#[You'll all instantly know where I started loosing it] | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kurogane2512 · 5 months

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So like I got this idea one time when I was reading a text my friend sent me along with the picture, seeing the picture I instantly thought of requesting it to you

Like can you do a NSFW for your favorite characters in PTN, GI and HSR to see reader walking around their shared room in their undergarments only and suddenly gotten the idea of doing something naughty

I'm like down bad at the moment cause of that stupid picture from my friend of her infront of the mirror inside my apartment in her underwear while I was at work

Also love your stories here and in Wattpad always will be your supporter💜

Anon I need to know this friend of yours for.... research purposes /j This got me blushing so hard cause- AIJFHEIFWBC

Also sorry I couldn't do HSR I was not getting good ideas for them :(

Game: Genshin Impact, Path to Nowhere

Characters: Ningguang, La Signora, Lisa, Cabernet, Chameleon x fem!reader

Type: Fluff + smut drabble

Lisa Minci

Oh, she's so sly and sneaky. She's going to look you up and down then her eyes will darken ever so slightly, only she knows how much she wants to devour you right then and there. She wants to pleasure you so passionately by slipping her hand in your underwear until you can't walk for her.

The warm rays of the pleasant early morning sun illuminated Lisa's eyes through her bedroom windows, she stretched her body before sitting up and finding you weren't on the bed beside her but she knew where you would be. Sheepishly, she yawned then stood up to walk out of the room and as expected, found you in the kitchen. However, today your form looked slightly different. For some reason, you didn't put on any clothes besides your underwear and bra and just casually stood in front of the counter boiling some water.

Lisa was rather lazy in the mornings and took things slow, but today she was suddenly replenished of all energy as she gazed at you and her eyes trailed up and down your curves. It's not that she had never seen you this way; after all, she did quite a lot of things with your naked form last night. But something awakened in her seeing you stand this way in her kitchen; she couldn't hold back for long.

"Mmm, cutie, what are you doing?~" Lisa purred as she silently sneaked behind you and wrapped her arms around your waist, catching you by surprise.

"O-Oh, Lisa! Good morning. I was just making some coffee, do you want your tea right now or later?"

"Hmm...." Lisa hummed against your ear before cuddling into your neck and breathing in deeply, "What are you wearing?~"

"Huh? M-My underwear....? Is something wrong?"

Lisa grinned then gently bit your earlobe as her hand sneaked down your abdomen and slipped inside your underwear, her fingers brushing your clit. You arched into her with a small gasp and she only pressed closer, making your body bend over the counter.

"Trying to tempt me so early in the morning? When did my cutie become so naughty?~"

"N-No, I wasn't...Mhm!~"

"Shh~ Don't worry, darling. I'll give you what you want~"

You truly didn't mean to do this but who were you to deny her when she already had you wrapped around her finger- more like bent over the counter this way. Lisa hugged you closely causing your ass to rub against her clit, she was also wearing just an underwear and a loose shirt. Her fingers slipped deeper and she was now rubbing your folds before gently pushing one finger inside while her thumb continued to rub circles on your clit.

"Mm, so wet already. I truly wonder if you didn't mean to do this, sweetheart~"

She started grinding your ass while her fingers plunged deeply in you, breathless moans leaving your mouth as you stabilized yourself on the counter and attempted to rub against her as well. She smirked more then began humping you, not forgetting to work her fingers inside. Her tongue lapped up your neck before she embraced you tightly, moaning softly in your ear as her orgasm approached.

"Come on, cum for me, cutie~ You are close, right? You'll cum with me, okay...ngh~"

"Y-Yes....haahn....I'm cumming....please more, Lisa~"

She chuckled and humped faster now as her clit rubbed just the right way on the fabric of your underwear, her fingers scissored at your sensitive spots then she bit your neck and you both finally released together. Her fingers drenched in your juices while she rubbed against you a bit more to ride out her orgasm. Maybe you wouldn't mind having your mornings this way more often.

Ningguang

Ningguang is caught off guard at first. Poor woman just returned home from a stressful day and here she sees you standing in front of the vanity in your underwear.... Are you trying to tempt her already? She automatically thinks you were waiting for her to come home and be ready for her this way. How disappointed she is to know you were simply in the middle of changing and she happened to walk in? But that doesn't mean she won't change that.

"Baishi, I'm turning in for the day. Have these documents on my table tomorrow morning." Ningguang informed her secretary late at night.

"Yes, Lady Ningguang, as you say. Have a good night."

"Thank you, you too. Do you know if Y/n has returned?"

"Yes, my lady. She came back a few minutes ago."

Ningguang nodded with a smile and walked towards her private chamber, letting out a sigh of exhaustion before she opened the door and met with an unexpected sight of you standing in front of the mirror in just your undergarments. She almost blushed but kept her composure and a smirk crept up on her face as she slowly stepped inside while locking the door behind her.

"What do we have here?~" her velvety voice spoke causing you to turn around in surprise.

"Ah, Ning! Is your work over now?"

"It is, and it seems.... I have quite a reward waiting for myself~" she walked closer to you and gripped your chin with her index finger and thumb, making you slightly confused and flustered at the same time.

"What.... do you mean? I-I didn't do anything...."

"Hm? Acting clueless, are we? I must admit I do rather like it when you act reluctant this way~" she leaned in near your neck and licked your collarbone while her hand snaked between your thighs to press on your clothed clit, a surprised gasp leaving your lips.

"Ahn~ Wait, I wasn't.... I was just changing clothes, mhm~"

Ningguang frowned and leaned away from you, "Is that so? Seems I had my hopes up for nothing~"

She removed her hand and proceeded to turn around to do her own business, you became surprised at her sudden retreat and admiteddly didn't like her stopping.

"N-No! Wait!" you lunged forward and embraced her from behind, trapping her in your arms and a grin appeared on her face behind your back.

"No, please continue...."

She turned around triumphantly and gripped your chin once again while rubbing your clit, "So needy.... and here I thought you were just changing clothes, my dear?~

"Mmm.... but I don't mind you undressing me more~"

Ningguang chuckled and slid her hand inside your underwear while connecting her lips with yours in a passionate kiss. You wrapped your arms around her and proceeded to slide down her dress as well, leaving you both in a near-naked state while her fingers worked inside you, rubbing fast at your sensitive spots and making you come undone right on spot.

La Signora

As your superior, she came to pick you up after your training to go home together. She was sure she didn't see you go out but then she finally spotted you coming out of the shower rooms wearing your bra and underwear. Her eye squinted and she had already undressed you in her mind and the urge to mark your skin in red was unreal. Perhaps it was time to undress you for real as well.

Signora noted the time to be 6pm and decided it was time to head home. She made her way over the changing rooms of her designated training arena and found the place to be empty. Strange, she didn't see you walk out with others earlier so where did you go? But her question was answered right away when she saw you step out of a shower booth wearing just your bra and underwear and walk over to your locker when your eyes met hers.

"Ah, Rosa! When did you come...?" you blushed and instinctively hid your body causing her to smirk and walk up to you.

"Don't you realize how late it is? You made your superior come all the way for you, I think a punishment is in order~"

Your eyes widened and before you knew it, you were pinned on the locker behind you while Signora's hands roamed all over your body, groping your curves before settling on the waistband of your panties.

"So, how are you going to make it up to me?~" her index finger circled around the waistband while her other hand was grasping your jaw tightly to make you look at her and not avert your gaze. You felt her pull on the waistband then release all of a sudden, a 'snap' sound resounding in the empty room from the fabric slapping on your skin. You hissed and she only smirked wider, positioning her knee between your thighs and rubbing your core.

"Come on, speak up. If you don't say then I'll choose on my own and you won't have the right to complain then~"

"Mmm.... anything."

"Oh? Interesting. Hmm...." she hummed and trailed her gaze from head-to-toe then nuzzled near your neck and whispered in a seductive tone, "....You know, you seem rather clean to be called my top subordinate. I should stain you a bit to show how I don't hold back~"

You felt her tongue lap up your neck before she dived in to suck your skin, her lips wrapped on your neck with her teeth grazing it as she sucked and made bright red marks all over. Simultaneously, the hand near your panties had long slipped in and was fingering your clit while her knee grinded against your core. Your head threw back from the overwhelming sensations you felt from various places, she truly didn't hold back

Seeing your clear skin earlier made her hungry, she couldn't tolerate seeing you that way. She decided to mark you up everywhere with her signature red lipstick. Within moments, there were red lipstick marks and bite marks made all over your chest then continued down your belly and now your thighs. You shivered as she sucked on your inner thighs while thrusting her finger in and out of you. You knew she's going to make you weak in the knees right here.

Cabernet

It should be obvious that she'd want to devour you right away. Her hunger for you is insatiable and when you voluntarily undress in front of her? Oh, how do you expect her to hold back. Just because she has promised not to eat your soul until you give it, it doesn't mean she's not going to eat you up in other ways~

You were currently seated in the lavish mansion of the Franc family as invited by their heiress, Cabernet Franc, for a dinner. You weren't sure what to expect in your meal since you were aware of Cabernet's condition but fortunately, there was actual food and nothing fishy. Everything was made by Cabernet's best chefs whom she personally approved of, and the dishes were mostly your favorites because of course, she found out what you liked.

"Is the food to your liking, Chief? It's made by our head chef." Cabernet mused from across the table while holding up her wine glass and taking a leisurely sip, you nodded with a smile and thanked her for inviting you then continued eating.

"Hehe~ No need to be conscious, Chief. I'm not going to feed you my delicacies~"

"Of course, I know you wouldn't...."

You gave her a nervous smile then proceeded to pick up your wine glass and take a sip but accidentally dropped it from your hand due to the hasty movement. The glass shattered on the floor with most of the wine spilling on your shirt while the rest spread on the floor.

"Ah! I-I'm sorry! I—"

"Calm down, Chief. Let me help you."

Cabernet calmly stood up and came to your side and at the same time her butler came out with a maid to clean the spilled mess while she took you to her room to change your clothes.

"I have some plain shirts in my cupboard, I'll fetch it for you, Chief."

You agreed and Cabernet turned around to open her cupboard and search for a simple white shirt while you unbuttoned the stained one and waited for her. She finally found a shirt close to your size and turned to face you when her eyes widened in surprise looking at your half naked form. A faint smell of wine surrounded your body and she couldn't take her eyes off you, intently gazing at your lean form as she swallowed thickly. How irresistible.

"Uh, Cabernet?" you called out to her and she snapped out of her trance before smirking and walking closer. You brought your hand forward to take the shirt from her but she instead threw it away and suddenly brought you close to herself by pulling the waistband of your pants. Her face almost nuzzled in your neck and you could feel her hot breath against your skin breathing deeply as if taking your scent in.

"You smell really intoxicating, Chief. I just noticed there's some wine on your pants as well so.... let's get rid of them as well, shall we?~"

Before you could reply, she hastily unbuckled your belt followed by unbuttoning and pulling down your pants. You blushed furiously but were well aware of where this was going, you kicked away the pants from your feet and she wasted no time no push down on the bed and straddle your lap.

"Ahhh, Chief~ Everytime.... you have no idea how much you tempt me. It's not just your soul that's delicious.... your body, each and every part of you is delectable!~"

Cabernet was in a lustful trance, her face bright red as she hovered above you. She shifted down while licking the skin on your chest and trailing down your belly, gently sucking on your abs then reaching between your legs. She then pushed your underwear aside to give a gentle lick to your clit, your head shooting back in ecstasy.

Oh, how she loved that reaction.

She was already eating you out now, her tongue hungrily lapped up your folds before she pushed it in and sucked on your walls while lapping up your insides.

"Mmmm, hmmgh!~" she moaned into you as she slurped up your delicious juices, her thumb playing with your clit simultaneously. Your body arched up in bliss, she was too good at this. She knew your weak spots so well, she knew how to draw out your juices so well and she was going to not leave a single drop.

Chameleon

She wants to tie you up and watch you squirm then and there. No questions asked. I very much believe she's into tying you up whenever she gets the chance and she makes the most of it. And what's better than you automatically undressing in front of her? It's practically an invitation for her to do as she pleases~

You had a bad day at work, unnecessary meetings and arguments with people on top of hearing the complaints of clients. You were stressed out and just wanted to go home and forget about it all. You opened the door to your room to find your girlfriend, Chameleon, already settled on the bed and reading a book.

"Ah, welcome back, darling. How was your day?~" She asked with a gentle smile and sat up on the bed, focusing all her attention on you. You sighed and proceeded to remove your coat followed by your shoes and socks then throwing away your tie while continuing to pace back n forth and tell her what all had happened.

She had already sensed from the door that you were stressed out more then usual today, and she was more than happy to lend you an ear and ease your pain. She silently watched you go around the room while undressing, sliding down your pants in one corner then throwing away the shirt in another until you were in just your underagrments and were taking out clothes from your cupboard.

"Seriously, you tell me, how was I wrong in this?! It was ridiculous I swear!"

You ranted your last bit of stress and turned around to face her but she was suddenly right up behind you. You didn't realize when she walked up and stood there, you were so busy in ranting by yourself and your thoughts. Soon after, you noticed she also had your tie in her hands and you subconsciously swallowed in your throat.

"C-Chameleon—"

"Shhh~" she put her finger on your lips and shushed you, stopping you from anymore then proceeded to blindfold you with the tie and wrap her arms around your neck.

"I know you are stressed out, my darling. Let me help you relax, you know you can trust me on this. Besides...." her palm slid down your chest as if she was feeling your skin and abs, "....You have already made all preparations. Now, just follow my lead~"

In the next few moments, you were pushed down on the bed with your hands tied to the headboards and your eyes blinded. You had no idea what Chameleon was going to do, she was unpredictable every time. You felt the bed sink around you as she climbed up and you felt her straddle your lap then run her hands on your bare stomach.

"Mmm.... look how tense your muscles are. It seems you had a really bad day. But you know I'm the best when it comes to helping people relax, isn't that right?~"

"Yes...."

"Hehe, good girl~"

She shifted down slightly and pushed your legs apart to place herself between them and you suddenly felt something poke your clit. Oh, she was going to do this. You were excited now, and Chameleon knew that very well. She had control over your feelings too well. She rubbed the strap against your clit a few times before gently pushing in then bottoming out in a single thrust.

You arched up with a gasp feeling her penetrate you, but there was no pain and only pleasure. She was doing it intentionally, she had blocked your pain receptors so you would only feel uphoric in this moment. Within no time, she was rapidly thrusting in and out of you with her cock and watched you writhe beneath herself. How much she loved doing this.

She didn't have to do too much work, once she made you feel the pleasure for real, she simply mimiced the feeling in your mind and doubled it with her powers while she silently sat beside you and watched you squirm in pleasure. She was going to have so much fun with you all night today.

#genshin impact #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #genshin women #path to nowhere #la signora #signora x reader #ningguang #ningguang x reader #lisa minci #lisa x reader #cabernet #ptn cabernet #cabernet x reader #ptn x reader #ptn smut #chameleon #ptn chameleon #chameleon x reader

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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 1 year

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Cold as ice II

a/n because why not take an opportunity to cry some more. I am so thankful for all the love honestly! You guys are the best!✨🤍

summary: what happens when Ellie stumbles upon a memorial that turns out to have both your and Joel's kids names on it. When the past pain is brought back to the daylight even the coldest of hearts finally break.

This can be read as a standalone but is written as a part two to Cold as ice.

warning: Killing, mentions of multiple death, loosing your kids, supplement use, mention of miscarriage, trauma but I think this is not as bad as the first part lol.

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"How is she?", Tommy approached Joel in a tight corridor that was filled with both sobbing people and soldiers shouting. "The same," Joel ran a hand over his face, "They are moving everyone out of here today. To a different quarantine facility." Those words instantly sparked something in Joel. "What? Shit, she's still pumped up with meds", if the process of going there was as torture as it was getting here, you barely stood a chance.

"Joel", Tommy started, but Joel was all up at his face within a heartbeat, "Tommy, if you'll tell me one more fucking time to leave her by. I will blow out your brain's myself". The tone was anything but pleasant. Joel had been wanting to rip someone to pieces for some time now. He had beaten the stranger to a pulp here after the first day. The man was standing in front of the door that led to your room. Crunched down to look through the little window. Joel didn't ask questions; he just swung a punch. Nor did he remember much besides that when Tommy pulled him away, the man was nothing but a pool of blood.

"You know that's not what…", "She lost two kids…", Joel's words cracked mid-sentence as the thought of his two angels once again swirled in his mind. His biggest and most precious little bugs were taken away like that. "So did you, man", Tommy brought Joel closer to him. Joel's arms moved to grip the material of his brother's jacket. He didn't want to cry, but the sob had come out of nowhere. The past three days have been a nightmare and then some. Now Joel was sure that he was paying for all of his sins. Paying in the most brutal ways.

Dragging you away from the field was the second hardest thing Joel ever had to do. He could only pray that his arms would not let him down as he pressed you closer to his body. Joel wasn't sure what they injected into your neck once you reached an army van and practically ripped out the eyes of the soldier who tried to help you into the vehicle, but you collapsed immediately. Joel barely managed to catch you. He pressed your unconscious body against his. Just like he had for the past hour or so. Praying and hoping that you weren't gone. Joel couldn't lose all three of you. Now you were all he had to fight for. No matter how much pain he was in himself. Joel had to drag you both out of the darkness.

Then he sat in the chair next to your bed. If you could even call it that. When they had ushered everyone underground, Joel had bribed a nurse to give you three a room and make sure that a doctor would come to check you. At that time, the price didn't matter. He needed an answer. Needed to know that you were going to wake up. High dose of sedatives - the doctor had said. "But I doubt it'll keep her out for long. After two kids… My apologies. If I'll find any medication", he had placed a supportive palm on Joel's shoulder. Something that would also end up feeling so foreign soon.

If Joel thought seeing you unconscious was difficult, it didn't compare to the heartbreak he had to endure the moment you opened your eyes. You jolted with a gasp. Eyes jumped across the room as you tried to figure out where you were. "Love…", Joel stood up, slowly approaching you. "Sarah… Malakai," you murmured as you continued to look around. "How about a glass of water, huh?", Joel asked, hoping to sway the topic. But you pushed the blanket off your body. "Sarah and Malakai," you repeated. Joel clenched his jaw. "Sarah and Malakai," "Love, stay in bed," Joel put his hands on your legs, stopping you from pushing them over the edge. "Sarah…Malakai", you said once again, eyes looking up at Joel, "They killed them. I saw… I saw," you breathed out, pressing a finger to your forehead where the bullet had pierced your son's skull. "I know, baby, I know", Joel tried to gently hold onto you, but the moment his palms touched your arms, you let out the loudest scream. Pushing him away as you turned to the other side of the bed. You dragged your feet over the cold concrete. Sinking to the floor without even being able to take a step forward. Joel rounded the bed as he kneeled in front of you.

"They are dead," you cried out, pulling at Joel's shirt, "My babies… I need to go, I need to…", you tried to pull yourself up by using Joel to brace yourself, but that only made you glance down at your hands, which were still slightly stained by the dried blood that had been on them. "Y/N, you need to calm down. Or they will come in here and", but you paid Joel no mind as you pulled your hands up so you could look at them.

"Get it off," you whispered, "Get it off," pushing your arms towards Joel as you screeched. Joel had scrubbed your unconscious body for hours. There was nothing more he could do. "Joel, get it off," you said once more, tears spilling from your eyes, and Joel couldn't bring himself to do anything. "It's everywhere, get it off", you moved your hand to rub at your skin. All you saw was blood. Blood everywhere. Rubbing turned into scratching, and soon your nails were raking over your skin. Joel quickly caught both of your wrists in his hands. Shaking you slightly as if in hopes of making your return to your senses. "Make it stop", you cried out, hallow eyes looking at Joel. "There's nothing on your hands, love", he barely managed to sound somewhat like himself. But you just shook your head at him, "There's blood all over them. Our kids' blood, Joel."

That was a day ago. Now you just lay there. Leafless. No movements. Eyes blinking once in a while. The only indication that you were still alive. Now Joel wished you would scream. The silence was torture. It was too loud. It pulled you so far away from him. Tommy clapped his brother on the back a couple of times before pulling away. "Get her ready. I'll look at how to get the best spot for you and make sure you two stay together," Joel said nothing. He hoped his eyes said enough. "You look after her. We'll get her back up on her feet," Joel could tell that even if Tommy tried to keep it somewhat positive, he didn't fully believe it himself. Didn't believe that there was any coming back from this. Nor did he believe that you would ever be the same. But Joel nodded anyway.

"Hey", Joel ran a hand over your forehead, once he stepped back into the little room, but didn't get a single movement in return. Not that he was expecting it. "We will have to get you dressed, okay? Then we'll need to go somewhere," Joel said, carefully pulling the blanket off your body before reaching for your clothes. Clothes he had washed. Wash off your kids' blood. Blood that seemed never-ending.

You were shivering. It hadn't stopped ever since you were brought in the first QZ. It had died down a bit. But there wasn't a moment when the quivering stopped. Joel pressed a kiss to your forehead as he walked through the corridor. Everyone was on high alert, and the soldiers were tired. Jumpy even. More than one person was killed here simply in the aftermath of unimaginable stress and anxiety. They only let healthy, strong people stay. Anyone with any injury, even the slightest one, was shot. You needed to stand on your own two feet. Walk through the lines of different specialists. Prove yourself worthy of surviving. And even that didn't guarantee you anything. You could have been hit by a bullet at any point.

