#this is probably incoherant as hell sorry
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just curious bc you’ve mentioned it in your recent posts, how do you typically manage your doodle posts? how many do you usually have going at once? do you doodle with the intention of posting them with predetermined themes, or do you just coincidentally make multiple drawings that fit a theme?
sorry for the incoherent rambling questions, hope it’s at least semi-understandable ;-;
There used to be a lot less in the drafts, but recently I’ve had multiple posts at once waiting, begging to be set free. Sometimes I doodle stuff with the intent of making a post, but most of the time I doodle and then organize them into different posts accordingly.
Like rn as mentioned before I have a post with some John doodles, a post with some John/Noel, an ourthur post (that is honestly probably ready bc even tho I say I can make one more doodle to hit that 10 pic mark I probably won’t), annnddd a midnight burger post that has been in purgatory since august !!! bbgs I’m so sorry !!
also for some reason I’m hell bent on having my posts with doodles reach the 10 image limit. like I literally don’t have to but they feel so b a r e if I dont. vicious cycle.
#hmmmmmmmm ourthur post soon ig#also that tmagp animation is finally done so I’ll be posting that soon#ask
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okay what in the hell. if you use the current transmisogyny issue to try and claim trans men aren’t oppressed or are somehow the cause of the current problem i am going to assume you’re a 4chan infiltrator btw.
big rant below the cut. transphobia tw, i also mention a recent murder case. if you’re a mutual who’s reblogging posts about the current issue maybe read this?
i am aware this is very unlike my normal posts but it’s stressing me the fuck out bc of how many mutuals are reblogging stuff about it and bc of concerning language used in some of the posts.
THIS ISSUE IS NOT ABOUT TRANS MEN IDK WHY EVERYONE KEEPS BRINGING US UP.
i have not seen anyone i follow say directly that trans men aren’t oppressed, but ive seen a few posts that indirectly insinuate it reblogged onto my dash. and i have been assuming the people who reblogged it just didn’t read the post thoroughly, but i saw someone genuinely say trans men aren’t oppressed in the notes of one of these posts (it was not someone i follow) and that’s fucking insane. an afab trans person (not a trans man, but someone who would face similar oppression) was brutally murdered in oklahoma just recently and jkr’s manifesto directly talks about trans men and afab nonbinary people in a disgusting, infantilizing fashion.
anybody who supports posts like that is getting blocked, mutual or not. including ones that claim transandrophobia isn’t real (it’s misogyny. transandrophobia is trans-specific misogyny that is called that because why tf would transmascs misgender themselves in a term they made. nobody is claiming misandry is real i have literally never seen that and that’s why the term was changed to transandrophobia instead of transmisandry. in addition, a lot of trans men don’t pass and therefore get to experience all the wonderful privileges (/s) of being viewed as gender nonconforming women. even ones who pass can be visibly queer as well. and much of the current anti-trans legislation specifically targets trans men who need top surgery as teenagers, which is a rare case but some do need it, and exceptions for breast-related surgeries on cis female teenagers is specifically written into much of this legislation).
people bringing trans men up in this context is suspicious as fuck because as far as i’m aware, there aren’t any trans men directly involved in this situation at all. it’s cis terfs, the cis ceo of tumblr, and trans women, particularly one, with the fbi car hammers thing, but there’s many more involved. bringing up trans men for any reason just distracts from the actual point of everything, doesn’t it? why is attention towards an unrelated issue being brought forth
i have no idea
how supporting trans women
involves putting down trans men.
from a trans man who hardly ever passes because i dared to grow my hair out. like just shut up about trans men for this whole situation. we do not belong in the conversation in this way. our oppression is uninvolved. whether you’re bringing it up to defend us or bash us or whatever the fuck, just don’t. this is an issue about trans women.
#this is probably incoherant as hell sorry#if anyone has info i dont know of that would be important for me to know plz reply/dm!#anyway right wing and 4chan people have confessed#to making dummy accounts to try and break leftist communities apart#which is why i’m so sus of this#negative#discourse#transphobia
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damn. can't stop thinking about binghe being shen yuan's comfort character in his previous life now. idk, but i am simply convinced that shen yuan has had the childhood of a typical asian middle child, made worse by the fact that he's from a rich family. all his little quirks and oddities would actually make a whole god awful lot of sense too if that were the case. like it would just makes sense.
ofc nobody else would be as good in watering down their feelings, devaluing their positive qualities, and underestimating their ability to make any real impact (on anyone they of value) than a second child who grew up often compared to the first and had been, intentionally or unintentionally, made to feel like they never have or never will measure up or measure enough.
i think it's also why of all the moments, he only genuinely started to understand binghe's true feelings when binghe began going off about feeling unwanted and never being enough to make anyone stay. all those feelings, those exact insecurities too, despite himself, he understood well enough bc he'd lived with them his entire life. even built half of his personality and put up most of the mental and emotional walls he have up to cope with them.
for so long, he'd seen binghe, post-abyss, as someone so unlike him. as far as he's concerned he's just some average guy who needs to learn how to settle with whatever life gives him bc he'll never be good enough to really, really achieve things. binghe, on the other hand, is an OP protagonist destined for greatness, to have everything and everyone he can ever want, to be chosen by anything or anyone he chooses.
they can't be any more different!!! except as it turns out, casting roles aside, binghe doesn't feel any differently about himself as shen yuan feels about his own self. and worse of all, and he's realized this too, that he's the last straw that got binghe feeling so strongly that way about himself.
anywaY, yes. binghe as shen yuan's comfort character—hoo boy, yes. he would soooo love a character like the original flavor binghe, alright. middle child who's constantly made to feel like he'll never be enough would totally love the living hell out of a white lotus who's constantly treated like a lesser being by the people around him only to emerge as a blackened OP protagonist who finally has achieved power not just over his life but the whole fucking world!!!
even before binghe turned real, he's helped shen yuan embrace, even just a little, his own feelings. they really are soul mates, idk, god.
#svsss#shen yuan#shen qingqiu#luo binghe#bingyuan#bingqiu#brain dump#sorry this got long#and is probably incoherent as hell but i am high on caffeine and in the middle of a brainrot
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sorry for keicho posting so much but i have to talk about the DiU movie and how ... in the anime and manga, it's clear okuyasu had no idea of keicho's plan to kill their father, and was severely against the idea of it (constantly insisting how they can find someone to heal him). meanwhile, in the movie, keicho explicitly references how even the hand was unable to even get rid of their father. idk, it's much more compelling to think about keicho thinking about the hand was the perfect candidate to get rid of their father- but of course it's tied to okuyasu ... who, in my canon, got at the age of 11, after keicho pierced him with the arrow in the hopes he would get a stand strong enough to rid their father. so, when okuyasu did develop the hand ... he was extremely excited! but then, his heart sunk at the idea of having to ask okuyasu to do such a thing. he just couldn't, so he never did. it's a bit messed up that keicho kept okuyasu in the dark about his true intentions of killing their father, but also ... i think he just wanted okuyasu to experience his childhood for a bit longer, and not worry about everything keicho was doing. he didn't want him to go down the path he had taken for himself, so keicho took everything upon himself while okuyasu attended school and tried to have a normal life.
#█ ▌ 𝙜𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙤𝙪𝙩. / ooc.#█ ▌ 𝙞 𝙮𝙞𝙚𝙡𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙣𝙤 𝙤𝙣𝙚. / keicho.#( hc tbt. )#( sorry im insane about this blonde bitch )#( he just wanted okuyasu to have a normal childhood and be normal .... )#( especially when he wasnt able to have that for himself ... )#( this is probably incoherent as hell and i apologize )#( i hope this makes sense :'))) bc he means everything to me... )
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— "ctrl+C, ctrl+V" sakusa kiyoomi
≪ back to fics masterlist
sakusa kiyoomi x f!reader
a/n: saw a fanart of chibi sakusa and this came to mind so i just had to write this out to get it out of my head 🫠 sorry if my writing's not perfect i wrote this in like an hour HAHAHDHDJSJSHD
cw: FLUFF, parenting au, atsumu being annoying
wc: 586
Kiyoomi had always expressed how much he wanted your kids to have your features - from your hair, your eyes, your smile, your laugh, he wanted them to inherit everything about you. He essentially wanted his kids to be mini clones of you, the person he loved and admired the most in the world.
However, when your first child was born, it was pretty clear that she'd take after her father. Immediately, you noticed birth marks at almost the exact same spot as her father, and as she grew older, her hair started to curl at the ends just like her father's. Unsurprisingly, they had similar personalities too. She was probably the most educated six year old when it came to personal and public hygiene.
And when Reina's little brother was born, you swore they could be twins. That is, if you ignored the eight year age gap between them. Akimitsu, like his sister, took after Kiyoomi. He had the same dark curly hair and sharp eyes as his father, but one difference between him and his sister was that he had a much more outgoing personality. Even at six months old, he was already smiling, laughing, pointing and waving at everyone he passes by.
Today was no different. Strapped to his father's chest, Akimitsu was excitedly pointing towards his older sister practising volleyball in front of him and babbling incoherently. Next to him, the one and only Miya Atsumu was seated on the bench watching his twin boys practice their volleyball skills with Reina. You watched as your husband fished out a pack of tissues and wiped away the drool on his baby's chin.
"Dude, what's up with your sets today? Even Reina can't spike your shit sets and she's a better spiker than me!" Ryūjin exclaimed, pointing accusingly at his brother.
"Shut yer trap, Ryū! Yer just jealous 'cause my sets are still better than yours!" Ryōta retorted. Turning to his friend, he apologised, "Sorry, Reina, I'll work on my sets."
Reina scrunched her face in slight annoyance but acknowledged her friend.
"Y'know, Omi-kun, yer daughter somehow looks even more like you when she does that," Atsumu chortled.
Confused, Kiyoomi looked up at the blonde setter. "Does what?"
"THAT!" Atsumu screeched, pointing at Kiyoomi's face, which was, of course, scrunched up like his daughter's. Kiyoomi hurriedly covered his son's ears at the sheer volume of Atsumu's outburst.
"Will ya keep it down? My kid's gonna go deaf at this rate," Kiyoomi huffed, glaring at Atsumu. The latter sheepishly apologised.
"But for real though, your kids are basically your clones," Atsumu continued, "Guess ya don't have to worry about 'em not bein' yours, right?"
That earned him a hard slap on the back of his head by both you and Kiyoomi.
"THE HELL WAS THAT FOR?" Atsumu cried, rubbing the back of his head to relieve the pain.
"Excuse me, sir, what are you insinuating?" You spouted, glaring at him. For all the years you had known him — since high school, to be exact —Atsumu had never failed to come up with the most insensitive lines.
"I'm just sayin'! It's cute that yer kids look so much like you!" Atsumu sulked.
"No shit they're mine, baka," Kiyoomi grumbled, the annoyed scrunch once again making an appearance on his face.
Hearing a fit of giggles, you all turned to Akimitsu who was pointing at Atsumu with a gummy smile on his face.
"Ba...Baka!"
The six month old happily clapped and cheered as Atsumu was left dumbfounded.
a/n: sakusa’s children would 100% inherit his curly hair YOU CANNOT CONVINCE ME OTHERWISE like it’s literally so cute. they’d have the same scrunched face when they’re annoyed AND IT'S FREAKING ADORABLE anyway i titled this one ctrl C ctrl V for obvious reasons HAHA
© educatedsimps 2024. do not repost, copy, translate or plagiarise any work from this blog on tumblr or any other platforms. if you do, the simps will hunt you down. likes and reblogs are appreciated!
#educated.simps#haikyuu x reader#lyssa.writes#simps.write#haikyuu!!#haikyuu fluff#sakusa kiyoomi#hq sakusa#sakusa x reader#sakusa kiyoomi x reader#kiyoomi sakusa x reader#sakusa x reader fluff#sakusa fluff#sakusa kiyoomi x reader fluff
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Dave Lizewski being a REALLY clingy sleeper. Like he physically smothers you in his sleep, all cute and disheveled, groaning when you move.
tbh I didn't think anyone would actually request something but I'm literally so happy someone did.So thank you!!! And I totally agree! Like- when you try to get up because you need to pee or something and he just squeezes you tighter and grumbles something incoherent- I need help,I am so down bad for this man.
P.S - sorry if it's bad,this is my first fic. :')
Dave Lizewski x reader
Prompt: fluff
Warnings: None.
Summary: After a long night of patrolling,all Dave wanted to do was to take off this suit,take a warm shower and curl up under the blankets with his amazing partner; you.
Dave huffs softly as he trudges along the New York City streets,his body tired and heavy feeling.He swore if he even sat down somewhere he'd probably fall asleep- Hell,he could probably fall asleep while he was still walking.But as he keeps going,he spots a familiar white mailbox with hand-painted flowers on it,and he immediately smiles.
He walks a bit faster now,though it was still a bit sluggish.After a moment he makes it to the side of your house where your bedroom window is.He gently knocks on the glass,his lips curled into a smile as he watches your head turn towards the window and your lips curve as well.
You look up from your homework from today at the sound of tapping against your bedroom window.You smile as you see the familiar green wet-suit paired with that adorable smile you love oh so much.You stand from your desk and make your way over to the window,opening the curtains wider before sliding the window open and moving out of the way so he can climb through.
"Hey,Davey." You say as he crawls through your window.You shut the window after he's in,making sure that the curtains are closed completely to keep Kick-Ass's true identity a secret,before turning to him.
"Hey,baby." He says as he takes off his mask and sits it on top of your dresser before opening a drawer,digging through it.
"I'm gonna go take a shower,okay?" He says,looking at you as he moves over to the bathroom door in your room,placing his hand on the doorknob.He watches you nod before heading into the bathroom.
You smile more as you sit on your bed,watching as he rummages through your clothes to find something big enough to fit him the way he likes.After a minute or so,he grabs a pair of your sweatpants and one of your t-shirts.Well,it was his shirt that you had stolen the last time you were at his house.Not that he cared though.
_
After a while,he emerges from the bathroom,freshly clean and smelling of your body wash.He frowns a bit when he sees you sitting at your desk again and walks over to you.He leans down and wraps his arms around you,burying his face into your neck.
"I'm tired.." he says,his voice slightly muffled from your skin.
"Go to sleep then." you say as you continue to write stuff down on your paper,leaning into him a bit.
He shakes his head slightly before lifting his head so his nose nudges against your cheek,his eyes half-lidded.
