laid across the wood, slightly crumpled from a struggle.

As Zia whined, he jabbed her with his foot and she grunted around the rag tied around her mouth. Her arms and legs were bound behind her as the man loomed over her. You recognized his blond hair and glasses, the menacing blue eyes as he raised his chin and crossed his arms.

“Been waiting on you,” he stepped over her, “I was disappointed when I realised it was her. Good friend though, hanging around…”

“Don’t hurt her, please. What do you want?”

“You can’t figure that out?” he taunted, “huh, I’m sure you can guess what it will take for me to leave her in one piece.”

Zia wiggled and received another boot. You pushed yourself forward and he stepped closer, predatory as he dropped his arms and clenched then unclenched his fists. He chuckled as you stopped short and gaped up at him.

“She’s cute,” he said, “she can join us if that makes it easier for you.”

“You’re disgusting,” you snarled and winced as he reached out to touch your cheek. You fought not to shove him away, your eyes on Zia’s bound figure.

“Play nice and I will,” he warned, “every time I hurt her, that’s on you. I wish I didn’t have to do this to show you how much I love you.”

You shook your head as your lip trembled. He pressed his palms to your cheek and ran his thumb along your lips. He leaned in and you cowered as you realised how big he was. You didn’t expect that looking at him from the other side of a screen.

“Do we put on a show for her or did you want a little privacy?”

“You won’t get away with this,” you hissed.

“Oh yeah? I locked you out of your social media, your pc, your bank… do you really want to see how far I can take this?”

He smothered your murmured answer with his mouth and kissed you gruffly. He pulled away and looked you in the eye. He bit his lip and hummed.

“So, do we do this here?”

“You’re sick,” you grabbed his hand and wrenched it away from your face. You yanked him and directed him to the bedroom, “you monster.”

“Now come on,” he twisted his wrist around and grabbed your elbow, “I could’ve killed her. Don’t think I won’t.”

You quivered as he forced you back into your bedroom, the street lights casting shadows between your curtains. He flung you ahead of him, as strong as his thick arms would suggest. You stumbled and caught yourself on the side of the bed. You turned as the door slammed and he prowled towards you like a wild cat.

“Well,” he threw his hands up and you caught a glint of light against the lens of his glasses, “you want me to undress you or you think you can handle that, sweetie?”

You puffed in repulsion and looked away from him. Even in the dark, you could feel his eyes on you. You jittered as you reached to the neck of your loose tee and slowly raised it over your head. You dropped it to crumple on the floor and you touched the top of your shorts. You heard him moving around and shied away as he flipped the switch and light shone across the room.

You pushed down your shorts as you heard a thump from the next room. His jaw twitched as his eyes lingered on you and he reluctantly glanced away. He swung the door open and stormed out into the front room. You went to the door and heard his snarl.

“Stop fucking moving,” he rasped, “every time I have to tell you, I’ll pop another out.”

Zia gave a muffled sob as you heard a sickly crack and you hurried to look around the wall into the room. He blocked your sight with his broad chest and pointed you back to the room.

“I didn’t say you could leave the room,” he spun you and slapped your bare ass, “fast, fast, fast… before I lose my patience.”

Your skin stung from the strike and you tripped through the doorway as he followed quickly. Another slam and he poked you further into the room with his knuckle. You stepped away from him and tried to cover yourself as you faced him in horror.

He quickly swooped his shirt over his head and revealed a buff chest thick with blond hair. He kicked off his shoes and fumbled to undo his fly. He tilted his head as he looked you over and groped himself through his jeans.

“You know what to do,” he said, “I’ve seen the way you touch yourself… cyber security 101, cover your webcam.”

You shuddered as he beckoned you closer. He stopped you and put your hands on the waist of his jeans. He leaned in and nuzzled your temple as his hot breath seeped into your goosebumped skin.

“My turn,” he pushed on your hands until you pulled down the denim on your own strength.

He stepped out of his jeans and snapped the elastic of his boxers. You stood and latched onto those shakily. He ran his fingers along your arms as you pulled them past his erection and they fell to the floor with a whisper. You didn’t look down, instead staring past him as his hand swept up to cup your tits.

His fingers crawled up your chest and his hands wrapped around your neck. He squeezed and turned you so that your back was to the bed. He marched you backwards as you felt his dick bobbing between your bodies. You gasped as he pushed you down onto your mattress, your legs dangling over the edge as he came up to straddle you.

“Such a good girl,” he taunted, “look at you… I bet you’re wet already.”

He pulled a hand away and stroked his length as he raised himself on his knees. He clung to your neck as he leaned over you and planted his hand on the bed above you. He hovered his dick over your head and you closed your eyes.

“Put it in your mouth,” he ordered, “now, or I’m putting it in your ass.”

You reached up blindly and angled his tip against your lips. He dipped his hips down and you choked as he prodded at your throat. Your legs twitched as he forced his cock past your gag reflex and your whole body tensed at the intrusion.

He balanced on the hand above your head and the one on your neck. He thrust harder and harder as sloppy sucking reverberated around the room between his dark groans.

“That’s it,” he purred, “look at you taking my cock. I can only imagine how tight that cunt of yours is.”

Your eyes welled and you flicked your lashes as you tried to bat them away. You kept your hand at the base of his dick as you tried to ease his motion. He ignored your reluctance and only delved deeper as he brought himself to his limit, your lips touching the fuzz along his pelvis.

When you couldn’t breath, you slapped his hard stomach and he reared out of you abruptly. You coughed up spit as he sat back on his heels and released you. He huffed as he looked down at his glistening dick and climbed off of you.

“Stand up, turn around,” he snarled as his eyes flashed.

His glasses were low on his nose and he slipped them off entirely and folded them up on your night table. He squinted as he watched you stand and turn stiffly. He smacked his hand in the middle of your back and pushed you over impatiently. He stepped closer and tapped his tip against your cunt as you were exposed to him.

He bent his legs and poked along your slick folds. You were wet enough for him to glide in and fill you up completely. He was so big it was painful and you arched your back as you tried to take it. He pulled back and slammed into you harshly. You let out a garble and he repeated the motion, taking you off your feet.

He leaned over you and grabbed your knees, lifting them on the bed as he urged you forward. His hand brushed up over your ass and he pressed between your shoulder blades until your face was flush to the mattress, your arms bent around you like a broken doll.

He thrust again and the loud slap made you wince. He jerked his hips roughly until he found his motion, rutting into you with hissy breaths as his other hand groped your ass. He hummed as your body shook before him, ruled by his touch as your walls clenched him.

He pushed his thumb down between your cheeks and circled your asshole. You strained and lifted your head in alarm. His other hand quickly stretched over your crown and pinned your face to the bed. He felt along your cunt and slickened his thumb before trailing back to your puckered ring.

He pushed lightly at first and as he broke through you gasped and whined. You gripped the blankets as he moved his thumb in and out of you, his hips still rocking steadily into you. He slid his thumb out entirely and prodded with two fingers instead. Before you could react, he forced them inside and you cried out in surprise and pain.

“I know you want it, sweetheart,” he groaned, “I can feel…” he kept fucking you, “I can fucking hear it.”

Your holes tightened around you as he carried the pace. A new pressure began to bloom inside of you, unlike anything you’d felt before. The burning in your ass and the stretching of your cunt mingled to an agonized bliss. You sobbed into the blankets as you came uncontrollably around him, shamed by the unwanted release.

“Fuck,” he drew out the word as both his hand and his hips sped up, “look at you cumming for me. Cumming for this creep.”

You moaned and curled your fingers around the duvet tighter. You felt the same knotting deep inside and you came again as he reached a tantamount. This time, you gushed around his cock and felt the deluge down your thighs as the noise grew wetter and louder.

“Look at you, sweetheart, you can’t handle it, can you?” He snorted as he sucked in a breath suddenly and his hips staggered.

He pushed his fingers deeper and kept them there as he fucked you as hard as he could. He slammed into your cunt over and over. Your hips throbbed with each tilt of his pelvis and you smothered your cries as you felt him coat your walls in his release.

He stopped just as suddenly and dragged his fingers out of your ass. He leaned against you until your legs collapsed and fell onto you with a sigh. He covered your body with his as his shallow breaths hazed around you.

Your own heart raced as you stretched your arms out stiffly and quivered. You tried to pull yourself from beneath him. He kept you pinned under his weight and jolted you with a cruel thrust.

“Oh, we’re not done, sweetheart,” he muttered along the shell of your ear, “not even close.”

#jake jensen #dark jake jensen #dark!jake jensen #jake jensen x reader #fic #dark!fic #dark fic #one shot #the losers #dc

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kohakuarisaka · 3 years ago

Text

Trial By Fire (chapter 2 of 2)

Takami Keigo x (fem!)Reader

[ SUMMARY ] Hawks stopped by your apartment, asking for a patch up, and then asked for so much more.