You, however, were in no condition to stand. There was no way you could walk, much less talk. "Keep your head at the crook of my neck, love", Joel guided your head to rest there, "I will not let go of you even for a second. No one who will approach us will take you away from me," and at this point, Joel wasn't sure if he was still reassuring you or if it had turned to self-reassuring now. With the help of the doctor who assisted you just as you were brought here. They filed the documents of you having a miscarriage. Right here at the QZ. A piece of paper that had the main doctor's signature and forbade you from walking. That had high dosages of medicine marked as a fallacious move by the doctor itself. That you were more than a healthy female before that, and that you would regain that strength once the medication wore off. The only hope Joel had of getting you out of here alive was that piece of paper. And if that didn't work… Well, Joel was ready to kill anyone who stood in his way.

"Joel," Ellie's sad voice pulled the male out of the trance, "Sorry, I don't know why I'm telling you all of this." Joel rested his palms on his knees, ready to stand up, but Ellie quickly inched forward. It seemed to her that the man in front of her was no longer the same Joel she knew. "How did you… how did you get through that?", she knew the question was stupid. Joel let out a sad chuckle followed by a painful sigh, "You don't even have an idea how much strength you have until you are forced to use it. That's when you truly see your power". Joel had locked his pain away. Behind a plethora of locks, doors, and crevices. So no one could see it. No one could access it. Draped a shield of coldness on top of it. The coldness made Joel seem more like an animal than a human. He had to become a monster in order to protect the only thing that kept his heart beating. Nothing was off-limits when it came to you.

"I felt like I was failing every day. Every day that I saw her lying there," Joel shook his head at the images that haunted him. The feeling of helplessness flowed through him. Joel had found a woman who could pretend to be you for the time being. Who could take your evening shifts. Who kept the target off your back. No one was allowed to lay around in the QZ, there was too much work as it was. "Joel you were far from failing her", Ellie said putting her hand on Joel's palm, "It feels different kiddo when you see someone you love drifting away".

All the worried looks that Joel would give you made sense now. All the times he would walk up to you. Taking a hold of your hand as he looked at you. Moving to kiss your hands at the time, if not that then, Joel would just hold them in his much bigger palms. At the time, Ellie thought that by doing that, Joel was just trying to warm them up during the cold evenings, but now it had a way bigger meaning behind it. That was Joel's silent attempt to make sure that you stayed with him. That you wouldn't drift away. Like a true guard at night, standing his watch. Always ready to fight for you.

"And I felt horrible that I left him all alone", the sound of your voice made the two of them turn toward the door. "I kept on telling myself to get up. You need to do that for Joel, but…", you shrugged your shoulders. Joel reached his arm towards you, and you instantly walked close to him. Settling down on his lap. His arm snaked around your middle as Joel pressed a loving kiss to the top of your head. "I never blamed you for it," Joel whispered, looking straight into your eyes. "I know because you're an angel." You cupped his face gently. Leaning in to press your forehead to his. Brushing your fingers under Joel's eyes as you wiped away the last tears.

This man was everything. If you'd fallen for him and his sense of humor back then. The fact that there was never a dull moment with him that even the most serious moments could be turned into fits of laughter. If you had fallen for how attentive and caring he was toward your kids. The way he always put them first. The way he sat in the bathroom for hours learning how to braid Sarah's hair or how he played astronauts with Momo even after the longest shift. Putting him over his shoulder or back as he ran around the living room making all sorts of noises. Then Joel turned into a rock—a whole mountain that shielded you from the restless sea that threatened to drown you. Never moving. Never scared.

"I don't want you to feel like we've been using you as some sort of… as our kids' replacement. The love I feel towards you…" you started, but Ellie quickly shook her head. "How could I? No, Y/N never," she said quickly, and you reached for her hands. "You are a special girl, Ellie, so special," you said as you brushed your fingers over her cheek, and she leaned into your touch. Trying to savor it for as long as possible. "You both are like my parents and I've never felt that..", Ellie's bottom lip trembled. Joel reached out to her as well.

"And you are our girl," Joel said, his voice shaky, but he knew he had to say it. Had to let her know that his coldness toward her at the start was just his defensive response. His fear of the unknown. The fear of it all ending the same. But Joel knew that once his nightmare shifted and he started to see Ellie dying in Sarah's or Momo's place, he knew that she had sneaked past his guard. Ellie had managed to find that well-hidden spark inside Joel's heart. And there was nothing that could have been done about it.

Ellie wrapped her hands over both of your shoulders, pulling you both into a hug. A light cry slipped from her lips. Your hand instantly moved to rub her back in hopes of soothing her. Joel pressed a tender kiss to the crown of her head before turning his eyes to you. Your teary eyes were already looking back at him. You mouthed a silent "I love you" to him, which Joel returned straight away, followed by a light smile.

Once Ellie pulled away, you both looked at her with fondness. "Thank you for sharing this with me. You didn't have to, but you did," she said, as you rubbed away her tears the same way you had done before. "You are a part of the family now. Family doesn't have secrets," you said softly. "Plus, I think me and Y/N both needed closure", you nodded your head at Joel's words. You had told him multiple times that it was eating you alive that you were keeping this way from Ellie. You could tell that she sensed that something was wrong; she just never asked.

"Do you want to see a picture of them?", you asked, turning to Joel, who you knew had kept a picture of you four. The one he always carried around with him. Tommy had taken it on Momo's second birthday. The summer was in full swing, so you decided to have a barbecue outside. You stood there in a flowy dress, laughing at Sarah, who had a surprised look on her face since Joel had rubbed barbecue sauce on her cheek. Joel's head was thrown back as he laughed. Even Momo, who was nestled in your arms, had somewhat of a grin on his face.

"Sarah would have loved you", Ellie lifted her eyes away from the picture to the sound of Joel's voice. You hummed in agreement, "Momo would have been all over you as well you two cheeky bunch would have gotten into so much trouble". Ellie glanced back down. The image that she saw frozen in front of her seemed almost impossible compared to the two people she had met. But now she knew more than better to not judge the book by its cover. The deepest and most painful scars were always hidden the deepest.

"I would have loved to know them", Ellie said dragging her finger over their faces, "Momo, looks like a minute version of Joel". You let out a little laugh, "That's what I said. Imagine how mad I was after carrying him for nine months and he popped out looking nothing like me". Joel cracked a smile, looking down at the photograph himself. The one he barely pulled out these days.

"If we stay in Jackson, we must build them memorial stones and plant flowers all around them," Ellie said firmly. The tears picked up at the corners of your eyes as you gazed at her. "That's a really beautiful idea, Ellie bear," you said, running your fingers over her hair. Joel nudged Ellie's side playfully, making her let out a chuckle before he brought you closer to him once again. Time healed scars, even if slowly. But you two were here and now you had Ellie by your side. Your hearts, even if covered in scars, still beat for one another. Together, you were capable of anything and everything. Life has already proven that.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #the last of us imagine #the last of us x reader #joel miller imagine #pedro pascal imagine

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astrophileous · 1 year

Text

Love Bugs (Pt. 04)

Pairing: Derek Mogran x Female Reader

Synopsis: You and Derek Morgan have an arrangement. At work, your relationship is strictly business. Under the sheets, it's all about pleasure. Nothing more, nothing less. Until, of course, your feelings start to get involved. Your situation is complicated enough without the unexpexted predicament that suddenly befalls upon you. But with a maniac serial killer on the loose, will you ever get the chance to make everything right?

Warning(s): kidnapping, stalker/psychopathic behaviors, reader is being held captive, curse words (? - idk if there are any in this part but just in case), violent use of knife, tell me if I miss anything xx

Word Count: 1900-ish

Tag(s): @camilaheroine

Author's Note: I KNOW it seems like the chapters are getting shorter and shorter but I promise you it's because these last two ones are essentially mood-setters for the next big, prominent parts in the series. Sooo hang in there and I promise you'll get some juicy stuff on the new part on Thursday ;) meanwhile, don't forget to LIKE+COMMENT+REBLOG to fuel me into making more chapters (especially if you reblog or comment 💞)

Love Bugs Masterlist / Criminal Minds Masterlist

Last night, Derek was finally able to sleep for the first time in what felt like an eternity.

He had lost count of the many nights he spent tossing and turning, reaching for his phone with the intention of calling your number just to fling the device across the room before his thumb could press the call button. He would trick himself into thinking that whatever he needed to say could wait until the next day at work, only to be tongue-tied any time both of your paths would cross.

Derek Morgan had always been a courageous man. He had even proven that he would gladly give his life to hold the hand of someone sitting on top of a bomb if it meant that person wouldn't leave this world alone.

But when it came to you, Derek was an utterly, foolishly, shameful piece of coward.

"Good morning, everyone." Hotch's greeting broke Derek out of his stupor. "Let's start the day, shall we?"

"(Y/N) isn't here yet," Emily spoke up from beside him. At the mention of your name, Derek's ears instantly perked up. "Should I call her?"

Hotch stared at the empty chair where you were supposed to sit, seemingly deep in his thoughts before answering, "It's alright, I'll catch her up later myself. Shall we begin?"

The first to present their findings were JJ and Emily.

"We found something interesting while talking to the second victim's roommate yesterday," JJ began. "Apparently, the victim had been seeing some guy for the past few weeks before she disappeared."

"Why wasn't this information in our files?" Hotch frowned.

"Because our victim only disclosed this once to one of her friends at school that we didn't get to interview the first time around," Emily answered. "The roommate only just found out after they bumped into each other a couple of weeks ago."

"That's good. It's definitely a start. Gather everything you know about the date and send the information to Garcia. Maybe she can give us a list of potential suspects from there," Hotch ordered.

"Already done." JJ nodded.

"Okay, next. Reid, did you--"

"Sir?"

The sound from the doorway interrupted Hotch before he could even begin to voice his question out loud. Every head in that room turned towards Penelope standing in the doorway, a panic-stricken expression decorating her usually cheery face.

"What's up, Garcia?" Hotch questioned.

"Another package just arrived, sir," she informed nervously. "It's our UnSub."

Hotch abruptly got up from his seat. "Did you get a chance to take a look at the video yet?"

"I-It's not a video tape, sir."

"What is it, Garcia?" Rossi asked.

"It's a flashdrive." She cleared her throat. "I, uh, did a routine check to make sure that it didn't contain any viruses. Not like it matters. I probably could still access the files if he had used the common accessible viruses in the market. Thankfully, though, there wasn't a single virus in it. Which, of course, made my job a whole lot easier--"

"Garcia," Hotch warned.

"Yes? Right, right. I'm sorry, sir. What I meant to say is that the flashdrive didn't have any kinds of virus." Garcia started playing with her fingers, a physical tell which Derek knew could only mean that she was feeling anxious. "But I think you guys should see this."

Everyone scrambled from their seats to follow Garcia out of the conference room. In the middle of the bullpen, a large projector had been set up, its large screen covering the vast area of one of the walls.

"Garcia," Hotch called in confusion. "You said that it wasn't a video tape."

"It's not, sir," Garcia choked out. Her glasses-rimmed eyes taking in the sight of the hunched figure on the screen, seated on a chair in what looked like an abandoned building similar to the one they found in the first video. "This is streaming live."

"What?" Emily muttered in shock.

"This is right now?" Hotch asked, to which Garcia answered with a series of rapid nods.

"He's finally chosen his next victim," Reid commented under his breath.

"Wait, look. She's waking up," JJ pointed out.

Every pair of eyes in the room watched as the figure started to stir. When she finally lifted her head, the entire universe seemed to stand still.

Somewhere in the room, Derek heard somebody gasp.

"No."

Derek shook his head in denial. His eyes blinking rapidly to clear the fog that had started to gather in his vision. For a second there, Derek had hoped that maybe he was just seeing things. Maybe the guilt he had continuously hoarded over the past few weeks had at last caught up to him, playing cruel tricks to his mind that made him believe he was seeing things that weren't real.

When he managed to open his eyes again, Derek realized that the scene in front of him was not the product of his overly heinous imagination.

Because the figure being tied down on the chair in that video was, in fact, you.

"That's... That's not--"

"That's (Y/N)," Reid uttered in disbelief, finishing the sentence that Derek couldn't get out due to the strangled air in his throat.

Derek's legs gave out underneath him. Before he could fall helplessly to the ground, the desk behind him caught most of his body weight, ensuring that he would stay standing despite the paralysis that had begun attacking his entire limbs.

His worst nightmare had just come true.

And Derek, for the first time in his life, finally knew what a pure, unadulterated terror felt like.

The insufferable pain was the first thing you registered when you opened your eyes.

Chronic migraines were a condition that had always run in your family. Your mother had them when she was alive. You started having them when you were in high school. At their worst, the migraines you had to endure were unbearable. They became insanely painful at times that you didn't even have the capacity to get out of bed.

But this headache was definitely worse. So much worse.

You blinked your eyes once, twice, three times in an attempt to clear the white threads in your vision. When your eyes had refocused enough for you to see without feeling like you were about to topple over, you began to take in your surroundings.

The room was humid and dark. The small ventilations to your right told you that the sun was already up, meaning that you were passed out all night long. With a few hours had passed since you were last conscious to the moment you woke up, there was no way to estimate the exact location to which your captor had taken you.

As your eyes swept over the large expanse of moldy dark concrete, they caught sight of a device being mounted on the wall.

A camera.

He was watching you.

The dread was quick to sink in your stomach. The camera meant that your captor had been watching your every move. And if he truly had, it was only a matter of time before he would pay a visit after learning that you had regained your consciousness.

As if he had been rummaging through your mind himself, you heard the sound of a metal door opening barely a few minutes later.

His presence reeked of atrocity. The sound of his heavy footsteps echoed to the background sound of malice, promising all things devilish to anyone who ever caught a wind of it. You watched him appear from the darkness. All black attire--complete with a black ski mask--to cover his true identity. But even with nearly his whole face hidden, the cruel promise in his eyes alone was enough to make you shiver in place.

"Good morning, Agent (Y/L/N). You were asleep a lot longer than I thought you'd be."

You unconsciously tugged at the restrains that bound you to the chair.

"I saw your message for me, Agent. Did you like my gift?"

"The video tape. That was you?"

His eyes crinkled in the corner as if he was elated at the idea of you receiving the so-called gift he had prepared.

"You liked it?" he almost purred. "I knew you would. I knew you were different from the others. I saw you up there and I just knew that you were the one I was looking for."

"Of course. Thank you so much for such a special gift."

You knew the profile had stated that the UnSub loved attention, meaning that he also seeked validation and compliance from his victims. Trying to fight him would only result in catastrophe. Especially after considering that the video tape he sent showed apparent signs of unpredictable devolving from his organized self. He was intelligent enough to know if you ever tried to trick him, so your best bet at that moment was to play along with his fantasy and hoped that it would give you additional time to figure out a more elaborated plan of action.

"You already know my name, but I still don't know yours. What should I call you?"

The UnSub pondered your curiosity in the silence. "You don't remember me?"

His question baffled you.

His reaction implied that you must have crossed paths with him, somewhere, somehow, during the weeks that had passed since the press conference.

That knowledge alone had dread stirring higher in your gut.

"I'm sorry." You quickly tried to rectify the situation. "It's dark in here, and you're wearing that mask. A-and my head, it's throbbing really bad. Kinda makes it difficult to see or recognize anything. Or anyone."

Thankfully, he seemed to find your excuse acceptable. "You can call me Darling."

"Darling?" You hid the instant repulsion in your voice at the nickname. "Is that really your name?"

Booming laughter filled the room, chilling your bones and activating every fight or flight response in your body. The mirth in his eyes caused you to feel as if you had just delivered the biggest joke of the century by asking him that last question.

"No, it's not my real name," he let out after seemingly pleased by your accidental jab in humor. "Darling is what we are to each other. You'll be my Darling and I'll be yours. Forever."

Forever.

You ignored how that one single word ignited a massive turbulence in your bloodstream.

"Is that why you took all of those women?" you asked cautiously. "You were looking for your Darling?"

"Yes. But let's not worry about that anymore. I've got you, now." He stalked over to you then, taking your chin between his fingers and forcing you to stare into his eyes. "None of the others are as worthy as you, Darling. We are going to have so much fun together."

You inwardly cringed while imagining what exactly the type of "fun" he might have meant.

"I have a surprise waiting for us to commemorate our first day together," he suddenly told you.

"A surprise? What kind of surprise?"

He reached around his back before pulling out a dagger that he began to twirl in his hand. The sharp point of its metallic blade blinded you as your captor moved around your tied up body, stalking at every angle as if you were a prey he wanted to shred to pieces.

Eventually, his steps halted behind the chair you were tied to, rooting you in place with one hand on your shoulder while the other pressed the tip of the dagger to your jaw.

"Smile at the camera, Darling," he whispered behind your ear. "We have an audience."

"What are you talking about?"

"Your team is watching," he informed between his dark snickers. "Let's make sure the show is worth their time, shall we?"

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neon-junkie · 9 months

Text

Chef!Crosshair x Server!Reader Headcanons

This has been stuck in my drafts for a while, so I figured I'd tidy it up, and hit post. Reader is gender-neutral. 2k words. I think Crosshair would deffo be a chef in a modern setting! A little self indulgent as I'm a bartender/server... hehehehe...

Crosshair isn't quite the top dog, but second in line. Still, he runs the kitchen, and Maker forbids anybody to step out of line when Crosshair is on shift.

Or in general, for that matter. Crosshair has no problem breaking one of his chefs down to tears if they forget one simple task, like day dotting food stock, or ensuring that the fridges are at the correct temperature.

"A baby could do this job better than you. Why can't you pull your karking socks up, and get some sense through your thick skull?!"

Crosshair is a big meanie, to put it blankly. He has respect for those who do their job right, but if you're acting like an idiot in his kitchen, then all hell will break loose.

He's snappy to the front of house staff, too. Including the servers. Didn't scrape the plates enough? That deserves a telling off. Rushing him for orders? Fuck off. And if you dare steal a chip? Might as well die.

Crosshair doesn't like mess, clutter, or laziness, and everybody knows damn well how much it irritates him. Just don't be stupid, essentially.

Anyway, you've applied to this popular street food style restaurant. It's not posh, far from it. The food is fatty and filling, the perfect hangover cure, and you're guilty of being a regular.

The Manager, Hunter, doesn't seem surprised when you apply, and your interview is essentially a chit-chat, getting to know each other, seeing as you've already met from coming in on the regular.

It's finally time for you to put your uniform on, and be introduced to the rest of the staff. Everybody is lovely, to say the least, as you've met them before from being a customer.

Then you go into the back of house, and meet those who have blessed your stomach time and time again.

Hunter's eyes trail the kitchen before he asks, "where's Cross?" and another staff member shrugs whilst replying, "out the back."

Hunter, after letting out a grumble, leads you to the back entrance, explaining that this is the staff smoking area. Just as he's about to step outside, the door opens, and a tired-looking man in pristine chef's whites stands in the doorway.

He lets out another puff of his cigarette before discarding it, only to choke on the smoke as his eyes meet yours. His hand comes up to clear his throat, and you notice the tattoos and burn marks scattered over his toned arms. He's clear of jewellery, but you instantly know he's the type to wear rings and chains when he's off shift.

"Cross, I want to introduce you to our new server," Hunter pulls his gaze from yours, and after saying your name, Crosshair fails to make eye contact with you.

Only now do you notice his face tattoo, darkly contrasting against his silver hair. Is it dyed? Or is he really this stressed out from his job?

"Nice to meet you," Crosshair mutters as he extends his hand, and shakes yours. "Now, if you'll excuse me. I have stock to count."

And with that, he's pushing past you and Hunter, disappearing into the kitchen.

Hunter turns back to you with a sigh, "he doesn't talk much. Not a fan of strangers, but I'm sure he'll warm up to you."

Oh, how right Hunter is.

Your first week went well, and you're slowly starting to establish a place for yourself within your new work environment.

Today is your usual weekday shift. Not too busy, but not slow paced either. The lunch rush has finished, and you're tasked with cleaning up tables. Another stack of plates is brought into the kitchen, and you're going through them one by one, scraping the leftovers into the bin before stacking them on the shelves for the pot washer to clean, when he's back from his cigarette break.

You can feel somebody's eyes on the back of your head, practically burning a hole through your skull. Curious, you peer over your shoulder, and lock eyes with Crosshair.

He's attempting to prep some vegetables, and narrowly misses his finger whilst chopping them, his gaze fixated elsewhere. Only, once your eyes meet his, Crosshair looks back to his task, acting as if he wasn't just staring at you.

So, you turn away, only to look back at him when his voice fills the air.

"It's nice to have some competence around here," Crosshair comments. You let out a soft "hm?" so Crosshair continues. "Most of the other servers leave their plates a mess, barely scraped, stacked in the wrong order. It's nice to have a server who knows how to do their job."

"It's not like it's hard," you say with a shrug.

"Exactly," Crosshair looks back up at you, and you notice the upwards turn to his lips.

You return to your task after matching his smile, and you're both content with the silence in the air.

Once finished, it's time for your break. Whilst you would usually ring your staff food through without a second thought, you decide to ask Crosshairs permission first.

"Hey, I know you're doing prep, but do you mind if I ring my food through? I can wait if-"

"-What would you like, Sweetheart?" Crosshair asks, wiping his hands clean as he makes his way over to the grill.

"Uhm… a burger?" your mind falls blank, mostly because you're not used to having a chef seem this happy with cooking.

"Is that it?" Crosshair raises his brow. "Come on, you can come up with something more creative than that. Tell me what toppings you like."

Before you know it, you're going into depth about exactly how you like your burgers. All the while, Crosshair is nodding in agreement, and even chimes in with comments here and there. You soon ring your order up, and whilst waiting for it to cook, you return to cleaning your tables, all whilst your heart is pounding with butterflies in your chest.