"I want you to go to sleep with me though.." he says with a slight pout.
"I have to finish my homework." You say,your eyes still on the paper but the feeling of him against you,holding you,is starting to get distracting.
"Please?" he pleads softly as he looks at you with those big blue puppy dog eyes.
And with that,your a goner.Who could say no when he asked oh so nicely?
_
A few hours later,your eyes crack open,your mouth dry.You blink a few times,letting your eyes adjust to the darkness before looking down.Dave is still dead asleep and his limbs are wrapped around you like a koala,his face buried in your chest.
'Cute..' you thought with a small tired smile before trying to pull away from him to get up and get a glass of water,but he tightens his arms around you with a soft groan,grumbling something incoherently in his sleep as he nuzzles his face deeper into your chest.
You try a few more times,but each attempt has the same reaction from him.You try one last time,and this time he moves so he's practically laying on top of you,his face buried in your neck.
"No.." he mutters softly into your neck before relaxing on top of you,slipping back into his deep sleep.
You let out a soft groan as he lays on top of you,realizing that you aren't getting up anytime soon.You wrap your arms back around him and relax,going back to sleep with Daves weight pinning you to the bed.
#dave lizewski x reader#dave lizewski#dave lizewski fluff#aaron taylor johnson x reader#aaron taylor johnson#dave lizewski fanfiction
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Dormleaders Reacting to Their Fanbase.
Genre: Crack?? I think it's crack. Not sure. Characters involved: Riddle, Leona, Azul, Kalim, Vil, Idia, and Malleus. Synopsis: How I think they would react to having so many fans, fanfictions, etc. A/N: I made this a little short. Sorry. :( anyway enjoy!! <3 Disclaimer: This is solely for entertainment purposes only. No hate to any of the ships mentioned!! Characters could potentially be ooc. Mentions of NSFW content but there isn’t actually any in the post. NOT proofread. A/N 2: Malleus’s part was inspired by a convo I had w @moonswolfie . Go follow her. Her twst stories are just- *chefs kiss* Requests: Open!
————————————————————
— He's a bit shocked that he has a whole ass fanbase. Like-?? What?? I mean, yeah, he's well-known around the school but not for good reasons. But to know that he has thousands of people who actually enjoy are obsessed with him is pretty flattering.
— Ace and Deuce are also just as surprised if not more so. Probably even questioning the tastes of the people in our world.
— Appalled when he sees a bunch of posts dissing his mom. (does find it comforting knowing all of them are on his side and seriously questions his upbringing.)
— Turns into a tomato at an impossible rate of two seconds when he sees that a LOT of people are shipping him with Trey. A bunch of screaming and incoherent stuttering. I don’t think he has ever thought of Trey as more than a friend before. (Ace is dying in the background.) — Cater has already warned him of the nsfw tags so Riddle steers FAR FAR FAR away from it. His brain is already having trouble processing that he has people that ADORE everything about him. He can’t handle reading himself being intimate with hundreds of people. He does read a fluffy fic or two.
— I feel like he would take notes of how he acts in the fanfictions so he can apply fanfic Riddle’s actions to himself.
— Art? People make art of him? — Feels a sense of pride when he looks at the drawings people make of him. He’s flattered!
— Flustered as hell, but also super happy about it. Whenever he feels down he’ll think about all the people that like him and he starts feeling a lot better. :)
— THIS COCKY MF
— HE IS SO SMUG ABOUT IT
— Considers building an entire empire of his own with you guys as his loyal, devoted subjects. Then ultimately decides not to because that’s too much work and not enough time for sleep. (Then again, we would probably understand. You guys wouldn’t dare question HIM, right??)
— Definitely rubs it in Malleus’s face the first chance he gets.
— He is watching every single edit of himself he can find. Y’all don’t understand how big of a stroke this is to his ego. His head?? It's bigger than a hot air balloon at this point. Who wouldn’t react that way if someone made edits of them? It is a huge ego boost!
— Finally, after so long, he isn’t referred to as “Falena’s brother.” No. He is Leona Kingscholar. People like HIM. Hell, he could start an entire army with all the fans he has!
— Nothing can ruin his day.
— …..
— Physically recoils when he sees the Malleus x Leona tag. Powers off his phone and then throws it against the wall. He has never been more disgusted and disappointed in all of his life.
— he still likes you guys!! dw. Just give him a couple minutes hours and maybe he’ll get over it.
— What?
— Sorry, yeah, no, he isn’t believing any of you. There is NO way people would willingly sign up for one of his contracts and enjoy it.
— Once he finally snaps out of Denial River, he is still in disbelief. That quickly gives way to him scheming and plotting on how to use this to his advantage.
— Is a customer acting rowdy after signing one of his deals? Trying to sue him over it? Well, now he has thousands of witnesses to back him up. No one can touch him now. He is the most powerful of all!
— Someone tries to attack him? Tweels, release the hounds.
— He is UNTOUCHABLE
— He's too shy to read the fanfics. And he doesn’t wanna look at the edits of himself either. It makes him cringe inside. Not because of them being made. No, the people creating them have great talent. But the reason is because it's him. — He gets curious after a while and does take a look at one edit. JUST ONE!
— And now he's hiding out in his octopot scrolling through as many as he can find. He cries seeing all the love he gets.
— He prints out some of the fanart and hangs it up in his room.
— Whenever he feels self conscious he looks at the edits and then he’s all smiles and as confident as ever.
— FANS?? HIM??
— EEEE!!!!
— :DDDD
— NO WAY!!!!!!!!!!!!
— SCREAMING! JUMPING ALL OVER THE ROOM! SO MANY FRIENDS! KICKING HIS FEET AND GIGGLING! He wants to meet all of you!
— Feels obligated to read every fanfiction, like every fanart, watch every edit. Not because he wants to make himself feel good about it, but because he wants to see how talented you guys are! And he is not disappointed.
— Gets really sad when he realizes that he can't talk to any of you guys.
— :(
— JamiKali? What’s JamiKali? What's a ship??
— Nsfw?? What does that mean?
— It doesn’t take long for Jamil to take his phone away. He probably even puts restrictions on it so Kalim doesn’t get exposed to the more inappropriate side of his fanbase.
— He does not care.
— Flattered, sure, but not as excited as the others are. Yeah, it's surprising that people still worship the ground he walks on even in another world, but not too shocking.
— He scrolls through a bunch of fan arts and criticizes them. If it doesn't resemble him perfectly then he doesn’t care for it.
— Unironically calls you guys his “adoring” fans.
— Doesn’t even look at the fanfics. He already knows that he'll see things that aren't accurate to his character. (little does he know, a lot of people write him pretty well 😭)
— REFUSES to look at the ships. He doesn’t want to see people shipping him with Neige. He already deals with it from the fans in his world so he doesn’t want to see it in another.
— Most of his reaction to this is basically “um yeah, obviously I have a fanbase. 🙄”
— Like Azul, he also does not believe it. Him?? Why would someone as insignificant as him have a fanbase? You guys must have gotten knocked on the head or something when you were younger.
— Dies and ascends to heaven once he sees that people make fanfics/art/edits of him. HE IS EXPLODING WITH HAPPINESS. Holes himself up in his room and binges e v e r y t h i n g. He makes a collage of all his favorite fanarts and uses it as his wallpaper.
— Dies again when he finds out there are figurines of him. And plushies. And rings. And and and and.
— I think his favorite out of all of this would be the fanart. Have you guys seen Ignihyde stans?? Their art is literally gorgeous omksn
— His hair instantly transforms into pink flames when he spots the ships. Him with Azul? Him with Lilia?? Him with Silver?
— Considers each and every ship he sees. I doubt he can look the other person in the eye for a while.
— His self-esteem grows a lot bit so consider that a job well done for being an Idia stan 👍
— What is a fanbase?
— The only thing this man is going to understand is the art part of everything. He’s probably used to having his portrait done in Briar Valley, so that is the only thing his mind can figure out.
— Other than that, what is a “fan fic”? What is the point of moving pictures of him with upbeat music? A ship? Why do people keep saying he's in a ship with some random person from NRC? He is clearly on the ground by himself.
— After Lilia spends the next three hours explaining everything to clueless dragon boy, Malleus finally slightly understands what the internet is. (He still doesn’t understand ships.)
— So many new additions to the gargoyle club!! On the outside he appears calm and neutral but internally he is ecstatic and doing what humans call “running around the room screaming and crying.” There are so many humans that are interested in him droning on about gargoyles! Some even want to participate in the conversation!
— Sebek is in the background complimenting all of you for having good taste and following the young master.
— He's touched by the fact that so many humans are like Yuu and don’t find him intimidating at all and even look up to him as a father figure :) (Lilia failed to tell Malleus about what the “daddy” comments truly entail. )
— He does not care that you guys are in another world. He is gonna find a way to get into contact w y’all. He is NOT letting this many friends go to waste. 😤😤
#malleus draconia#malleus x reader#malleus draconia x reader#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland x reader#dormleaders x reader#riddle rosehearts#riddle rosehearts x reader#azul ashengrotto#azul ashengrotto x reader#leona kingscholar#leona kingsholar x reader#kalim al asim#kalim al asim x reader#vil schoenheit#vil schoenheit x reader#idia shroud#idia shroud x reader#twisted wonderland fanfic#twst#cherishedhope writings#twst housewardens#twst housewardens x reader
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Cheetah
Hello everyone!
So for once this isn't a request, but more something who was walking in my head rent free and I just had to write it.
I don't know a lot about motorcycle to be honest but i made some research, so if there is some incoherence, I'm sorry!
Also I start to translate the English in Spanish before stopping, because in the end almost everyone is supposed to talk in Spanish and I'm really bad at it (I only can command something to eat and drink).
Please let me know what you think about it and enjoy ♥
TW : Moto accident, Angst, Injuries and a little bit of autodestruction maybe.
“Come on Cheetah, everyone’s waiting for you!”
You sigh softly, putting the picture you were looking at in your bag. It’s a picture of your ex-girlfriend and yourself, during your happy days. It’s been three months since the breakup and you are still mourning the end of your relationship like if it was the first hours. You still feel numb and if like someone is constantly crushing your heart in their iron grip. It’s not getting better, and it probably never will. Ona was, is, the love of your life and it’s just impossible for you to recover from it.
Falling for Ona was easy. You met her when you were both 20, even if you come from Palma de Mallorca and not Barcelona. You are a athlete too, so it wasn’t hard to cross her path at one of the Spanish awards. Patri Guijarro was there too and like you she comes from Mallorca, so she introduced you both and the rest is history.
When Ona moved to Manchester, you follow her. You find a team to train your motorcycle and your skills there. You were still young but promising on the circuit and you didn’t have trouble the find someone to help you getting better. And better you get. Just like Ona in Manchester United, you easily improve your skills and became one of the best in the world. Sure, you were sometimes away from home and Ona for your competitions, but everything was perfect.
When Ona came back to Barcelona, you flow back with her too. Some of your team came with you, some other didn’t but you can’t hold it against them. You find people to replace them and continue to race on the top of the leader boards.
The breakup didn’t come from nowhere, you can’t say that. You knew how much Ona was worried when you race, scared that you hurt yourself. You never had a big injury until now. But just after Christmas, you were implicated in an accident and Ona had trouble to concentrate in something else than that since that day.
It wasn’t your fault honestly; you just weren’t able to avoid the motorcycles already lying on the road. So, you made a gliding flight and had a concussion and a dislocated shoulder, nothing too serious. But Ona was in Barcelona while you were in Qatar, and it took almost two hours for you to be able to call her, even if you make everything possible to have your phone back.
That’s what pushed Ona to break up with you.
“I can’t keep focusing on your future death while I’m in training or supposed to be concentrated on something important, Y/N/N. I’m so sorry.” was what she told you.
Can you blame her? No. Did she told you it was because she doesn’t love you anymore? No. Did you try everything to make her change her mind? Yes. You even told her that you will stop your sport. But she’s not with you anymore and it hurt like hell.
“Hi Cheetah!” make one of your opponent when you arrive in the garage, where the motorcycles are stored.
“Hola” you mumble back.
Cheetah is your nickname, because of your speed and the feline way you stand on your bike. But it’s especially Ona’s favorite animal. You wonder if she’s still looking at your race sometimes. Probably not. You never asked Patri who became your friend with the years, the girl never talked about your breakup either. You like it that way.
One hour after, you are on your bike, ready to start your race. Your helmet is a notch off from what security recommends, but you prefer to wear it like that. Ona had forbidden you to do so and you had accepted her request without flinching. But Ona isn’t here anymore, and you have no one to care about.
Well, your brother who is in your team maybe. And probably your parents, but even if you love them, they aren’t Ona.
The qualifying rounds put you in fourth place at the start, but after a daring overtaking you manage to get gain the third place. The weather is great honestly, a little bit sunny maybe but it’s better than the rain. You are in Italy after all.
The fight for the second place is hard, your opponent always manages to stand in your way to keep you from reaching it. It starts to frustrate you, even if your team keeps telling you in the helmet to take no risks. You don’t listen to them, still being careful not to make faults though, you don’t want to have any penalty against you.
“Lenta, hermanita por favor!” (Slower, my little sister please!)
You hear your brother’s voice but don’t listen to him either. He will probably kill you for it after the race , but if you manage to get the second place, it’s worth it right? Winning is the only thing that you have left. The only thing that makes you feel a little alive.
That’s why you don’t hesitate to take other risks to get the second place. Plot twist, you shouldn’t have.
It’s the first time since you’re a teenager that you lose the control of your motorcycle, but it’s a strange feeling. You feel yourself flying and the helmet getting ripped off your head during the crash. After that it’s all black, you just have little moments of consciousness from time to time.
“No no no no no! ¡ Y/N No me hagas esto! Respira por favor!” (Don’t do that! Breath please!”)
That’s your brother voice. You don’t know where you are, you hear people screaming and probably running next to you. But you are too tired. Falling asleep now probably will help you feel better, right?
“Sigue luchando. Piensa en Ona." (Keep fighting. Think about Ona.)
Ona? You think about her every single second of the day. You are surprised by this statement, but it has the advantage to wake you up a little. Your brother usually never mention your ex-girlfriend, knowing how much the breakup is destroying you.
“Alright we take her to the ambulance, now!”
If you were able, you probably would have rolled your eyes because of the strength that this man screamed with. You are not even able to open your eyes though, and you hate the way you feel your body not responding to what you want. But your head hurt and soon you are asleep again.