[ WARNINGS ] R18+ for graphic sexual content and language. Role reversal: Keigo is a villain and Touya is a hero. Liberties were taken with Hawks’ quirk and is non-canon compliant. This fic is not nice to Touya. Reader and Hawks smoke. Reader has a quirk. Reader is a female with descriptive female genitalia. This fic contains graphic sexual content, including penis in vagina sex, oral sex, spanking, dirty talk, biting, degradation, and knotting. Consensual ♥

Keigo’s appearance in this fic was inspired by this lovely art piece!

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2

[ My BNHA Fanfic Masterlist ] ~ [ Also on my AO3 ]

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Todoroki Touya was a prince.

Being born to a top-ranking hero was almost the same as being born to royalty. Everyone recognized his name, his quirk might as well have been trade-marked, and he had lots and lots of daddy's money.

If that wasn't enough, Touya was incredibly handsome, too. He had a full head of stunning, bright red hair and beautiful, shiny blue eyes. His smile was charming and voice was hoarse and suave.

He was a skilled fighter, always topping the rankings at UA, the talk of all 'up and coming' news articles back in his teen years. His quirk was flashy and powerful, nearly unstoppable; but, he was also a dedicated hero that trained day in and day out to hone his combat skills.

The boy with the crimson wings couldn't have the fortune of being nobody. That would have been more preferable to his reality.

His father was a criminal, a thief and a murderer. His childhood home burned to the ground when an attempted arrest went horribly wrong, and resulted in half his body being permanently scarred by burns. But, no one would believe that a hero did that to a small boy, even if it was an accident. No, of course not.

No hero academy was going to accept someone with such a reputation, with a name like Takami, with a history of bloodshed, with the evidence smeared across his skin for all to see. He was in and out of foster homes for years before he could get his own place, funded by petty crimes and gang activity, the only way he could survive.

Touya was a prince-

-and Keigo was a gutter rat.

He wasn't the least bit surprised when you told him that Touya had asked you out, even less surprised when you told him that you said yes.

Of course you couldn't resist Touya. He was everything any girl could possibly want, and he could give you a hell of a lot more than Keigo ever could: fancy dates, lavish gifts, a nice family to go home to, a name with a shining reputation.

Touya could make you happy.

And so, Keigo stopped chasing you. He stopped hoping anything more would amount to your relationship. But, even if his life depended on it, Keigo could never stop wanting you, thinking about you, loving you. No one was like you, not by a long shot. No one understood him like you did.

But, you belonged to Prince Touya.

... ..

Hawks woke in a cold sweat, torn from a nightmare. He bolted upright, eyes scanning the room, panting lightly in a daze. His bare chest glistened with the evidence of his agony and his wings flexed out, feathers taut and sharped at the ends, defensive.

He glared at the unfamiliar walls, legs tangled in warm blankets. It took him just a moment to remember where he was.

There was a photo pinned to the wall by your desk: him and you at a spring carnival during your first year of high school. Your hair was longer back then and he had a black eye from a fight with some upper classmen.

The pillows and blankets on your bed were so soft and freshly washed, the scent of the fabric softener still wafting. You had dug out extra pillows and sheets for Hawks when made it clear he was intending to come around a lot more often.

Your apartment, your bedroom, your bed: that's where he was. The only thing missing from the room was you.

Hawks pulled himself out of a bed with a groan and snagged his sweat pants off the floor, where they had been discarded when he arrived. He decided to skip the underwear and just pulled the loose fitting pants on with a tired groan.

He didn't need to search the apartment to know you weren't inside. His feathers weren't picking up any vibrations from footsteps or breathing. It was too still, too quiet.

Confident of where you were, he opened one of the windows in your bedroom, nearest your desk, and shimmied onto the outer ledge, hoisting his torso through first before bringing his legs in until he was hanging outside. He kicked off the side, beat the air once with his wings to gain some momentum and flew up to the roof.

You let out the most undignified yelp when he floated up over the side of the building, bare feet toeing the edge where he landed, giving you an innocent, drowsy look.

"Holy fuck, you scared me," you hissed at him.

It was almost 1 in the morning, and you had slipped on a loose shirt and baggy shorts to head up to the roof for a smoke. Unsurprisingly, you were alone at this hour, able to enjoy the ambiance of the night without one of your neighbors mouth breathing or trying to strike up a conversation. They weren't bad people; but, you didn't want their company.

Even from up this high, you could hear passing cars, the soft squeaking of breaks and the occasional squeal of tires spinning on asphalt. Distant lights were constantly changing: traffic control, cars coming and going, people in and out of their crowded apartments.

"You're not cold?" Hawks asked as he approached you.

"Not really," you answered softly.

Despite that, Hawks flattened against your back. His hands dragged up and down your arms as if to warm them before winding around your waist. You felt more than saw his head droop over your shoulder. As he pressed in close, you felt what was his very shirtless chest fall against your back and the unmistakable outline of his cock against your behind.

"I see you didn't bother dressing," you scolded him, lacking any real malice.

"You like it," he challenged, reaching for your cigarette.

Before he could grab it, you brought it to his lips for him, turning your head to try and face him, despite the awkward angle. You watched him puff the end faintly before huffing out smoke away from you.

"Ohh," he hummed. "You bought the fancy ones this time."

"They're not fancy," you retorted gently.

He flapped his mouth, about to insist you let him buy the next pack. However, he caught himself, remembering how well it went last time. It had resulted in a fight, and you kicked him out, nearly pushing him out the window, not that he couldn't handle that, of course, and it was a funny memory, now that it was over.

Besides, if he was being honest, it was really hot when you yelled at him. Maybe not so much this time since it put him in the doghouse for a week. But, the makeup sex was definitely worth it.

You didn't want his money; 'blood money', you had called it. You adored him, maybe even loved him, wanted him, longed for him; but, you had no desire to take any of his dirty money.

You weren't delusional enough to think that that made you a good person, or somehow morally superior, not to Hawks, or anyone else for that matter. It was a choice that you had made for yourself, to try and get your life on the right track.

Maybe, letting Hawks into your bed was counter productive. He was a wanted villain, after all. Business could follow, even if he worked hard to prevent that. If Touya found out-

You shuddered at the thought, mind racing with the possibilities of what could happen. You didn't want to see Touya ever again, let alone talk to him; but, there was no guarantee that your paths would never cross again. Would he be mad? Would he try to hurt Keigo?

Sharply, you turned your head and kissed at his cheek, lips smearing across the burnt half of his face, as if trying to reassure yourself that that wouldn't happen. Hawks hummed, and you felt the vibration travel along his chest and throat and onto your skin.

"Don't burn your fingertips," he scolded you softly in a hoarse whisper, snatching your cigarette from the burning end.

You had been so lost in thought, you failed to realize the cinders were nearing your fingers, the flame having almost reached the end. You watched Hawks roll it between his fingers, drawing the paper into his palm where he crushed it. The flame died and he opened his hand, letting the wind carry the burnt remains away.

"Kiss me," you breathed, so wrapped up in the moment that you didn't care that you were outside.

He obeyed with a growl, hands grabbing at your waist harshly to spin you around. One hand flattened at the space between your shoulder blades, holding you tightly to his chest while he arched down and captured your mouth.

You heard and felt his wings beat the air, powerful and unyielding: an intentional display of dominance, most likely, that should have made your eyes roll and not your heart flutter. But, you had always been soft for Keigo, and this advancement in your relationship had only made that worse, until you became putty in his hands.

He clearly really liked to play with putty. It was bad enough that he was constantly twisting and turning your body to see what kind of positions he could put you in: something that you, unfortunately, found far more arousing than you should have. He loved to poke and prod, see what kind of noises he could get out of you. He also loved to see how far he could push your limitations.

"Baby," Hawks growled against your mouth, eyes hungry as he took you in.

"Let's be crazy," he suggested, low and hoarse, with a slight edge that made him sound like a stupid teenager again.

He tugged you in close, shamelessly rubbing his erection against your closed abdomen, and making his intentions known.

"Hell no," you retorted, smoothly, sure, but lacking in any real confidence in your rejection.

"Come on," he urged, hands and arms sliding away so he could skirt away from you.

You watched Hawks step towards the edge of the roof with the kind of confidence you would expect from a man that could fly. He casually sat down, rotated to sit longways, one leg spread out for balance while the other rested right at the edge. He leaned back, spreading one wing out along the gravely rooftop, while the other drooped over the side, feathers long and fluttering in the breeze like a crimson, tattered flag.

Hawks crossed his arms behind his head and laid back in full, looking boneless as he stretched out. He peered up at you with a wicked grin, eyes bright as they reflected the distant street lights.

"You're fucking ridiculous," you snapped at him, realizing too late that you were smiling dumbly at the shamelessly display in front of you. Your words lacked any real weight. Rather, you sounded amused or impressed, not angry.

God damn it.

"You love it," Hawks retorted with a soft laugh.

"No," you commanded, crossing your arms over your chest.