Back in the kitchen, Crosshair catches himself smiling as he cooks your meal. He doesn't even realise how sappy he's being until he squirts the burger sauce onto the bun in the shape of a heart, soon to be hidden by a patty cooked to your liking.

"What's got you all cheery?" Hunter questions as he peers in the kitchen, bewildered at Crosshairs content expression.

Crosshair slips his emotional mask back on as he meets his brother's eyes, "just excited for my cigarette break."

One month into your new job, and you're more than happy here. The customers are nice, your coworkers are great, and the food is to die for!

Sure, you're in the honeymoon phase, but you'll enjoy it whilst it lasts.

Crosshair is slowly opening up to you, but he's been the toughest egg to crack. Whilst everybody else has no issue with jumping straight into conversation, Crosshair tends to keep his mouth shut, minus the odd hum and one-word reply here and there.

Only, you've seen him speak to others. Well, not speak… scream! Crosshair has no issue with shouting at his cooks over the smallest of things. He's even barked at the other servers, too. You know that he's overall disliked within the workplace, but sometimes, you can understand Crosshairs point of view.

He's right. It's not hard to do your job right, keep your area tidy, and be efficient. Maker knows how your co-workers manage to screw the smallest of things up, and sure, you've made mistakes here and there, and always bent over backwards to fix them.

But despite Crosshair's tough demeanour, deep down, he's a real sap. Or at least, he is towards you.

You've noticed that you can get away with certain things, such as nibbling on a few leftover chips whilst waiting for orders to be plated up, or using different abbreviations when ringing up orders.

You didn't even realise that wasn't the norm, until a fellow coworker commented, "Crosshair lets you eat the leftover fries? He swatted my hand away when I tried to do that, just like everybody else."

Maybe it's because you bring Crosshair a cup of coffee to his liking at the start of every shift? Or because you always let out comments here and there about how good the food is presented?

Maybe it's just because Crosshair has a thing for you, as much as he denies it. You are his favourite server, but Maker forbid that anybody knows, despite it being painfully obvious.

Obvious to everyone, but you.

You finally catch on during one stressful shift. A customer, as cursed as they are, broke you down to tears. You remained stiff lipped whilst taking a beating, but the second you entered the back of house, tears started rolling down your cheeks.

Hunter takes the burden of the customer off your shoulders, and orders you to go and take a moment to yourself out back.

The fire exit door swings open, and you storm out, holding back a choked sob as you take a seat on one of the many empty crates resting against the building.

Your head falls into your hands, elbows resting on your knees, and finally alone, you begin to cry.

Only, you're not alone. Crosshair is on the other side of the door, back resting against the wall with a forgotten cigarette pressed between his fingers. He can hear you crying, and after swallowing his feelings, and allowing them to settle in his uneasy stomach, he discards his cigarette and decides to approach you.

"Customers, huh?" Crosshair questions as he takes a seat beside you, not bothering to ask if you need a friend. He knows damn well that you do.

A series of incoherent words fall from your lips, but Crosshair can piece them together. You're venting about what just happened, mumbling and babbling away, blowing off steam with your favourite chef by your side.

In the midst of offloading your anger, Crosshair decides to weave his arm around your shoulders, and gently pull you into his grasp.

He doesn't even realise what he's done until your head comes to rest on his shoulder, lashes fluttering against his sensitive Adams apple, still venting away whilst a hand caresses your shoulder and back.

"And you wonder why I work in the kitchen," Crosshair comments, earning a laugh from you.

"Maybe I should switch, and start working in the kitchen with you," you say with a light chuckle.

Despite his stomach turning at the idea, Crosshair puts on a smile as he replies, "that wouldn't be so bad. I'm sure I could put up with you."

"Put up with me?" you repeat with a gasp, straightening your back to meet his eyes. All Crosshair does is give you a shrug, with a cheeky grin on his lips. "Phfft, I'd be the one putting up with you. I've seen how you bark at your chefs," you continue.

"I don't bark," Crosshair says with a playful glare. "I bite."

You can't help but let out a laugh, soon returning your head to his shoulder. "You wouldn't bite me," you boast.

Crosshair allows his cheek to rest against the top of your head. "I might do," he says eagerly, "but only if you waste stock."

"Oh, I'd definitely burn a burger or two," you admit, knowing damn-well that you're a riot in the kitchen.

In the midst of your nattering, Hunter makes his way through the back of house to find you, knowing that you're taking a breather outside.

Only he stops once he overhears your voice, and a certain chef talking to you.

Smiling to himself, Hunter decides that you don't need him - you have somebody else to take care of you, somebody who has been eager to talk to you, but is far more timid than he lets on.

Hunter's little plan is going smoothly, now that Crosshair is finally speaking to you, rather than keeping to himself in the kitchen.

After all, Crosshair is the main reason why you were hired. It's his own fault, drunkenly admitting that he thought a certain regular customer was attractive, and definitely his type.

Fate took its course, and Hunter found your CV in his pile only a few days later.

You were beyond perfect for the job, and maybe, just maybe, you'll be even better for a certain chef.

#tbbwriting #tbb #the bad batch #chef!crosshair #crosshair #line cook!crosshair #gn!reader #gender neutral reader #reader insert #crosshair x reader #tbb crosshair x reader #tbb crosshair #bad batch #tbb fanfic #the bad batch fanfic #headcanon #sfw

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clanwarrior-tumbly · 8 months

Note

A raggedy Ann/Andy reader sounds fun with some characters from the Barbie movie! A rag doll is a doll after all they just have more things they can do like being very flexible

Ohh I love raggedy ann! Tbh I've had a hc that other dolls/action figures can also inhabit Barbieland if their owner played with them alongside their Barbie toys.

They're rare but they do coexist with the Barbies and Kens!

........

Stereotypical Barbie (Ann!Reader)

At first, learning that a new type of doll was living in Barbieland bewildered her.

You're not like any Barbie she's ever seen before, with you being made entirely of cloth with yarn hair and a triangular nose.

Given how you've been around since 1915, you're stunned by how far dolls have evolved since then.

You're well-liked among the Barbies, although of course many of them had questions about what you could do as a rag doll.

For starters, your plastic-free body gives you more flexibility and freedom they couldn't even imagine having.

You never have to worry about breaking anything!

While you're susceptible to tearing, you know how to sew yourself back up.

Does it scare Stereo!Barbie sometimes when you suddenly produce a needle to fix a loose stitch in your arm? Sure.

But she's extremely accepting and welcoming.

She even invites you to sleepovers during girls' night where you learn more about the Barbies and listen to their gossip.

When she starts having her existential problems, you let her hug you and reassure her she's still the prettiest doll you've ever had the honor of meeting.

Beach Ken (Andy!Reader)

He doesn't usually pay much attention to other dolls aside from Stereotypical Barbie (and occasionally his buddy Allan).

But seeing a new non-Mattel doll enter the scene did pique his interest! Especially since you were the first to ask him why he was staring at her.

He always wonders what your job is...even though you're constantly reminding him you're just a kid.

When he eventually gets it, he'll try to show you the ropes of Beach, trying to act like a cool older brother figure(tm).

Part of him hopes that Barbie will see how sweet he is with kids and another hopes it'll make the other Kens jealous that they're not friends with a cool doll like yourself.

However like Film!Andy you do have a feisty attitude, always rolling your eyes when you see him gushing over her and making a fool out of himself.

Sometimes you think he's trying too hard to impress her.

Yet you have a softer side that comes out after Barbieland is taken back by the girls, and you comfort Ken by saying you did like all the cowboy stuff he brought back (and only the cowboy stuff).

You made the mistake of asking him about horses as he just infodumps random facts for the next ten minutes.

But you finally accepted him as your brother.

Weird Barbie (Ann!Reader)

When you first appeared in Barbieland, you were confused as to why all the dolls here weren't made of cloth like you.

You felt like you were misplaced, and eventually learned about Weird Barbie and sought advice from her.

She explains that your owner in the real world must've either played with you alongside their Barbie toys or shelved you in a collection of them.

Regardless, she assures you it's not a rare phenomenon and it's nothing to freak out over.

You just so-happened to be closer to Barbieland society than most non-Mattel dolls.

She lets you crash at her place anytime you want, and you get to meet all the other outcasted/discontinued dolls who lived with her.

They're curious about you and love how you're flexible enough to do just about anything!

If any of them are feeling sad, you'll give them hugs that help them feel better instantly.

Weird Barbie thinks you're cool 100%.

Plus, you're nice and clearly had manners as you didn't call her "weird" behind her back or to her face.

#clanask #anonymous #barbie x reader #barbie movie x reader #margot robbie barbie #ryan gosling ken #weird barbie #doll reader #raggedy ann #raggedy andy #headcanons #platonic

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cognitosclowns · 1 year

Note

I wanna fall asleep with these freaks 💓🥺

I am the eepiest sleepiest little guy of all time and this activated a Worm in my Brain so this is gonna get SO LONG AMSDNAMSND

sfw!! just snuggles and soft things

Reagan

Not extremely cuddly? She likes her personal space!

That doesn't mean she never wants cuddles, she's just gotta be in a particular Mood for it!

Most nights, she wants to be kinda,, gently curled into your arm?? just a loose grip around it w/ her own, cheek resting on your bicep.

She talks in her sleep, but it's very quiet. Usually it's just her going through her schedule for tmrw (does she?? dream of work in her sleep???), but occasionally, you'll hear her mumbling about how much she loves you <333

Yes, it's just as cute as it sounds. She has no memory of it in the morning, but if you bring it up, she'll get this flustered little Half-Smile alllll morning <3

She falls asleep so fast. if you wanna be cute w/ her while cozied in bed I'm so sorry, the second she feels Safe and Warm and Cozy in your vicinity she's passing out for 4-12 hours ✨✌🏻

It's alright, you know she needs her rest <3 besides, that just opens up options for you two to be soft and shmoopy in the morning

Brett

Unsurprisingly, the cuddliest guy of all time. He would be inside your ribcage if the opportunity was provided KJASDKASJD

He really likes?? laying on your chest and stomach?? he likes to be significantly further down. occasionally you'll just,, barely see his hair and the top of his forehead peaking out from the covers from how low he gets

it's just so comfy! he likes The Noises and Warmth and Vague Suffocation that comes w/ sleeping w/ his head under the covers, resting against your torso <3

He smiles so much in his sleep. you didn't think ppl did that outside of movies, but he totally does <3 usually only when he's having a particularly good dream.

OH ALSO HIS BED IS SO FUCKING COZY

I REFUSE TO BELIEVE THIS MAN DOESN'T QUILT. HE HAS SO MANY BEAUTIFUL HAND-MADE QUILTS AND BLANKETS AND KNITTED SHIT IN HIS BED. I hope you like being cozy bc you're gonna be The Coziest Of All Time.

He also sleeps with stuffed animals! He always did as a child bc his treehouse was always cold as hell, and the habit just stayed with him!

they're so well-kept and soft all these years later <3 usually he just keeps them at the foot of the bed, bc it makes him feel safe to, but occasionally he'll bring a couple up for you two to snuggle <3 You Are Never Too Old To Snuggle A Stuffed Bear Don't Like To Yourself.

Andre

A Nightmare (affectionate)

not only is his sleep schedule Entirely Batshit, but he has so much trouble falling asleep. expect lots of tossing and turning

he does settle a lot thought when you hold him!! Don't hold too close, he still needs to squirm a lot to actually fall asleep

You're also the only person that he gets a full nights sleep with <3 he usually ends up waking up in the night, his mind starts working on smth, and he doesn't go back to sleep <3 but with you, it's almost instantaneous.

A little Jump, a bit of squirming to get into a comfortable position, and then off to seeb again <3 it's nice to see just how safe he feels around you <3

Expect plenty of early morning/late night convos <3 hell even middle of the night convos, where he hasn't realised that he fell asleep and instantly hops back into Whatever He Was

He also has such a habit of. Continuing Conversations From His Dream. like he'll just grab your arm and start talking about Yes I'm Sure If We Distilled It Enough We Could Make Whiskey Out Of Lighter Fluid Myc before passing out cold MASNFASMFJ

TLDR. squirmy silly man, but also enjoyable to seeb with.

Gigi

OUGHEEEEEEEEAWBABWBAGOURGHR <- experiencing wife fevers

SO COZY HOLY SHIT

I refuse to believe she doesn't have a Big Comfy Bed. Silk covers, big thick duvet, more pillows that she knows what to do with. The bed is 3 times the size of her so when you catch her snuggled up in bed she truly just looks like those photos of Very Small Puppies in Very Large Beds MNASDMASND

So cuddly <3 you wouldn't expect it, since she makes a point of being seen as very Untouchable and Independent, but she loves to be held.

Her ideal state is nuzzled under your chin, feeling your pulse through your neck <333 a leg hooked around yours to make sure you're nice and close.

She takes a while to fall asleep, so she likes to go to bed early! Feel free to join her at any time, she'll just be dozing <3

If you do join her when she goes to bed, expect some,, very soft, lovey-dovey moments. she looks utterly adorable, all bundled up in her cozy little slightly-too-poofy nightgown and eye mask.

She Deserves 1000000 Cheek Smooches Or Else You Shall Die Of Love Disease <- her favourite part of the night. she will start giggling the moment she feels your lips on her cheeks and neck.

kisses her 1000. she's the most

Myc

HE OWNS A WATERBED I KNOW THIS FUCKING MAN OWNS A WATERBED

A FREEFLOW WATERBED TOO. NO SUPPORT IT FEELS LIKE YOU'RE FLOATING.

It's actually pretty comfortable after you get used to it. you see the appeal, it's kinda got that Sensory Deprivation Tank feeling of weightless floating <3

Expect to be utterly Mummified in tentacles AKSDJASKJ

He insists that it's so that you don't go tossing and turning in your sleep and knock his ass off the bed but. You See Through His Lies You Understand. You See The Jackassery At Play Here.

OUGHEEE he has such a habit of like. swirling his tentacles gently around your skin. Not necessarily stroking back and forth, moreso massaging? if you have any knots in your back, thighs, or arms, they're gonna be gone by morning.

Fairly quiet? That doesn't mean silent though, he absolutely talks while you two drift off to sleep, but it's all in very quiet tones. A Little Shit, But Lovingly. (you may. gently have to bop him on the head and tell him to Shut The Hell Up Its 3 Am Goddamn Not Everyone's Job Is Just Sitting Around Getting Jacked Off MANSDMASNDMANSDMN)

Glenn

He snores like a foghorn I'm so sorry. the old man of all time

If you can look past that though, he's so fucking delightful to sleep with <33 most especially bc he loves when you lay on him

he says smth about how it Helps Unfuck His Back, but you're at least 45% sure that that isn't the main reason

(and you're right, it isn't <3 he just loves feeling your weight on him)

He loves just,, leaving a hand against your back, running up and down as you settle in to sleep <33 before leaving it to rest on the small of your back <33 love is so real and true.

his tail wags in his sleep

HIS TAIL WAGS IN HIS SLEEP

You'll see this most when he's sleeping on his stomach, bc when he's on his back his tail can't move, and on his side Everything Hurts At All Times KAJDKASJ

You'll see it squirm around the most when you're touching him <3 if you run your hands through his hair, or trace patterns on his back that things gonna be WHIPPING like a wheatstalk in a hurricane.

^ this also applies to. early morning and late night cuddles. in the morning its more of a,, slow waggle? like you'll just see it gently twitching under the bed, while you place kisses on his cheek BAWBBABWBABW <- if I talk about his tail any more we'll never be done

just the guy of all time <3 go sleep with that old man go do it go do it now go go go go g

Let Him Sleep On The Booba

Truly he sleeps best with his face buried in your chest. what can he say, it's cozy as hell.

his ideal state is being Unconscious. A Coma. Laying horizontally being fed nutrients through a tube. He will nap on you at any possible moment

It's one of the time's he feels Truly Safe? Like he's constantly having to run around doing what the Shadow Board wants, doing what Rand wants, etc. Sometimes You Just Need A Little Nap With Your Partner To Be Okay Again

He IS freezing cold I refuse to believe otherwise. he runs Ice Cold and it takes him 15 minutes to warm up. feels a bit like cuddling a corpse until your body heat brings him back to Human Levels Of Warmth.

The things we do for love smh MNSFGKFAJSFGKSDJ

stupid rich expensive bed. imported silk sheets. mathematically optimised mattress designed in a lab to give him The Best Sleep Possible. he's rich enough to buy several countries, he might as well put it to use.

Alpha-Beta

OUGHEEEEEEEEAWBABWBAGOURGHR <- experiencing wife fevers part 2

He's such a heavy sleeper MY GOD. If you couldn't hear his internal systems whirring and clicking you'd think he was dead KJDSAKFJASDKFJDSA

It isn't really his fault - his 'sleep cycle' likes to be done in one solid stretch, to avoid file corruption, which means. His body just,, won't wake him up unless it senses Active Danger to himself or you.

It's fine! He'll wake up if the house is on fire. Probably.

'aww you're such an old man <3' <- he's going to push you into a woodchipper AKSGJSAKDJFKSDFGJ

He's so warm and cozy <3

Upside, personal heater during the winter. Downside, summer is hell for both of you (Upside, he sleeps mostly naked in summer to avoid Dying of Death Disease)

Hold him <3 hold him he won't ask but he loves being held, even more than he loves holding you (which is. Saying Something). The second he feels your arms wrap around him, maybe one of your hands gently fussing with his hair? Out like a light <3 its sweet, all those unspoken ways that shows how much he loves you <3

ABWBABWBAB I swear I did an ask like this before but. I don't care this was so cute. If you have any additions, go nuts!

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familyvideostevie · 2 years

Note

if u are still doing kiss prompts, 4 or 5 with steve?

ive been saving this bc i knew id want to write some fluff this weekend so here you go my dear! just some short and sweet fluff <3

4. breaking the kiss but instantly pressing your lips back together __

The platform is crowded enough that you get jostled as soon as you step off the train. All of a sudden the fatigue hits you all at once and your backpack feels heavier than it has this entire trip. You allow the wave of people to sweep you to the main station, where your journey will end. Where Steve is waiting for you.

It's all high ceilings and loud conversation, groups of people shaking hands and hugging and milling about, drinking coffee and snacking on pastries and taking photos with carefully lined up cameras. While you spot many people by themselves, taking a deep breath just like you, there are reunions happening all around you as people find their loved ones.

And your loved one is around here somewhere. You've only been to this station a few times, so you manage to stand against a wall and search the space for him. Not a single part of you thinks he's not there -- in fact, you know that if you just stay put, he'll find you. You and Steve have always been like that: magnets. But you want to find him first, find him as soon as you can so you can hold him. The throng of people seems to start to lessen as you glance around, looking for the height of him, the softness of his gaze, the coif of his hair. To you, Steve has always stood out in a crowd.

And then you see him -- he's standing on the landing halfway up one of the big staircases in the station, arms crossed and neck craning as he searches for you. He's got brown paper-wrapped flowers in one hand and his car keys in the other and you'll be damned if he isn't the best thing you've ever seen. It gives you enough energy to all but run through the crowd, the heaviness of your travels forgotten. He spots you once you hit the bottom of the staircase and it lights up his entire face, his grin stretching his nose scrunches.

"Hey! I know you!" he cries, the excitement in his voice betraying any teasing he's about to try. You practically hurl yourself up the stairs and toss your backpack at his feet before you hug him tight, arms around his neck, your chin hooking over his shoulder. He wraps his around your hips in an effort to keep his balance, the paper on the flowers crackling against your back.

"Hi, Steve," you say into his ear. He squeezes you.

"Hi yourself," he replies. "Gimme a kiss." You pull your face back but don't move your arms as you obey. You intend to keep it soft and light, but he licks into your mouth almost immediately like he can't be another moment without tasting you. It makes you smile big enough that you pull away, a laugh on the tip of your tongue. But before you can let it loose Steve presses your lips together again, and again, and again. Three short pecks, smacking and a little wet.

"Missed you," he says between each one. "Missed you, missed you." You finally force him away with a gentle hand on his jaw, thumb strolling the corner of his mouth.

"I missed you too," you tell him. His eyes are soft, lashes long as always. He's beautiful and though you know you're a mess, you feel like a million bucks under his tender gaze.

"You just missed looking at this face, huh?" he teases.

You trace one finger along the skin below his right eye and frown. "Course I did." He looks so bowled over by the tender honesty in your tone -- by the fact that you've just gone on a great trip and you really did miss him -- that he loses his words. You kiss him again, quick and sweet, before tugging on the wrist that's holding the flowers. "These for me?" you ask.

Steve blinks once, owlishly, before nodding, a fond smile taking over. "You bet they are." He hands them over and scoops up your backpack onto his shoulder. You inhale the bouquet but don't tear your eyes away from him.

"They're really pretty, Steve. Thank you," you say.

He scoffs like he can't believe you'd thank him for something so small. "You're real pretty," he says. "Prettier than I remember, actually. How did you do that?" It's your turn to scoff and you roll your eyes for good measure, but Steve dives in for another kiss. This one is your favorite -- it's slow and gentle, the kind he gives you when you wake up, when you compliment him, when you get into the passenger seat of his car. It's a kiss that says you have all the time in the world.

But you are in a train station, after all.

"We're giving everyone a free show," you mumble against his lips.

He pulls back and runs his thumb along your hairline. "They just wish they were us," he smirks. They should, you think. Everyone should hope to be this lucky.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington blurb #blurbs #emma's asks

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cinemastyles-backup · 7 months

Text

Summary: After drunk texting Harry, your brother's best friend, to come pick you up from a party, things start to get a little harder to resist for Harry and y/n

Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, alcohol consumption, unprotected sex, road head, fingering, masterbation, slight sexting, etc. general filth

My original CinemaStyles-blog has been terminated, so I created a new one.