The next time you are awake, it was way quiet. You hear your parents and your brother, but you have to make a big effort to understand what they are saying.
“She called her name several times in the ambulance, but she’s asleep since”
Well, that’s embarrassing. It’s useless to wonder which name you called, there only is one woman in your head after all.
“Did you call her?”
Your mother.
“No. Y/N would have probably hated me if I did.”
Is he right? Maybe. You’ll think about it later.
“She has the right to know how Y/N is.”
Point for your father.
“I’ll call Patri instead.”
Well, it’s probably better that way. Patri is one of your best friends and if Ona wants to have news of you, she will ask Patri. But once again, she probably has no interest about your health anymore.
You fall back asleep again soon after that.
Patri’s face is white when she reaches the gym of FC Barcelona Femeni. It’s not Ona who realized it first, your ex-girlfriend is focused on her exercises next to Mariona.
“Patri you alright?” Pina asks, looking at her friend with worry.
Everyone raises their gaze on the girl, but she’s only looking at Ona. And Ona knows, right there. She gulps and stand up, her hand shaking.
“What happened?” Ona asks quietly.
But Patri takes her by the hand to take her out. She doesn’t want to explain to Ona what happened in front of the others. She doesn’t know how the younger one will react at the news, and she’s scared of her reaction to be honest. Every single person in the team know how much Ona is sad about your breakup, even if she’s the one who chose to have it that way.
“Y/N had an accident during the race” Patri starts, looking at Ona with attention. “I don’t know what her injuries are or anything else. But she has that awful crash, and they came with the ambulance and those kinds of white curtains.”
Ona knows what the curtains are for. It’s to protect the dignity of the runner in the case of a serious injury… or worse. Very worse. Her face passes from white to green.
“Is there a video from the crash?”
“I don’t think it’s a good idea to…”
But Ona doesn’t listen. Like you, she’s stubborn. She wants to know. She needs to know. She doesn’t know when the accident happened, but the video of it is easy to find on social media. She doesn’t react at all during several seconds and Patri wondered if Ona’s mind crashed, too.
“She loosened her helmet” Ona whispers at first.
“What?” Patri frowned.
“She loosened her helmet! She loosened her helmet and now she’s probably dead!”
Ona’s shouting and Patri prefer that, but it’s surprising. Ona isn’t the kind of girl who shout usually. She puts a comforting hand on Ona’s arm before talking.
“We don’t know that for now” she tries, with a comforting voice.
“Haven’t you seen the crash? Haven’t you seen of hard her head hit the ground? She didn’t move after that! At all!”
Patri doesn’t know what to answer at that. Ona’s right and she regrets to have inform her so soon, without having news of you. Or your brother, who had kind of a crush for Patri before realizing that she’s as gay as you are. You still tease him about it years later.
“I’ll try to call her brother, ok? But for now, let’s get out of here.”
When you wake up next time, you have enough strength to be able to open your eyes. You don’t know what time it is, but the sun is shining behind almost closed blinds. There is someone on a chair next to you, but you are disappointed to realize that it’s only your brother. Not Ona.
“Hola” he whispers when he realizes that your awake.
You only answer with a grunt, unable to talk for now. You feel sleepy again, but you want to talk with him a little bit.
“We are at the hospital. Do you remember what happened?”
You close your eyes briefly to make him understand that you remember. Your throat feels too scratchy to talk for now. You’ll learn later that they have to intubate you to keep you alive.
“You’re lucky you’re alive, I’ll kill you a second time if you weren’t. They want to get you back in Barcelona tonight, are you okay with that?”
You don’t answer right away. Why can’t they keep you here?
“The team think it would be easier to be somewhere where they speak Spanish. And we will be closer to Mama and Papi.”
Your brother seems to understand your questions. It’s a great thing that you are both so close. You close your eyes again now and he nods before taking your hand in his. You don’t really care where you are taking care off after all.
“You can sleep now. You need to rest to get better, ok?”
You squeeze his finger softly before closing your eyes for good now, falling asleep again. You are still asleep during the transfer to Barcelona and when you wake up again you are in the Spanish’s city hospital.
Once again, it’s your brother who is here when you open your eyes. He changed his clothes but he’s still here, reading a newspaper with his feet on your bed.
“Don’t you have a house?” you groan.
He rolls his eyes after having looked at you for two seconds. Maybe to realize that he wasn’t dreaming. He threw carefully the journal next to you without putting his feet down, but everything is still blur.
“I can’t read it” you whisper.
“The Spanish’ motorcycle prodigy almost died in an awful crash yesterday. Her condition remains alarming” your brother read for you.
He’s angry. You don’t answer anything, what should you say anyway? You know that it’s your fault, if you were a little more careful nothing of that would have happened. You know too that you aren’t on the point to die, your brother wouldn’t have scolded you if that was the case.
“What are my injuries?” you ask without looking at him.
He sighs loudly before answering.
“You have broken ribs, a broken tibia, your cheekbone too, your elbow is in pieces, your shoulder has been dislocated again and you have a massive concussion. They thought that you have something broken in your spine, but it’s just a massive bruise. Oh, and you have other bruises almost on every part of your body, when it’s not burn because of the asphalt. They had to put stitches somewhere on your head and your brow bone too.”
you stay silence for several seconds, completely stunned. These are massive injuries, you know it. It will probably need a lot of time to heal all of them and that mean that you will miss the end of the championship. You were on the top 3, and it’s an awful disillusionment for you. You were already picturing yourself on the podium at the end of the season.
“How many time am I supposed to stay in bed? Before starting my rehab?”
He frowns softly, not expecting this question.
“They don’t know for now if you elbow will be well enough to start racing again”
“Of course it will be” you snort.
“No” your brother answer. “It’s serious, Y/N. You maybe won’t be able to drive a motorcycle again. On a circuit at least.”
“You don’t understand. I don’t have the choice. This is all I have left now.”
Your breakup was awful for you, but it was for your family too. You weren’t always careful with you, but Ona pushed you to be reasonable and stayed in the track. Now you don’t have anyone to hold you back. Ona was the only one you were listening. You don’t listen to anyone now. Only your Abuela when she when she emotional blackmails you. But your loved ones try not to use that card too much to not burn it.
“You have to stop that. You still have people who care for you. The Oldies do, I do, your friends do. I know that the breakup sucks, but you can’t play with your life like you do.”
“Piss off” is all you mumble back.
Because you know he’s right, but what are you supposed to do now that he’s here with you and you would give ten years of your life to swap him with Ona? He doesn’t answer anything, knowing that you’re out of arguments and that you know he’s right.
“Did she… Did she call you?”
“She didn’t have to” he answers after a moment of hesitation. “I called Patri as soon as we were in your hospital room in Italy.”
This hurt a little more, to be honest. You are not aware that Ona was with Patri every time she received a call or a message from your brother. You sight softly before closing your eyes. Your head starts to hurt like hell, which is probably normal for a concussion.
You wake up several hours later and you already know that it’s the night. There isn’t any noise coming from outside your room and no light from outside. But there is someone sitting on the chair next to you.
“Ona?”
It’s seems almost impossible, but it’s definitively Ona. You are able to recognize her silhouette in the dark after all these years passed with her. Even if you haven’t seen her in the last three months.
“It’s worse than anything” she mumbles, looking somewhere near your broken leg.
“What?”
“Not knowing how you are. I thought that break up with you will help me to stop worrying about your races, but it’s worse every time. I almost called you or messaged you before every race just to hear your voice, but I just couldn’t. And then I learned about your accident, and I have to live with the thought that you were dead for several hours.”
She raises her eyes on you, and you have trouble to support her gaze, even if you are in the dark.
“I’m sorry” you finally say.
“Really?”
She seems unconvinced and she has every right to be. She knows you, better than anyone.
“Well, I’m sorry that you were worried because of me. But as you see, I’m alive.”
She rolls her eyes and let her back go against the chair she is sitting on. You still feel strange, without knowing if it’s because of the drugs or because you are dreaming. You don’t have really anything to lose, so you ask.
“Is it real life?”
Ona looked at you with an obvious surprise on her beautiful face. God you missed her so damn much.
“What do you mean?”
“Is it real or am I dreaming?”
“Are you making the move where you ask me if I am an angel?”
You stupidly laugh before regretting it, your ribs protesting hardly. Ona seems alarmed when you groan in pain, putting your non-injured hand on it.
“I’m ok” you whisper, taking several small breaths, the big one would have been too hurtful.
“You are not” Ona mumbles.
She’s right.
“It’s less painful than the thought that I lost you.”
She sighs once again and looks at her fingers before shaking her head softly. You wanted to grab her hand, but she’s on your bad side and your arm is in that awful cast.
“Tell me what I have to do to have a second chance, Oni. I’ll do every single thing you’ll ask me. I swear. Please” you beg when she stays silence for several seconds.
“What if I ask you to stop your stupid moto?”
There is a challenge in her voice, and you know why. One time, she told you that she’s not even sure that if she asks you to choose between her and your sport, you’ll chose her. At that time, you didn’t know that she was serious, you thought that it was something she wasn’t thinking and said due to the fight. How wrong you were.
“I’ll do it” you answer without any doubt.
She seems surprised, looking at you with two big eyes. You have always loved Ona’s eyes, some people said that brown eyes are the most common and expressionless. They never have crossed Ona’s gaze.
“I saw what a life without you is Ona and I don’t want that life. I want you and if I have to stop my sport, I’ll do it if you still want me.”
She sighs and rubs her eyes. She seems tired to be honest, but maybe because it’s the middle of the night and that she’s supposed to be asleep right now.
“I didn’t break up with you because I don’t love you anymore. I still do and I think I will for all my life. I need you to be a part of my life too.”
Her words are melody in your ears, but you feel like there still is something else. Like if something was restraining her.
“But…?” you mumble, looking for her eyes.
“But I can’t continue like this. I thought you were dead.”
She’s crying now and your heart hurt like if someone just punch it. You move in the bed, trying desperately to touch her or anything to try to comfort her. Your ribs and your legs burn awfully, and you ignore your elbow hurting in protest.
“Ona I’m so sorry, I swear” you say, managing to take her hand in yours.
The position is awful, and you wonder briefly if you can throw up even if you haven’t eaten anything since almost two days.
“I didn’t think it will hurt you that way. Please don’t cry” you continue.
She shakes her head softly, kind of laughing between her tears.
“Why would you think that?”
“Because you left me. And you blocked me everywhere.”
That point hurts, too. You weren’t even able to look at her social media to have news of her, you were reduced to follow fan’s account of her.
“I just couldn’t live with you popping randomly on my timelines. It hurts too much every time.”
You nod and that the gesture who make your position too hurtful. You roll on your back, trying to hold your whine of pain. But Ona sees it anyway and frown almost instantly.
“Do you want me to call them to have more painkillers?”
“Are they ok with you being here? I don’t want them to make you leave” you admit with a law voice.
There is a beam of silence.
“I won’t leave your side” she says in a comforting voice.
You want to believe that she means it for like all your life. But having her tonight is what you have best for now. So, you nod, closing shortly your eyes when she rings the nurses. The door is open only a minute after and you open your eyes again when you hear Ona’s voice.
“I think she’s ready for more painkillers” the brunette says.
“I will give some to you” the nurse says to you before adding something in your intravenous. “What hurts?”
“Everything” you admit softly.
She nods and gives you a smile in sympathy. You look at her doing her things, missing Ona’s small winces at your admission. The nurse starts to talk again when she’s at the door, ready to leave.
“You will feel better like this. After that it will be great if you try to eat something. You will be sleepy for now though.”
Your eyes fly to Ona who is already looking at you. She said that she will stay by your side, but does she meant while you sleep too? She probably has training or somewhere to go. A match to play? You don’t know which day is it anymore, the painkillers are starting to kick already, making you confuse.
“Ona” you manage to say.
“Sleep, Hermosa. I’ll be here when you wake up, ok?”
Two weeks after, you are finally leaving the hospital. You still have to leave in a wheelchair, much to your disappointment. But with almost half of your body injured, there is no way that you are able to walk with crutches.
The only positive thing is that the person who is pushing the wheelchair is Ona and that she managed to make it funny, sliding on it in the hospital’s floor. Your brother is following with your suitcases, smiling softly while watching both of you.
After learning that you will be alright, you parents went home in Mallorca two days before you were authorized to go home. They proposed to you to come back to Mallorca with them and you have to admit that you miss your island, but there is no way that you are somewhere Ona isn’t.
When you felt better, you had a very intense and long discussion about your relationship, both of your feelings, what you both expect from that said relationship and where you want it to go.
Ona is the one who will look after you on daily basis, but sometimes your brother will need to take you to your appointment when Ona is away or training. The end of the season is soon here, but there still is the Olympics this Summer so she has to prepare herself intensively.
Your girlfriend’s here, one month after, when you are in the doctor’s office for the worst moment of your professional life. Sitting next to you, she’s holding your hand when the doctor looks at you with an awful sorry face.
“I don’t know where to start” he begins, playing with the sheets on his desk.
“Just go straight into it, Doc” you sigh softly.
You know already that you will hate what is going to be say. Ona’s fingers stroking your hand help, but your heart is still beating faster than ever.
“You are making good progress, I saw that they removed your cast on your feet, but we are really concerned about your elbow. We don’t think it will be fit enough for you to be able to start motorcycle in a professional way anymore.”
You were waiting for it, but it’s still hurt to hear that. Motorcycle is the only thing you knew since you were a teenager, you never thought about doing anything else in your life. You swallow softly before passing a hand on your face. You did everything you can to be able to start again, followed every advice your team gave you. But it’s not enough.
“I don’t know what to say” you finally mumble, looking at an imaginary point somewhere on the desk. “It’s all I know; I don't know how to do anything else.”
“I can pick you an appointment with our psychotherapist if you want to. It can help.”
“Can we leave? I’ll tell you if I want one”
For now, you just want to get out of this office and be able to breath some fresh air. Ona helps you to get up even if you don’t need help anymore. You suppose it’s a way to comfort you. You are glad for her. She doesn’t say anything while you are getting out of the building, but she doesn’t let your hand go when you lean against the railing once outside.
“What am I going to do, Ona?” you whisper softly.
She let go of your hand now, but it’s only to pass her arm around your waist and hold you close.
“Whatever you want mi Amor. It’s ok not to know now, but you still have a bunch of possibilities. We will figure it out together, yeah?”