"Come on," he urged, rolling your name off his tongue like it was a delicious, sinful delight. "It'll make for a great memory - great story. Tell all your friends you fucked some guy on the edge of the roof. No risk: you know I won't let you fall."

"I wouldn't say 'some guy', even if I had friends to tell," you said to him grumpily, settling a weak glare on the winged villain.

Hawks removed his crossed arms from behind his head, placed one hand on the roof for balance, and leaned up. His cocky expression was gone, replaced with something soft, almost nervous, like he feared he misheard you.

"You'd tell them it was me?" he asked.

"Obviously," you uttered back.

A genuine smile found its way onto Hawks' face. Maybe, he was more deceitful than you gave him credit for. Maybe he knew damn well that you couldn't resist that face, that smile that lit up your heart, those mismatched eyes. Only foolish girls let themselves believe nonsense.

Maybe, you could be foolish sometimes.

You approached Hawks and he leaned back, excitement clawing its way onto his face as he realized he was going to get what he wanted. You smacked his chest and he fell back with a rough laugh.

A slight tug pulled his pants down enough to spring his cock free, already fully hard and leaking against his abdomen. Some distant thought was that you should have been surprised; but, Hawks had proved to be quite the animal, with such a miniscule refractory period and ready to go without much persuading.

You carefully slid on top of him, one leg braced on the roof against his side, while the other dangled over the edge. The weightlessness had you reeling back with a frightened whimper. Hawks grabbed your leg and pressed it tight against his side, keeping you planted on his lap.

"I got you," he whispered soothingly. "I got you, baby. I won't let you fall."

The bastard could fly. He was used to feeling weightless, to feeling nothing beneath his feet. You were not, and the very real risk of slipping over the edge was ever present when you felt the breeze, felt the lack of something beneath your heel.

However, when you planted yourself on Hawks, who was partially dangling over the side, you felt grounded. He felt sturdy and strong beneath you, no fear in his posture, arms and legs firmly planted, wings spread out to balance himself. He wasn't waddling back and forth with uncertainty.

It barely took you a second to relax, to feel safe when his hands gripped your thighs, holding you securely against his weight. Of course he could catch you; but, you doubted he would let you fall in the first place.

Sooner or later, you were going to have to learn to tell him no; but, that didn't have to be today.

"Have you done this before?" you dared to ask.

"Not with a partner," Hawks answered quietly.

You barked out a laugh at his answer, and watched a cheeky grin appear on the villain's face.

"What? Can a guy not jack off on the roof?" he barked.

"You're fucking horrible," you chuckled, slapping at his bare chest.

"I didn't splooge over the edge," he added on.

"You're ruining the mood," you scolded him.

Still, despite those words, and the obviously fact that he had in fact not ruined anything, you reached between your legs and grabbed at the hem of your shorts. They were wide enough that you could just pull them to the side-

Hawks choked on his next breath. You glanced up at his face. His head was angled down so he could steal a look at your sex so effortlessly becoming bare.

"Fuck," he wheezed, as if he hadn't seen you naked dozens of times by now.

Bare of underwear, fabric loose enough to just shift aside, you angled your hips until his cock caught on your folds. Hawks moaned when your wet slit trailed across his length, literally dripping over him.

"-ooohh, you're wet," he hissed softly, sincerely surprised at the discovery.

"You fucked me just a few hours ago, you animal," you retorted smoothly. Your level tone contrasted sharply with the sudden whimper that escaped you when his tip hooked on your entrance.

"Heh. Made you scre-"

Ah, you loved when Hawks gave you perfect opportunities to cut him off. You shifted your hips and sank down, enveloping his length in moist heat, and Hawks' words dissolved into a weak moan. There was no ache, as you were still prepped from earlier, likely still leaking some of him, as well.

Hawks wasted no time laying a hand against your lower abdomen. His thumb dipped between your folds and flicked skillfully at your pearl. The harsh texture of his calloused fingerprint had you whimpering and twitching. His other hand gripped your waist and guided you slowly up and down his length.

"Look down," Hawks instructed, not demanding, not crude, but soft and guiding. His eyes displayed a sort of devotion and hunger that had you helpless to do much other than obey.

Your eyes directed to the ground below, over sweeping floors, dozens of windows and a couple fire escapes. This high up, the ground looked so far away, cars like pill bugs you'd see waddling along the concrete at the community garden. Something electric shot through you, catching your breath in your throat, and Hawks let out a hoarse curse, hips shuddering.

"Fuck, you got tight," he hissed.

His hand let go of your sex and lifted up to cup your face. He turned you to face him, nudging your cheek lovingly with his knuckles. Immediately, you realized, it was his burnt hand.

You turned your head to kiss at his skin, tinged red from thick scar tissue and wrinkly. Slyly, he dipped his thumb into your mouth, the same that had been dipped beneath your folds.

"Don't be scared. I got you, baby," he cooed while you sucked the digit clean.

You smiled and laughed softly, popping his thumb out of your mouth with a lewd, wet noise. "Normal people are scared of heights, pretty bird."

"You're special," he protested, dragging his thumb across your bottom lip.

That praise had your heart fluttering, and you mentally scolded yourself for acting like a school girl.

He pressed down and dipped his thumb back inside, coaxing your tongue out until it lulled over your bottom lip. Normally, you swatted his hand away when he did things like that. But, it was difficult to resist when he was looking at you like that. One gold and one milky eye took you in with a heated gaze while he gently panted through slightly parted lips.

"That's a good girl," he praised, dragging the pad of his thumb over your tongue.

You likely looked ridiculous like this, impaled on his lap with your tongue hanging out. You almost wanted to smack him and tell him to quit; but, Hawks' hand retreated before you could tell him off.

That same thumb returned to your pearl, pressing down with just the right amount of pressure. He lifted his lips a little, encouraging, the corners of his lips threatening to break into a pleased grin. You gently moved along with him, finding harmony in a steady rhythm that had pleasure sparking at your guts.

Your eyes wandered, taking in his aroused expression, exploring the plains of his muscular chest, across the burnt skin on one half of his body, to the red feathered wings that jutted out from behind him. You didn't look over the edge again; but, the sounds of the city were ever present, reminding you of where you were.

"Someone could see," Hawks suggested darkly.

You shuddered, head lulling back, and let out a weak moan. You didn't consider yourself much of a voyeurist; but, that was oddly exciting. You were covered up well enough. They wouldn't see much of you, but the act couldn't be mistaken for anything but what it was.

Hawks shifted his hand away from your pearl and grabbed at your hip, long fingers curling around the thickest part for purchase. You didn't have a chance to consider the lack of stimulation before one of his feathers replaced his thumb, twirling and flicking insistently at your nub.

You moaned again, and let yourself go partially limp, somewhat held up by your hands braced against his chest, but more so by his stronger hands holding your center. You couldn't keep up with him, letting his hands guide you up and down to his length to his liking.

"-know how good it feels," he continued, some strain in his voice as pleasure spewed in his core.

He lost balance a little and the wing drooped over the edge flapped once. It wasn't particularly strong; but, it was enough to startle a jolt and soft yelp out of you.

Your hands slipped, and you were suddenly chest to chest. Hawks bent one leg to lift you higher on his lap, shifting the angle enough to bring him deeper and amplify the pleasure. His cheek slid against your neck and his lips met your jawline.

"You want them to know what a slut you are?" he snarled, less of a question and more of a suggestion.

The sensible side of you wanted to deny it. What good could possibly come of that? The feral side of you, that Hawks so expertly brought out, disagreed. You weren't ashamed of him. You were the happiest you had been in years. He made you laugh, he made you smile, and he made you come harder than you ever thought possible.

He kissed and bit a burning hot path across your jaw, drawing some loose skin between his molars beneath your ear, before wandering across your throat. He mouthed at your pulse, and the reality that he was a wanted murderer rang loudly in your ears.

You didn't recoil of fear or disgust. You moaned, loudly, arching your back and exposing one of yourself to him. He had to resist the urge to lift your shirt and bite at your breasts. If not for your modesty, than because your poor nipples had already been quite thoroughly assaulted not too many hours ago.

His dominant hand slid up your thigh, long, thick fingers effortlessly venturing up the leg of your shorts. He curled his hand around the back and dragged the pad of his finger along your union, gathering slick and remnants of his earlier venture.

Your cloudy thoughts didn't consider what he was doing, until that finger, now wet and slippery, was suddenly circling your other hole. That had you letting out a confused gasp. He didn't press in, just traced the tight ring of muscle curiously, and took your noise positively.

Hawks knew well enough, but the mischievous glimmer in his eyes gave it away.

"Aww. Did Touya never touch you here?" he teased.

He pressed in slightly, being answered by your muscles flinching tightly, if your lewd expression didn't tell him enough. You looked confused, maybe even a little annoyed, but the arousal was still present, thick behind the glare you tried to give him.

As inviting as the heat was, he didn't venture beyond the pad of his finger, which felt like a lot more than it actually was. It didn't hurt, but it didn't feel good, either. You didn't know what to make of it, but found yourself arching into the touch, and downright mewling when he slipped out and returned to circling the ring of puckered muscle, which surprisingly did feel good.