I slip on my dress and turn in the mirror, inspecting myself.

"Isn't that a little short?"

I jump and turn quickly, letting out a relieving sigh when I see it's just Harry, my brothers friend, leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed.

"You're annoying." I roll my eyes and pull my dress down more.

"We'll now you're just showing the goods on the top half." He snorts and laughs. I turn to him, "If you have such a problem with my dress, why don't you dress me? Hmm?" I hold my arms out to my sides.

He shakes his head, "I'd rather undress you than anything."

"What?" I ask shocked. He winks, "You heard me." He pushes himself off the frame and turns around, "Derek, your sister is so annoying."

Derek laughs and agree with him, "You don't have to tell me."

"Screw both of you." I yell out the door. My phone dings and it's Macie letting me know she's pulling up to my house.

I grab my purse and give myself one last look over. I walk into the hall, "Derek I'll be back, Macie is here."

"Be safe. Have fun. Call if you need a ride." He yells from his room. Harry pokes his head out and looks me up and down again while biting his lip.

I roll my eyes and pull my dress up a little as I walk away. I look back over my shoulder before I walk down the steps and he's shaking his head.

Harry has been around for a while, we grew up together. We'll, he grew up with my brother, I was just here because I live here too.

Have I thought about Harry in certain ways, uh yeah I have. I mean look at him, he's so pretty. Like a perfectly chiseled statue from the gods themselves.

I open the car door and get in, "Hey!" She looks me over, "You got out of the house in this?" I give her a weird look, "What do you mean?"

She smirks, "Harry's in there with Derek, isn't he?"

I smile and shake my head, "Yeah." She whistles, "You and Harry just need to get it over with." I look over at her as she starts to drive, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Really?" She asks, "You could cut the sexual tension between you two with a knife."

I bite my lip and shrug, "I've thought about it, sure. But what if it goes bad and then it's all awkward between us for the rest of our lives."

"I really don't think you'll have to worry about that. Just, okay." She blows air, "Just have a few drinks tonight, loosen up, and text him. See where it goes."

I gasp, "Oh god, Macie, no. I can't do that." She nods, "Yeah, you can actually. Trust me. You'll want to text him once you're drunk. I know how you are."

"I'm not like that.." I look over at her, "Am I?"

She smiles, "It's okay. It's cute. You like him and he most definitely likes you back, so I say go for it."

"We'll see I guess."

———

... And you want a triple X throwdown, dial 1-900-MIXALOT, and kick them nasty thoughts, baby got back...

I walk over to grab another drink as the song ends, laughing with Macie.

"How do you feel?" She asks handing me a cup. I smile big, "Great."

"Did you text Harry?" She giggles, "You should totally text Harry."

My smile is instantly wiped away and I shake my head, "Oh fuck. No." I start to chug my drink before the anxiety hits me.

"Oh come on! Let loose tonight, girl. Have fun!" She pours more alcohol into my cup. "Okay." I finish my drink and tilt my head, staring at my empty cup, "I'll text him."

"That's my girl." Macie cheers and nods, "I'll be over there if you need me, but please don't need me because that guy is super fine."

She runs away and I bring my phone up. I stare at the screen for a few moments before I finally remember what I was doing.

"Oh right." I giggle. I pour myself another cup and walk over to the empty couch. I sit down and tap on Harry's contact.

Me: How's hanfing wirh my beother?

I stare at my screen waiting for a response.

Harry: Boring since I have no one to pick on now.

I smile and sip my drink before setting it back down. I slowly tap the screen, trying my best to concentrate on what I'm trying to type out.

Me: Oh boo shouls have came eith me

This liquor has me feeling bold. Might as well roll with it, right?

Harry: I didn't get an invite. How is the party?

I pick up my cup and send him a selfie, making sure my cleavage is on full display.

Me: Prety boring avually

Macie comes over and leans over the couch, wrapping her arms around my neck from behind, "Ahh! I love you!" She yells, "Let's take a picture!!"

I go into my camera and start taking snaps when Harry's text appears at the top of the screen.

Harry: Fuck. You look so hot.

"Oooh! It's going well I see." She giggles and hugs me, "Go get him tiger."

I look back at her as she stands up, "You're drunk."

"So are you!" She yells back as she is pull away by some guy.

I go back into our messages and bite my lip.

Me: Inwiah you were here

I pout slightly at the fact that he really isn't here.

Harry: I wish I was there too, sweetheart. Believe me.

Me: Why? So you cam make sureim all safe and sound?

I laugh slightly and lean back, finishing my drink.

Harry: To make sure no other guys touch what I want to be mine.

I stare at his text for what seems like forever before I remember that I need to respond.

Me: yourw so hot Harry. Like reallu really hott.

Harry: where are you at?

I look around.

Me: sittig on a coucg alone. Drunk hahaha

I furrow my brows and bite my lip.

Me: please come geg me

Harry: send me your location. I'm on my way.

I manage to figure out how to send him my location.

Me: im here. Cant wait to fuck you

I blink as I stare at my text, did I really just fucking send that? I smirk, yea I did.

Harry: Oh darling. You better be careful what you wish for.

Me: I willl be outside. Waitin for ya.

I shove my phone into my purse and stand up. I feel semi dizzy from sitting for a while. I shake my head slightly and look for Macie.

I spot her across the room making out with some guy. I walk over to her and tap her on the shoulder. She turns around and her eyes go wide, "Well?"

I smirk, "He is on his way. Will you be okay? Don't drive please." She hugs me, "I'll be fine. You just worry about getting your sexy on with Mr. Harry."

I laugh and nods, "Oh, i plan to." I turn and make my way outside. The cool air starts to sober me up as it snaps against my bare skin.

"I should have brought a coat." I mumble as I wrap my arms around myself. I walk back and fourth, my heels clicking against the sidewalk with each step.

There's a bright pair of headlights that shine on me. I squint and look away until they pass. The car is stopped in front of me and Harry gets out, looking over the top of it at me with a smirk.

"Hey!" I say in a super happy tone. He walks around and opens the door for me, "Hey." He says as I climb in.

He shuts the door and I look around, waiting for him to get back in. He gets in and reaches in the back, pulling a blanket up from the back seat, "Here."

I smile as he lays the blanket over my legs. My breathe suddenly catches in my throat as his hand brushes against my skin.

"Not much coverage on that dress I noticed." He says with a chuckle. I look over at him, "Are you complaining about it?"

He licks his lips, "Oh fuck no."

I smirk and lean down to take my heels off, "Just so you know. I'm not as drunk as I was."

"Oh yeah? So what you're saying is, you'll remember this tomorrow?" He glances over at me. I nod and bring my lower lip between my teeth, looking him up and down.

"Harry." I whisper, "Can I- uh. Never mind." I shake my head and sink down in my seat a little, the nervousness of being in his presence alone starts to settle in.

No, no. Do it. Just do it.

"You can do anything you want to me." He reaches over and gently runs his thumb over my chin and lips.

My drunk confidence returns and I unbuckle my seat belt. I move up so I'm sitting on my knees and I lean over. I place a hand on his chest and slowly slide it down as I kiss his neck.

A low groan escapes from his lips I suck his skin between my lips and bite down gently.

I slide my hand over his bulge, letting it sit on top for a few seconds before I slip my hand between the band of his sweats, "You're so hard for me already."

"As soon as I seen you in this dress.. I couldn't make it go away." He mumbles with a gasp, "I've thought about this. A lot."

I lean back and pull my hair over my shoulder. I lean over and he lifts his hips up so I can pulls his sweats and boxers down to his mid thigh.

I bite my lip and pump his cock a few times, earning low moans from him. I lean down and place my lips around the tip, sucking gently.

"Fuck." He groans low, "Shit."

I take more of him in, working my way down slowly. He places one of his hands on the top of my head, pushing down as he lifts his hips up.

I moan at the feeling of him being in my throat. I slowly pull back and slowly sink my mouth down into him again. I do that a few more times before he starts to tap my arm.

"O-okay, love. You're going to me make me cum and I don't want that yet." His breathing is heavy.

"Awe, why not?" I fake pout.

He reaches over and lays a hand on my thigh, "I want to feel your pussy around my cock before I do that."

I smirk at his words and lean back, bringing my one leg up and spreading them both. I slowly slip my panties off and throw them in his back seat.

"That was so hot. Are you going to play with your pussy for me while I find a spot for us to park?" He asks placing his hand back on my thigh, "You're such a bad girl."

I pull my dress up so it's bunching around my stomach, exposing myself to Harry. I bring two fingers up to my mouth and slowly suck on them. I look over at Harry and pull them out, playing them onto my clit.

I gasp at the sudden feeling of pleasure and whimper as I circle it, "Oh fuck."

He squeezes my thigh, "Oh shit."

I close my eyes and tilt my head back as I slip two fingers in, slowly scissoring my fingers in and out of my pussy, repeatedly moaning his name.

He keeps his focus on the road, hands tight around the steering wheel as he glances over.

He pulls off the road and parks, "Get over here." He unbuckles his seat belt as I climb over into his lap. His lips immediately find mine and it takes my breathe away.

It's so much better than I imagined.

"Are you sober?" He asks between kissing me.

I nod.

"I need to hear you say it."

I lean back and look at him, "I'm sober. I want you." I lean in and kiss his neck up to his ear, "I want you so fucking bad."

He moans lowly at my words and grips my hips, assisting me as I slide down onto him.

I grab his biceps and tilt my head back, "Oh fuck." He lets out a groan and rests his head against my chest, "Shit."

I start to move my hips, sitting gets to be too much. I gasp, "Harry."

"You feel so fucking good." He grabs my face and kisses me, "So much better than I thought."

The seat belt buckle is digging into my knee but I don't care, I lean back against the steering wheel and beep the horn, immediately bursting into laughter.

He laughs and wraps an arm around my waist.

"Sorry." I shake my head laughing. I bite my lip and look down at him. I trace my thumb over his bottom lip as I move my hips.

He closes his eyes and his lips part slightly. I lean down and rest my forehead against his.

"Are you close?" He whispers, "Feels like you are."

I nod, "Yes." I start to move my hips faster, getting into a rhythm that feels incredible.

"Cum for me." He whispers lowly, "I want to feel you cum all over my cock."

His words have a pull on me that's bringing me closer and closer.

I whimper as my knees start to hurt, the feeling of my orgasm rising fast. I claw at the headrest and push down onto him, rocking my hips slowly as I cum.

He holds me to his chest, talking to me gentle as I come down from my high, "Good girl. You did so good."

I slowly lean up, "Your turn."

I climb off of him and lean over the arm rest again, taking him into my mouth.

I pump his cock and suck on the tip, working him up to his orgasm, "Hmm, fuck." He bucks his hips slightly and places a hand on my back. His fingertips dig into my skin.

I take more of him in, swirling my tongue, sucking, moaning at the feeling of him in my mouth.

"D-Don't stop." He gasps, "Fuck, fuck."

He thrusts his hips up and holds my head still as his cum coat my mouth and throat. I lick him clean and sit up slowly, the pain of my legs starting to set in.

I look over at him and he looks back at me with a huge smile on his face, "You're so bad."

I scoff, "You started this, Mr I'd rather take your clothes off."

He shrugs, "I like you, what can I say?"

"You- you like me?" I smile slightly.

"I thought it was obvious. Your brother picks on me all the time for it." He pulls his pants up and looks over at me, "I mean, it really was just a matter of time before anything happened." He winks and I laugh, "Take me home, Styles."

"Your place or mine?"

"Yours."

——

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jackrubyjane · 2 years

Text

Pizza Delivery! ft. Jihyo

Genres: Smut, Blowjob, Titjob

a/n: this is our first smut settling in to Tumblr from the hellhole called wattpad, please be kind to us and hope you'll enjoy!

#####################

"Yooo y/n, you got a delivery" My manger said putting two pizza boxes and and a bag full of drinks, "Where's the address" I asked grabbing the stuff "Usual place as usual" He said sliding over the receipt 'Damn its the sixth time this week' i thought, but then again i don't mind delivering this to TWICE'S DORM put their orders in the back of the car and carefully drove off.

Meanwhile in Twice's dorm Jihyo was taking a shower while singing their new song Alcohol free, her beautiful voice was loud enough to hear outside of their dorm room y/n can hear that over and over again , but the pizza might get cold, so he pressed the door bell maybe twice until he got an answer "Wait a minute please" Jihyo said 'Dang her voice is so loud' y/n thought

He could hear wet foot steps coming closer to the door and it finally opened and instantly y/n eyes almost came out of his socket, Jihyo was standing there with all of her glory with her wet hair cascading down to her shoulder and her curvy and beutiful body was covered up by a towel and only her cleavage was visible

"Ehem" Jihyo faked coughed gaining his attention and she could tell he was checking her out, truth be told she didn't mind, why ? because she may have a little crush on him since the first time he delivered here

He found him attractive and funny, "Oh.....uh sorry here's your pizza and drinks, thank you for ordering with us" he said stuttering and blushing so he quickly hurried trying to get out of that situation as soon as possible

"Hey dummy, i haven't payed yet" Jihyo giggled "Come here you can wait inside is cold right now" she said, he turned around and mentally prepared himself

When he was about to go in, jihyo purposely sway her hips back and forth making the growing tent in his pants worse, he mentally cursed himself for having a boner, and face palmed

But then a loud scream came out of her room, he quickly checks on what's happening to jihyo, he first went into the wrong room but found it

"What's wrong jih....." He was speechless on what he saw, Jihyo laying there naked with her legs spread wide showing her cleanly shaven pussy while looking at him seductively

"Jih....Jihyo ssi, what are you doing" He said gulping and avoiding eye contact, she slowly walked over to him her breast is fully out and making him even more hornier but he have to fight it

"Awe come one i know you like what you saw" She said as she comes closer pinning him against her wardrobe door "And it seems like your friend down there lime it too" she said, all he could do is look elsewhere, but eventually looked into her lust filled eyes

She cupped his cock with her hands and kissed him pationately, he finally gave in and grabbed her by the waist and fiddling with her nipples making her moan to his mouth, he broke the kiss and trail them fown onto her neck, and to her left boob sucking on them and twirling in her nipples, she was in bliss, she pulled his head back and continued to kiss him

She went down on her knees and eagerly unbuckled his belt and pulling down his uniform short along with his boxers making his 9 inch cock to came loose, she was shock at first and was worried she couldn't fit it inside her

"If you dont want to, you don't have to" He said to jihyo "No no, i want to" she said and slowly started to stroke him "Ugh..... yes jihyo...... just like that" He groaned, she slowly started to fasten the pace, but then she got an idea

she stopped and put his dick in between the valey of her breast and squeezed them together, his dick fits perfectly there and the tip of his cock hits her lips

Y/n decide to thrust into her breast giving her some help "Oh fuck jihyo that feels great" He said fastening the pace "You like that huh, you like how your dick feels between my breast" She asked seductively and he nodded

"Ugh.... i think I'm close" He said, then she lets go and started to suck his rod "Oh..... God your mouth feels great" He said, Jihyo then slowly started to suck his cock

He was in bliss right now, seeing his bias fully naked and sucking on his cock right now felt so surreal

"Oh...... fuck jihyo, you are good" He groaned again "Fuck im close" He said and that makes jihyo sucked faster "Ugh jihyo....." He moaned out

"Jihh......." He came out and filled her mouth with so much that some came out of it, she stroke it making some of it came out and hit her hair boobs and body

"As much as i wanna continue my members are coming" She said while licking the excess cum that was still dripping "Here give me your phone" She asked and he picked up the phone that was on the ground"

She opens the camera app and took a selfie of her current state "Dont share this to anyone else" She said smirking

"Now hurry, they'll arrive any minute now" she said and he put on his pants and went back outside "Oh hey y/n" she called and he looked back "Here's the money" she said and handed him the money "Ill see you later" She smirked and kissed his cheek

#twice smuts #jihyo smut #jihyo x reader #twice

467 notes · View notes

ne0nic · 6 months

Text

Be The Reason

₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ Vash x f!Reader ₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

MDNI

ִ ࣪𖤐 Word Count: 31.8k

ִ ࣪𖤐 CW: NSFW, Sex, Self Harm, Guns, Knives, Blood & Gore, Angst, Hurt with Not Alot of Comfort, BountyHunter!Reader, Siblings Relationship with Wolfwood & Livio, Blind Loyalty to Millions Knives, Wolfwood Escaped the Church, Slight Trauma Bonding, Loosely Follows the Plot of Trigun Stampede, '98 Trigun Elements if You Squint

ִ ࣪𖤐 No use of Y/N, Never use of Y/N

ִ ࣪𖤐 Just a Snippet, Too Long For Tumblr

"This is an order from Knives."

"Of course it is," you drone, looking over the wanted poster. After years of being Knives' loyal soldier, he's finally tasked you with playing in the big leagues—the Humanoid Typhoon. It's the most sought-after bounty on the board, and now it's your sole target. You haven't failed Knives yet, and you sure as hell won't start now.

Finding this guy, Vash the Stampede, an awful code name by any standard, is already next to impossible. Bounty hunters have thrown heaps of cash for even a hint of his whereabouts for years, with nothing to show for it. You're not interested in the lies or wasting imaginary money. But maybe, just maybe, you know better than them.

The next time a call comes in, and some eager kid rushes into the bar spouting nonsense about spotting the Humanoid Typhoon, the hunters are instantly in a frenzy. They swarm to their trucks and speed off into the desert without a second thought. However, you don't follow their lead. In fact, you turn in the opposite direction.

He is aware that he's been hunted for a long time, and he's probably accustomed to diverting the crowd away from wherever he's hiding. Plus, he likely has a few friends willing to provide cover for him. You'll need to outsmart them all to catch your elusive prey.

Honestly, it takes a bit longer than you'd hoped, but the payoff is worth it. In a small bar, nestled in an unassuming town, the man with the biggest bounty No Man's Land has ever seen sits, savoring his drinks like there's no tomorrow. You observe from the shadows atop the stairs as he shares hearty laughs and engages in charming banter with the locals. His smile is wide and inviting, just like the one on his wanted poster. It's a bit strange coming from a guy accused of the things he has done, but, to your disappointment, it's evident that everyone here is armed and more than willing to defend him from you.

So, patience becomes your ally. It's frustrating, but he's within your grasp, practically in the palm of your hand. All that remains is to seize the moment. You quietly step back, plotting your move.

Down below, Wolfwood's gaze widens as he catches a glimpse of a shadow retreating from the railing above. There's something eerily familiar about it, but it can't be...

"Hey, everything okay?" Vash inquires, noticing the alarmed look on his face. Wolfwood lowers his eyes and takes a drag from his cigarette before flicking the ashes away.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he responds nonchalantly, though it hardly convinces Vash.

The two eventually depart from the bar late into the night, leaving behind patrons who have fallen asleep where they sat. Eager not to end up like them, they make their way toward tonight's lodgings.

And, naturally, you are there too, shrouded in darkness, silently tailing the pair. Vash sways slightly from side to side, a bit too entranced by the alcohol.

Wolfwood abruptly stops, causing you to retreat into the shadows. "What's up?" Vash asks, puzzled, as he turns toward his companion.

"I forgot something. You go on ahead," Wolfwood says abruptly, before disappearing down an alley without further explanation.

"Alright," Vash mumbles and continues down the street.

In just a matter of minutes, you have Vash pinned against an alley wall. With one hand securing the back of his neck and keeping him at bay, you deftly fasten the cuffs around his wrists. "Hey, can we maybe start with introductions? What's your name?"

"Make a sound, and I'll dislocate your arm," you warn, emphasizing your point by gripping where skin and metal meet. Vash winces.

"Okay! Okay! I get it," he says quickly. You slide his gun from its holster.

"Hey, hey, hey! That's important! Could you not touch that?" he pleads.

"Shut up," you snap, stowing the gun in the back of your pants.

The sudden hum and activation of a weapon cause you to freeze. Out of the corner of your eye, you spot Wolfwood, his grip firm on the Punisher, but his eyes betraying hesitation. This isn't exactly the time or place you'd planned for a reunion, but you knew he wouldn't be far. Your training has made you acutely aware of each other's presence.

"You're alive," he murmurs, astonishment in his voice. "And you're working for Knives?"

"Stay out of my way," you instruct firmly.

"You don't have to work for those bastards! You can—" Your knife pierces through his stomach. Wolfwood meets your gaze with wide eyes. Evidently, your speed has caught him off guard. It's almost amusing to see him realize you're not the naive kid you once were.

"I can do what?" you ask, drawing your knife back, making him lurch before collapsing onto the sand. "Run away like you did? I chose this, Nico," you remind him in a hushed yet resolute voice.

"Wolfwood?!" Vash cries out in alarm.

"Move it," you snap, sheathing your dagger. You grab Vash by the coat and forcibly drag him away.

"Wait! Wait! He'll die!" Vash protests desperately.

"If I wanted to kill him, he'd be dead," you say coldly, showing no remorse for your actions. At the edge of town, you throw Vash into your car. He flops onto the seat and looks up at you with wide, bewildered eyes.

"How could you do that to him?" Vash asks, his voice filled with disbelief and concern.

Without acknowledging him, you slam the car door shut and speed away from the small town, venturing out into the vast desert ahead.

"Are you… like Wolfwood?" Vash continues, trying to make sense of your actions. You remain silent, your elbow resting on the door as you lean your head against your fist.

"Just be quiet," you mutter.