She kisses your cheek, and you close your eyes, letting yourself being cuddle a little more. It’s not the same feeling that the one when you lost Ona. You know there is different exit doors, you just have to find the good one. Ona will be your light in the dark.
Several weeks later, you are in France. Not for a race, but for playing the WAG for your girlfriend who is playing the final today. She introduces you to others girlfriends/wife of her teammates and you get along great with everyone. You watched every single game in the stadium, and you were able to see Ona several times in between. You missed her and she was worried sick to let you alone at home, but you are pretty fine.
You are famous in the world of sport so it’s not a surprise that you are not able to skip some interviews while going to the stand to attend the finale.
“Y/N” said one journalist when he puts her microphone under your mouth, with an awful French accent. “You announced your retirement sooner this month because of your massive injuries. How are you feeling?”
“I’m still sad about it, of course. It wasn’t my choice and I think it makes it harder but I didn’t have the choice. I’m sad not to be able to finish the championship this year, I was really well ranked, but you know…”
You shrug, thinking that’s between his accent and yours, people on social media will have a great fun.
“Do you think you will come back in the motorcycle world one day?”
“Not as a racer obviously, but why not. I still need to figure what to do with my life, but first I have to heal correctly.”
“Thanks for your answers” he smiles. “Do you have a favorite for today?”
“Spain, obviously” you smile back.
“Have you a favorite player?”
You almost roll your eyes at that. Your relationship with Ona is a common knowledge for everyone, you are not hiding yourself. You both weren’t as famous before and you were posting without really thinking about it.
“Oh, I don’t know… Number two is pretty great” you smirk, looking at the jersey you are wearing.
You hear someone giggle in the background, and you are pretty sure to recognize Irene’s wife waiting for you with Mateo. You soon say goodbye to the journalist to find your place in the stand. You are sitting next to Ona’s family obviously and your family made the travel too. They are sitting next to other Majorcans people, Cata’s family and Mariona’s brother and mother aren’t far away neither.
When Ona smiles at you during the national anthem after looking around to find you, you smile back and say “T’estimo” to her. You know that she can’t hear you, but she easily can read it on your lips.
You don’t know what the results of this game will be, like you don’t know what you will do in several months. But you know you will be fine, because you will be with her.
Ona is your forever and you don’t want another.
#woso imagine#woso x reader#woso fanfics#ona batlle imagine#ona batlle#ona batlle x reader#woso one shot
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Bad End: Trust
"Meet your new mates, cargo! Get breeding!"
I didn't understand the bellowed noises at the time. It was just incoherent gibberish. Heaped on top of what was likely a concussion, mixed with what ever drugs they had pumped me with. Thrown into a cell, roughly, and hitting the ground hard. I couldn't have caught myself if I had wanted too. My limbs, unresponsive and dragging meat, that I could barely FEEL.
Please, god, I had thought. Don't let me be paralyzed. Not on top of everything else.
They'll kill me.
Behind and around me, the weeping cries of sorrow and fear rang out. Screams of violence, born of desperation. Countless races, bound together, suffering in this hell. Newly enslaved. I didn't... I couldn't understand. Shaking and struggling to remain conscious, laying on the blood stained floor. The world swayed violently. It was all I could do, to barely keep from passing out.
It was so cold. The air, the floor, the deep and clawing despair, sinking like knives into my gut. Those furry... things, had grabbed me while I was alone, before I could react. W-would anyone notice? Could anyone DO anything? I wanted to get away from the door. Curl up in a corner and... and cry. But I could not move. Like a doll, dropped thoughtlessly on the floor, I could not... could not move.
Tears I likely could not afford, threatened to choke me.
I... I was scared.
Then, deeper in the hovel that was my new home, movement. The heavy clink of chains. Shifting, slow and careful, followed by the drag of metal. A warm hand. Fingers, calloused but careful, checking my neck. My pulse, for injury perhaps, I couldn't tell. But... god, i could have sobbed in relief. They... they felt human.
How terrible of me. That I was GLAD not to be alone. T-That it was relief, to have another person here. Someone who might know what's going on. What to do. To.. to stick with. I... I should wish it was just me, right? That they captured no one else? But... oh god. O-Oh God, I can't! I'm scared. Please. P-please...
I'm so scared.
The person checking me hummed low and soft. Their voice crackling like an old radio that's been left sitting on a shelf too long, unused. How.. how long has it been? Since they last had anyone to talk too? They sounded male, but.. but I didn't want to presume. Could just have a low voice. Throat injury. Might be Trans. I didn't care, couldn't care. I was pretty sure? We were all we had now.
They... no, He, found nothing alarming enough not to move me. Shifting into view as he gently slipped his arms under me. Enough to pick me up and carry me away from the door. He was... is... pretty handsome.
Okay, REALLY handsome.
Horrifically enough? I could see WHY they grabbed him. Athletic as hell, TV ready, really smart. If you were going to ignore ever bit of decency and morality to ever exsist? Might as well go for the best, I guess. Don't know why they grabbed ME, but I guess? They need a stand in or something? Or my predecessor is dead.
(God, I hope she's dead. The alternative...)
Pretty quickly became apparent, though, that one of the main problems (of so, SO many)? Was we don't actually speak the same language. Which... I mean... Well, shit. That's, putting it mildly, "less then ideal". Being unable to communicate with the only other person nominally on "My Side"? Kinda bad! But, I AM learning. And I am teaching him english! So there's that.
We have nothing but time, after all. It helps distract from the suffering just outside. The weeping and screams. The sounds that must be begging, in alien dialects. All the mercies they do not find.
(Is it terrible? That I am glad I can not understand what they are saying? Their cries for help? I can't help them. It hurts. Helpless to even save my self. God, I'm sorry. Please... I'm... I'm so sorry...)
Food gets shoved in. Lights flipped on. Lights shut off. The timer odd, but probably standard for somewhere. It's like being told to go to sleep halfway through the afternoon. Yanked awake before full nights are done. I struggle to adapt, even a little, following my fellow prisoner's lead. Or, well, trying too. There's a lot of charades at first.
Then, practicing our languages. Taking what naps and cuddling for warmth we can. Harsh lights be damned. It's cold, we're tired, but we have to keep our strength up. Right? Throughout it all, I try to ignore the weird smells they pump in. Still not used to getting random scents blasted at my head from above, from the air vents in the walls.
Day in, day out, rinse and repeate. The weird gasses smells like people have had sex, to be honest. I think? But don't quote me. They might be trying to get us to "mate", like animals, so they can sell our kids. Induce some nonexistent human heat cycle or something. I've kinda started to worry, not gonna lie, about what they'll do... you know, once they finally get frustrated. Figure out, we don't work like that.
Or... more relevantly, might not even be? Compatible?
Cause Azenari is DEFINITELY not a human. They fucked uuuup. Cause if he is? There is some probably serious divergent evolution going on. He did NOT get nabbed from Earth. HE got nabbed from his SHIP(as in, yeah, a fuckin Space Ship). Because HIS people are space faring! The man has pointy ears for fucks sake! Some seriously fangy canines. And while, yeah, seriously kinda cool? No idea if our species are related, or... you know...
So yeah, The Fur Covered Slaver Bastards are apparently Humanoid face blind, on TOP of being just generally terrible. Or dumb! Might be dumb, honestly. Wouldn't put it past them. Banality of evil and all that. But recently? There was a... tension. Something was coming. The Bastards seemed twitchy.
"Not long now, beloved. We're two stops from the extraction ambush." Azenari murmured, from where he was tucked loosely around me as I watch the latest patrol pass, one arm cradling me tight. Even as, with the other hand, he sleepily stroked my back. "You'll look lovely in proper robes. You deserve finery, my love."
I couldn't understand most of the sentence. Normally he simplified for me, since I was still learning. He seemed... pleased? Smug? The more tense and twitchy the Bastards got, the more darkly amused he seemed to become. As though he knew exactly why. As though he was laughing inside.
"My magnificent darling, you'll belong to me in everyway that matters. I'll take safer jobs. No more slave ring stings. I promise."
Oh. I think I got it. Azenari though of me as family! Yeah, that tracked. Trauma bonding and all. I did too. Couldn't help but smile, hugging him back, much to his clear delight. Yeah. We were in this together.
I'm glad I had someone I could trust. The universe was big and I would be pretty much alone without him. All but thrown at his feet and told I was his, Azenari had every chance to hurt me. But he didn't. He was a good man. Solid and stable when everything when frightening, warm and there when I needed to hide.
Really, it was only a matter of time before we would be chatting like old friends!
"You are NEVER going to escape me, beloved."
"I Love You."
#threepandas#yandere#yandere x reader#yanblr#reader insert#yanderecore#long post#sci fi yandere#tw slavery#under cover agent yandere#captured reader#off screen SA suggested#so#tw sa implied#alien slaver ship#yeah totally reader#you can TOTALLY trust Yandere man!#im sure that language barrier is hiding NOTHING of great significance!#language barrier#bad end trust#bad end trust au
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I love the idea of a perv ghost or graves. like stealing underwear and shit but the reader is into that 🤤
a/n: why not both ehe, grave's a little different i didn't want it to be so similar to ghosts'
not proofread!
↳ ⁀➷ ∵ ❝they like your drawers❞
∵ GHOST ��
It wasn't uncommon for you to lose your drawers, you often did your laundry in big loads at the end of the week and sometimes they just go missing. But it was that last time, it irked you.
You walk into the laundry room after a long day of doing paperwork, the boring stuff to get your clothes from the dryer. on base the entire building would share the laundry room so it wasn't uncommon to run into different people, you didn't really expect to run into the LT though.
"Sir." You say, walking past him on his way out. He replies to you with a brisk nod. Then when you look at the machine you were using it was slightly open, what the hell?
You got your items, folding your uniform and pyjamas to find all your underwear missing. You groan, rolling your eyes. It couldn't have been him, right? Why the hell would he want—unless he fancied you but...it's Ghost, he wouldn't—well he might actually.
You're only annoyed because you're running out of panties.
The next time you run into him in the laundry room again but this time you're sat right in front of the laundry machine, waiting for the wash to finish to move your clothes to the dryer. You came later than usual, the time you tend to finish doing laundry to try to catch the culprit and well, Ghost stands there frozen as if he wasn't expecting you here.
"Evening, LT."
Ghost grumbles, but responds. "Sergeant."
"Doing laundry?" You ask, looking down at his empty hands with your brows raised. It was obvious now that it was him. Even with his mask and unreadable posture you can just tell.
You stand up leaning against the laundry machine as you unload your wet clothes into the dryer waiting for his response.
He only huffs, muttering to himself incoherently.
You finish your task and take leave your basket a top the dryer, it would take about an hour and half to finish the drying so you were going to leave, do something else while you wait.
You made sure to bump into Ghost on your way out, apologising insincerely, "Sorry, Sir. I should be more careful."
He doesn't say a thing, taking your impact like a tank. You don't see the way he lets out a massive sigh of relief not being caught, or so he thought. When you're gone he felt a bulge in his pants—not the usual bulge but something in the pocket of his cargos.
He reaches in with his bone painted gloves, ragging out a handful of unwashed underwear. He gulps, looking at them. He can't help the way his cock twitches at them, usually he gets them washed—dried but...these were fresh. He can't help but imagine how he was going to fuck his own fists with your panties buried in it. There is a handful of them, he was definitely going to pretend to eat you out with the fabric on his face later.
∵ GRAVES ∵
Your commander is annoying, he talks too much and can't keep his opinions to himself.
It was when you were leant over in the cockpit looking over at the pilot's dashboard. You look behind you, "We're approaching five klicks from target, Commander!"
It's the look on his face, the way he probably didn't even hear you. He's just looking at you with that shit-eating grin on his face. "You wear a thong to work, Lieutenant?" He smirks, looking back at his shadows shamelessly. "Boys, LT. wears the cutest little thong under her uniform."
Your eye practically twitch. Under your mask you sneer with annoyance as he laughs along with the team. You stand, walking back towards the cabin. "Anyone that laughs, I'll make sure doesn't come back alive." After all, you were above all their ranks but Graves.
They all shut up almost immediately, watching the way you glare daggers into Graves as you sat down. Graves lets you order the boys around, scare 'em. It's good practice.
He still smiles, that little shit. He takes his helmet off and sits down right next to you, purposely right up against the side of your body and hits your leg with his teasingly.
"Got anymore of 'em?" He whispers, his head bumping into yours.
You grunt, crossing your arms. "Shut up."
"You never wear 'em for me."
You scoff, looking him in those pretty eyes of his. "Cause, you don't deserve my nice underwear. I only wear 'em for special occasions."
"Who the fuck are ya wearin' em for then?" He's got a stitch in his brow. You like pissing him off, like pissing off a chihuahua but this dog bites pretty damn hard.
You lean towards him, bumping your forehead against the side of his head. "Who knows, maybe the captain of that team you hate so much."
"Don't you fuckin'—"
You stand to interrupt him, you can feel him seething next to you. "Let's go shadows! Let's take this fuckin' place."
During the mission you can hear how irritated Graves seemed and especially when he stands with you by his side giving Task Force 141 some respect after completing the mission with them. He keeps looking at you from the corner of his eyes as if daring to you fuckin' say something right now to the Captain.
You stand there popping your hip with your hand against the end of your rifle as it acts as a support, you turn your head pretending to make eyes at the Captain and overly nodding. "It was nice serving by your side, Captain."
You can hear Grave's kiss his tongue over his teeth. When you see him from the corner of your eyes his jaw was tight, clenching.
When the Captain gives you his regards, a flirty smile and a nod with his hat you beamed, more at the thought of how mad Graves probably was. It's when you stand and wave towards their squad that you feel Graves coming up to your side, his hand rolling up your hip before he grips it tightly.
You can feel his fingers looking for something, but he can't seem to find it. His brows furrow. Your hand comes up beside him, dropping his prize into his hand. "You wanted it right?"
You smile under the mask pushing off him. He holds it in his hand and you think you can see his cheeks redden. But then he notices you're walking away from him. "Where the fuck are you going?"
"To show that Captain how good my ass looks without 'em on." You point to the panties in Graves' hand and you swear you can see steam coming out of his ears.
He practically chases you down, grabbing you by your belt and holding you against him. You could feel it, pressing against your hip.
"You like making me jealous, don't you?"
"I like seeing you possessive, Sir, " You remark before nodding towards the panties still in his grip. "I'll need those back."