"O-obviously, that's not-" you hissed at him.

Still, through all his teasing and adventuring touches, his hips never ceased, forcing his cock into your sopping wet cunt again and again. The wet, fleshy sounds was loud enough to drown out the bustling city beneath you.

"No more than this," Hawks promised in a hoarse whisper, hot breath fanning out over your throat.

His fingertip eased back in, met with blistering tight heat, and you let out a strange noise, confused and perhaps a little discomforted. No, that was definitely not a place you were used to being touched. But, he wandered that territory carefully, ever akin to your desires. As new as it was, there was no denying the way that touch made your skin prickle.

"You like it," he observed slyly. "Dirty girl."

It probably would have sounded more teasing if he didn't already sound so debauched, thoroughly enjoying the opportunity to touch you as much as you enjoyed being touched. He had you wrapped around his finger. That much was certain. But, you weren't oblivious to the power you held over him.

"Keigo," his name slipped past your lips, breathless and dripping with lust. It wasn't really forced; but, you were intent on getting a rise out of him. "Keigo," and again. "Oh, Keigo," and again.

His teasing finger stopped and his hand shifted to grab at your meaty behind with an almost bruising grip. His pace was suddenly punishing, bouncing you in his lap almost ferociously while his hips pivoted to chase the sensation. He had you wheezing out breathless moans while he grunted and snarled beneath you.

"Close," he suddenly grunted, the word little more than a rumble in his throat.

"Yes," you agreed, deliriously high on the pleasure he pummeled into you.

It was impossible to know how he managed to hold off long enough to get you there first, or if it was specifically the tightening of your walls that got him there. You were mewling and twitching long before he howled out, and the heat of his seed burst inside you.

He was making a mess. You could feel it dripping down your thighs, sputtering out from his thrusting and leaking over his abdomen. Hawks didn't care, obviously, turning his head to kiss greedily at your mouth while his hips kept moving.

When he pulled back, you found yourself disappointed at the realization that he hadn't knotted. However, there was no way you were going to say that out loud. His ego was swollen enough already.

Careless to the mess, he lifted you off his length and helped you to your feet before adjusting his wet pants to at least clothe himself. Your combined fluids had made a mess all over the crotch of his pants, no doubt worse now that he tucked himself away. Your shorts were no better, and you could feel his seed leaking down your inner thigh.

The high wasn't quite over and Hawks was sporting an attractive red tint along his shoulders and chest, blonde locks an absolute mess. Still, at this moment, your focus was solely on getting back inside and cleaning up.

"You're the worst," you scolded him, sounding incredibly fond despite your insult. You took his arm instead of his hand and guided him back into the building.

Hawks swallowed a laugh and, together, you stomped noisily down the stairs. No one passed you by. If anyone spotted you, it went unnoticed. You hardly needed to drag Hawks, who was right on your tail. As soon as the door was opened, he pushed you inside, one arm wound possessively over your waist.

"Keigo!" you whined, flinching when his head ducked into your neck and gnawed at your skin.

"You got me riled up," he growled, pressing into you so you could feel how hard he still was. The sticky mess of his wet pants felt gross; but, you couldn't be bothered to care.

You wanted to tell him off; after all, you had done nothing, and he had done that to himself. But, you felt a tinge of discomfort at your core, aching and eager to be filled again. Your clit throbbed between your thighs, eager for more contact.

Hawks manhandled you onto the nearby wall, taking you by the elbows to plant your hands on the smooth surface. You didn't hesitate to make your consent known, arching your back and propping up on your toes as he roughly dragged your shorts down.

The fabric pooled at your feet, leaving your oozing sex presented to him. Your felt and heard his wings flap, so widely that they smacked against the walls in the small space. Knowing full well what he was doing, the sudden intrusion wasn't quite as surprising; but, still, he managed to force a startled moan out of you.

"Fuck," he snarled, forehead falling against your upper back.

His dominant hand reached around, circling your pearl as he found a steady rhythm. His seed from earlier oozed out, and it was equally disgusting as it was amazing. His free hand gripped your hips, holding you still so he could use you to his liking.

It felt amazing, and each shift of his hips punched a broken moan out of you. It didn't take long for you to feel it, the swell at the base of his cock, catching on your entrance, slowly working you open to take his growing knot.

"You want that, don't you?" he uttered harshly, tilting his head up to breathe the words into the space right above your ear.

Even though it was unnecessary, he made his point clear by shoving it all in, as deep as he could, and grinding, rolling his hips to let you feel the swell at the base.

You removed one hand from the wall, curved your arm back and reached blindly, skillfully finding his hair. Your fingers grabbed a fistful, rough but not enough to hurt him. Hawks snarled when you tugged him in, nails gently biting into his skull.

"You better," you whispered, demanding and hoarse, and apparently delicious enough that he had to stop his thrusts and tilt his head in for a kiss.

Suddenly, the closeness was everywhere, back to chest, thigh to thigh. You tilted your head back to make it easier to reach, and let Hawks kiss his way into your mouth possessively, first with soft lips before his tongue edged the soft skin apart. He dragged along your teeth before trailing your palate like he was tasting something divine.

Eventually, he was satisfied, parting from your lips with a loud pop, licking his own lips as if he had just enjoyed a delicious meal. He carefully peeled back, cock slipping free from your heat, hands letting go when he was confident you wouldn't fall.

An open palm collided with your behind, and the sound echoed around the apartment, drowning out your surprised squick.

"Get on the fucking bed," he all but snarled, the words clawing out through gritted teeth.

Your legs, steadier than you expected, carried you to the bedroom. Hawks, however, tackled you onto the mattress before you could make it, forcing you onto your back with his weight.

He chuckled into your skin and you squealed with laughter. Despite the impact, he was surprisingly gentle, mindful of his strength. Crimson wings flapped, nearly smacking into the ceiling. You briefly feared that he would get hurt on the ceiling fan, but immediately determined that he would be more likely to break it than be injured by it.

He peeled your shirt off, leaving you nude beneath him.

"I've made you such a slut for knots, hm?" he observed, leaning up on his knees to hover over you, and give you quite the view.

His cock was an angry shade of red, thick and heavy where it hung between his legs, almost tinted purple on the tip with the need for release. He had just a moment ago, and it made you wonder if the lack of knotting left him unsatisfied.

The beginning swells of his knot was an enticing girth right at the base, stretching the velvety skin of his shaft, and also tinted a dark shade of red. He was glistening all over, the tip oozing pre as if he hadn't come just a moment ago.

"-and I've made you a slut for me," you teased back, carefully placing your legs on either side of his waist.

He skillfully slipped into you with a pleased snarl, body slotting over yours carefully. He might not have been a giant, but Hawks was still bigger than you, enough to shadow you and leave you feeling small. He rolled his hips slowly, giving you a taste of that swelling before he began a steady rhythm.

Noises punched out of you, whimpers and moans and broken sounds that were almost his name. He balanced on his forearms, one on either side of your head to cage you in, while his legs planted on the bed and his tense abs did most of the work.

"So fucking good. Gnhnn - I don't deserve you," he babbled, uttering the words harshly into the space above your ear, tickling at your hair. "Beautiful and f-fucking perfect."

Hawks was a talker with almost no exception; but, still, despite having heard it all many times, he still managed to get a rise out of you, sweet nothings that made your heart flutter and skin prickle.

"Say you're mine," he demanded, tilting his head down to gnaw gently at your throat.

You swallowed, managing to catch your breath long enough to utter weakly, "'m yours, Keigo."

He lifted his head and dragged his forehead along your temple, huffing out dramatic breaths with each thrust of his hips. A bit more experienced now, you knew when he was close, when the catch became almost too much, the fullness dizzying and almost frightening. Your eyes fluttered open long enough to see his lustful stare, admiring the beauty of pleasure etched across your face.

You dragged your nails down his back, crying in ecstasy when the sparks ignited and pleasure soared through your core. Hawks' dominant hand roughly grabbed a fistful of the sheets, a frustrated grunt bursting from his throat before he roared, likely loud enough for the neighbors to hear.

His thrusting ceased, less he timed it incorrectly and missed this. You made a very distinct noise at the intrusion, the same sound every single time, and it echoed so loudly in his mind. He felt overwhelmed with pride, that he could make you make a sound like that, so utterly debauched and in beautiful ecstasy.

Hawks' own moans, that came out of him like a chuffing tiger, were drowned out by your delicious whimpering. If the fullness wasn't enough, his cock jerked and spurted thick, hot streams of his seed. You could feel each twitch, until he shifted forward, as deep as he possibly could go, and finally stopped.

The muscles of his knot tightened as they finished expanding, locking your cores together. Hawks' head dropped and smacked onto the sheets by your ear. You tilted your head back, nose pointed towards the ceiling as you panted, and felt his rough, staggered breath as it burned your throat.