"You care about him, don't you?" Vash persists, undeterred by your lack of response. His curiosity seems insatiable. Frustrated, you lean forward and grab a half-eaten donut from a pastry bag on the dashboard. Without a word, you stuff it into Vash's mouth. He's momentarily surprised but can't resist the sweetness. A brief moment of silence follows until he finishes his bite.

"Those marks on your wrist, what are they from?" Vash inquires, determined to extract some information from you. His persistence is starting to get on your nerves.

"Enough," You snap, finally putting a stop to Vash's incessant questions. He closes his mouth, clearly surprised by your outburst. "He warned me you were talkative," you mutter, annoyed.

"Just tell me one thing. Why do you work for him?" Vash presses, determination in his eyes.

You shift your jaw, contemplating whether to answer. After a moment, you decide to offer a glimpse of the truth. "For the thrill and the cash."

"And you're from the orphanage?" Vash inquires further.

"Hell no. I was… a volunteer," you admit with a bitter tone.

"What?" Vash's heart aches as he hears your confession. After Wolfwood explained everything he went through, Vash can't fathom someone willingly subjecting themselves to such a fate.

"I became what I wanted to be, and now I'm Knives' favorite," you continue, bitterness still present in your voice. "Nico hated me when we were younger. He lost his mind when he realized I let it happen. But none of that matters. Once I drop you off to Knives, I'll be on my way with my money." Vash's gaze returns to your wrist with a new understanding.

"So then those marks—" he starts to ask, his voice filled with concern.

"I wasn't always Knives' favorite," you mumble, and Vash looks at your face, a deep sense of guilt washing over him. His brother hurt you, left scars on your body. If he hadn't… If they hadn't…

The weight of your words sinks in, leaving a heavy silence in the car as the desert stretches endlessly around you.

The car jerks violently, throwing both you and Vash around as it spins through the sand. You desperately try to keep it steady, but the sandy terrain has other plans. Finally, the car comes to a halt, thankfully without tipping over. As it settles, you shoot an annoyed glare at Vash, who has ended up leaning on you during the chaos. You push him off, not in the mood for any of this. "Get the hell off me."

"Sorry! Sorry!" Vash stammers, scrambling away from you. You quickly scan the rearview mirror as the dust begins to settle, revealing a figure standing on the dune behind you, holding a large cross-shaped weapon.

"Bastard!" You hiss, flinging open the car door, ready to confront the threat.

"Wait! Don't just leave me-" Vash pleads, but you slam the door shut behind you. Your hand darts to the back of your pants, retrieving the gun as you zero in on the figure. With a quick, practiced motion, you cock the hammer back and pull the trigger.

Click.

Is this a joke?! Why the hell was this idiot carrying an unloaded gun? Your irritation is interrupted by searing pain that shoots through your arm, forcing you to drop the useless weapon. You groan in agony as your arm falls to your side.

Shit!

Pressing your back against the car, you fight through the pain, knowing Wolfwood is closing in. You might have to kill him, even though Knives hadn't ordered it. But right now, you need to come to terms with the fact—

"Hey! Are you alright?! Let me see!" Vash suddenly pops up in front of you, the handcuffs only around his flesh wrist clinking. He reaches out toward your injured arm.

"What the hell? Get away from me!" you snap, making Vash flinch back.

"I just wanna help," Vash insists.

"Don't worry. She'll heal in a moment," Wolfwood's voice cuts through the tension as he stands at the tail end of the car.

"Bastard! I'll damn well kill you!" You screech, as you attempt to get to your feet, the pain ebbing as your arm begins to heal. Steam rises from your skin, and you can't help but wince in agony.

Vash takes a step forward, a desperate desire to help you coursing through him, but Wolfwood's firm hand presses against his chest, holding him back. Vash glances at him, and Wolfwood doesn't meet his gaze. After your pain subsides and you regain your composure, Wolfwood scrutinizes you from head to toe.

"Hurts like a bitch, don't it?" he asks in a gruff tone.

"Fuck you," you spit out venomously, leaning against the car to regain your footing. "Why the hell are you protecting him?! He's worth billions!"

"Why the hell are you working for Knives?! After what he did to us?!" Wolfwood fires back, frustration evident in his voice.

"Us?" You repeat with a scoff, fully standing from the car, which prompts Wolfwood to position himself closer to Vash. You narrow your gaze at his actions. "There is no us. You made that very clear."

"Just because I didn't agree with your insanity doesn't mean I don't-"

"Care about me?!" You finish his sentence, your tone dripping with cynicism. "That's cheap coming from you."

"I'm trying to help you, dammit!" Wolfwood yells, exasperation etched across his face.

"I don't need your help," you retort, pulling your dagger out of its sheath. "I need you to stay down."

"If that's the way you wanna settle this," Wolfwood concedes, dropping the Punisher weapon into the sand.

"You're not actually gonna fight her, are you?!" Vash pleads.

"It's what she wants," Wolfwood mutters, tossing his cigarette to the ground and smothering it.

"Come on, you two grew up together! This is crazy! We can just talk things out!" Vash insists, hoping to find a peaceful resolution.

"Stay out of this, Needle Noggin," Wolfwood sighs, cracking his knuckles. "This has been a long time coming."

"Ready?"

"Ready."

"Stop! Hold it! Hold on!" Vash steps between both of you, trying to be the voice of reason. He turns to Wolfwood. "I won't let you-" But before he can finish his plea, your foot hooks around his waist, and you throw him aside. Vash tumbles into the sand, watching the ensuing brawl unfold.

You and Wolfwood go at it fiercely, fists swinging, and landing hard smacks on each other. He dodges your blade with ease, and you deftly evade his counterattacks. It seems as if you're evenly matched for a while. Blood and bruises start to decorate both of your faces, but your healing powers kick in, burning with pain that only fuels your rage.

With a swift sweep of your leg, you send Wolfwood crashing into the sand. You leap onto him, clutching the knife tightly, ready to deliver a finishing blow. But just as you raise the knife over your head, pain shoots through your fingers as the blade snaps in half and lands in the sand. You whirl your head toward Vash, his gun still smoking. It's a move of desperation, and Vash has never been more thankful for the spare bullet he found.

Wolfwood seizes the opportunity to switch positions, pinning you to the sand. You struggle against him, demanding he get off. He holds you in place until you stop resisting. Lying back, you mutter, "Just kill me."

"I could never do that."

"I'm dead anyway," you mutter, revealing the harsh reality that Knives considers you expendable. It's a grim truth that hangs heavy in the air.

"Everything you've done has been to survive. And I was the asshole who doubted you. I was wrong for that. But right now you can trust that I won't let anything happen to you."

"Idiot. As if you're any match for him," you sigh. Slowly, Wolfwood gets to his feet and helps you stand. But before he can react, your foot lands a solid kick to his shin, causing him to keel over in pain.

"That's for shooting at me!" you declare.

"God! You devil woman!" Wolfwood curses, nursing his throbbing leg.

"Get over it," you sigh. Your gaze locks onto Vash, making the blonde stiffen. With brisk steps, you approach him. He holds up his hands, not wanting any smoke. You grip the pad of the handcuffs, and it unlatches from his wrist. He looks down in surprise.

"You're… Letting me go?"

"I lost. It's just how things are between us," you admit, already hating the unspoken agreement that hangs in the air. Wolfwood groans behind you as the elixir does its job, gradually mending his wounds.

"But if you go back empty-handed-"

"It doesn't matter," you say firmly. Vash reaches out, placing a hand on your shoulder.

"It does matter! You said it yourself. Stay with us."

You pause, your emotions conflicting within you. Finally, you admit, "I don't really have much choice anyway."

Vash's eyes flutter open, adjusting to the daylight that's already warming up the car. He stretches and yawns, glancing around the vehicle. "Good morning," he greets, still somewhat groggy. His eyes dart to the front where you're driving in silence. "Where's Wolfwood?" he asks, puzzled. You remain silent, and Vash scratches his face, gradually realizing there are cuffs restraining him. His eyes widen as he sees his revolver resting on the dashboard. He lets out an exasperated groan and rubs his face. "Don't tell me you tricked us."

"Nico, always had this thing about family. We all were put through the same shit so we're family. I never understood it but he was dumb enough to think I did."

"You're quite persistent, I'll give you that," Vash remarks with a sheepish smile. You glance at him briefly in the rearview mirror.

"You're nothing like him, you know?" you comment. "You might look just like him, but I could never imagine that man smiling before I met you." Vash falls silent.

"He wasn't always like that," he says quietly.

"You would know," you reply.

"So, where are you taking me?"

"July," you say. "I haven't had the chance to update my associates yet, though."

"Is it wise to tell me that?" Vash questions.

"I figured if you were planning an escape, you'd prefer to do it now," you say. "I'd rather keel over in the sun than make a false call to Knives."

"So you've already made time for me to escape? You're quite punctual."

"I have about three weeks left to play cat and mouse with you before Knives comes looking for me."

"And Wolfwood?"

"Idiot got out to take a leak and I just drove away," you smirk. "You slept right through all his cursing."

"He didn't shoot at the car again?" Vash asks. You gesture with your thumb towards the back, and Vash turns to see the signature cross-shaped weapon in the trunk. He lets out a sigh, dropping his head.

"One last thing," you add. "I know you removed your prosthetic hand to escape the cuff before. So if you look down, you'll see a glove over your hand." Vash examines the glove. "I've wedged it into your wrist and the cuff. If you try to remove it, it will tear," you explain.

"What's to stop me from-" Vash begins.

"That glove is the last memento I have of my grandmother. Please handle it with care," you interject.

"Oh, come on!" Vash groans, covering his face with his hands. You chuckle softly from the front seat.

"Hungry?" you ask, offering him a bag. Vash accepts it, still pouting.

"Thank you," he says.

Another silent hour of driving is slowly driving Vash mad. The desire to be doing something, anything useful, gnaws at him, making his skin itch.

"Need to stop for gas," you finally break the silence, and Vash perks up as he spots a small gas station in the distance, situated in the middle of nowhere.

"Could you get me a drink?" Vash asks, flashing a sweet smile.

"You're the one who's being kidnapped, and you're asking for a drink?" you remark, raising an eyebrow.

"Pretty please?" Vash continues to smile. You pull up to the gas pump and open your car door, muttering to yourself.

"He's lucky he's so damn cute; otherwise, I might have left him tied to the back of the car hours ago," you grumble, slamming the car door. Vash watches as you open his door and grab his arm, causing him to stumble out of the car.

"Ye-eh!" he utters, and you press your finger to the cuff, unlocking the one around his flesh wrist. After closing the door, you loop the cuff around the door handle and latch it again.

"There you go. Some outdoor time, puppy," you say, patting his shoulder, before turning away.

"Woof," Vash mumbles sarcastically. From the other side, you begin filling up the car with gas and then proceed into the store.

"Welcome!" The shop clerk greets you with a smile.

Vash tugs at the handcuffs gently, their clattering noise echoing against the car. He contemplates the idea of breaking them; they couldn't be that strong, right? Surely he's stronger. With a determined stance, Vash focuses on the metal restraints, mentally preparing them for their imminent demise. Without further hesitation, he yanks on the handcuffs. Instead of breaking, as he had hoped, the car door suddenly swings open, smacking him in the face. Vash stumbles backward, clutching his nose, tears forming at the corners of his eyes. Angrily huffing away his frustration, he kicks the car door in revenge, not considering it might pull him too when it closes. After wiping his face, he looks around, relieved that no one witnessed his mishap.

However, you did see it. Attracted by the noise, you glanced over just in time to catch the hilarious moment. You wish you had recorded it; it would be perfect to show Wolfwood the next time you see him.

But then reality hits you. You won't be seeing him again. You grab a bag of chips from the shelf and continue your shopping, your clouded thoughts suddenly clearing.

Meanwhile, Vash rubs his nose one last time before glancing back at the handcuffs. His heart sinks as he realizes the glove has torn a bit. Oh no! He didn't mean for this to happen! What's he going to say to you? You'll be disappointed, and that would break his heart. Your grandmother...

Wait a minute.

You don't even have a grandmother.

Exiting the store with a plastic bag in hand, you pull the gas pump out of the car. Stepping to the other side, you peer into the bag.

"I got you some juice and chips. I hope that's..." you begin to say but trail off when you see the handcuffs - handcuffs with no hands to cuff. You mutter a curse. Just when you were trying to do something nice for him. That smooth-talking, cute smiling motherfucker.

Unfortunately for him, the unforgiving desert doesn't conceal his tracks, and they lead in the direction he ran. You jump into the car, knowing you'll catch up with him.

Sure enough, a dune over, you spot Vash sprinting for his life with Wolfwood's cross on his back. You pull up in front of him and lower the window.

"Really? The fuck were you gonna go? There's miles of nothing out here," you say.

"Hey! You started it by lying to me! You don't have a grandma!"

"I have a grandma!" You defend. "I just… Never knew her." You sigh, rubbing the tiredness from your face. "Just get back in the car. Try to escape in a more populated area next time."

Vash reluctantly concedes, realizing he doesn't have much of a choice. He opens the car's back door and tosses the cross inside. As he does, the distant sound of revving engines fills the air, drawing his attention. He listens closely, making out the sound of bandits whooping and laughing like maniacs.

"Bandits. They're attacking the store," he tells you, concern in his voice. You shake your head, leaning your arms on the window.

"So?" you reply indifferently.

"So?! We have to help them!" Vash exclaims, frustrated by your apparent lack of empathy.

"For what? Bandits take everything out here. Everyone knows the risks," you reply with a shrug. Frustrated and unwilling to wait for more of your pessimistic reasoning, Vash takes off back in the direction he came from.

"Vash! Really?!" you call after him. You sit back in the car, realizing that even if he succeeds, he'll still have nowhere else to go. You close your eyes and depress the brake pedal, shifting into drive. "God dammit."

By the time you arrive, Vash is already in the midst of the confrontation, swinging left and right, easily incapacitating the bandits. Part of you considers just watching him from the hood of the car; you expected him to have experience, but he's putting on quite the show.

From what you've seen, Vash the Stampede seems like an imbecile. But this Vash, the one with fire in his eyes, has you questioning which side of him is the real one. It also leaves you wondering why you're so mesmerized by the stark contrast between the two.

One of the bandits attempts to sneak up on Vash, wielding a pipe. With a swift flick of your wrist, your dagger pierces the bandit's shoulder. Vash turns at the screams, locking eyes with you after the bandit falls.

"You could help!" he calls out.

"Nope," you shake your head, your elbows resting on the hood. "Looks like you've got it handled." With that, Vash returns his attention to the ongoing fight.

A hand swiftly snatches your wrist, yanking it behind your back, and you hear the unmistakable click of cuffs sealing around your wrists. Startled, you snap your head toward Wolfwood.

"What the hell?! How did you get here?!" you ask, your struggles to break free intensifying. Wolfwood maneuvers you toward the back of the car, exchanging his cross for your presence, and forcefully slams the door shut.

"Nico!" you urgently press your finger to the pad, but the cuffs remain locked. "You overrode my fingerprint?! Nico! Get back here, you bastard!"

Oh, he's definitely hearing your muffled screams, and it's taking everything in him not to burst into laughter as he joins Vash. With the duo reunited the bandits flee the scene in a hurry, disappearing into the horizon.

The pair returns to the car, chatting merrily amongst themselves. "She's right here," Wolfwood announces, opening the car door and pulling you out, but you resist, tugging away from him. Vash's eyes widen in surprise.

"So, she's our captive now?" Vash inquires.

"Great, isn't it? Serves her right," Wolfwood grins.

"Prick."

"Aw, how cute. Like a pomeranian," Wolfwood teases, only for you to retaliate by kicking him in the shin. "Ow!" Wolfwood crumples.

You slink closer to Vash, who tenses up as you look up at him with big, sweet eyes. "Vashie. I've been good to you, haven't I? Please don't let Nico treat me like this. I promise to be good. Please?" you flutter your lashes.

Vash's cheeks burn crimson. He huffs, runs a hand through his hair, groans, and eventually sighs. "Let her go."

"What?!" both you and Wolfwood exclaim in unison.

You can't believe that worked.

He can't believe that worked!

"Are you insane?! She literally kidnapped you! Twice!" Wolfwood protests. "Not to mention stabbed me! Are you seriously—"

"Just unlock it," Vash insists. Wolfwood grumbles but reaches out to unlatch the cuff from one of your wrists. You swiftly pull your hands to the front, sticking your tongue out at Wolfwood.

Click.

Both of you turn, and Vash secures the other cuff to his own wrist. In silence, you examine where you and Vash are now attached.

"Oh, hell no," you declare immediately.

"The hell?"

"Look, she won't go anywhere without me, and now she won't have to. Whether I'm her captive or she's mine doesn't matter because we'll be attached," Vash says, lifting up your wrists and dangling the cuffs for emphasis.

"Absolutely not," you insist.

"What? Needle noggin, she could kill you."

"She hasn't tried to yet. I trust her," Vash responds, looking at you with a smile that makes your heart race.

Gross.

"Nico, get me the hell out of this," you demand.

"No."

"What do you mean no? You just said you were against it."

"I am against it. But it's also the only way to keep an eye on you."

"This isn't—"

"Excuse me," the store owner's voice draws all three of you to attention, and you turn toward them. They offer a warm smile. "Thank you so much for your help. I'd like to repay you with something to eat, but those bandits made off with most of my inventory."

"Oh, it's not a problem at all. But are you alright?" Vash inquires with genuine concern, making you roll your eyes.

"Yes, I'm perfectly fine, thanks to you. However, it is getting late, and the best thing I can offer you is the mattresses in the back. They may not be much, but I think they'll suffice."

"Really? That's incredibly kind of you! Thank you!" Vash beams with gratitude.

Without consulting your opinion, Vash guides, or rather drags, you through the store to a shabby back room. To your dismay, there are only two beds. That means... no. You refuse to entertain that idea.

"Get me the hell—"

"Just deal with it," Wolfwood interjects with a sigh, already claiming the bed on the right.

"You must be tired," Vash says, leading you to the other bed. Reluctantly, you follow.

"Absolutely not. You're sleeping on the floor," you declare, plopping down onto the mattress.

"What?! That's not—"

"Besides, this damn thing's too small for two people anyway. Here," you toss the pillow and blanket onto the floor. "Goodnight," you announce before reclining.

"But won't you get cold?" Vash worries, lifting the blanket back to you.

"I don't get cold," you mutter, closing your eyes. Vash concedes, not wanting to disturb you any further.

It feels as though you're enveloped in a cozy cocoon, warm, soft, and filled with a pleasant scent. You could easily get lost in this comfort.

Slowly, you open your eyes, only to find yourself shrouded in darkness. Rolling over, you notice a sliver of moonlight seeping through a small window, illuminating Wolfwood's back. As if to cruelly remind you of your situation, Vash adds a loud snore to the mix. Dammit.

You shift your attention to the cloud-like sensation you're enveloped in—red. Bright red. Project seeds? It's Vash's damn coat. That sneaky bastard! You fling it away to a corner of the bed and sit up.

"Nico," you whisper, trying not to disturb Vash's sleep. He doesn't budge. "Nico!"

"Hm?" Wolfwood mumbles, slowly rousing.

"I need to pee. Come on, let me out of this thing."

"No. Just wait until morning."

"Nico!"

Wolfwood sighs and rises slowly from the bed, trudging across the room to press his finger to the pad, releasing you.

"Be fast."

"I plan on it," you reply, slipping through the door.

The store is eerily silent, but you hurry through it, your one goal to reach the car. The sight of your car has never filled you with such elation before – freedom at last. The door squeaks as you open it and hop inside.

Finally, it's time to get the hell out of here. Hopefully the two will let their guards down in another week. You shove the key into the ignition.

"I trust her."

Vash's words make you pause. Why the fuck are you hesitating?

"I won't let anything happen to you."

Your forehead collides with the steering wheel. What's wrong with you?

The worn spring mattress creaks as you sit back down. You shift your jaw and pull the cuff back over your wrist, latching it in frustration. Grabbing the discarded coat from the corner, you lie down again. With your eyes scrunched closed, you curse yourself.

Vash smiles.

It blinks blue tonight.

The sweltering heat jolts you awake, and you curse under your breath. Is it morning already? You would've welcomed a few more moments of blissful slumber. You're so comfortable that you could almost forget the world exists.

Your tired eyes flutter open, only to be met with darkness, but it's not the familiar darkness of night. It's the darkness of fabric. You lift your gaze, taking a few moments to comprehend what you're seeing.

Vash.

He's right there in the bed next to you, holding you close as if you might vanish. His gentle yet slightly calloused fingers entwined with yours, bridging the gap between you. The cuff still binds you together, and it's his warmth that's now surrounding you, ensuring you won't succumb to the cold. He holds you with a tenderness that suggests you mean something precious to him.

But something within you rebels.

No.

You shove.

"Whu-ah-uhf!" Vash collides with the floor. "Ouch," he groans. He sits up rubbing the back of his head. "What was that for?!"

"I should be asking you that! Why the hell were you-"

"Keep it down, idiots. It's still morning," Wolfwood says entering the room. He tosses some food onto the bed at your feet.

"Nico! You'd better let me out of this fucking thing right now!" You snap.

"You know that's not gonna happen." Nico sits on the other bed tearing open a new carton of cigarettes.

"Are you kidding me?!" You snap. Something waves around in the corner of your vision. You look down to the donut Vash offers to you with a smile.

"Please, accept this token of my sorryness," he says. With a sigh you take the donut.

Driving with just one hand isn't the smartest move out here in the dunes, but the idea of letting Wolfwood take the wheel? That's a disaster waiting to happen, and you're not about to find out how that might unfold. Plus, the thought of being stuck in the backseat with Vash doesn't sound much better. You shudder at the notion that he might talk your ear off, and the idea of dislocating your wrist to escape the conversation isn't appealing either.