"Nah, they're mine now." He brings it up to his face, pressing his lips against them. "You can ride on the helo back without 'em. maybe instead my hands between your legs, hm?
#cod smut#cod drabble#cod requests#cod mwii#ghost smut#ghost drabble#ghost fic#simon ghost riley fic#simon ghost riley drabble#simon ghost riley smut#ghost#simon ghost riley#graves drabble#graves fic#graves smut#phillip graves smut#phillip graves drabble#phillip graves fic#graves x reader#ghost x reader#phillip graves x reader#simon ghost riley x reader
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kiss your best friend | ignihyde
kiss your best friend and see how they react!
parts. one , two , three , four , five , six , seven
characters. idia, ortho
content. gender neutral reader as usual, platonic for the bby, wingman ortho at it again, forgot about this ngl
note. sorry guys idia's part was messy but I mean, I'm just portraying his chaotic feelings ig. I SWEAR ORTHO'S PART MAKES UP FOR IT SINCE HES THE CALMER ONE
damn part six finally hear after almost a year (I'm so sorry help)
idia
is having the fastest inner monolog you will ever hear in your life, if it was being read out loud that is. could be nominated as rapper of the year with how fast he's blurting out thoughts in his mind.
also probably vocals of the year too with how high pitched, and small in range it is. what a versatile king 🔥
'anywaysitooklike10yearstryingtofindthisitemcausetheysaidtheysawitbutohmygodwhatinthethreehellsishappeningOMGaretheykissingmechatamidreamingOMGimnot??WHAT WARAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA'
to make your life easier 'anyways it took like ten years trying to find this item cause they said they saw it but oh my god what in the three hells is happening OMG are they kissing me chat am I dreaming OMG I'm not??? WHAT *incoherent screeching.'
probably has never kissed anyone besides his body pillows which is just one sided making out so completely forgets his 'lessons on teaching himself how to kiss' and freezes up. comically gets goosebumps and remains frozen even after you pull away.
then starts turning red from feet to head??
he has so many questions that he in fact, does NOT want to ask cause even if it cost his life he can't question you if you guys are dating now cause YOU JUST KISSED HIM SO THAT MEANS YOU BOTH UPGRADE LEVELS.
wait he can't call it friendship level. clearly you're both past level 10 now right?? INTIMACY LEVEL???? HE DOESNT KNOW HES PANICKING.
is too awkward to ask and acts even more awkward as the time is more prolong during the time he's just left wondering what the hell you guys are now cause he's too pussy to do anything without confirmation that you're both duos for life now.
ortho
is the one idia rants to about his predicament right after you part ways.
like, idia doesn't even try to call or contact ortho through the means of technology even if it meant getting to talk faster. he's BOLTING to the dorm with his unathletic ass (with breaks in between.) because the tea he was going to spill was that good.
listens intently and goes :O when idia finally mentions the part where you randomly kiss him out of the blue, by the way only getting to the point after idia spills.. umm.. the wrong thing to be honest, literally retold the whole day until that point.
yeahhhh.. he has the energy atleast.
idia is probably telling ortho about how it meant nothing even though you literally outright kissed him, to the cheek, mouth, or something and he's still gonna say it didn't mean anything.
ortho gotta be the one telling idia to make the move cause no idiot would mistake that for nothing (except idia apparently but he'll have everyone know that his brother is a tech genius!!)
they both do one of those scenes in movies where P1 - idia, is talking to you in real life with an earpiece, and P2 - ortho is said person behind the earpiece. basically the one telling idia what he should do because that guy is too lost for his own good.
"brother move closer!"
"... isn't this too close already though--" <- embarrassed and regretting everything
in the end he did manage to get a label on the two of you, no thanks to HIM and all the thanks to ortho <3
note. ortho's part just ended up as an extension of idia's part but I always love to include him in everything :') just some behind the scenes on how idia actually got a relationship (ITS ALL ORTHO)
not pr, who prs anyways cries
#ㅤ◜◡◝ . . signed#twst x reader#twisted wonderland x reader#twisted wonderland#twst#twst fluff#twisted wonderland headcanons#twisted wonderland scenarios#twisted wonderland imagines#idia shroud#idia shroud x reader#ortho shroud#ortho shroud x reader#x gn reader#ignihyde
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Strange Honey
Billy (Burn 2019) x GN!Reader
Summary: One night at a bar, you meet a very mysterious man with a burn on the side of his face. As the tense and strained person you see him as, you decide to offer him some ease, giving the wannabe cowboy one hell of a ride.
Word Count: 2.4k
Content: 18+ Smut, MDNI, gender neutral reader, Billy the wannabe cowboy, penetration (unspecified genitals for reader), oral (male and reader receiving), swearing, reader being referred to as ‘pretty’ and ‘slut’, unprotected sex, drinking
(A/n: PLEASE PLEASE listen to this song, it’s not only by small, indie band but it’s also just so fitting!!: 60s western cowboy vibe and horniness, it’s an amazing fit—just trust me!! Also I want it to be implied that the Melinda SA scene never happened prior in this fic, otherwise Billy would have some sort of PTSD that would probably not make him ready for anything sexual for a long time :( nevertheless, i hope you enjoy!!)
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The moment he walked in through those doors, he instantly became a mystery. Someone you have easily became infatuated with by just the mere sight of him.
Sure, his getup was quite tasteless—the denim on denim and subtle cowboy boots that screamed ‘wannabe cowboy’—but that wasn’t what really captivated you, despite the additional charm of his pretty eyes and lips; it was the red, tender burn occupying an area of skin on the right side of his face.
He lets out a gruff sigh of exhaustion as he sat one stool away from you at the bar, incoherently grumbling his order to the bartender. You observe him for a while, before getting his attention by whistling softly at him. When he turned to look at you, it allowed you to see him from a closer distance from before, and your eyes slightly widened at the clearer sight of his burn.
“Holy shit, man. You look like hell,” you scoff, raising your glass of liquor to your lips, taking a short, yet calculated sip. “The fuck happened to you?”
He looked at you with a displeased scowl, probably offended by your reaction. “I don’t wanna fucking talk about it,” he replied bitterly in a low mutter.
Only amused, you chuckle playfully. “Rough night?”
He nods quietly in agreement as the bartender gave him his drink. Bourbon, you assumed. “Alright,” you begin. “So what’s a handsome thing like you doing in a shithole like this?”
You finally saw a smile—or perhaps a smirk—creep onto the corner of his lips. You could tell he was quite flattered by the ‘handsome’ comment. And that smile only reinforced it, proving your point even more—he was incredibly attractive. “To drink,” he answered, finally looking up at you. He was exceptional at keeping eye contact. The way his brown eyes bore into yours enhanced your intrigue for him.
“To forget?” You assume, raising an eyebrow. He nodded a yes, offering an amused and knowing grin. He liked you. “Well… Bourbon’s not gonna do shit for you in this case.”
You call over the bartender. “Another firewater, please, for the gentleman,” you tell, then looking back at the man with an alluring smirk. “On me,” you wink. “I’m Y/n, by the way.”
“Billy.” He let out a pleased chuckle, already fascinated by you. “Sorry, ‘firewater’?” He asked with a curious, blank face.
“It’s just liquor.” You scoff playfully, “And you call yourself a cowboy?”
“I never—”
“C’mon,” you snicker teasingly. “The jacket? The shirt? The jeans? And the fuckin’—fuckin’ cowboy boots?” You scoff as you look at him up and down. Checking him out, almost. “The belt buckle, however, is very impressive.”
The charming, brown-haired man grinned with a self-satisfied huff under his breath. He looked to the bartender as he abruptly gives him the drink you ordered him, then looked back at you, the slight curl of his lips still intact. “So what’s your whole deal then, hm? What’s a pretty little thing like you doing in this very shithole?” He asks, referencing back to your cheeky question.
“I’m, uh… I’m also here to forget,” you pursed your lips then smirked as you answer him. The man shrugs in response and grabs his drink.
“Well, then. To the shitty events that led us to this shitty bar,” he raised his glass and then you raised yours.
“Cheers,” you mutter amusedly, and the two of you take a swig of your drinks.
Billy nearly choked on it as he scowled immediately, looking down at his glass with humorous contempt. “What the fuck is this shit?”
You felt your throat burn acidly, yet also gratifyingly as you gulp down your liquor, giggling at the sight of him. “Firewater,” you replied as you heard him mutter swears of complaints to himself.
“Yeah, no shit,” he retorted scornfully, “It’s strong as fuck.”
You raise an eyebrow, preparing to tease him. “You sure you’re a real cowboy?” You scoff with an endearing grin.
“Seriously? You’re still on about that?” He says in disbelief, yet he enjoyed the conversation nonetheless. “What, do I need a red bandana and a cowboy hat—”
“You definitely need a cowboy hat,” you chuckle. “That’s exactly what you’re missing.”
“So I need the whole getup?” He raises an eyebrow. You nod. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” He was so attracted to your smile.
“Okay, so like… even a lasso?”
You laugh. “Of course. You can’t just be all hat and no cattle.”
He snickered under his breath. “I’m guessing I’m gonna need a horse as well?”
You pursed your lips, laughing once more. And he was addicted to it. “Hmm, a horse? Yeah, not so much,” you reply dismissively.
“Oh yeah? Isn’t that, like, standard cowboy criteria?” He huffs, staring into your eyes curiously, which reminded you again of his immaculate eye contact. “Why not?”
You take a confident swig of your firewater, feeling the burning sensation in your throat linger, licking your lips and returning his gaze…
“I know something else you can ride.”
* * *
He pushes you against the wall, hands under your shirt moving up and down your sides frantically as his his lips move roughly with yours. The confined atmosphere of the motel room was extremely hot, and you weren’t sure if it was from all the friction that you and Billy produced or the shitty, cheap air-conditioning. After all, you two were in a rush, drunk from arousal, and desperate for each other’s bodies. And because a dirty bathroom in a shitty bar deemed to be too unsanitary for your taste, you found the nearest motel.
“Hell,” you mutter into Billy’s lips hotly. You felt him grip onto your hips and start to grind on you, using the wall as a leverage as he rolled his hips onto yours. He muttered a curse as the friction of his jeans against yours had satisfyingly aggravated you both. The two of you whined from the grinding until you pushed him off of yourself, shoving him hard against the wall and going down onto your knees.
You begin to unbuckle the belt that you earlier regarded as impressive, due to its authentically cowboy-like quality, then unbuttoned and unzipped his tight, light-wash jeans, dragging it down to his ankles as well as his boxers. His cock sprang out immediately after you pulled down the cloth, and you held in a moan, admiring the sight.
“Fuck, Billy,” you breathe in awe, helping him step out of the clothes that were previously sitting at his ankles. You look up at him once—again, he was graceful at eye contact, and you could easily read his desperation.
You began to smear his precum around his slit, bringing out a small whimper from him. You start to hear him panting once your hand is around his dick, pumping at a slow pace. Then, his eyes rolled up to the back of his head in pleasure, letting out a sigh of arousal as the tempo of your hand increased.
You kept your hand at the base of his cock as you started to leave kitten licks on his sensitive pink tip, Billy eliciting sensual hums until your mouth eagerly welcomes in his head. He lets out a soft groan as your lips are around him, sucking the head as your hand moves up and down to stroke his shaft, your other hand resting on his thigh for support.
He bites back a moan as he choked out your name, and you feel his hands on your head once you move your mouth further down as far as you could. Now, you let both of your hands grip onto his porcelain hips for better control, your head bobbing up and down his girthy cock.
“M-mm, fuck, Y/n, you’re s-so fucking good for me, fuck,” he rasped, gripping onto your hair, letting his fingers tangle in the messy strands. Your cheeks flush as you increase your suction around him, finally hearing him moan, his vocals echoing in the empty motel room. “That’s it… yeah… fuck…” His volume increases once you fondle his balls, caressing him with your palm.
You feel yourself lose control of the entire situation as his hold on your hair tightened, him beginning to thrust his cock into your mouth, practically fucking your throat. Tears begin to well up in your eyes as you look up at him, nearly gagging on his dick.
“G-god,” he mumbled, using both hands on your head to practically use you as if your mouth was his own personal fleshlight. His moans began to increase in volume as you heard pathetic whines of desperation—but you couldn’t say anything, of course; you were the one spurring muffled moans, choking around his cock.
“Shit… Shit—I’m—fuck, I’m gonna cum,” he breathed heavily, increasing his pace until he came, spilling his white, bitter fluid in your mouth, choking on his seed as you struggled to swallow it all—but you did.
Without giving either of you time to catch your breaths, Billy manhandled you, grabbing onto you and throwing you down on the squeaky, cheap mattress that the motel had to offer. He nearly ripped off your pants and your underwear along with it, moving his head between your legs and holding your thighs onto his shoulders. You felt the cold metal of his golden ring on your skin as his hands squeezed your thighs. You moaned out his name as you felt his tongue work on you, sucking and licking at your flesh.
“Ah—f-fuck—Billy!”
Your hips jolted at the sensation of his mouth pleasuring you, your knuckles turning pale as you grip tightly onto the sheets below you. His tongue moved down to prod at your hole, wetting it before his tongue would enter, making you release a prolonged, high-pitched whine. Almost instantly, he replaces it with a finger, pushing the digit in and out steadily, not hesitating to add another, the pace of the thrusts increasing until he finally pulled them out, watching you whimper from the loss of touch.
He quickly removes your shirt, lifting it off from above, and after taking off his jacket and throwing it to the side, you frantically unbuttoned his shirt, getting him out of the sleeves until the two of you were both completely naked.
He held you down once more on your back aggressively, sitting on his knees with his hands on the mattress between your head, a thin, silver necklace dangling above your face that hung from Billy’s neck. Your cheeks were flushed red and you panted as he lined up his body with yours, and finally eased his cock through your entrance. And once he was perfectly in, that was his signal.
He thrusted his hips quickly into yours, shoving his dick inside of you deeper with every snap of his hips, abusing your hole. His loud grunts easily transitioned into whimpers to full-on moans, hearing a couple of ‘fuck’’s and ‘oh god’’s. But you—you were even worse. You were under him, being fucked into the mattress, crying, screaming, and babbling. You were sure that the other guests of this motel could hear you from the thin walls, alongside the noisy bed creaking.
“Love how you’re taking my cock… Just look at you,” he muttered before letting out a high-pitched whimper and continuing his movements. “Feel so fucking good around me.”