You felt more than heard the rumbling of his chest where it pressed down on yours. It was unmistakable: the sounds of a satiated beast. The thought had you stuttering out a breathless laugh.

Hawks' nose nudged your cheek and he hummed questioningly.

"You're purring," you answered softly.

"Oh," he answered bluntly.

Luckily, he didn't try to stop it; or, he was consciously unaware of it. Either way, you hoped he wouldn't stop. You loved the sensation of being trapped with him, impossibly close and stuffed like a used sex toy. Just as much, you loved knowing that he was pleased. Shameful as it all was, he had a way of making you feel shameless.

"Baby," he cooed, voice soft and breathless, a little hoarse, like a dying engine. "Are you okay?"

Your arms and legs were still around him, clinging tight like you didn't want to let go. You were strung out and limp, sinking into the sheets, head lulled back and clearly, very pleased. Still, Hawks kissed at your jaw like he was uncertain.

"Are you okay, pretty bird?" you repeated back to him, turning your head to meet his lips with your own.

He kissed you back as opposed to answering, the soft rumbling continuing until you felt it in your own throat. One of his hands tangled in your hair, kneading gently at your skull. Eventually, he peeled back and stared down at you, mismatched eyes unwavering, like you were a specter that would disappear if he glanced away.

He was the one who would be gone in the morning, leaving only an ache in your tummy to remind you that he was here.

But, you knew he would come back.

#takami keigo x reader #keigo takami x reader #keigo takami x you #hawks x reader #hawks x you #villain hawks x reader #villain hawks x you #hawks fanfic #hawks smut

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quicksilverrwrites · 3 years ago

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𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: peter maximoff x reader 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: you can’t sleep and neither can peter, but at least you both know exactly how to comfort one another. 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 2.4k 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+, fluff, peter and reader are early to mid twenties, british reader 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: y/n is known by the mutant name “scribe” and is charles xavier’s niece.

It’s eleven-thirty, and you can’t sleep.

Your thoughts shift to your lessons in the morning; to how tired you’re going to be; to that iced coffee you’d had while getting your assignment done after class; about how that drink was definitely a bad idea considering how you’re lying awake now. It had tasted good then, and it had given you the energy you needed to fire out five thousand words in the span of a few hours… but now you regret it.

Sighing, you roll over. Your eyes glaze over the objects on the nightstand beside your bed. Your alarm clock, rectangular in size and wooden in material, glares at you. Eleven thirty six. Eleven thirty seven. The time seems to spiral, and you realise that you might as well do something with yourself if you’re awake.

You eye the books stacked on top of the alarm clock; you’d been reading one before and it had bored you half to death, so you can’t bring yourself to pick up any again. What else? What else?

Your gaze settles upon the picture frame on the dresser next to your nightstand, and you let out a sigh as you settle upon the silver-haired speedster within it. You’re next to him, a mere blur since he’d sneakily taken the camera from your hand and taken a picture with an expression that radiates cheekiness, but you’d liked the picture enough to keep it.

You’ve got a few more picture frames scattered around your room—photos of you with Scott, Jean, Jubilee and Kurt. Even some of Charles. You might not be close, but he is your uncle, after all. He’s still family.

And yet it’s Peter you keep your eyes on. It’s Peter's mischievous aura which calls to you across the room.

What would he be doing right now? He’s probably playing video games or practicing on one of his guitars. You’d been surprised to see him play well; you’d been surprised to see that he actually had the attention span it takes to successfully learn an instrument. You would know: your mother used to nag you about practicing the piano to perfection. Practice makes perfect, she’d always said, and yet she’d always left out how much energy it took to practice in the first place.

Is it too late to reach out to him? The two of you have a specific way of speaking to one another across distances by now, although even the thought of doing such a thing due to the time seems rude. Your mother had always told you that it was your duty to be polite, and your father had by example. You think you picked it up from him rather than her, but—

Don’t think of him right now. Don’t think of what happened. Don’t.

As if in an effort to push the memory of that night from your head, you move. You pull the drawer attached to your nightstand open to reveal a mess of junk inside, but what you need—and what you spy—is a pen and paper. You pull it from the drawer and slam the nightstand drawer shut quietly, and after, you get to work writing:

Are you up? Can I come over?

Your fingers buzz with azure energy as you feel your mutation working in your favour. A tiny portal of blue opens before you, one you could make larger if you wished but one which you keep small for now. It’s no larger than a letterbox would be, and the faint sound of music from the other side tells you that Peter is very much awake.

You slip the note through the portal, and then you leave it open as you wait.

When you receive no response for a solid fifteen seconds but can hear movement on the other side, you wonder if this was a mistake after all. It’s too late, you scold yourself, mentally preparing for rejection. Oh, god, this is going to be awkward. What if he—

An empty Twinkie box falls at your feet.

You blink at it, momentarily confused, and then you pick it up. You glance about the dessert’s display as you begin to turn the box over in your hands. Nothing on the front, but on the back—

Scrawled in pink glitter pen—probably his sister’s—, the box reads on the back: Yeah. Come through.

You grin lazily as you set the box down on your bed and extend the portal with your fingers like you’re prying open a heavy door. The orange light from Peter’s basement slips through and becomes one with the light of your dorm, which is yellow and warm with your room’s wooden accented walls and flooring. And as you slip through the portal and your bare feet touch the soft tartan carpet of his room, you let the portal shut with a soft shum behind you—

But Peter Maximoff does not look his best. In fact, he looks downright miserable.

His eyes are red as if he’s been crying, his hair is messy—messier than usual, at least—and he’s wearing a band tee and some tartan pajama bottoms that look intended for comfort rather than style. You were about to say hey, but you stop in your tracks. You tilt your head as you look at him.

Peter is still. It’s strange, especially since he’s usually so eccentric. He blurts out, “What?”

You frown, momentarily stuck for what to say. “Nothing,” you respond, but it doesn’t seem right.

Peter stares at you. You stare at him. You’re both quite similar, so it strikes you then that you both know that you’re each not telling each other something.

“You okay?” You ask, suspicion clear in your tone.

Peter shrugs nonchalantly. It’s a rigid movement. “Yeah,” he says, far too confidently to be true. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

You narrow your eyes on him. His tone of voice has all but solidified your suspicions. “Okay, first of all,” you say, crossing the small space of the room between you and the sofa, “you use a very distinctive tone when you lie.” You settle down on the sofa as you cross your legs under you. “Second, your eyes are really red. Have you been—?”

“No.”

Crying, you were about to ask, but he cut you off. You narrow your eyes again.

Peter sighs and averts his gaze, running a hand through his hair. “Tonight’s just… not a good night.”

You press your lips together as sympathy wells in your eyes. “Why not?”

“Can’t sleep.”

“That makes two of us."

Peter inhales deeply, and before you know it, he’s sitting on the sofa next to you. You’re used to how fast he moves by now. Something warms your heart in the way he sits with his body angled towards you. Like he’s opening himself up to you.

“Wanna stay here tonight?” He asks.

You glance at the other end of the sofa and then back to him. You’re reminded of how he took the sofa to sleep on that night after you guys got caught in the rain. “Here?”

Peter’s brows rise. “Is my basement not fancy enough for you?”

You know he’s joking even despite the lack of humour in his tone, and you let out a small huff of laughter as you flash him a lazy smile. You sit back on the sofa, reaching out your hand to intertwine it with his. Things between you are still blooming after your first date, but you both feel comfortable enough to do this. Peter’s fingers wrap around yours as he starts drawing patterns on the back of your hand with his free one.

“I just mean,” you murmur, just loud enough to be heard over the backdrop of quiet music, “won’t your mom mind?”

“She didn’t mind when you stayed over last time.”

Your lips quirk upwards in gentle amusement. “That time you slept on the couch. This time I was thinking, I mean, if you want to, then maybe—”

“Oh,” Peter murmurs. His head lifts upwards in a sort of understanding motion. “Yeah, I mean… ah, I can deal with whatever safe sex talk she wants to give me in the morning.”

Your cheeks flush red. “I didn’t mean that. I just meant maybe we could…” Oh, god, embarrassment— “cuddle.”

Peter grins. “Cuddle, huh?” He pauses, until— “Okay,” he murmurs, reaching an arm around the back of the couch to wrap around you. “I guess I could be down for cuddling.”

You snicker softly as you lean into his touch, your head resting against his shoulder. “Do you want to tell me why you looked so upset when I arrived?”

Peter tenses. “It wasn’t because of you, if that’s what you were thinking.”

“Mm,” you murmur, “I think I’m confident enough in our relationship to know that your reaction when seeing me is generally excitement rather than the dread that accompanies sad under eyes and red markings around them.”

He pauses for a few seconds before he lets out a long breath of defeat. “That obvious, huh?”

“Mm,” you murmur, looking up at him. “A little.”

His lips twist to the side as he lowers his gaze. “I was thinking about my dad.”