However, as you sit in the front seat, you notice that Vash is remarkably quiet. Wolfwood succumbed to sleep not long after hopping into the car, sparing you from his commentary on Vash's silence. But you won't complain about it either.

When you steal a sideways glance at Vash, you catch a glimpse of a subtle smile on his face, which is somewhat reassuring. Not that you'd admit to caring one way or the other.

The two of them allowed you to take the wheel, as long as you steer clear of July. Instead, you're headed toward some nameless town. Right now, your destination doesn't matter much; all you care about is finding a place with a cold beer waiting for you.

The radio drones on with some evangelical station, filling the silence between the sound of sand against the car. It's becoming tiresome, and you yearn for some music, anything to break the monotony. You ponder the idea of getting some tapes or something. Hell, even Vash's chatter would be an improvement over this drivel. Finally, you decide to take action, reaching out to switch off the radio. Vash's attention finally shifts to you.

"You okay?"

"Oh, I'm just peachy," you reply, your tone heavy with sarcasm. Surprisingly, Vash chuckles.

"Trust me this town is really great. All the people are nice and the food's amazing too. But if you need a break to stretch your legs, I'm all for it."

"No. I'm fine."

"Can I ask you something?"

"I guess."

"Why did you volunteer?"

Damn. You curse yourself for not anticipating his curiosity. After all, he's been alongside Wolfwood this entire time; there's probably nothing he doesn't know.

"It's just… it's what Knives wanted from me."

"Nai forced you?"

"No. Knives saved me and I promised him I'd do anything in return. He waited until the treatment was perfected, and I became his soldier. I… Would do anything for him."

"Does Wolfwood know this?"

"He suspects, but doesn't know the whole story," you say. "I was… Born into a trafficking ring. The day I was meant to go up for auction Knives appeared. He slaughtered them all and saved me. Conrad employed the best fighters to train me and after the treatment was complete, I was perfect. I've taken on every job Knives has ever asked me to."

"I'm sorry. I didn't realize-"

"Save it," you interrupt, cutting him off. "I'm not hung up on it or anything. Besides, I don't blame Nico either. We were all just kids anyway." Wolfwood's gaze drifts out of the window and no one mentions the absence of his snoring.

As the sky begins to paint itself with shades of orange and pink, you roll up to the town. Vash had succumbed to sleep a while ago, but even without his watchful eye, you continued driving to their destination. Like an idiot.

For a bit of gentle revenge, you tap the brakes a little too firmly as you park. Both men jolt forward and groan. "Oh, good, you're up."

"Devil woman," Wolfwood grumbles from the backseat.

"I'm starving," you mutter.

"Come on. I know the perfect place," Vash chimes in with a smile. The three of you step into the lively town, most of its residents hanging out outdoors despite the late hour. Vash moves through the town with an air of contentment, which strikes you as odd, given his bounty.

Unfortunately, the warmth isn't reciprocated by the townspeople. They glance over at you three but quickly sour. Vash remains oblivious, thankfully, but Wolfwood, always the observer, takes a moment to grasp that they're not looking at Vash.

"Are you famous around here?" he inquires of you.

"Something like that," you mutter. Vash raises his head and scans the crowd.

"You've been here before?" Vash asks.

"Once," you reply.

"We don't have to stay—"

"It's fine. They'll still take my money."

"Okay," Vash agrees. "It's just up here."

Vash leads you both around the corner, and you catch sight of the bar. Regrettably, the bounty hunters lurking outside also lock eyes with you.

"Shit," you mutter, grabbing Vash and Wolfwood, pulling them forcefully out of sight.

"Isn't that Millions Knives' favorite little hunter?!" one of the hunters calls out.

"You need to get this off me now," you demand, your voice trembling with urgency.

"What? What's the matter with-" Vash begins, but you cut him off.

"Those are bounty hunters who have spent their lives looking for Vash. They would eat him alive. Unlock it!" Vash turns stiff at your sudden grotesque choice of words, and with a harsh gulp nervously pulls at his collar.

"What's your plan?" Wolfwood asks, his eyes narrowing.

"They won't just let me go. Please, trust me!" you plead desperately. "And get Vash out of here!"

Wolfwood clenches his jaw, processing the danger as the voices that sing-song your name draw nearer. Nico sighs, finally unlocking the cuff.

"I'll find you," you promise, then swiftly retreat back around the corner, leaving the two men.

"Be careful," Vash mutters though he knows you won't hear him.

"Thought that was you!" one of them barks, swaggering toward you with a lopsided grin. "Who're your buddies?"

"Just some damn newbies that won't take a hint," you retort with a cocky edge. "I had to show 'em who's boss and sent 'em running." The bounty hunter laughs, and two more rough-looking figures join the group.

"You're right on time. The real party's just gettin' started," another one says, tossing a meaty arm over your shoulder.

"Really? Is DedRod here?" you inquire, making them erupt in raucous laughter.

"God rest his damn soul," another hunter chimes in.

Inside the bar, your popularity takes a nosedive. They all recognize you and know who you work for, and more importantly, they're well aware of the task he's given you. Their expectations are sky-high, and you realize you'll have to spin a tale of failure, even if that means it gets back to Knives.

"She said she'd nab the Typhoon! Look at her now—still empty-handed!" an old-timer, way past his prime for this gig, spits venomously onto the table.

"Yeah, yeah," you wave him off, the bar erupting into a rowdy chorus. "I've been at this, what, less than a week? How long have you been chasing that ghost? Oh right, a God damn decade! And you're still only chasing your tails." You slam back the rest of your pint, punctuating your point.

Vash and Wolfwood sit at a modest pop-up stand, their meal consumed in silence. Vash stares down into his bowl, the contents as cloudy as he feels. His fingers tighten around the utensil. "Should we have really left her back there?" Vash mumbles, his concern palpable.

"They're bounty hunters. She made the right call," Wolfwood replies firmly. "She knows them. She knows what she's doing."

"I just can't trust it," Vash adds, his worry unabated.

"It? You mean them?" Wolfwood probes.

"You saw the way they acted!" Vash retorts.

"Let it go. She'll be alright," Wolfwood reassures, his confidence unwavering.

Hours later, you stagger through the town, your senses dulled by alcohol. You managed to slip away when the others succumbed to sleep, sprawled wherever they fell. You may not know exactly where you're headed, but you do know you can't stay there. It's best to make your way back to your car; at least you can pass out there.

A hulking figure crosses your path, and a grating voice shatters your blurry thoughts, "What do we have here?" With half-lidded eyes, you meet the man's gaze.

"Move," you slur, attempting to assert yourself.

"Seems like you've had a bit too much to drink. Why don't you come with me? I'll take care of you," the man leers.

"Fuck off. I won't tell you again," you manage to say, trying to sidestep him, but he seizes your arm, yanking you back.

"Don't be like that. I'm just trying to help you," he persists, pulling you closer and grabbing your waist. "Promise I'll be gentle."

"Get the hell away!" You attempt to push him off, but you're drained of strength.

Help... Help... Va-

"Let her go," a chilling voice pierces the night, freezing your heart. "Now!" That signature revolver is now inches from the man's head.

"There's no need for that. You see, my girlfriend here just gets a little feisty after a few drinks," the man smirks.

"I said," Vash cocks back the hammer. "Let her go." Seeing his inevitable defeat, the man releases you with his hands raised. Vash takes your elbow with gentle fingers, his entire demeanor shifting when he looks at you. His blue eyes convey care and concern.

"You okay?" he asks, his presence feeling like a lifeline.

"You're here," you murmur in awe. In this moment, Vash appears as an angel in your eyes. He smiles before turning his attention back to the man, his sweet face now wearing a scowl you've never seen before, almost making him look like—

"Beat it," Vash orders, and the man grumbles as he walks away. Vash lowers his gun and holsters it, returning his full focus to you. "Are you sure you're okay?"

You step closer, burying your face in his chest, fingers gripping his shirt. His scent envelops you, his warmth seeping through your skin. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat pulses through you, comforting you. "Vash."

"What is it?" His hands find your shoulders.

"Vash," you repeat, his name a mantra on your lips. He's here. He came.

Vash tenderly cups your cheeks, tilting your face up. "I'm right here."

"Promise me you won't leave," you implore, your eyes revealing what you can't put into words. It's the fear of losing something you've grown to care for, a fear he knows all too well.

Vash blinks in surprise, taken aback by your request. But nonetheless, he won't refuse. "I promise," Vash assures, as his hand cradles the back of your head, holding you close. "I'll never leave your side."

Wolfwood rounds the corner, spotting the unmistakable red coat. Vash walks down the deserted street, you safely in his embrace. Wolfwood joins you both halfway.

"What the hell happened? I turned around, and you were gone," Wolfwood says, glancing down at you, fast asleep.

"I just... heard her."

"Is she okay?"

"She's fine. Just needs some rest."

"I hear that," Wolfwood says.

Still blue tonight.

THIS IS NOT THE END!

Click the AO3 link to read the full fic!

Thank you ❤

#vash x reader #vash the stampede x reader #trigun fanfiction

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anysin · 3 months

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Fic: I Can't Wait To Know You

For @knownoevil, a JonElias with a first time conversation alone! Took a liberal route with this one but I hope you'll enjoy, a pre-canon dream encounter. Mostly SFW but with canon-typical creepery.

I Can't Wait To Know You

The dream takes Elias to a door.

He can sense the Web's presence instantly, which makes him a bit cautious; the Eye won't lead him into a dream that has the potential of harming him, but one must always be wary around the Spider. The door is urging him to knock, but instead Elias opens it, and steps inside to see what is waiting for him.

The room is covered in blood, fresh and old both, and whatever creature dwells in this place is out of sight now. Instead, Jonah sees its victim, wrapped all over in spider web, leaving only his eyes exposed. A man, a young one, is struggling against his sticky bindings, desperately trying to open his mouth to breathe or scream, or maybe both, and this is the person the Eye wants Elias to meet. Elias stands still, waiting until those panicked eyes flicker in his direction.

Interestingly enough, the man goes quiet at his presence, starting to stare at him. Elias meets his eyes, closing the door behind him before starting to approach the man. The dream makes his every move slow and drowsy, making it hard to proceed quickly, but at last he is standing next to the man, never once having broken the eye contact between them. The man is still, just staring up at him, not even blinking. It's as if Elias's appearance has made him forget his predicament, that he's in a nightmare.

They both jump when something scratches the door behind them, lightly first, but soon with vigor. The curiosity in the man's dark eyes gives way to fear, and he starts to writhe again. This time, he is screaming beneath the web.

"Get me out of here!" Without a thought, Elias kneels down to lift the man up into his arms.

He holds the stranger's slight body close to himself, close enough to feel his frightened heartbeat, hear his ragged breathing. And the man is breathing, unlike before; Elias can feel the man squirming in his embrace, the web slowly coming loose around him, even losing its stickiness. The dream is changing. Elias stands up, holding the man against his chest as the man frees first one arm, then the other, and as their surroundings shift, the man throws his arms around Elias's neck.

"Thank you," the man mutters, pressing his face into Elias's neck. "Thank you thank you thank you-"

Elias glances around him. They seem to be in some kind of a flat now, a slightly messy one that is full of cat hair, but it's obviously a familiar place of comfort for his companion. The web is entirely gone now, leaving the man naked in Elias's arms; despite his curiosity, Elias tries not to gaze at his body, and instead tries to get a look at the man's face instead. The man is leaning his forehead against Elias's shoulder, his hair falling into his face. He is breathing deeply in and out, his whole body shuddering along with his breaths.

"Thank you," the man says, and finally he looks up at Elias. His eyes are wet, wet and full of exhaustion, but he's smiling.

And Elias is struck by need.

"Who are you?" he asks, but the dream shifts again.

This time, Elias finds himself alone in the Panopticon; his body still feels warm from where the man pressed up against him, and his heart is racing as if he's been running. He sees the corpse of Jonah Magnus, whose lids are wide open, and glowing light fills the empty sockets on his face. He is staring up at the ceiling, where Elias knows the Eye is looking down on them, waiting.

"Tell me," he demands. He frowns at the sound of his own voice, but he turns his face upward. "Tell me who he is!"

He doesn't even get a chance to see his god before he wakes up.

Alone in his bedroom, Elias's body is cool all over, but his heart still beats fast. He sits up, resting his hand over his chest, to that wild beat, and concentrates on his breathing until the throb beneath his palm is calm again.

He knows the Eye has introduced him to this man for a reason, but while Elias is always curious about the whys, that reason is, at the moment, irrelevant to him. He just hopes that the Eye will bring the man to him sooner rather than later, that they can meet in flesh.

And hopefully not just once.

#the magnus archives #my fic #jon x elias #jonelias

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bonny-kookoo · 2 years

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Jungkook: Deep Breath (8)

In which you learn what it's like to be his chosen mate.

Tags/warnings: Alien!Jungkook part 9643 I guess, human!Reader, futuristic, Angst, Fluff, strangers to lovers, eventual smut, jungkook is VERY touchy, Alien shenanigans and scary human things

Additional Chapter Warnings: low-key clingy JK, the cutest alien boyfriend

Chapter Length: short/mid

<- Previous | Next ->

Ever since confessing, a switch had been flipped with Jungkook, or so it seems.

He's no longer shy, doesn't bother hiding his face, seeks your attention at any chance he gets. He's attached to you now it seems- always offering to help, eyes sparkling during any conversation you're having. However, it seems like he's holding something back- and right now, late at night as the movie you've watched ends, you feel like it's the right time to ask. You're comfortably laying in his arms, one of his hands softly running circles over the skin of your hand, as you turn to sit up, looking at him.

"there's something I wanted to ask you these days." you say, and he nods, turning off the TV before he sits up properly as well, facing you. "is there something you're not telling me?" you ask, and his brows furrow as he leans his head to the side a bit in question.

"no?" he wonders, now a bit nervous. "why do you ask?"

"I just.. It always feels like you want to ask me something whenever we go to bed, but you don't." you say, and that seems to hit a nerve, as his eyes suddenly avoid you, gaze lowering as his fingers begin to play with the string of his sweatpants. "Koo.. We're a couple now, right?" you ask, and he nods, though he's still squirming.

"I just.. Don't know how to move forward now." he admits, shrugging his shoulders in defeat. "Like.. I read online that you're supposed to kiss when you confess but we didn't and now it feels like I missed the chance.. And, I want you to sleep next to me at night but it's said online that-" he gets cut off by your fingers touching his lips, a smile on yours as you look at his slightly shy face.

"why do you obsess over what others say so much?" you wonder, and he sighs.

"I don't want you to feel uncomfortable with me." he admits. "I'm worried that the differences in culture and all of that might become a problem." he says softly, before you scoot forwards to hug him.

"Culture is to be shared, not judged." you hum towards him, as his arms wrap around you. "and a relationship is a journey on which you'll get to learn about each other. But we need to talk about this stuff before we can try to take steps. Otherwise we're gonna end up going different roads, and then we'll loose sight of each other." you tell him, and he nods, as you sit in front of each other again.

His eyes find your lips fairly easily, one look all it takes before you lean into him, placing a soft kiss to his own. His eyes close almost instantly, the gesture something he'd thought about for way too long now; and it's better than he could've ever imagined it to be.

"can you.. Will you sleep next to me tonight?" he asks, and you nod. It takes him a second before he realizes you've agreed, eyes suddenly wide as he scrambles to get up. You laugh.

"what's wrong now?" you giggle, when he takes all the blankets and pillows from the couch, before running into his room.

"I have to make a proper nest!" he yells from his room, noticing your steps. "no no no don't come in yet!" he panics, and so you agree to stay outside, sitting next to his door against the wall while he does his thing. It takes him quite a while it seems, and he looks rather sheepish as he walks out to get you now. "I- it's not that great-" he starts, though he notices you asleep already, his demeanor relaxing as he leans down to pick you up.

He's glad you've both gotten ready for bed prior to the movie you'd watched- because now he can comfortably place you right in his bed between all the pillows and blankets, before crawling in himself, pulling you close to him.

You're finally right where you belong, in his opinion. You're right here, where he can hold you, all throughout the night.

Just how it's supposed to be.

#jungkook imagine #bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #deep breath au #alien jungkook #alien!jungkook

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latelyanobsession · 2 years

Text

Crashing with Ghosts

summary on a dare billy's hauled you out to the old farley bros. farmstead just south of the roane county line. billy's got the camaro trunk packed and a cooler brimming with brewskis. this'll be the easiest couple hundred bucks he's made in a long time. stay the night in some rundown farmhouse? easy. and with you to keep him occupied? even easier. but will you last the night? you know all about this creepy place and when strange things start happening during your stay you can't help but get frazzled. but will billy believe it? or will you be stuck in this spooky predicament til sunrise with someone completely clueless to the supernatural?

warnings cursing, underage drinking, trespassing on private property, breaking and entering, smut, generic teenage shenanigans, supernatural phenomenon, fright and fear, descriptions of past violent acts

word count 5,049

note entry for @sparklingsin's spookinktobter writing challenge. loosely modeled after one of my favorite spooky time films, The Ghost and Mr. Chicken (1966).

included prompts:

car doesn’t start

“i dare you to go down there.”

trapped in a haunted house

“be brave for me, baby.”

praise kink

dirty talk

As always any feedback is much appreciated. Thanks for reading!

He said that he was taking you out for the weekend.

"On Halloween?" you asked.

He nodded smugly, taking the pillows from your hands and placing it in the trunk.

"Where are we going?" you pushed curiously, eyeing the sleeping bag, but no tent.

The Igloo cooler in the back seat. A loose convenience store bag of snacks next to it.

It couldn't be camping. Could it?

"You'll see," he said vaguely as you both got into the camaro, the engine starting, headlights flicking to life.

The drive was much longer than you expected.

It was far too dark to tell which direction he was taking you in, and these county roads were notorious for being poorly marked.

You had little idea where you were. But you knew that you had left Hawkins behind well over half an hour ago.

"Are you taking me to Timbuktu?" you mused impatiently, fingers tapping along the car windowsill.

He drummed his fingers along to the cassette he'd selected, eyes shooting over at you in a thinly veiled warning.

"We're almost there... Be patient." he hummed, the car slowing up to a dirt drive.

He pulled in. The gravel kicking up under the tires, clouds of dust forming large wakes as he sped down the road.

Pulling around a large bend, you finally saw a structure at the top of the rise.

You recognized it instantly but hoped your eyes were lying to you as the camaro pulled up to the overgrown lawn. A weathered sign at the edge of the yard dangling by one remaining hook.

FARLEY BROS. FARMS

— EST. 1894 —

"Billy why...?" you whined pitifully, your stomach flipping as the farmhouse came into full view.

"Two hundred bucks." he stated simply, "one night stay..."

"And maybe a little fun in between..." he looked over at you, tongue caught between his teeth in a sly grin as he shifted into park.

You eyed him anxiously, eyes flitting back out the windshield.

The house's peeling white paint glowing eerily in the moonlight. Its sagging porch beams reaching out to greet you.

You remembered the Farley Bros. farmstead, and not fondly.

You were out here once before with Betsy Pendergast when you were 12 years old on a soft June afternoon.

Betsy wanted to see if all the things that Larry Atwater had said about this place during lunch were true. And well... you couldn't just let her come all this way out here by herself.

It took you both nearly the whole afternoon to ride your bikes out this way. Having a small picnic and respite under the lopsided sycamore tree in the Farley's front yard before beginning.

Once you finally got inside the house with Betsy...? You saw all you needed to see. And you both ran, something tripping you up on your way out the door. You didn't look back to find out, but it felt like something was trying to grab you.

And keep you.

Billy tapped on the passenger's side window startling you. "Get your ass out and help me will ya?" he muttered, wandering back to the trunk.

You took a deep breath, hand on the door handle, you got out.

"Billy I don't think this is a good idea..." you reasoned, blocking the cooler so he couldn't move it.

He raised an eyebrow, "Oh no...?" he shouldered you aside and shoved the cooler into your arms.

"You think Old McDonald is still around?" he mocked, laughing.

"Billy... it's not funny." you stamped your foot a bit, dust kicking up underfoot as you followed him to the trunk.

Pulling out your packs, he strapped his on, and held yours out. Still fishing around for last minute items.

"Don't worry, no hick ghost's gonna get my girl..." he chuckled.

Slipping the straps reluctantly over your shoulders you secured your belongings.

"Billy please..." you pleaded, "this place... its...—". You didn't want to say it. You would sound so stupid if you said it.

"Haunted?" Billy finished, coming out of the trunk, flashlight eerily illuminating his face.

You shoved him.

"Stop it." you pouted.

"No?... No really. You believe that shit?" he pressed, wrapping his arms around you after shutting the trunk.

You cast your gaze to the ground. Avoiding answering.

"Hey..." he cooed, voice low and throaty.

You peeked up at him.

He smiled, teeth glinting.

"Be brave for me baby." he encouraged, stroking his hands up your arms.

You took another deep breath.

"Ok." you nodded, picking up the food and him the cooler.

Walking up the front stoop, you picked your way across the broken porch beams, the wood creaking under your feet as you made your way to the door.

Placing his hand on the knob, Billy turned and pushed.

The door didn't budge.

"Oh what a shame. It's locked?" you whined sarcastically, peering over his shoulder.

He tried again, giving the door a hefty shove.

Nothing.

"Guess we can't get in..." you prattled aloud, turning on your heels to leave.

He scruffed you, dragging you back by the collar of your jacket.

"Just means we gotta try another way..." he mused, hand heavily patting your shoulder.