His hands move down to your hips, digging his nails into your skin as he pulled you to his dick, thrusting even faster and deeper than before. Your soft whines were rhythmic, synced with each motion that his hips gave. You enjoyed the delicious sensation of him stretching you and your walls, tightening around him flawlessly. His shiny, silver necklace continued to sway above you, swinging with each rapid, harsh thrust.
You abruptly yank onto that thin chain, pulling him down to meet your lips. He moved his soft, wet lips with yours passionately and fervently, your tongue exploring his mouth, dancing with his. His thrusts never faltered as he kissed down to your jaw then to your neck, even nibbling and sucking in areas to give you hickeys.
You breathe heavily as you felt your body being flipped, Billy using his strong hands to move you onto your stomach, the side of your face being pressed onto the pillow. Then he pushed into your hole once again, one hand on your hip and the other on the top of the wooden bed frame, gripping it tight as he began to move. The bed squeaked again, its sounds mirroring the motion that took place on it. You were afraid he was going to fucking break it.
“O-oh! F-fuck! Don’t—Don’t fucking stop!” You cry desperately in between heavy breaths.
You were nearly drooling on the pillow as you moan loudly, Billy pounding you forcefully from behind, on top of you as if you were a fucking horse—he was a cowboy, alright.
“You like that? Hm? You like having my cock inside of you like this? Fucking slut…”
You began to feel his rhythm falter, his body gradually giving out with stuttered hips and abrupt, deep jerks inside you, panting and moaning heavily, his face flushed and sweaty.
“Fuck, baby, I’m close,” he groans, the erotic sound of skin slapping against skin only increasing as his nails begin to dig deeper into the bed frame, fucking into you as if you were a lifeless sex doll, practically using you. But he had respect for you, of course, feeling pleasured entirely by your body and noises.
“M-me too,” you whine, clenching onto the white bedsheets beneath you, feeling a knot in your stomach slowly begin to unravel.
Billy persisted to slam his hips vigorously against your ass, ramming his thick cock inside of you as the two of you moaned desperately, your vocals arousing each other as well.
“I-I’m—I’m gonna cum,” he mutters.
“Fuck—me too—I-I’m—”
“Fuck!” He whines.
And finally, with one last, strong thrust of his hips, he came deeply and heavily inside you, his warm, white fluids painting your walls, spurting selfishly yet generously deep inside of you. A loud, lewd moan escaped his pretty lips as his eyes shut tight, focusing on all the pleasure and release that he just received.
And not even a second later, you followed, crying out his name and cumming around his length, clutching the blankets and feeling full and filled completely with his semen.
Billy collapsed beside you, and the two of you laid there, panting heavily and catching each other’s breaths, all fucked out.
“Well, yee-haw, motherfucker,” you mumble amusedly to yourself, retrieving your pants to grab a cigarette from its pocket.
#billy burn#burn 2019#burn billy x reader#billy burn x you#billy burn x reader#burn x reader#billy burn x gn!reader#gn!reader#josh hutcherson x reader#josh hutcherson x gn!reader#josh hutcherson x you#billy burn smut#josh hutcherson smut#smut#m!reader#f!reader#nb!reader#gender neutral reader#mike schmidt#mike schmidt smut#josh futturman#josh futturman smut#clapton davis#clapton davis smut
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Shouta Aizawa x Reader "Room for one more" PLATONIC
Tw for runaway/kicked out, abuse and sh(sorta)
Quirk: garden: allows you to manipulate and grow plants
Request are open
You had attended UA high for some time now and had made it into class 1-A you were lucky to be there considering how against your parents were. However the only reason you are able to attend was under the Principal Nezu's offer to have the school assist money wise. Your parents hated heroes and the idea of their kid being one disgusted them. You made it a point to mention as little school at home to avoid confrontation. But being that you enrolled late you had some paperwork to do.
You had asked for more time to get it filled out as it seemed impossible to talk to your parents together about the matter. However this was already 3 months into the school year, and you could tell both Aizawa and Nezu were tired of your excuses.
Aizawa made an effort early in the year to show as little care as possible to his students, and this was further proven by how strict he was and how careless he seemed to act towards all of 1-A. This was quickly disproven when he seemed to sacrifice himself for the class as a whole.
That being said you were the only enrolled student without everything completed, so he made it clear he'd have you removed from the class.
When you got home your mom was at work and your father seemed to be in a good mood so you pulled out the paper work from you bag and sat at the table with your dad.
"Can you um.. help me fill these out please dad. It has a bunch of questions about family health history and I also need your signature on some."
"Why? I thought you'd be smart enough to do this shit since you seem to be too good for this family we've done enough just allowing you to go to that god forsaken school."
After some back and forth it seemed to escalate and it only worsened once your mother got home. It went from paperwork to how horrible of a child you were.
"Sense you are too good for this family maybe you should just leave. "
Everything seemed to go downhill from there. You tried to reason with her and convince her to just let you say but it only seemed to make her want you in the house even less. Finally you tried to reason with them one more time ultimately getting yourself a hit to the face from your dad. Ending with him giving you till the end of the night to leave the house.
What were you even supposed to do? You had a bag with a few clothes and not much money. Most of your extended family lived on the opposite side of Japan so there was no way you could get there nor stay there for more than a few days.
There was absolutely no way in hell you could tell any of your UA friends you parents just kicked you out over hero school paper work. So you had little to no options.
A few hours passed and you were out wandering the streets and you decided it'd be best to just go back to the school and find somewhere to crash for the night. Halfway to the school it started raining and it was well past midnight and you still had nowhere to go. You sat in a nearby coffee shop soaked and used some of the money left on your card. You scrolled through your phone trying to think of someone to call when your eyes landed on your homeroom teacher's number. It was a bad idea right?
He probably wouldn't answer anyways, but what other choice did you have? The phone rang 3 times and just as you were about to give up the line picked up
It's 2 in the morning you better be dying or calling on accident kid.
No unfortunately, I um- do you - um..
Spit it out kid I'm tired and UA doesn't pay me nearly enough
Yeah no sorry um.. is the school open?
No why the hell would it be open. Why are you even calling?
Um..
You feel a knot in your throat and your mind went completely blank
Are you okay kid? Where the hell are you
Um a coffee show a few blocks from the school. I- don't -
You can feel breaking down completely on the phone and your brain forming incoherent sentences.
Just stay there. Don't move. I'll be there in like.. 8 minutes.
After some time past Aizawa showed up and the first few minutes were just him trying to get you to calm down without saying anything that could possibly make you shut down completely. After you were completely calm and got you in the car.
If you tell me why you're out at 2am and what the hell and who the hell happened to your face. . I'll let you sleep on the couch.
You placed your hands on your lap and summoned small vines with thorns around your hands and then they all disappeared and you could feel Aizawa looking at you canceling it out. "None of that. Okay? Just talk about it. Please kid, you gotta give me something to work with before I let you crash on my couch"
You looked over at him pulled out the blank paper work "They don't like heros. They only let me go because. . Nezu offered to pay for most of it. I asked for them to help and.. it all escalated so quickly. Next thing I knew : hit to the face from my dad and my mom telling me to get out."
He looked to you with a feeling you couldn't quite understand, was it anger? Was he angry at you for this, your mind began to race and you felt yourself closing off again and feel your chest pound.
"you'll stay at my apartment, for now at least. You won't be going back home for a while"
As you went to protest the idea he shut it down quickly saying it was no trouble and reassuring you on the matter as a whole.
Sorry I haven't been posting I'm busy and stressed
#aizawa shouta#bnha x reader#mha x reader#mha x reader comfort#x reader#fanfiction#gender neutral reader#bnha comfort#comfort#mha fanfiction#spotify#aizawa x you#aizawa x reader#aizawa comfort#aizawa shōta#mha aizawa#bnha aizawa
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<<Sick in the head>>
cw: bdsm, degrading, violence, mentions of death, rough sex, both oral and vaginal, reader is a female, humiliation, autassassinophilia, dacryphillia, sliiiightest praise kink.
You woke up in the middle of the night due to incoherent mumbling and chanting disturbing your sleep. Groaning, you rub your eyes and yawn before standing up and out of your bed, it was only your second day living with the League of villains and you're already having trouble sleeping.
Slowly, you walk out of your room, hesitantly stepping closer and closer to where all the mumbling came from, leading you to Shigaraki's lair. "All these good for nothing heroes, all these pathetic losers thinking they're better than us in so many ways..! They make me so mad I sometimes think of unraveling and destroying everything around me..." Shigaraki's prominent voice is heard, raspy whispers coming out in shaky chuckles and manic laughing.
You stand there in silence, listening to all his nonsense babbling and feeling remorse for him. It was stupid, the last thing Shigaraki would ever want is people feeling pity for him, yet you couldn't help but feel a little bad for the villain. Sighing, you turn to leave, but stop all together when a particular plank you step on makes a high pitched, squeaky noise.
You hold still, holding your breath as you beg for Tomura not to have heard you, your heart pumping faster then ever before, adrenaline rushing through your body. How would you ever explain your presence near his door in the middle of the night to him? Hell, he would probably not even give you a chance at explaining yourself if he found out you've heard him talking to himself in such an intimate moment.
Shigaraki turns his head abruptly to where the noise came from, slowly moving to fiddle with the door handle as if to unlock it. "Who's there?" His voice resonates through the thin walls, his other hand coming up to his neck as he's started to feel frustrated, scratching at the dry skin relentlessly as he grunts quietly. Nevertheless, he already has a pretty good idea on who it could be behind the door due to the familiar presence lingering in the air.
"Shit..." you curse under your breath, wanting to slap yourself for your own stupidity before sighing and accepting your fate. "It's me, I'm sorry if I had bothered you in any way, I'll leave you be. Sorry again, boss." You muttered, trying to make your way out of the situation and escape without any damage. Clearly it wasn't going to be that easy, was it?
"No you fucking won't" He snaps as he opens the door, revealing his hunched figure and his clearly disturbed face expression, red eyes staring you up and down. He moves slightly to the side, as if leaving room for you to enter. "You've come for a reason, haven't you? You've got at least some sort of brain inside your head, haven't you?? I'm sure you had a good, undeniable reason to make your presence known at 3 AM in the morning, right?" He urges you on, a cynic smile making it's way on his chapped lips, grin so wide it already made you feel uneasy.
You gulped, feeling your knees grow weak as you decide not to push his limits any further, stepping inside the room and letting him close the door behind you. Your eyes widen as you hear the lock click twice, signaling that Shigaraki's locked the door, meaning you wouldn't be able to leave this room willingly anytime soon. Another anxious thought washes over you, overlapping your previous worry by fear as he walks in front of you, one of his fingers pointing at a chair, a silent order for you to sit down.
You oblige immediately, wobbly feet carrying you to the chair as you take your place in it, hands placing themselves on your knees as your gaze fixates on the floor, unable and not wanting to meet his piercing gaze for now. It doesn't stop you from hearing his infuriated voice as he gets closer to you.
"Say now.. what could be so important that it was worth disturbing my peace in the middle of the night?" He asks sternly, red eyes staring down at your smaller figure and intimidating you without any additional effort. You ought not to speak, can't speak as a knot ties itself up in your throat, lips pressing themselves together as you can practically feel his gaze devouring you whole.
As moments of silence pass by, Shigaraki loses his patience, a stinging and sudden pain inflicting on your cheek and snapping you out of your trance as you're forced to meet his eyes, his two fingers slapping your cheek harshly as you gasp due to the pain and shock you're experiencing. "I told you to speak!" He groans, shaking his hand slightly as he's felt the slap himself. "Useless waste of oxygen, making me lose my precious time with things like this..."
You bring up a hand to cover up your already forming bruise, parted lips and widened eyes staring up at him as you felt a tear slip down your cheek. "I've just..." you don't get to finish your sentence as another slap of his fingers land on your other cheek, small chuckles leaving his mouth breathily.
"You've just.. you've just..." He mocks in your own tone, grabbing your chin forcefully and bringing your face upwards, so close to his own face that you can feel his ragged breath on your skin. "You're just too dumb to think, aren't you? Not able to think of anything at all with that worthless mind of yours, ain't I right? Huh? Speak!" He spits out, gritted teeth building up another grin as he awaits your next words.
Your cheeks burn, not only from the pain he's lingered on you, but from shame and embarrassment too, ashamed of yourself for feeling... aroused at the moment of humiliation you were involved in. You feel wetness sip down into your panties, forming a visible patch on them and you're even more worried now as you think of the possibility of leaving a wet spot on the cushion chair you're sat in.
"Mhmm.." you mumbled, nodding at his accusations as your lower lip wobbled softly, sobbing quietly as your teary eyes stared up into his, nipples hardening under the thin fabric of your top at the sight of him, at the danger of his almost whole hand grasping at your chin.
Surprisingly for him, you don't even try to fight back, you're not even struggling against his grip as he strengthens it up, practically pinching your skin now. He laughs suddenly, eyes not breaking contact with yours as he pulled your face closer to his "Whats that..? It seems you're enjoying this whole act, aren't you, whore?" He leans down to whisper in your ear "Do you like this? Is your pussy begging to be filled? Is it why you've come to my door in the middle of the night, hm? To beg for cock?..." One of his hands slides down to your tits, thumb grazing over your already hardened nipple as you bite back a moan once he tightly tugs on it.
"Please.." you beg, biting down your lip to quiet down your sounds at the pressure he was applying to your chest, pressing your thighs together in a desperate attempt to relief down your arousal.
You've always found Tomura attractive, you were sure everyone in the league noticed your gaze lingering on him for a little too long during any encounters with the heroes. You've just never thought about the possibility of him noticing you. With the way he was always focused on his only goal in life, with the way he never cared for anything else in the world, you had no hopes for actually finding yourself in such a heated situation with him.
"Now you're begging? Ha..! Filthy whore, nasty, dirty slut... What're you even begging for, do you know?" He mutters, grinning down at you as his fingers trail back up to your neck, not quite closing around it before you felt his teeth graze and scratch over the lobe of your ear. You whimper, shaking softly as you feel the way his fingers begin to close around your jugular "You of all the people should be aware of my quirk..." you feel his lips curl up in a gruesome smirk "what is it that you want? I'm one finger away from killing you right now... s'that what you're so prettily pleading for?"