It’s your turn to pause now, looking up at him in a way you didn’t before. You assess every detail of his body again: the way his shoulders slump, the way his head hangs low, the way his hair falls in the way of his view and his eyes are heavy with something you haven’t seen in him before. He’s usually so full of life.

Is this what he’s hiding deep down?

“Tell me about it,” you say softly.

Peter grimaces. “It’s a long story, and the stupid thing is it’s mostly my fault.”

Frowning, you sit up and face him. “I don’t believe that.”

Peter lets out a humourless laugh that might be bitter if he showed a hint of anger, but he doesn’t. “It’s true. The only time I’ve ever been too slow and it’s in finding the most…”

He trails off, pulling his arm away from around you so that they both now rest in his lap. He continues, “It’s a mess.”

“Start from the beginning."

So he explains, if not vaguely: about trying to find his father, about finding a house empty and police arriving on the scene. Peter had fled at the sight of them, and—

“His name’s Magneto,” he admits. “Erik Lehnsherr. You’ve probably… seen him on TV or something."

Suddenly, it all adds up. You weren’t at school to see what happened with Apocalypse, but you’ve heard about it from your friend group. Peter doesn’t talk about it very much, and now you know why; had he been part of that whole adventure because of his father? He hadn’t been involved with Xavier’s School before, that much you know.

You suck in a breath. Okay, Y/N, push the fact that his dad’s a known terrorist aside— “Does he know?”

Peter shakes his head. “Nah. I had the chance to tell him and I didn’t. I screwed it up. And now I’m right back where I was before all of it, because I have no clue where he is and no way of telling him the truth. I couldn’t even do it for Wanda.”

“Hey,” you murmur, your fingers moving to cup his cheeks. “Fight or flight, right? It’s normal. To see him right in front of you—to have to muster up the courage to tell him? Knowing what a change that would be for you? Peter, that’s normal.”

Peter’s eyes well with softness as he listens to you, gazes upon you, and you think you’ve never seen him look so vulnerable as he lowers his head to your shoulder. He takes in a shaky breath; wraps his arms around you; pulls you into his lap—

“Thanks,” he murmurs into your shirt. It’s not his shirt this time; you’re wearing a pyjama set that consists of blue silk shorts and a top. “Not sure I believe you, but thanks, Y/N.”

“Is there anything I can do to make you believe me?”

Peter takes a deep breath. “Aside from mind control? Not sure.”

You press your lips together and begin to stroke his hair. “To be honest,” you murmur, “I’m not sure I’d believe you if you tried to tell me something similar about my father, either.”

Peter lets out a choked laugh. “Maybe that’s why we work together.”

Your lips curve upwards, still stroking his hair. His face is still buried in your shoulder. “Maybe,” you whisper, pressing a soft kiss to his head.

Peter shifts so that he’s leaning against the back of the sofa and you’re in his lap again. You turn so that you’re straddling his waist, but your fingers find his jaw to cup the skin there. Your thumb brushes soothingly against his skin.

“You mean a lot to me,” Peter murmurs, staring up at you. It’s almost as if the music in the room has stopped; it’s almost as if the two of you are the only souls left in existence. His brows are slightly raised and there is awe in his voice as he says, “I don’t really believe you’re real half the time.”

You let out a soft laugh. “Definitely real, Peter. Definitely here.”

“Yeah,” he says, his tone riddled with amusement, “and here of all places. You could be anywhere. You’re like, perfect and—”

“Ssh,” you murmur, pressing a finger to his lips. “I don’t want to be anywhere but here with you.”

Peter tilts his head up towards you, a silent request for consent, and you kiss him in answer.

He wraps his arms around your waist as he deepens the kiss, your tongue slipping out to meet his own. He makes a low, guttural noise between pleasure and content at the feeling of it, and your free hand clutches at his shirt as your other hand remains at his jaw.

You spend the rest of the evening like that, whether it's on the sofa or in his bed, but in those moments together there’s nothing carnal about it. Your touches are soft and comforting rather than lustful and yearning, and as much as you’ve thought about him that way before, you know that now’s not the time.

Tonight, you both need this. Tonight, your sole purpose is to be there for one another.

“And for the record,” Peter murmurs between kisses, his words random and uncalculated, “I think your tragic backstory’s way worse than mine.”

#peter maximoff x reader #peter maximoff imagine #xmen imagine #peter maximoff fluff #peter maximoff fanfiction #peter maximoff fanfic #peter maximoff x y/n #xmen x reader #quicksilver x reader #quicksilver fanfiction #quicksilver fanfic #xmen fanfic

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talatomaz · 4 years ago

Text

lockdown | jj x fem!teen!reader

a/n: i can’t believe that a year ago today, the last ever episode of criminal minds aired. i miss jj so much 🤧

this is sort of in line with my own experiences (to a certain extent). and there’s not as much jj x d!r as i’d intended but I hope you still like it.

(feedback/positive comments are appreciated)

requested by @ouat2017 : “could you do a jj x daughter where the daughter’s school is on lockdown and jj is worried or something like that?”

warnings: gun violence. blood

word count: 2.6k

masterlist | request list | request rules

r is jj’s 18 year old adopted daughter and suddenly finds herself on lockdown after someone brings a gun into her school

i do not give you permission to repost or translate my fics on any platform - likes/reblogs are okay and are much appreciated

“Look, you’re the one that needs to be tutored so can you please focus?”

You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest in annoyance.

You were currently in the tutoring centre trying to help a self-absorbed jock pass English so he could remain on the school’s football team.

Looking around you, you saw a handful of students giving both you and Cameron - the man-child you were tutoring - disparaging looks.

“You’re not supposed to be yelling at me. You’re meant to be telling me the answers.”

The aforementioned narcissist leaned against his chair, smirking at you in a way that made you fight to hide a shudder.

You could have easily wiped the grin off his face by mentioning who your mother was and who she worked for but instead, you decided to just continue ignoring his advances and carry on teaching him.

“That’s not how this works, Cameron. Now either you listen to me or you fail and get kicked off the team. And quite frankly, I’d rather the latter happen.”

You watched as his brows furrowed in confusion. Sighing, you answered, “latter means the second thing of two things mentioned in a sentence. Now, for the love of God, just finish writing your paragraph on Heller's satire of capitalism in Catch-22.”

You let out a breath of relief when he finally relented and started to scribble on his sheet of paper. You glanced over at one of your friends, who was also tutoring for extra credit, and smiled when she rolled her eyes at Cameron’s actions.

Leaning against the large desk that stood at the front of the room, you relished in the long-awaited silence aside from hushed whispers that came from other students asking for help.

Taking out your phone, you glanced at the screen to see that it was only midday and soon the lunch bell would be ringing.

You smiled softly at your lock screen.

It was a photo of you and JJ, your adoptive mother.

It was taken a few weeks prior at your 18th birthday party. You’d been living with JJ for almost 5 years now; her having fostered you before later adopting you when you were 14.

You still didn’t know what she saw in you on that day you’d first met her - you’d lost your family in a home invasion, barely surviving yourself - but whatever it was, you were grateful because you’d gotten a second chance at life.

Several minutes passed and you’d only broken from your train of thought when you heard someone clearing their throat beside you.

Looking over your shoulder, you saw your friend, the one who’d rolled her eyes earlier at Cameron, standing beside you.

“I see you finally got him to do his work.” She whispered, loud enough for your ears only.

“Barely. He still has an essay to write and hasn’t even finished a paragraph yet.”

“I would have smacked his sorry ass by now.”

You laughed before clamping your hand over your mouth, her comment having caught you off guard.

“Ally!” You whisper-shouted, playfully hitting her arm.

She looked at you with a raised eyebrow causing you to smirk, “Trust me, I’ve thought about it but-”

Before you could finish your sentence, a large bang rang out, shattering the silence the room had once held.

With wide eyes, your head whipped to the door where the gunshot had presumably come from and you listened as the hallways were filled with panicked screams.

Running to the door, ignoring the gasps and shouts from the other students behind you, you turned the lock on the door, pulled down the blinds, switched off the lights and jammed a chair under the handle.

Looking up, you saw everyone had the same look of panic in their eyes; a few were crying, including Ally, and others were pale with shock, Cameron was one of them.

“Guys, we’re gonna be okay but we have to be quiet.” You whispered harshly, constantly looking over your shoulder at the door, listening for any indication of the shooter coming your way.

Everyone stared at you, as if you were the leader of a camp and they were small children awaiting for further instruction.

You supposed it wasn’t far off.

By taking charge, you were the one who’d been unwillingly given the role of protector.

“First things first,” you walked over to the group of 10 students, “I need you all to make sure your phones are on silent. We can’t risk being caught.”

You watched as everyone followed your instructions.

“I know you all want to call your parents but that’s going to attract attention to us so for right now, we need to be quiet.”

Your heart was beating out of your chest and as you spoke, one thought repeated in your head. JJ.

Taking out your phone, you scrolled to find your mother’s name in your contacts. You watched as your thumb hovered over her name.

Just breathe, y/n. Breathe.

Tapping your mother’s name, you brought the phone to your ear.