You huffed in discontent.

He directed the both of you a few steps away down the side of the porch to look for a new way in when,

Creeeeeaaaaaak.

The front door opened.

You both exchanged a look.

He motioned for you to go first with a nod of his head.

You shook your head vigorously in response.

Over your dead body would you be the first one crossing that threshold.

Rollings his eyes, he hooked his hands under your armpits, wheeling you back towards the door.

"Billy, no!" you protested in the sharpest whisper you could muster, heels digging in for any support you could find.

Reaching the doorstep, you protectively threw your hands up as he thrust you towards your fate.

BAM!

The door slammed closed as you crashed against it.

"Damn...." Billy breathed in disappointment, "So close."

"Asshole." you grunted, crumpling to the ground.

Billy offered his hand, helping you up.

"Well I guess that way's out..." he commented dryly.

"Ya think?" you replied snidely.

He pursed his lips, shining his flashlight around, "What about that?"

You followed his beam to the edge of the porch. There was a set of steps leading around the side of the house.

Walking with him to the edge of the porch you found the steps led around to the yard... And down to a bulkhead.

Billy nudged the rusty padlock on the cellar doors with the toe of his boot. "This should break pretty easy..." he reasoned.

"Billy that's breaking and entering..." you reprimanded him.

"Nobody has lived here for like what... 50 years...? Would you relax." he criticized.

Bringing his heel down harshly, the old lock crumbled to pieces.

"Like I said... easy." Billy stated, lifting one door and then the other. The hinges groaning as they pivoted on their pins.

Shining the flashlight, the beams got caught up in swirling plumes of dust and thick curtains of spider's webs, not exposed to open air for decades.

"I dare you to go down there," Billy taunted, patting some dust off on his jeans.

"Why me?" you whined, eyes searching the dark for any sign of a workable light switch.

"You're a lady aren't you…?" Billy teased.

"I'm a coward first..." you stated. You weren't proud.

Looking around Billy spotted a splintered broom at the corner of the porch. He shoved it into your arms.

"Clear out the webs so we can get on with this will you?" he pressed a hand to the small of your back, ushering you towards the stairs below.

Gripping the broomstick tight, fractured wood digging into your palms you swatted away what you could reach, as Billy shined his light for you.

Leaning the broom against a nearby wall you came back to the stairs. "I think it's all good..." you called.

Billy tossed the sleeping bag at you, climbing down.

Handing you your flashlight, he looked around. "Yeah, probably as good as it gets from here..."

The basement was cramped.

Old leather trunks, crates, and various pieces of furniture were scattered throughout the space.

Underneath the sole window in the room, shoved against the fading brick, was a dusty workbench. Covered in tarnished hand tools from a bygone era.

"Do you see a switch anywhere?" Billy asked, sorting through some boxes on a shelf.

"Billy, I don't know if they had electricity... there weren't any power poles outside..." you swept your light across the walls hoping you were wrong.

"Score!" he called out.

"You found a switch?" you answered hopefully.

Coming up next to you with a large grin, he held up a musty bottle.

"Better. I found the old man's stash." he said triumphantly.

"Billy that shit will turn your insides out." you warned, finding the staircase.

He chuckled, tucking it under his arm. "These things only get better with age babe."

You shouldered the door open at the top of the stairs, pieces splintering off the bottom as it finally gave way.

You entered the kitchen.

You stilled, those memories hitting you. A chill settling under your skin as your eyes settled on the kitchen table.

It was still set. Empty plates and glasses waiting for a meal that would never be had.

"Are you coming?" Billy hollered at you from around the corner.

You jumped, turning to follow him into the parlor.

He was setting his things down, unpacking.

He saw the look on your face.

"What, you wanna go upstairs instead?" he pointed at the ceiling.

You shook your head furiously. You knew what happened upstairs.

The parlor was bad but the second floor was worse. You would have to make do.

Placing your pack on the floor your eyes met the broad sweeping brush strokes of burnished red color tinging the floorboards. Faded and oxidized but still recognizable for what it was.

Blood.

"Babe c'mon..." Billy complained, pulling you from your thoughts.

You laid down the foam sleeping pad as Billy shook out the sleeping bag on top of it. Quickly setting the pillows and blanket on as well.

The set up was modest, but it was typical of what you'd come to expect from Billy as he lifted the lid off the cooler and cracked a beer offering it to you after taking the first sip.

With a small huff you took the bottle and took a couple generous swigs as Billy opened his own. Tapping the neck of his bottle against yours he took a large gulp.

"So what's the deal with this place?" he asked, eyes wandering curiously as his eyes took in the floor for the first time.

"This place sure has all the locals worked up..." he started following the wide blood trail across the room, stopping in front of the Steinway piano.

He leaned in close, shining his flashlight on the keys. Bloody fingerprints stained and dancing across the ivories.

"It's even got you uptight..." he continued.

You watched him cautiously from your place. Not moving an inch, worried that even breathing could set off some evil chain reaction in this place.

"He killed his whole family...." you stated. Billy tilting his head up to look at you from the piano.

"Can you come back here.... please?" you asked, wrapping your arms around yourself.

He smirked softly, returning to you. "You scared?" he questioned, pulling you into his arms and kissing your temple.

"I hate this house." you complained.

"You could definitely hate it a little less..." he reasoned, a hand drawing small circles on your back, as he took another drink from his beer.

"Not possible." you whined, burrowing your face into his chest.

"I bet you could" he drawled, hooking a finger under your chin and drawing your eyes up to meet his.

You shook your head stubbornly.

"Do you want to try?”, he challenged, “For me?", finishing his drink and dropping the bottle to the wayside.

Your gaze didn't waver from his. Eyes locked and drowning under his prolonged stare. The firmness of his grasp grounding and comforting.

"I need an answer baby girl..." he teased, thumb running over the swell of your bottom lip.

"Yeah..." you breathed timidly.

He didn't hesitate. Capturing your lips in a searing kiss, knocking the bottle from your hand. Its contents spilling out across the floor.

Drawing you in close, he wrapped his hands in your jacket, ripping it from your shoulders.

Walking you backward, he lowered you onto the sleeping bag.

"Billy, it's cold." you whined.

"I know baby." he cooed, prying at the hem of your shirt. Lifting up and exposing your skin to the stale air. "I'll warm you up, don't worry about it..."

Rucking the material up higher, a chill ran up your spine as he pulled the shirt over your head.

Wrapping your hands in the cotton clinging to his chest, you pushed it feebly up and off his torso as he flicked the clasp on your jeans open, slipping you out of them. Your shoes tossed away haphazardly.

“You’re going too fast…” you criticized, fingers fumbling with his belt buckle.

“Catch up baby girl. You can do it…” he encouraged, picking up your beer and taking a long drink.

Lip pulled between your teeth in concentration, you focused. Fingers prying at the leather and pulling the latch free.

Finally.

A small smile of satisfaction as you nimbly unclasped his jeans, thumb and forefinger driving the zipper down. Hand reaching forward.

“Wait…” he tutted, tongue clicking in light condemnation.

You pouted, sad puppy eyes watching his expression for further instruction.

Finishing your beer he chuckled, tossing it carelessly.

“Don’t give me that look… you’ll like this. A lot.” He mocked you.

“On your side…” he instructed.

Giving a sharp exhale of annoyance, you positioned yourself, hips angled within his reach gaze, still fixed up at him.

“Good girl…” he petted your cheek softly, as he kicked off his boots, sliding out of his jeans, cock springing up to its full potential.

Wrapping a hand around himself, he leisurely pumped his hand across his growing length. Pausing at the turgid head, his thumb gathering up the precum escaping from its tip.

Painting your lips with it.

Instinctively you shot your tongue out, gliding it along your lip to taste the new gloss.

Closing the space between you, Billy stroked a finger along the underside of your cheekbone, the crown of his dick weighing lightly against your lips.

“C’mon pretty girl… show me what you’ve got.” he taunted as your lips parted.

You hummed softly at the feeling of his hefty member pressing against your tongue and filling your mouth. His breath sharp and catching as a hand entangled itself in your hair, pressing you forward and pushing himself deeper inside the cavern of your mouth.

“Ohhh that’s a good girl…” he rasped, tossing his head back with a shudder as his grip held you in place allowing him to thrust at his own pace into your slackening throat.

His thrusts were long and languid.

Drawing blood to his throbbing cock, muscle tightening and head swelling as you brushed your tongue flat against him on each outward stroke.

Breathing out to cheat your gag reflex each time he’d push further back and hold you there.

Your nose nearly touching his pelvis, his thighs trembling slightly as he pulled you back with a shaky, “Fuuuck, baby.” falling from his lips.

Bending down he ravished you. Lips hungrily crashing against yours as he pinned you down to the blankets.

Knocking your legs apart with his knees, he pushed his way in between them. Running a palm flat across the mound of your sex he looked up at you smugly, a thumb dipping between your folds. Flicking at that bundle of nerves growing more sensitive by the minute.

Your hips rolled as you lifted your head to look at him.

“I’m going to fuck you senseless…” he purred, “make you so dumb for my cock you’re not even gonna care where you are…”

He drew back and spat heavily on your core, fingers gathering the saliva and dragging them down through your already wetting folds.

“You wanna be fucked dumb baby?” he smirked, voice sweet and thumb running circles around your core. Teasingly pressing at your entrance but never delving inside.

“Yes.” you whined, hips shifting into his grasp.

“Such a nasty little girl…” he observed as you groaned, his middle finger finding its way inside you.

Ducking his head, his lips attached themselves to your mound. Sloppy kisses giving way to harsh, audible lapping as his tongue found its target. Your hips jerking under his heavy-handling.

His broad shoulders splaying your legs apart, he continued his assault. A second finger having snuck its way past your defenses, curling and pumping in tandem with the firm strokes of his tongue against your clit.

You could feel the tension building. The heated coil in the pit of your stomach winding. It wouldn’t be much longer.

“Billy I’m getting …. -” you whimpered, hips rutting against his tongue desperately.

BAM!

The loud thud came from the floor directly above you. Some dust shaking loose off the ceiling light fixture.

You both paused, waiting for more stirrings.

Silence settled back into the house.

You were beginning to look slightly panicked, as Billy curled his fingers harshly up against your upper walls calling your attention back to him.

“Hey…” he commanded sternly.

You met his azure stare, brows furrowed in concern.

“You’re ok baby. It’s an old house, some plaster probably fell or somethin…” he reasoned, fingers scissoring your channel wide.

“Relax baby…” you nodded shakily, laying back down as Billy’s tongue resumed its place. Wrapping around your bud and suckling. Fingers stroking heavily at the pad of flesh that made your toes curl.

“Billy….” you mewled softly, hand fisting in his curls as the heat grew. The edge was imminent. One more touch and you’d be falling to pieces.

Your pleas hitting his ears Billy’s pace was reaching a feverish pitch, his attentions becoming rough and demanding. Sloppy and gruff, as his teeth scraped and pulled at the hood protecting that pulsing and swollen nerve center from him.

You cried out, hips jutting involuntarily. Walls tightening around his fingers, threatening to snap them, as you fell apart.

“That’s it baby…such a good girl.” he encouraged. “But we’re not done…”

Letting you take a moment to catch your breath, he gave your ass a playful slap.

“Up baby.” he stated.

You nodded, rolling over, propping yourself up on your knees and elbows.

Billy gave a deep hum of appreciation, a hand coming down on your ass sharply.

“Gonna fuck this pussy until you scream my name.” he stated, with another smack.

Squaring up behind you, he teased his cock between your folds. Dousing himself in your slick.

Leaning flush over your back he leaned in close to your ear, “Gonna fuck your pussy raw baby… you better keep your focus on me.”

You whined, head lolling forward as he pushed himself inside of you. Sliding home and creating a sharp sting that ran up the base of your spine.

Pulling you close, Billy rocked himself into your tight heat.

“Fuck baby you’re always so good. So ready for me to fuck you. Take you like my personal fuck toy….” he droned, cock dragging out and rhythmically pressing back into you in deep slow strokes.

Still riding the aftershocks of your first climax, your fingers dug into the blanket. Each deep stroke of his cock sending tingling shockwaves through you and making you quiver.

“Billy….” you moaned out brokenly, eyes glassy.

“Yeah baby?” he groaned, with a short snap of his hips. Earning him a high yip from your lips. “You know where we are, baby? Still scared?”

You blinked, brain a bit hazy but far from useless. You knew exactly where you were. And you still hated this house.

Lowering down off your elbows you raised your ass up higher, peering over your shoulder at him.

He raised an eyebrow at you. “That so huh?” The remainder of the conversation going unspoken, as he drove into you harder. Faster. Hands gripping your hips roughly.

You keened loudly. Eyes snapping shut as his cock rammed your cervix.

“How’s that baby?” he pressed, curling himself over your form. Increasing his pace.

“Yes Billy!” you whined loudly, head snapping back against your shoulders.

His hand wrapped itself in your hair, pulling your head back, giving him greater purchase as he slammed his hips into yours. Pistoning himself in and out of you in a manner that was beginning to feel overwhelming.

His other hand was tucked around your waist. Snaking between your folds, rubbing at your clit.

You nearly sobbed, the pleasure overloading and clouding your thoughts.

“Baby where are you…?” Billy asked, thrusts not dropping for a moment.

You couldn’t answer. You weren’t even sure if you knew anymore. You just didn’t want him to stop.

“Baby…?” he drawled out in the lowest tone, “tell me…”

“D-dunno…” was all you could muster in between high rolling mewls and harsh broken moans.

Your body was trembling, muscles warning you of your impending climax, as that coil rewound itself. The pressure building up higher and higher.

“Billy… ‘m close!” you simpered pathetically, hips pressing back to meet his thrusts.

He growled deeply, index finger pressing circles harshly into your clit as he pushed his cock in to the hilt.

“Cum on my cock baby. Milk my cock…”

You fell apart, keening. Voice nearly cutting short.

Billy letting go of his grip on your hair to stabilize himself. Hand pressed to the ground above your head. Knuckles turning white, as he wrapped himself over top of you.

Buckling as your walls ebbed and contracted around him.

“Fuckin shit baby….” he rasped, thrusts faltering. Coming in short, remaining seated deep within you as he tumbled off his own ledge. His cock twitching as thick spurts of cum filled you.

You both collapsed, taking a moment to gather your breath before parting.

“You want another beer?” Billy offered.

You rolled over to look at him, still not quite able to speak. You shook your head.

Not yet.

Blinking slowly, tiredly. You rubbed at your eyes, as Billy got up finding all your discarded clothing.

Dropping your clothing near you, he got dressed.

“Gotta take a piss…” he said, zipping up his jeans. “Be right back.”

Taking deep breaths you slowly drifted back down to earth. And reality. The cold and dampness of the room twinging your skin.

Grabbing your clothes you got dressed hurriedly, hoping to shrug off the shivers continuously running up your spine.

Nearly done, shirt in hand you were about to pull it over your head when a cold hand raked itself down the nape of your neck. You wiggled uncomfortably. Whining childishly.

“Billy, it's not funny anymore…” you pouted.

“What’s not funny?” Billy answered, coming around the corner on the opposite side of the room.

You swallowed, turning slowly on your heels to look behind you.

Nothing.

You laughed nervously, “Maybe I will have another beer…”

Billy already had another one cracked, and a bag of Lays opened.

You took a long drink, nearly downing the whole bottle in one go.

“Woah, slow the fuck down!” Billy cautioned. “There’s plenty more…”

That’s not what you were concerned about.

Billy’s watch chirped.

12:00 AM.

Just then the piano started up. A steady jolly tune emanating from its frame.

The keys were dancing. Moving up and down. Shifting notes of their own accord, all without a player at the bench.

Each key marked in blood, sounding.

Your skin was pricked from head to toe in goosebumps. Your heart was thundering so loudly, you worried it might break free from your chest. You felt faint.

“What the fuck?” Billy exclaimed in disbelief.

“Billy I wanna leave… Now!” you begged.

Billy couldn’t believe his eyes, the tune coming to a crescendo as a vase rose off the end table and flew past him. Smashing into the wall.

“Maybe you’re right…” he muttered, ushering you out to the hallway.

You grabbed onto the back door and pulled. It wouldn’t budge. You shoved frantically, shoulder pressed against the wood, lifting the handle and twisting.

“Billy the door is locked!” you nearly yelled.

Stepping aside, you let him try. Sweat beginning to bead on his forehead as his grip slipped off the handle. A foot wedged against the wall as he tried again to wrench it open.

“What the hell is going on?!” he yelled, looking at you. Panic was beginning to rise in his voice.

“I told you, this place… It’s ––”

THUD. SHHHHHHHP. THUD. THUD.

Footsteps. Heavy. And the intermittent drop of something along with it. Something weighty. Something ominous.

“Billy we gotta get outta here!” you pushed, running to the dining room and tugging at a window pane. They were nailed shut.

“Move!” Billy shouted, kicking a thick boot at the glass. The window shattered.

Wrapping his hand in his denim jacket he smashed out the rest of the shards, handing you the denim.

“Start the car!” he instructed as he helped you through the sill first and onto the porch.

Tumbling out, you reached back for him only to have his hands pulled out of your grasp.

“Billy!” you screamed, as he disappeared back inside the house.

“The car!” you heard him yell from inside.

Jumping off the porch you ran down the drive to the camaro, throwing open the door and jamming the key into the ignition.

Brrrr Putt Putt Putt Brrrr

The engine sputtered and whirred, headlights flickering.

“C’mon dammit…” you pled, eyes flitting from the dash to the house and back.

The car continued to whine before completely puttering out.

“Son of a bitch!” you raged, hands beating the steering wheel.

Falling out of the car, you ran back towards the house.

You had to get him out of there. Even if you couldn’t get off the property.

You looked around, eyes spotting the old garden shed.

You kicked the door in, looking for anything helpful.

Grabbing a shovel. A remaining can of kerosene and some rags, you ran.

You returned through the broken window.

“Billy?!” you yelled.

The house was silent.

SCHWING!

You barely saw the glint of dull metal, ducking under the dining room table as an ax blade impacted the wall above you.

CRACK!

You screamed. The table absorbing a blow directly above your head.

CRACK CRACK!

The table was buckling, the woodgrain splitting under the abuse. You couldn’t hide here much longer.

WHAM!

The table split. Exposing you.

A large ghastly figure looming tall above you. You didn’t need to guess who it was you already knew.

It was Wilbur Farley. The man who killed his own brother. Who killed his entire family on August 12, 1938.

He was caked in blood. His face disfigured and gnarled by the self-inflicted wound he had imposed upon himself to remove himself from the world of the living and into the next.

Hands wrapping tightly around the ax handle, he swung it back, raising it high. Ready to deal your coup de grace.

Tears were streaming down your cheeks, as you gripped the shovel in your hands, lifting it as your last means of defense.

“Hey dipshit!” Billy slurred, stumbling into the room. “I wasn’t done with you yet…”

“Billy!” you sobbed in relief, eyes washing over his battered form.

Spitting the blood from his mouth, Billy dug his feet into the floor. Hands splayed wide. Stance ready.

“Come get me fucker.” he taunted.

Running straight at him, Wilbur Farley hit Billy dead on. Pushing him back through the room like a linebacker on a 4th down play. Billy’s feet scrambling for purchase on the dust covered rug and finding none.

His hands wrapped around Farley’s ax, Billy grappled with the monster. Being flung against the wall, his head denting the plaster as he slumped to the floor.

Running to Billy’s side you shook him. He was out cold.

Setting down the kerosene, you wielded the shovel.

“Hey ugly!” you yelled, grabbing the monster’s attention. “You ever fight fair, or have you always been a pussy?”

Farley tilted his head as if he was contemplating you insult, before he took a giant running swing at you.

You jumped back, slamming the ax down with your shovel and slicing up. Ramming him in the face with the shovel’s blade.

It sent him reeling backwards. Stunned. But not for long.

He was angry now.

Rushing you, he hit you square in the chest with the blunt side of the ax before you could react. You fell flat on your back gasping for air, the shovel thrown far from your grasp.

Reaching. Clutching. Grasping for anything you could put your hands on you felt the floor.

Nothing.

You were going to die.

Click.

“You really shouldn’t pick on girls…” Billy’s voice drawled out. “They got a funny way of getting even with you…”

Click.

He had lit a rag… dipped into the kerosene canister.

“Get your ass up…” he urged, as you clamored to your feet and ran.

Billy threw the tin, Farley catching it. Looking confused as the kerosene tipped out onto the rag, igniting.

Running to the dining room you jumped out the window, Billy finally climbing out after you, as you both flew down the path to the camaro. The windows to the hows blowing out with flames as the house became progressively engulfed.

Getting into the driver’s seat, Billy turned the keys the car whining. “C’mon baby you can do it….” he murmured.

The car whined and sputtered, whirring.

“C’mon baby….” he continued.

The engine turned over. Sparking to life.

“That’s a good girl.” he praised, pleasantly patting the dashboard.

You couldn’t believe it.

Billy looked at you, “What, you wanna stay and catch a charge?”

“No,” you pouted, coming around and sinking into the passenger’s seat.

The drive back to Hawkins was quiet.

“Billy?” you asked.

“Yeah?” he replied.

“Next year we’re watching a movie or I’ll kill you myself…” you mentioned.

“Deal” he snickered.