Tears flood down your face, straight up crying now yet you can't help it with the fear you're experiencing, can't help it with the way it feels just too wrong to feel so aroused by this. "..I want your cock..." you finally speak up, bold words and demand hesitantly leaving your mouth.
The room is silent for a good second as Tomura releases the strong hold on your neck, his hand now moving upwards to hold your chin roughly in place, thumb grazing over your lower lip harshly. "...You're sick in the head" he laughs before pushing his finger past your lips, circling around your tongue. "Crazy slut begging for my cock"
You sob, making his cock twitch relentlessly within his tight jeans with the way you start lewdly sucking on his thumb, gagging softly when he pushes a little too deep into your mouth. "I bet you're dirtying the whole chair underneath you with your filthy cunt, huh?" He chuckles, withdrawing his finger suddenly and landing another slap on your face before stepping away from you to admire your state.
Hands obediently placed on your knees that don't seem to stop shaking, your own spit smeared all over your chin, mixed in with salty tears that fall down on your boobs, smearing down all the way to your hard nipples and soaking the fabric of your top up, making it cling to your skin and revealing all of you shamelessly.
Shigaraki walks back to you, gripping your arm tightly and putting you on your feet as you yelp at the unexpected move, letting him carry you over to his desk as he threw you on top of it, bumping one of his knees between your thighs, forcing them wide apart before grabbing full hands of your lower clothing, decaying your panties along with it and licking his dry lips at the sight of your pussy.
He sneers down at you, trapping one of your legs between his own thighs as he presses down on the plush of your skin, grunting out at the little yet delicious feeling of his hard cock rutting against you. He swiftly moves one of his hands between your thighs now, wasting no time in sticking one of his thick fingers up your pussy, without warning nor preparation.
"Ah!" You yelp out at the painful intrusion, biting back tears and whimpers. You sling one arm over your eyes and are quickly stopped from doing so by his strong hand keeping it in place and above your head.
"You wanted it, remember? Acting as if you weren't a needy whore bare minutes before this." He mutters through gritted teeth, plunging another finger deep into your cunt as he's started pulling in and out of it, leaving you no room for rest as you gasped for air, fingers trying to clutch at the hard wooden desk for at least some kind of grounding.
Despite the burning feeling, you push your hips down and into his fingers, relishing in the way you could feel him so close to you, moaning out loudly as soon as his thumb pressed down your clit, your heartbeat increasing at the way he's started straight up humping your thigh now.
"O-ohh..! Please, I need your cock, it's not enough...!" You whine out, body squirming on his desk in a desperate attempt to get him to fuck you. Instead, you feel his hand resume his place on your neck, squeezing tightly and restricting your access to air as you see him stare up at you with the corner of your eye, noticing the sudden shift in demeanor. He's angry, annoyed at you.
"Oh won't you shut up already?" He snarls, fingers getting rougher and faster inside of your pussy. "Your whining and babbling is getting so annoying it's hard for me not to stand up and kick you out of here, unsatisfied, with your slutty cunt empty. Is that what you're trying to reach by crying like that?" He mutters, groaning from time to time whenever the fabric of his boxers grazed over a particular sensitive spot on the underside of his tip.
You rapidly shake your head, clearly alarmed by the thought of that, yet you clench down on his fingers at the harshness of his words. "Please please please no, I'll be good, just plea-" you gasp in pain as he squeezes down hard onto the meat of your pussy, almost tearing up the inside of your walls as you feel tears prickle at your eyes again.
"I told you to shut the fuck up, don't you get it?" Shigaraki repeats from within greeted teeth, making you fall completely silent now, only moans of pleasure now heard from you as he continues rutting against your thigh, eagerly fingering you. "Shit... fuck, you're so fucking wet, almost like you've gotten even more turned on by this, huh?" He stands up, withdrawing his fingers as you whimper in the emptiness he's left you in "Hush, I'm only getting ready to stuff you full of cock, be patient."
You nod in excitement as you hesitantly support your weight on your elbows, looking at him and admiring the sight in front of you as he unbuckles his belt, pulling out his reddened cock and pumping it hurriedly, throwing his head back and moaning as he focuses on his leaking, big tip. His shaft is even bigger, girthier, thicker, you notice, pretty v-line at his hips only making the sight even more desirable.
His head shots back to meet your gaze "ha.. hah..." He chuckles breathily, gripping at the base tightly as if letting you examine it standing hard. "You like it, bitch? What d'ya think, huh?" His manic red eyes question you, urging you on and adding to the heat in your lower belly.
You gulp down your want for him, nodding repeatedly "Y-yes, I need it so bad, Tomura, please.." you beg, eyes not leaving his as you feel your cunt ooze with arousal, closing around nothing when he approaches you, his hands gripping at your thighs from each side as he effortlessly rotates your body on the desk, leaving your head hanging off the edge and facing his dick.
"Then take it, sweetheart... it's all yours to worship, come on, open up" He grins as he taps his cockhead over your lips, smearing his precum all over your face before sliding it past and into your mouth, groaning, his voice blissful to your ears as you open your mouth wide open, the unusual petname he's whispered to you making your body shiver.
Both of his hands grip at your neck, holding you in place as he's started pounding into your throat, making you gag at his size and smell, yet feeling even more soaked than before. "That's it... good whore, doing a great job there" He praises, pressing down on your throat to make it tighter around his cock, moaning shamelessly while drooling slightly, small drops of his spit falling down on your chin, making you whimper around him.
His hips halter, uneven pace forceful and merciless as Shigaraki fucks your mouth and suddenly you're choking on his dick, throat fluttering tightly around it as he presses his hips flush against your mouth, balls resting against your nose and restricting your only source of fresh air.
You panic, shaking your head as one of your hands pushes against his pelvis, trying oh so desperately to get him off you so that you wouldn't suffocate to death on his cock. All you get in return is another sinister chuckle of his, pushing even deeper into your face "Ahh... fuck.. keep still, cunt" He orders, eyes rolling back into his head while his shaft throbs within your mouth.
You almost feel like passing out when he finally pulls away after another long moment, a long, thick trail of your spit hanging from his cockhead, smearing all over your tear stained face as you gasp for air, coughing up gobbles of drool, not seeming to get enough air as you heave uncontrollably under him.
Tomura clicks his tongue, watching you writhe while stroking his cock in long pumps "Stop being dramatic, I went way too easy on you.." He mumbles coldly, shaking off the spit off his dick and letting it fall down on the floor. "Fucking nasty, could you have gotten any messier than this?"
He yanks on your hair sharply, snapping you out of your attempt to calm down "What's wrong, hun? Already spent out?" He teases, eyes fixated on yours "I haven't cum yet, it's not fair to leave your boss with blue balls now, is it?"
You shudder, the burning pain on your scalp making you whimper softly and you can't lie to him when he's so close to you, can't lie about still wanting to be fucked by him. "M'not spent out.." you cough out, yet your state says otherwise, eyes blurred over and tears along with sticky precum smeared around your whole face. "...want your cock, please" you whisper, pouting softly and begging for him to fill you up once again.
You don't expect it, ready and prepared for anything but his lips pressing with weird softness on yours, the intimate and vulnerable moment ending way too quickly for your liking as he picks you up from the desk, hurriedly carrying you over to his bed.
You're placed on all your fours, Shigaraki getting on his knees behind you as his cockhead pokes at your entrance, dragging up and down your slit. You moan, face falling down into his sheets, his smell lingering on them as your hands curl up into them, grabbing tightly as you push your hips back into his with eagerness "fuck.. please, Tomura, just please fuck me.." your voice cracks down, chin shivering as you feel like crying again from how much you desired him.
"Hey, easy... easy, slutty baby" He whispers, smirking down at your ruined form as his body hunches over yours, lips barely touching your ear as he whispers into it "Don't worry, I'll fuck out every last bit of self consciousness out of your dumb little brain by morning" he promises, laughing breathily as he presses his dick into you, sliding in so easily due to how wet you were, resulting into you immediately letting out a gasp of pleasure and clutching down harder on the sheets underneath you.
Finally you feel it, the ecstasy of having him inside of you, pressing up against all of the right places as you can't help but moan continously with each snap of his hips against your ass. It all feels surreal, and for a moment you regret not having him fuck you earlier as you're so tired out that you almost see stars, present seemingly slowing down while Shigaraki fucks you raw.
You're a sight for sore eyes from Tomura's perspective, unfocused gaze and lulled out tongue as moans after moans fill the room, his hips not stopping even for a second as he watches your ass jiggle with each of his movements. "Holy fu-uuck..!" He heaves, not expecting to feel this heavenly nestled inside of you, balls slapping against your clit.
You don't hear him, not able to hear anything beside the slapping skin sound as you're drowning in a puddle of your own saliva, arousal and, mostly, undeniable pleasure. You can feel his nails digging deep into the flesh of your meaty thighs, whining like a bitch in heat at how much pleasure you were receiving.
"You're sucking me in so tightly, hah.. wouldn't be able to pull out even if I wanted to, your hole's drawing me right back in" He laughs, tilting his head in bliss and resting it against his shoulders while he watches his cock slide in and out of your cunt, covered in a thick layer of sheer, slick wetness.
He's high striked in his own cloud of pleasure right now, almost feeling like he's a virgin all over again, cursing under his breath whenever you clenched down on him, so tight he had to hold back from cumming a couple of times.
His body curls down on yours, mouth greedily attaching to your nape, tongue licking all over your sweaty skin as he bites down on your skin, rutting into you desperately, fucking you in an almost animalistic way. You don't react at the burning pain, only moaning dumbly as you feel your orgasm approaching.
With another deep thrust of his hips pressing flush against you, you whine out, cumming on his cock the next second while your fingernails tear through his bed sheets, biting down on them as you tiredly fuck your hips back up into his, body exhausted and drenched out from each and every last drop of strength within it.
You want to scream out at the overstimulating pleasure as soon as you feel him pulling out of you slowly, pressing right back into your cunt as soon as you've come down from your high, yet all you're capable of is small, helpless whimpers, too weak and dizzy to be able of more than that.
"Fuck.." you faintly hear Shigaraki curse above you, his moans way easier to catch with the way he's becoming quite loud himself "I'm about to cum..." He stutters against the back of your neck, hot, ragged breathing tickling your skin.
Using all the will inside of you, your head lifts up the slightest to take in the sight of his face distorting in bliss, biting your lip when he abruptly pulls out of you, stroking his shaft desperately a few more times and letting his hips fuck faster into his hand before his movements come to a stop, white cum messily landing on your lower back as he heaves and pants, stuffing his tip right back into your pussy on his last shot of cum and filling you up sweetly and you smile at the warmth it spreads within your body, happily falling back down onto his bed and closing your eyes with a soft sigh.
Shigaraki breathes out heavily, dry lips parted the slightest as he admires you laying under him, covered and filled up with his cum and it almost makes him hard all over again. He reaches down, finger pushing a strand of hair out of your sticky face, tapping your cheek sternly "Hey" he calls out and your eyes open up briefly, meeting his gaze "You're mine now..." He mutters, and you realize he's serious now by the deadly stare he sends you, rubbing sweat off his forehead before standing up and leaving you rest off in his bed as you hear the door handle click and heavy footsteps exit the door.
You feel both flattered and alarmed by his last words, yet you decide not to give it much thought and instead, you indulge in the now familiar smell of his lingering on the fabric underneath your fingers, nuzzling into it as you drift off to sleep. Little did you know that he meant those words, dead ass serious and that you could now say good bye to any guy who isn't him, because Tomura hates his things being touched by others, after all, they're his for a reason.
#x reader#shigaraki tomura#tomura shiragaki#tomura x reader#mha tomura#bnha tomura#smut#bnha smut#tenko shimura#shigaraki x reader#shigaraki smut
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Caught
Panic came over Fiona when she awoke that morning, finding herself in a bedroom that was not her own. Slivers of sunlight streamed in between the closed curtains, the sounds of soft breathing beside her made her instantly remember last night’s events.
“Fuck,” she said quietly. “Fuck. Colin, get up.” He stirred somewhat, mumbling incoherently. She shoved him. “Get up!”
“The fuck do you want?” He groaned, rubbing at his eyes.
“It’s morning, you fucking idiot,” she whispered furiously.
He held her thigh, still looking sleepy. “Calm down.”
“Oh, yeah. That’s what every woman wants to hear,” she snarked.
“Everyone’s probably still asleep,” Colin said, ignoring that. “Just go out the front door.”
“And if they’re not?”
“I don’t fucking know,” Colin shrugged. “It’s too damn early to think right now.”
She rolled her eyes. Sliding out of bed, she pulled her underwear and bra on, staying as quiet as she possibly could.
“You looked better without them on,” came Colin’s smart ass remark as she looked around for her shirt.
“One more remark like that and you’ll never see my tits again,” she said, to which he held his hands up, smirking. “Now where the hell’s my shirt?”
“Hey, hey,” Colin waved a hand to get her attention, then pointed at his dresser. “Over there.”
She turned, eyebrows furrowing, spotting it laying atop the dresser. “I didn’t put this here.”
“I did,” he said, the blanket falling down to his abdomen, “when I got up to piss.”
She narrowed her eyes. “And what time was that?”
He shrugged. “Four or whatever. I don’t know.”
“And you didn’t wake me?” She said, incredulous.
“You seemed like you needed it.” A grin spread over his face. “Plus, you get kinda bitchy when you’re tired.”
She rolled her eyes, pulling the shirt over her head. “Fuck you.”
They had this thing going on for a while now. A thing that neither one of them brought up to properly define. It was more fucking, for sure, but they were both wary after so many shitty attempts at relationships. Best to just take it slow and see where it took them.
“You did plenty of that last night,” Colin said smoothly. She paused, taking in the hickeys she’d left along his bare shoulder.
“Shit,” she said with a slight laugh. “Sorry about that.”
“You hear me complainin’?” Colin’s gaze slid over her body appreciatively. And it didn’t feel like the way those sleazy guys at work did. Come to think of it, nothing with Colin ever resembled any of the guys she’d been with before. Fuck, is she actually fallin’ for a Milkovich? “You got work today?”
“Not ‘till later,” she replied, buttoning her jeans. “Why?”
He didn’t respond right away, making her look up. It might just be a trick of the light, but Fiona thought he might actually be blushing.
“It’s fucking stupid,” he said. “Never mind.”
“No, what is it?” she said curiously.
Colin rubbed the side of his nose, reminding her of the way she’d seen Mickey rub his eyebrow in the few instances they were in each other’s presence. Must have been a Milkovich thing. “If you were hungry,” he said, trying to come off as indifferent, “I know this cheap diner we could go to.”