“I thought you said we couldn’t call anyone.”

Your eyes locked onto Cameron’s, his face pale and his eyes filled with terror and a hint of anger.

“My Mum works for the FBI.” You whispered as the phone rang out.

Any other time and you probably would have laughed at the way his face grew paler, if that was even possible. But, in a situation this tense, it was going to be difficult to find any levity.

Your Mum picked up on the second ring and you let out a shaky breath when you heard her voice.

“Hi baby. A bit early for your lunch, isn’t it?”

You closed your eyes at her soft tone, as if you were trying to engrave the way she spoke into your mind lest you would never hear it again.

From your lack of response, the blonde sensed there was something up, “Y/N? What’s wrong?”

A single tear dropped down your cheek as you struggled to maintain a steady tone. Catching a glimpse of Ally staring at you, you steeled yourself and spoke.

“Mum, you need to come quick. Someone’s brought a gun into school.”

“Oh my-AARON.”

You winced when you heard her shout for her boss, listening as you could hear her run up stairs. You held your breath as she filled Hotch in on what was happening before telling Garcia to hack into your school’s security system.

“Are you okay? Stupid question. But are you hurt?”

“Mum,” you interrupted her rambling, “I’m fine. I’m in the tutoring centre with 10 other people. I don’t know how many people are injured. It just all happened so fast.”

“It’s okay, baby. You’re gonna be okay.”

Though you could hear the clear panic in her voice, her words did bring some form of reassurance to you.

“Penelope’s hacking into the system so hopefully she can have eyes soon.”

As she spoke, you could hear the clacking of keys in the background of the call; presumably Garcia doing exactly what JJ said.

“Mum?” You questioned when you heard Garcia swear.

Instead of JJ answering, the usually peppy tech analyst replied, her voice shaky and wet, as if she was crying.

“Y/N, thank God you’re okay.”

“What’s wrong, Garcia?”

“Someone’s disabled the cameras remotely. I can only get them back online if someone reprograms them from the inside.”

Grasping what she was explaining, you nodded, “I’ll fix them.”

“What? No!”

Your mother had taken the phone off of Garcia.

“You are not leaving that room, y/n. We’ll find another way in.”

“Mum, someone needs to fix the system from inside the school. I need to do it.”

Ignoring your mother’s worried shouts, you continued to speak, “Mum, I have to. I love you.”

You disconnected the phone and switched it off, preventing her from being able to call you back.

“Y/N, you are not leaving this room.”

You’d only just realised that everyone had been watching you intently during that entire interaction.

“Yes, I am.”

Moving away from the huddle, you rose to your feet and replied to your friend.

Cameron rose to his feet and towered over you as he challenged you, “No, you are not. You’re going to put us in danger.”

“Do you know how to hack into our school’s security system and then reconnect the transformer and enter the Mastercode?”

His face contorted to a look of confusion making you reply,

“Exactly.”

Turning to leave, you felt a large hand enclose around your arm.

“I said, you’re not leaving.”

Your eyes flickered from Cameron’s hand up to his face that dared you to take another step.

“Remove your hand from my arm before I remove your hand from your body. You may letter in football but I’ve been trained by some of the best FBI agents there are and unless you want to end up in a sleeper hold, I suggest you shut up and do what I say for once.”

His harsh grip almost immediately lessened as his hand returned to his side.

“Good. Now, have any of you been shot? No? I didn’t think so. Well, I have and whoever did get shot is probably bleeding out in the hallway. I can’t not do anything.”

No one dared to respond and instead, shook their head ‘no’ at your asking if anyone else would try to stop you.

Content that you weren’t going to deal with any more unnecessary distractions, you made your way to the door and gently removed the chair that was beneath the handle.

“Ally, you’re in charge. Lock the door when I leave. By my count, the FBI will be here soon. And Cameron, you do anything stupid and I’ll shoot you myself.”

Unlocking the door, you stepped out into the empty hallway and hastily made your way to where the main security hub was located.

Just a couple of hours ago, all you had wished for was silence but now that your wish had been granted, all you wanted was to hear the playful shouts and conversations between your friends and fellow students.

The silence that currently fell on your school was unnerving and unbearable. And with each step you took, you flinched at the sound your shoes made against the marble floor. Each noise practically acting as a beacon for the shooter to come find you.

You let out a sigh of relief when you found the Hub and you quickly worked to reconnect the security system. Typing on the laptop that rested atop one of the servers, you couldn’t help the smile that formed when all the cameras re-engaged.

Tapping on one of the keys, you navigated through the various cameras, looking for any indication of the shooter or of any injured people. You stopped when you caught a glimpse of someone.

Squinting at the screen, you saw, what appeared to be a freshman - since you didn’t recognise him as being a part of your year - laying on the ground, a hand clutching his stomach as blood coated his clothing.

Immediately knowing where he was, you cautiously made your way to the east hallway before running when you noticed him laying on the ground, his blood coating the once-white marble floor.

Falling to your knees, you pressed your hands against his wound, trying to stop the steady flow. He groaned out in pain, tears staining his face.

“H-Help me.” He choked out.

“What’s your name?”

“Jackson. But everyone c-calls me J-Jack.”

“Jack, you’re going to be okay. I just need you stay with me, okay? I’m-”

“Y/N.”

You failed to hide the surprise from your face making the younger teen smile despite his predicament.

“You’re t-tutoring Cameron. Everyone knows who you are. Y-You’re the one who doesn’t take any of his shit. I think h-he likes you.”

“Well, tough shit for him. I may be bi but he’s definitely not my type.”

Jack’s laugh quickly turned into another groan of pain.

Unzipping your jacket with one hand, you used the other to keep pressure on his wound. After removing the jacket, you harshly pressed it against his torso and watched as it barely absorbed the blood.

“I’m gonna die, aren’t I?”

“No, you’re not. I won’t let you.” You said, tears filling in your eyes as memories rushed back of when you tried to save your brother after he’d been shot.

“You’re going to be okay. I just need you to-”

You stilled when you heard footsteps come up behind you.

“Well, what do we have here?”

You didn’t recognise the voice and couldn’t bring yourself to turn around to face the person who’d caused all this pain.

You opened your mouth before closing it again, unsure of what to say.

Closing your eyes, you readied yourself for your inevitable death when a shot rang out and a body slumped to the ground beside you.

Jumping at the action, you turned around and almost collapsed in relief at what you saw. Your Mum and her team stood behind you with several SWAT members flanking them.

The tears that had once filled your eyes now spilled shamelessly down your cheeks.

Without saying a word, JJ holstered her gun and ran to your side, hugging you as best she could since your hands were still pressed against Jack’s wound.

Paramedics soon followed and after that it was all a blur. It was as if you were floating outside of your body. Logically, you knew it was the effects of an adrenaline crash but you felt so disconnected from your body.

You barely took note as your mother gently lifted you to your feet, allowing you to be briefly looked over by the paramedics. Nor as your mother escorted you to one of the school bathrooms where she rinsed the blood off your hands.

You didn’t even say a word until you’d arrived back at the BAU where a worried Penelope wrapped you in a tight hug which you returned.

“I’m gonna take her up to my old office, Hotch.”

The Unit Chief simply nodded as he and the rest of the team watched as JJ led you to the abandoned office that was still filled with random case files.

Closing the door, she sat you down on her sofa and stared at you, not touching you in fear that even a simple caress would cause you to shatter.

You exhaled a long breath before finally speaking, “I’m sorry.”

Her brows narrowed, “Sorry? Sweetheart, why?”

You looked at your hands that had been coated in blood less than an hour before and then up at your mother; her blue eyes filled with nothing but concern, love and confusion.

“You told me not to leave and I did. I’m sorry.”

And with that, you started to cry heart-wrenching sobs that made your shoulders shake.

JJ gathered you in her arms, gently rocking you as her long blonde hair draped over you.

“It’s okay, y/n. I got you, baby. You’re safe now.”

Her arms wrapped tightly around you as she laid soft kisses on your head, her hand stroking your back.

That only served to make you burrow into her even more, seeking comfort in her motherly embrace.

You muttered your apologies as she continued to reassure you that you were okay.

JJ was afraid that if she stopped, you wouldn’t be here, safe in her arms.

Still rocking you in her arms, she whispered in your ear,

“I got you, baby. You’re safe now.”

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starshiningsirius · 4 years ago

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Like old times (Yandere Azul x reader)

@bryzie27 - i like what you did with overblot leona. could you do something similar with overblot azul?

Not sure what you mean like the chase scene? The dynamics of Octanivelle's structure still aren't quite clear to me if they can go out in the water but I'll try!

I FORGOT THE GIF IS FROM @flowerofthemoonworld !

Let's give the octopus some love!

"Hey, your Azul right?"

He lifted his head to look at who had spoken to him. It was a mermaid with a strange speckled tail that added to her beauty. She seemed to be more of the reserved type. Her hair had two streaks of the same color on either side of her face and the rest was all one color. Her eyes shimmered radiantly.

He could feel a rush of heat claim his entire face.

"Here." She handed him his books.

"W -why are you doing this?" The young octopus sniffled.

He wasn't expecting this, not with the way everyone else treated him. It didn't make any sense why you'd treat him kindly. A freakish eight legged merman who couldn't swim correctly.

"It's the right thing to do, Azul. I couldn't just swim away with you like this. It'd be immoral."

From that first encounter on forward they became friends. She helped him walk and swim a bit better considering he found it embarrassing. She didn't even have tentacles yet she instructed him so well.. Maybe he inked once or twice, a few times around her on accident, he swears! It didn't matter she was fine with it. She didn't mind one bit who he was.

Even when they went to the Atlantica Museum she stayed by his side and explored it with him. He was a bit slow considering his physique was on the chubby side so he wasn't fast. It still didn't matter, for some odd reason she stayed with him. In the picture commemorating the trip he held her hand since he was a bit self conscious about his picture being taken.

Y/n couldn't help but find it adorable. Everything about Azul wasn't at all strange to her it only made her more curious to get to know him. He would always apologize for any small thing he did wrong. She would always say, "It's fine." as if he did nothing. Her smile always seemed to brighten Azul's darkest days.

She'd visit him in his family restaurant in which his mother and father always welcomed his first friend. They were overjoyed. She saw him gorging himself on the plate of food in front of him compared to her smaller portion. She couldn't help but to stare, it made her understand why he was on the chubby side. Then he looked at her sauce around his mouth and she couldn't help but smile at him with laughter filling the area. He was embarrassed blushing a shade of red and he felt a bit ashamed.

"Azulie, you're absolutely adorable!" She said through her laughter.

It was one of his most fondest memories he ever had with her, but all good things had to come to an end.

Eventually she had to depart from the northern seas to the far southern ones. She had to leave Azul behind. She had given him a hug it was full of so much warmth of which he had never felt before and it made his heart race twice as fast. Both parents of the children found it endearing their children had found a friend.

. . .

And that was that. Time passed and he eventually became Azul Ashengrotto the dorm leader of Octanivelle who could grant any wish just as the sea witch. He could never ever forget the one person he was so fond of though. It never left him every time he wrote down a contract he could remember a time where he truly did care for someone.

The new year at Night Raven was his second year while a new group of first years came entering the school. He had ordered Jade to get information on each of them and when he went through the long list of students that had been sorted into Octanivelle while in his office. He immediately crossed one oh so familiar.

Y/n L/n.

He couldn't believe his eyes. He put the sheet of paper down and opened one of his drawers in the desk that showed him and her back then. He never altered this photo as he did countless others. She accepted him for who he was and that was well enough a reason for him to admire her.

He automatically called upon Jade as Floyd would have probably scared the poor girl. He told him to fetch her immediately.

When he finally did see her for the first time in years he was astounded at how you changed so little but so much at the same time. You had grown taller and your eyes still sparkled just as they always did. You had the same two streaks on either side of your hair which had grown a few inches he might add.

Jade had left to do other tasks he was assigned but Azul couldn't care less seeing as he had his childhood friend and sweetheart in front of him.

"Azulie, that really is you huh?" Your voice had matured but was more timid just like the very first time they met. Of course it was so long ago that they're more like strangers now. That nickname though, it's been a long time since he's heard it.

"Yes, I've changed quite a bit." He was a little nervous though he'd never admit it his voice slightly betrayed him and his face had a little red tint. He tried pushing up his glasses to shield it from her eyes but it was a futile attempt. He heard her chuckle that made his heart race like never before.

"You haven't changed fully as your still the most adorable by far." She said.

That made his face blossom as red as a rose in the rose maze of Heartsbyul. Heat was exerting itself from his still body that he sat in the chair from.

From that moment on he would keep a watchful eye on her. He would always try his best when she was around and get any info on anything going on pertaining to her.

She had met Floyd and Jade before who Azul wasn't too fond of at first, but she reccomended he became friends with them back then since it wasn't everyday someone didn't come up to tease him and noticed his accomplishments. Of course it was only because of Azul that they met again at Night Raven. The first time she met Jade was when he first brought her to see Azul in his office. He looked familiar to her and she mentioned it to him, and they both shared their fondest memories on the way. She met Floyd a little later on in the Mostro Lounge as he had taken her order and he noticed she had come in a lot just to see Azul. Jade had to explain the situation that she wasn't required to pay for any food she ate there because of an order Azul had given out.

Azul would spend some time out of the day to just hang out with you if he wasn't always busy with the lounge. It was always a joy to be with you, it reminded him of when you were both younger. He thought back to those days every night and day that you had still never left his mind. The thought of you leaving again made him lose his sense of reason and fall deeper in his sweet obsession.

He had started to act different you noticed. He had become a bit more invasive of your personal space in which you remember that only happened when he was nervous at least you thought he grew out of it.

Jade and Floyd began to direct you to the Lounge like your life was there and no where else. It'd only be a matter of time before Azul was informed by Jade of his sweetheart's newest infatuation.

Vil happened to catch your attention. It led Azul to be green with envy. He knew the dorm leader of Pomeifore had complimented her one day and it was enough to send her falling head over heels. He had so many followers it made no sense why he had to take something else Azul had wanted for the longest time. With Vil's beauty he only began to question his own.

He had to come up with a solution just as he had done for those bullies. He just couldn't lose Y/n again. Not if he had any say in it.

After hours of pondering in his office sinking his nails into his desk the answer happened to be right behind him. The vault that was situated behind his desk held the many contracts he had collected.

Maybe if he could impress her she wouldn't see him as that stupid, clumsy octopus he once was. All these different magic spells that he obtained from those fools from the exams on land in Night Raven and those idiots who swam under the sea.

That's when his plan fell apart. Y/n avoided him all of a sudden. Mainly having spent time with those troublesome first years he sent to the museum to collect one of the last remnants of his past.

He didn't have time to keep thinking about Y/n at the moment which irritated him quite a bit. One thing led to another and now he was out here trying to negotiate with the arrogant and prideful dorm head of Savanclaw. As soon as he destroyed them all hope was lost.

He was taunting him, but his next few words really took him over the top in terms of a sadistic being.

"You know, one of your little sea friends really wanted to believe you were nice. We just had to show her the real Azul Ashengrotto." Leona had smirked turning his head to the side, beyond the corner of the tunnel his darling angelfish had appeared. Disbelief in her eyes, she couldn't even meet his eyes.

That's when everyone else had arrived, but the deed was already done. He had lost everything and his angelfish had seen him as a weak being, the same stupid clumsy octopus he hated being.

They took her from his side. He had her in his grasp and they stole her. He had lost it.

His newborn and unimaginable power were apparent now. He just had to get it all back. Not even Floyd or Jade wanted to help him either.

He reminded himself of you holding your pen ready to fire another offensive attack. His anger swelled inside him where he could tap into more power.

"GIVE HER BACK TO ME! GIVE ME BACK WHAT YOU TOOK! "

A large swarm of harsh black wind had overwhelmed the group. She still managed to stand but when the dust cleared she saw all of them had collapsed unconscious. Even the prefect who was thrown back the farthest had their head hit the tunnel, it didn't look like she was breathing from here though.

She took a look back at Azul and suddenly she felt her feet carrying her away from the scene, having Azul call out to her from behind.

* * *

It's been a while since she had to swim that fast. Her tail fin was starting to hurt from the constant movement. She wanted to take a break, a never ending nightmare she pleaded in her head to be over.

That was until she heard him calling for her.

"Oh Angelfish! You really have nothing to fear! Come out I promise I won't hurt you!" He said in a sing songy voice.

She was hiding behind a large boulder on the sea floor near a small coral reef.

"Am I not enough anymore?! I'LL DO ANYTHING TO PROVE IT! I'M NOT THE SAME AS BEFORE, YOU DON'T HAVE TO LOOK AFTER ME! " The tone of voice he had scared her even more so now that she was alone.

"I'm not, ... I'm not that stupid clumsy little octopus anymore." He sounded as if he were about to cry, it pulled at her heartstrings a bit and she thought she could convince him to calm down in this state.

"Azulie I never-"

"There you are! " He said with glee and delight in his tone, that never would have made you think he was sad in the first place.

He successfully guilt tripped her into coming out of hiding. Using his tentacles he pulled her by the tail toward him careful to avoid giving her any injuries. He grasped her in his arms feeling himself relax a bit, at the fact he had her in his grasp once again. She felt warm just as she did all those years ago for him.

He clasped her hands together with his. A deranged smile on his face as he stared into the soul of his adorable little angelfish who shivered under such an intense gaze radiating his madness.

"We'll be together again! Just like old times! Except this time I'm all powerful and no one will be able to steal what's mine!"

Masterlist

#twisted wonderland #yandere azul ashengrotto #azul ashengrotto #azul ashengrotto x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere azul ashengrotto x reader #jade leech #floyd leech

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