Her eyebrows flew up. “You’re askin’ me out to breakfast?”
The question made him uncomfortable. “You said you wanted more than just fucking.”
“Yeah,” she said, surprising herself with how much she did want it, “yeah. I did.”
“Is that a yes, then?” Colin asked. She saw beneath his exterior that she was actually hopeful, and that just wasn’t something she was used to seeing on a Milkovich.
She toyed with her hair, making it look a bit more presentable and less disheveled. “Look, I would if I had the money. But I’ve got the electric to think about it-”
“Don’t worry about it,” Colin cut her off. “I got enough for both of us.”
“I can’t ask you to do that,” she shook her head.
“You didn’t ask. I’m offering,” he sat up now, the blanket pooling in his lap. “And if you really want to pay me back, then you can always give me a blow job-”
He broke out into soft laughter when she gave him an unamused look.
“You’re a jackass.”
“I’m kidding,” he assured her, still chuckling. “But I wasn’t kidding about paying. You can pay next time if you want.”
“You’re already thinking about a next time, huh?” Fiona smiled, despite that nagging twinge telling her to reconsider. Sue her. She fuckin’ liked him. “Alright. Fine, you can pay. But this place better have good coffee.”
He grinned. It was a damn good smile too. She briefly wished he did it more often.
“I don’t know what I’m supposed to tell the kids, though,” she said thoughtfully. They’ll be awake soon enough and notice that she’s not there.
“Nothing if you move fast enough,” Colin swung his legs over the edge of the bed, reaching for the pair of shorts closests to him. Her eyes were drawn to his bare upper half, watching the muscles in his back flex as he bent down to find a t-shirt to throw on.
“You’re a fucking creep, Gallagher,” came Colin’s teasing voice, snapping her out of her thoughts.
Fuck, she was busted.
“I saw you staring,” Colin was looking at her again, smirking. “You like what you see?”
“There’s not much to see,” she replied, going that route instead of acknowledging that his question had made her face feel unusually warm.
“That what you’re going with, Sweetheart?” Colin stood to his full height, pushing the curtains open.
“Don’t call me that,” Fiona rolled her eyes. She was going to start walking out but Colin had other ideas; he wrapped a strong arm around her waist, gently pulling her back. Her hair was pushed out of the way, giving him access to her neck. She pressed her lips together, fighting the urge to squirm. Fuck, he knew just where to go. “Hey, if you want to have breakfast, I’ll have go home and freshen up.”
“Hang on,” he mumbled in between kisses.
“I swear to God if you give me a fucking hickey, Milkovich, I’ll rip your dick off.”
“That’s kinda turning me on, not gonna lie...”
“Oh my God,” she muttered, and he huffed out a laugh. She lightly shoved him away. “I’m gettin’ out of here before your brothers or Mandy wake up.”
“They won’t be up this early, trust me.”
The two of them crept out of Colin's room. The rest of the house was silent, much to Fiona’s relief. She didn’t need anyone seeing them. The last thing she wanted to do was explain what all this was between them.
“I still can’t believe we fucked while they were home,” she mumbled.
“They probably just think you’re some whore I brought home,” he said with a shrug, to which she scoffed.
“Thanks.”
“Hey, I didn’t call you the whore,” Colin said, keeping his voice down. She snorted. “Okay, looks like they’re all sleeping. Just head out and we’ll meet back up in twenty.”
Fiona saw something in her peripheral that made her freeze. She whirled around, figuring it to be one of Colin’s brothers, only to gawk.
“Ian?”
Her brother froze too, staring at them with wide eyes. “Fiona?” He squeaked out, voice noticeably a higher pitch.
She couldn’t help but notice his rumpled clothing and the messy hair. “What the fuck? What are you doing here?”
Ian looked a little panicked. “What are you doing here?” He yelped.
“Did you come from Mandy's room?” Colin demanded, butting into the conversation, his protective instincts coming out.
“N-no!”
“I swear to God if you were fucking my baby sister-” Colin hissed.
“I wasn’t!”
“Okay, okay,” Fiona put a hand on his chest to calm him. Ian gawked at this momentarily, but was a little more focused on not getting murdered.“Don’t fucking touch him.”
“I wasn’t with Mandy,” Ian said hurriedly. “I swear I wasn’t!”
“Then why the fuck are you here?”
“Colin,” Fiona snapped. “Calm the fuck down. Jesus.”
“Fi-” Colin started with a sigh.
“If you touch him, Colin, I swear to God-”
“Alright, alright! I won’t touch him. He still owes me an explanation.”
“And you’ll get it,” Fiona said, looking at Ian expectantly.
“Um, well-” Ian said weakly.
“Goddamn it, Gallagher, what’s all the noise about? Did you wake my brother up?” A new voice complained, and out came Mickey from his room, stopping dead in his tracks when he saw all of them standing there. “Fuck...”
Ian shut his eyes, one hand covering his face.
It didn’t take Colin long to connect the dots. “Holy shit,” he said in disbelief.
Fiona was just as shocked. This was not what she expected to happen this morning. Although, she couldn’t help but notice the way Mickey stiffened up when his eyes landed on his brother. Not a surprise, given the Milkovich’s asshole of a father.
“You’re a fag, Mick?” Colin said, completely caught off guard. “Since when?”
She whacked him hard for that one. “Hey,” she said sharply.
Colin gave her a look in return. “What? I don’t give a shit. I’m just askin’.”
Ian tried to do damage control, which she suspected was to save face for Mickey, and blurted out, “I-I was just returning something to Mickey. I, uh, borrowed it from him and I thought I should bring it back before he punches me or something.”
Colin snorted. Mickey looked like he was seconds away from actually punching him right then and there.
“Do you think we’re fucking stupid?” The second oldest Milkovich said to no one in particular. Then, he asked staright up: “Gallagher, are you fucking my brother?”
“No. I mean yes but-” Ian faltered, trying to come up with the right words. He looked at Mickey, and their silent communication lasted for several moments. Taking a deep breath, he finally said, “Me and Mickey aren’t just fucking. He’s my boyfriend.”
Fiona felt like her mind was blown. Jesus. “How long has this been going on?”
“A couple of months,” Mickey answered cautiously. He was still glancing at Colin.
“Seriously?” Fiona didn’t know how she’d missed this. Wouldn’t she have known if Ian was sneaking off?
“Hold the fuck on then,” Colin said suddenly, “I thought you and Mandy were dating? That’s what she told us.”
“It’s fake,” Ian said quickly. “She offered to pretend to be my girlfriend at school. I keep the creepy guys away and no one suspects I’m gay.”
Colin rubbed his face tiredly. “Jesus. It’s too fucking early for all of this.”
Fiona definitely agreed.
There was silence for a couple of seconds. Ian’s eyes darted from her to Colin. “Are you guys together too?”
Mickey looked interested in hearing the answer as well.
“We’re-” Fiona didn’t know how to explain it. What were they? They weren’t just fuck buddies. They were both interested in taking this further, but at the moment? She didn’t know what they were.
“Yeah,” Colin took the reins and said. He placed his hand on her lower back. Fiona unconsciously leaned into his touch.
“I stayed here last night,” she admitted.
“That’s probably why we heard all the thuds,” Mickey said to Ian, casually. Fiona was mortified. Ian just grimaced.
“Jesus, Mick. Don’t say things like that.”
“Did I offend your delicate sensibilities, Gallagher?”
Ian, seemingly forgetting who he was in front of, just grinned. “Didn’t think I was so delicate last night.”
“Okay, no,” Fiona said loudly. “You’re not going to do that in front of me. You two can fuck or be boyfriends and shit all you want, but I don’t need to know anything about my brother’s sex life.”
Ian flushed, ducking his head.
“Me either,” Colin added.
“Sorry,” Ian offered an apology, and she rolled her eyes fondly.
Her brother seemed alright, if just a bit surprised that they were both dating Milkovich’s. But Fiona had been studying Mickey for a couple of minutes now and he seemed close to fleeing or shitting his pants. It reminded her a little of when Ian came out; he’d been nervous too. She could only imagine how he must be feeling right now.
But even in the midst of this, she saw Mickey’s eyes glancing her brother’s way, his face softening and for a moment, he wasn’t one of South Side’s notorious thugs, but just a kid that was clearly in love.
“We should probably head out,” Fiona said, referencing to herself and Ian. “Come on.”
Colin spoke up, “Are we still on?”
She turned, a smile lighting up her face. “We’re still on.”
“On for what?” Ian said curiously.
“More fucking, probably,” Mickey shrugged.
“Fuck off,” Colin swatted him upside the head. “It ain’t like that, dickhead. We’re going out.”
“Your brother’s secretly a gentleman,” Fiona told Mickey, who scoffed.
“Since fucking when?”
“Keep talkin’, fuck head. You did plenty of shit as a kid that I’ll gladly tell Gallagher,” Colin threatened. Mickey, much to her amusement, blanched a little.
“Technically we’re both Gallaghers,” Ian pointed out.
“You know damn well what I meant, Red.”
“Come on,” Fiona smirked, a hand on her brother’s shoulder. “Let’s get back before the others wake up. I don’t need Carl blowing up the house.”
Ian nodded, his gaze settling on Mickey. “Bye Mickey,” he said shyly. “You should stop by Kash and Grab later. You know, if you want to.”
“Yeah, sure. Whatever,” Mickey said like he didn’t care.
Colin snorted. “Some relationship you’ve got there.”
“Shut the fuck up.”
Fiona made a bold move of taking Colin by the hand, pulling him towards the door. “You can go on,” she told Ian, who didn’t need to be told twice, so now it was only three of them. “Bye Mickey,” she called.
Mickey grunted, and went back to his room, slamming the door shut.
“Make sure you talk to him,” Fiona said, realizing that she was still holding onto his hand.
“About what?” Colin said, slightly confused.
“About him being gay,” Fiona said carefully.
“Why the fuck do we have to talk about it? I don’t care where he sticks his dick.”
“That’s not the point,” Fiona sighed. “We both know how Terry is. He needs to know you aren’t going to kick his ass over it.”
Colin met her eyes. He nodded, understanding now. “Okay. I’ll talk to him.”
“Make sure he’s okay,” she added. “And don’t pressure him to tell Iggy or Mandy. It’s his choice.”
“I know that,” he said, looking serious. “I’d never do that to him.”
“Good,” Fiona glanced down at their still conjoined hands, and let go. “See you in twenty?”
“See ya, Gallagher.”
Fiona walked back home with a grin on her face. Unlike the other guys in her past, she had a good feeling about Colin Milkovich.
#shameless#gallavich#mickey milkovich#ian gallagher#colin milkovich#fiona gallagher#shameless fanfiction
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how would vox and the other vees react to his teenage daughter getting piercing and tattoos without them knowing?
Hi friend,
I like to think that Vox has better control of his emotions than Val- take a peek at what I came up with!
<3 Mandy
Vox could think of at least sixteen ways to handle the situation with an instantaneous result. Killing the person who dared to put a needle to the skin of his underaged daughter for one. An all girls boarding school, set in the furthest ring of hell. At minimum, screaming and yelling with he promise of infinite grounding would at least get his anger and disappointment out in the open.
When Velette called him down to her studio, he expected to be handed a file or six. Or more likely, be bitched at for some reason beyond his control. But when Velvette greeted him with little more than a command to follow her, and led him towards her office, he knew it was something much more pressing. Outside the door, Velvette paused.
“You can’t get mad, Vox,” she told him quietly. “You can’t. We need to handle it so she comes to us again. Got it? Promise me.”
“Uh, alright. I promise?” Vox replied.
“Good. Now take a breath and keep that promise,” Velvette said as she pushed the door open.
Inside, his daughter sat on top of Velvette’s desk. Wrapped loosely in a cotton robe and surrounded by tissues, Vox felt his heart drop.
“Baby? Baby, what’s wrong?” He asked as he rushed towards her. He cupped her chin and tilted her head up to face him. “Talk to Daddy.”
To his surprise, she shook her head vehemently.
“You need to show your Dad, so we can get you to a doctor,” Velvette said gently. “Come on, he won’t be mad. Promise.”
She looked to him and to his surprise, his usually feisty teenage daughter had an expression that begged for confirmation of her words. In the back of his mind, worry began to form. A heartbeat of silence. A sharp elbow from Velvette and he winced.
“That’s right, Reader,” he said finally. “I promise I won’t be mad.”
With hesitation, Vox watched as Reader slowly turned away from him as she lowered her robe. Vox bit back as gasp at the sight of red inflamed skin sprawled across her lower back. Black lines rose to form an incoherent pattern and here and there he could barely make out parts of a word. Several words, perhaps. The broken up image of a butterfly.
He felt his temper flare and Velvette’s hand tight against his shoulder. He took a deep breath and tried his best to keep his voice steady.
“What happened?”
“I, my friends and I were at the mall and we decided to get matching tattoos,” she mumbled in response.
“Where? How? You’re not old enough to get a tattoo, or a piercing without parental consent,” Vox said as he carefully examined her back.
“Some guy in the back of the mall. He did my cartilage too,” Reader muttered as she lifted up her hair to reveal swollen, black and blue skin. “It’s all…it hurts, I’m sorry Daddy.”
Vox couldn’t believe his daughter had done something so egregiously stupid. Gingerly, she pulled the robe over her back and turned to face him.
“Daddy? I…”
“First things first. Let’s get you down to Val’s studio and have the doctor on staff take a look. You’re probably going to need a round or two of IV antibiotics and then we can go from there.” Vox said as calmly as he could. “We can talk about the rest later. For now, let's get you taken care of.”
Vox watched as his daughter broke down into tears. Instinctually, he reached out and wrapped her in his arms.
“I know it hurts, baby, but we’ll get you some antibiotics. And probably a pain killer and you’ll feel much better,” he said as he held her. “Shush, sweetheart. Daddy will take care of you.”
“She’s not just crying from pain, Vox,” Velvette said softly. “She’s afraid. Of disappointing you.”
Vox swallowed and carefully kissed the top of her head. “Honey, you know I love you. That won’t ever change, I promise.” He paused, “I know you’re too old to be carried, but if it hurts too much to walk.”
To his surprise, his teenager leaned into him. As carefully as he could, he lifted her up into his arms.
“Don’t worry baby,” he said softly. “Daddy will always love you.”
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