#strangertober #spookinktober writing challenge #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove #billy hargrove fanfiction #stranger things x reader #billy hargrove smut #billy hargrove oneshot

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remyfire · 9 months

Note

18. Religious guilt/sinning do it. write that trapcahy fic. i dare you

(we are in full IS THIS ANYTHING territory, and I'm still not convinced it is, but I wrote 5,000 words, so I MIGHT AS WELL POST IT. I hope there's something in it to enjoy!! Note to self: Maybe do not write 5,000 words about characters you're not confident in writing yet next time without doing some more character studying first—)

John steps into the mess tent just about ten minutes before the service is supposed to start, but to his amusement, the good Father's running a bit behind. His stole is hanging unevenly and the linen he's spread out on the table isn't his best one—even from this angle, John can see the frayed edge of a hem, something that Mulcahy would've noticed instantly if his mind was where it should be.

Apparently it isn't. Not that John would know anything about that.

It's not like John's been giving him eyes for a month straight or anything. Not like there's this silent but forbidden knowledge that hangs between the two of them when their gazes catch, when Mulcahy forgets to look away until he's pink-cheeked. Not like the taste of wine's ever gonna make John think of anything but how rich it was on the priest's mouth, how delicately a single drop hung from his bottom lip just before John caught it with his tongue and drank deep from that almost frightened moan.

"J-Just take a seat!" Father Mulcahy says cheerfully as he continues laying out the vessels. "I'll have everything ready in a mo—" And he cuts off at the exact second that he looks over his shoulder.

Adrenaline tastes like a lot of things depending on the situation that summons it. When he hears chopper blades, it's a little like acid. When his date's interrupted by someone pounding on the door of supply, it stings like ginger. And right now, seeing the uncertainty in the man in front of him, knowing full well how easy it is to seduce away, understanding that he's making a conscious choice to screw something up, it tastes like burnt caramel.

It'd be a lot easier to care if John hadn't been chewed up and spit out by the same monster that Mulcahy seems so reluctant to let go of.

John flashes a toothy grin. "Hiya, Father."

"Captain McIntyre." Father Mulcahy reaches to adjust his glasses as though his eyes are deceiving him. John keeps his gaze on him, watching, waiting. "I didn't expect to see you for the service this morning."

"Maybe I'm here for confession." In moments like this when John knows he's making a hurtful decision, there's a little bit more of Boston that slips into his person. It's in his saunter as he sets across the room, in the heaviness of his stare. He's a force to be reckoned with, the kind that doesn't stop when it meets an immovable object—that blasts right through. "When's the last time you confessed?"

"That's a private matter."

Interesting how clear and calm this man sounds. Could be somehow he's forgotten what occurred. Could be he's just willfully forcing himself into ignorance. Yet the closer John comes, the higher Mulcahy's chin lifts, and it's enough of a tell that John's smile widens.

Mulcahy takes a quick, sharp breath through his nose, just barely audible. "If you have a matter to confess, perhaps you can wait until after I've finished?"

"I'm not a very patient guy," John murmurs. It's not entirely correct, but the edge of the banter makes his heart flutter faster, and that keeps him advancing.

"It's a pity," Mulcahy bats right back at him. "Patience is a virtue."

John chuckles. "I'm probably the least virtuous guy you'll ever meet."

Mulcahy whips around to face him, and something about his stance brings John to an instant halt. It's as though he's armored himself, somehow, turned so suddenly into a force to be reckoned with. "Now, I-I don't think that's true. Not at all. You're one of the better men I've had the pleasure of meeting."

John's lips twitch, then settle into a thin line. His hands go loose by his sides.

"You're quite a hero to more people than you might know," Mulcahy murmurs. When John doesn't reply, he goes on. "I admire you. Respect you. In fact, for quite some time, I was very proud to call you my friend."

The past tense flickers through his mind like a light, flashing on and off. It feels like there's something thick in John's throat, and he fights to swallow it down.

Mulcahy cuts his gaze back to the table, this bastardized altar that even he can't charm something completely holy out of, and then he turns to set out the candles, the cruets. "We can talk after I'm finished, Captain McIntyre. Please sit down."

Finally John realizes precisely what it was about Mulcahy that made him freeze like that. There's something about a priest that stands taller than a 20-story building in John's head. He doesn't know if it's the stole or the collar or that fucking crucifix necklace, but just the sight of Mulcahy called to whatever young memories are drilled deep through John's skull, remembering submission, remembering fear. Things that a kid has to be taught, for better or worse.

For him, it was the worse.

But he's no kid anymore, is he? He's not that awkward gangly pup sitting on a hard bench, trying to forget what he dreamed about his best friend Ian the night before. He's not on his knees, fingering a rosary, saying his Hail Marys with half of his mind and already wondering how he's gonna sneak out his back window to find that forbidden pleasure with the other.

And Mulcahy's not the man who so coolly instructed John that joy is a sin, that chains are a blessing.

Mulcahy's wearing all the trappings of John's worst nightmare, but he's still just a man underneath. And John knows what to do with those.

The courage it takes for Mulcahy to put his back to John when he's let him hear exactly what his choked groans of pleasure sound like is respectable. That's what makes this long, drawn-out decision worse, in a lot of ways. John likes Mulcahy. If he didn't, he wouldn't have made a drunken pass at him in the first place—there's plenty of people out there he can get his rocks off with. He doesn't need to go after somebody who bores or annoys the shit out of him.

In a way, Mulcahy's putting a lot of faith in John not to make a move in the middle of broad daylight, in the mess tent, sober, with the sounds of people walking by and chatting on their ways to their various pursuits.

But Mulcahy's also put his faith in a god who doesn't give a shit if they all burn up under a bomb, so. Shows what he knows, really.

John resumes his steps, keeping them completely silent, the kind of floating footfalls he uses when he's sneaking into the bed he shares with Louise, while he's covered in another man's fingerbruises and teeth marks. As he walks, he studies the lovely things about Mulcahy—the featheriness of his hair, the slope of his neck, the elegant shape of his broad shoulders. He's fucking beautiful is what he is.

It's a shame to think about what he sold his soul to in the name of healing others, in his own way. But he's still pretty young. Idealistic. Ready to believe that hell doesn't really exist on this soil.

He almost envies him. Almost.

The moment John's fingers brush over Mulcahy's hip, a hand jolts over them. "Trapper," Mulcahy murmurs warningly.

"The one and only," John whispers back. He leans down to rub the tip of his nose over his top vertebra.

"I told you, I'll speak with you when—"

"I'm not really all that interested in talking." Next, he nips, just a gentle catch of the flesh between his teeth.

Mulcahy shoves one hand off his hip, but when John wraps the other arm around his waist, Mulcahy simply grabs his wrist in a bruising grip. "Now. Why now? Why on earth a-are you..."

As John nuzzles ever so lightly through the silky strands of sweet-smelling hair, his eyelashes flutter closed. "'Cause I missed you."

A pause. "I-I don't believe that's true."

He grins. He knows all about being taught what you're worth, that it's little more than dog shit. That only a higher power can sear you clean. "Whether you believe it or not doesn't change the facts, sweetheart."

Mulcahy's other hand slams down on the table, pulling up a fistful of altar cloth that unsettles the cruets, almost topples them. For a long moment, they stand there together, John tucked up to him like spoons in a drawer, Mulcahy panting with far more than simple arousal. No, there's a heated thread of pure fury under it, something spicy that makes John's mouth water.

Finally he speaks, each word gritted out through a tight throat. "I don't think that we should do this again."

"Okay. Heard." John pulls him back tighter against his chest, fits his hips right against Mulcahy's ass so he can feel that he's half hard. "Whaddya know's gonna happen, though?"

Slowly, slowly, Mulcahy dips his head. From this angle, John can cock a little to the side, can see the glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose where they hang precariously at the tip. There's so much of Mulcahy that's in perpetual balance, teetering, and every time it looks like something's going to slip and break, it gets caught right before disaster.

Some might call it an act of God. And to that God, John would say, If You want him so bad, You can come right down here and try and take him from me.

"If you..." Mulcahy's voice cracks slightly at the edge, and John can feel his deep breath under his palm just as much as hear it. "If you have any respect for my calling, then you'll turn and walk out of those doors right now, and I swear that we'll never speak of this again. No one will hear a word."

Slowly, slowly, John grins. "Father," he whispers right against his ear. "I coulda walked down that same path all those years ago. Honest. Even looked into it when I was still in high school. You think I don't know what you chose? You think I don't know why?"

See, there's a reason men like them take the cloth. Sure, there's a beauty in giving up your life and your decisions to some institution that's gonna dictate everything down to how you brush your fucking teeth. You can even tell yourself that it's because you're chasing a calling, that you understand your purpose has nothing to do with selfish desires. Or. You can be honest. You can say that the second you realize that men stir you in a way that women never will, then you know you're never gonna fucking get married. You might as well have an excuse for why.

If you're not gonna let yourself have somebody in your bed, you might as well devote yourself to some Being who would never see fit to touch you unless you played perfectly by His rules anyway. The very Figure who'd happily grind you into dust under His heel if you ever forgot to apologize for living a life of true, unfathomable joy. To beg for forgiveness for being touched, for being seen for who you really, truly were.

As gentle as a prayer, John presses his lips to the sensitive spot right behind Mulcahy's ear. "Father. Francis. Hate to break it to you, honey, but I don't have a shred of respect for your fuckin' calling. It's you. It's all you. That's the person I actually give a shit about. And I'm not gonna pretty it up and pretend I don't just 'cause you're scared of what you let me see."

Mulcahy shakes his head, forcing John to lean back an inch so their skulls don't collide. "That's unfair. I... No, listen, my calling is an intrinsic part of me. You can't say you respect me, but not my choice to follow the command I was given. You understand that, don't you? I know you do. I am my calling."

"Nah. No, see, you're telling that to the wrong fella." John reaches around him to rest his weight on his hand, the edge of the table jutting into his palm, and Mulcahy lets him. He's all but trapped there now, locked in by John's body, by the altar. "Maybe if you said that shit to anybody else in this camp, they'd believe you." Even Hawk would. Lothario he may be, but he's got a sweeter heart under the surface than it may seem. He's got rules. Lines in the sand that he's never gonna cross. Of the two of them—John and Hawkeye—Hawk's got John beat for who's in the running for the award of Goodest Guy. "But we've got a shared history. Maybe we never crossed paths, but we ran parallel in a way that nobody else here has. So don't pull that on me. Don't stand here and try to convince yourself that you believe it when you already know you wouldn't let me cage you in here if you did."

In this moment, John catches himself wondering at Mulcahy's lack of fight, even emotionally. His words have been firm but ultimately unconvincing. He's not pushing John away in any meaningful manner. He's passive. And John's no idiot. There's something going on in this pretty little head of his that he needs to talk about.

And maybe if John was Hawkeye, he'd pull back, tug Mulcahy to the bench, and get him to start gabbing.

But John is John. And when he gets like this, he's always advancing, not stepping back. He's reading not between the lines, but under them, running his fingertips along what he was taught versus what he knows for certain now. And what he knows is that there's no fucking use in despising a part of himself that gives him more relief than anything else in the world can, and that if Mulcahy is already fragile enough to let John press up so tight against him like this, then he's looking for an excuse to listen.

"Here's what's gonna happen," John murmurs, smooth and serene. "I'm gonna jerk you off."

Mulcahy lets all his air out at once, his fist beginning to tremble on the table.

"I'm gonna touch your cock, and I'm gonna enjoy every second of it, and you're gonna come for me because you're fucking sick and tired of trying to figure out why you've gotta hate yourself for something you never asked to be in the first place. We're gonna do it right here. D'ya know why?"

"Because no one's coming," Mulcahy whispers, the very edge of his last word wet and anguished.

There it is. There's the thing that makes the light go back on in John's head. Because no, actually, that wasn't what he was going to say. Sure, he's right, nobody's gonna show up for services today, but that's just a fact of life at the 4077th. Only guy who might make an appearance is Klinger, and he's sleeping off his guard shift that ended at sunrise.

They've accidentally hit on the tender thing that's making Mulcahy let this happen. Because he doesn't think he's doing shit on the ground here.

Again, Hawkeye would stop. Introspection, primed and ready. But John picks up the pace. There's more than one way to really drive a conclusion home and make it stick.

"Nope. That's not it. It's because you want this. Because if you didn't, you'd tell me to eat shit and leave, and I would. I'd walk away right fucking now if you told me you didn't need it." John gently touches his cheek to the side of Mulcahy's head. There's a couple of ways he could phrase his next question. He picks the words deliberately. "Am I gonna walk away right now?"

A pause, long and tremulous, stretches out between them. John waits. Keeps his mouth shut. Doesn't move a muscle. Barely even breathes.

He's so quiet that he hears Mulcahy's lips part. "No. You're not."

John nods. "So what's gonna happen is once we're done, you're gonna get back out there, and you're gonna keep taking confessions. You'll run your Sunday services. You'll help everywhere you can. Because nothing's ever gonna change the fact that you're the best damn chaplain that coulda got sent here—the only guy who know how to love us the way your God wants you to—and we're gonna keep loving you back, 'cause we'd just about rip the stars outta the sky before we let you get transferred somewhere else, 'cause we don't want anybody else here but Father Francis Mulcahy. Fuck 'em. They're not gonna do the good you do. Nobody could."

This time when Mulcahy shivers, no matter how he tries to hide it, it's the unmistakable shake of a man who's beginning to cry. He's almost completely silent except for his shuddering breaths, but the feel of his body's trembling is just the same as all the other people John's held as they wept, sometimes because of somebody else, but more often than not because of something he did.

John tightens his arm around Mulcahy's waist, can't stop himself from kissing his neck just the once. "And one day," he whispers, barely audible at all. "You're gonna look back on everybody who saw a queer little kid, who got scared, who pushed you to go a certain way so they could try to choke you in a big, big world of ritual and tradition, until you were all tied up with a neat bow made out of a pretty purple stole. And you're gonna realize that the people who tried to kill that part of you, who only gave you that one path to go instead of asking what you wanted, were—"

All at once, Mulcahy tenses, sucking in a raw breath. His jaw goes hard enough that it stabs into John's cheek.

"Easy. Okay. I'll shut up."

"You don't know what you're talking about," Mulcahy hisses. "I wanted it. I wanted Him."

"I know you did," John all but hums, just as gently as he would walk Cathy or Becky through a tantrum. "And you want this too."

The second John brings his other hand to cup Mulcahy through his trousers, he feels the priest give himself over to it. That's all it takes. Just his palm pressing against this man's hard cock. How long's he been hard? Is that why he turned away from John in the first place? So many questions he's never gonna get the answers to.

John groans against the shell of his ear. "You feel fucking good."

A faint whimper is all he gets at first, but when John starts to lift his fingers away, Mulcahy presses back hard into his chest. It's like he's trying to contort himself in some unnatural way, not quite understanding the position he's really craving.

Just to be sure, John releases his waist, but Mulcahy throws his head back against his shoulder and finally lets out something almost feral, and it's all the answer he needs.

With one hand sliding up under his shirt to press into the bare skin of his waist, the other opens Mulcahy's belt without a fuss. John goes completely shameless, grinding against his ass in a lazy rhythm like they just woke up together, like he's getting ready to fuck him before they sound reveille. "I've been thinking about this. About you. Been hungrier for it than a fancy steak. D'you know what you do to a man, Francis?"

Mulcahy rips his glasses off and tosses them across the altar like nothing matters but this exact moment, the way he's rolling his hips backward, desperate to find his way into this rhythm. He covers his eyes as though he's trying to keep the tears at bay.

There's a part of John that thinks he could hold Mulcahy still, force their hips to synchronize in a way that'll make it perfect, but the fact that Mulcahy isn't being a passive observer of his own pleasure is enough to white out John's thoughts like the searing heat of the sun. He chases him a little faster instead, hears his own breath catch in his throat the moment he finds what the other man needs from him, and as the little pulses of pleasure shoot down John's spine, he slips inside Mulcahy's trousers and boxers all at once.

"Fuuuck..." John grins as he gets that hot, slim cock in his grip. It's a little smaller than a lot of guys he's fucked around with have, but at the same time, it's exactly right, the kind of dick he knows he could spend hours teasing and working with instead of getting a tired jaw. It's slick right now too, wet enough that he must've been soaking himself with precum practically since the moment John touched his hip. "I wanna get my mouth on this one day, if you let me."

Mulcahy sniffles, a fresh wave of trembling washing through him, and then he nods.

"Yeah?" John prompts.

"Yes." Oh, he sounds so desperate already. He needs this. It's so clear. "I-I... Oh my Lord..."

He could riff off that. If he was a bigger asshole, he would. But this surrender is too sweet to spoil. "Whaddya want?"

Mulcahy opens his mouth, then snaps it shut.

Too timid to ask for what he needs. That's fine. Not the first time John's had to coax. "Faster?"

The stiff nod says it all. John growls and bites gently at the skin just above his priest collar, not hard enough to leave a mark. As his hand picks up speed, he can feel Mulcahy's knees beginning to wobble, and it doesn't take much to muscle him forward so that Mulcahy has to catch himself on the table.

The roughness of Army boxers and trousers means there's no way in hell that John's gonna get off like this, but the edge of pain biting through the pleasure keeps him centered. Keeps him moving. Keeps him focused on jerking Mulcahy off like it's his calling in life, taking this guy who was so ready to settle for hating himself, trying to coax him back over the line into having this whenever he wants. "Y'know, one day, I'm gonna fuck you too."

"Mmnh—!" Mulcahy holds his body up with one hand, slaps the other palm over his mouth to muffle his broken moans.

"However you want it. I'll pound you over a table. I'll take you in your cot. I'll drive you all the way to Seoul, if you goddamn want, and I'll have you there all day, all night, in the softest sheets in Korea. I don't care. Fuck, you're so good..."

There's a mumble first, but then an almost urgent word. "Trapper?"

John knows what that tone means. "C'mon, Father," he whispers, just the edge of a thorn pricking through the ecstasy. "Come all over my hand. That's it."

What might've otherwise been a shout of pure pleasure gets contorted by a sob. As Mulcahy lets himself go, he nearly ends up limp, and John yanks him firmly back against his chest and holds him there as he brings him off with a tight fist, harder, harder, until there's nothing left but the tears.

Oh, the temptation to rip his own pants down right here, to paint this man's back in his cum. To make him wear that shirt all the way back to his tent to change.

But even with the roaring in his ears, even though he's pretty sure that if he gets even a finger on himself he'll lose it, John's not a monster.

Not right now, at least.

For now, he holds Mulcahy, letting him cry it out. It doesn't take long. He gets the feeling that Mulcahy's spent a lifetime choking things down that he isn't ready to feel. Once he's breathing evenly again, John leaves a kiss on his cheek, then tucks him back in his pants.

Mulcahy makes a quiet sound as he stares at the table, and it takes John a moment to realize that there's a thick stain on the altar cloth now, slowly starting to dry.

"Don't worry about it," John murmurs. He scoops up the glasses first, makes sure they're not broken. "I'll take care of it."

"You don't have to do that." His tone is so rough, it might as well be sandpaper.

"I know. I'm doing it anyway. C'mere."

Inch by inch, he escorts Mulcahy to the nearest bench and settles him there. As John steps back, they lock eyes, and as he often is, John's struck by his gaze. It's the first time they've seen each other since John froze up under his priestly regard, and the difference in his stare is arresting. He's no longer cool, cut off, warning John away. No, now he's open. Vulnerable. He's mourning and he's more than a bit scared, but he's also not flinching back from his fear.

John's lips quirk. He settles the glasses gently on Mulcahy's ears and nose, then thumbs lightly over his cheek. Once the tear tracks are wiped away, he returns to his task.

He takes a thrill from drying his sticky hand off on the edge of the altar cloth. As he stares hard at the vestments, he half-wishes they'll burst into flames. Unfortunately, not that lucky. He'll have to smash them all, take a torch to the rest, if that's what he wants. But it's not his place. He's already ripped his Bible to shreds, burned it and all his other religious chains in a drum back in Boston. This is Mulcahy's to decide what he wants to do with one day.

It's been years, but tending to the cruets, the cloth, all of it is still easy.

"You seem so familiar with it," Mulcahy murmurs. He sounds a little more like himself.

"I was an altar boy. Wasn't kidding when I told you I thought about taking the cloth."

A pause. "What stopped you?"

John shrugs. "Thought I got a girl pregnant. Got rushed into marrying her instead. Kid didn't show up for another decade, but, y'know, better to be thorough, I guess."

"Who rushed you?"

Toothy, easy as anything, the grin rises back up. "The good old Father, of course."

"I see," Mulcahy murmurs.

"I know what you're thinking." John makes sure everything is settled in its place, that he has the cloth bundled up for laundering. His arousal's died down, but the moment he looks at Mulcahy's slim shape, he knows he could get it up again in no time, if he wills it. Hell, maybe he will later. But now's not the time. "Lemme set the record straight. I'm not taking my bullshit out on you."

Mulcahy lifts his brows. "That's quite a display of willful ignorance."

"No, I mean it. I'm not." He could get into it, dig it all up again. But the clock's running down. Igor's gonna need the mess tent sooner rather than later, and he's pretty damn sure Mulcahy's not gonna hear whatever he has to say yet anyway. "I'll tell you about it someday."

"And when's that?"

"Eh. Maybe before the war ends." John tucks Mulcahy's box of supplies under his arm, holds it secure with the altar cloth, then comes over to hold out his hand. "C'mon. I'm taking you back to your tent, and then I'm gonna hold you."

Those beautiful eyes widen behind his glasses. "I don't think you should do that."

"Uh-huh. But whaddya know I'm gonna—"

"You're going to walk me back to my tent no matter what I tell you," Mulcahy murmurs tiredly.

"There you go." John leans down so they're nose to nose, hesitates, then leaves the gentlest kiss possible right on his mouth. It's his own breath that goes shivery this time, ghosting across Mulcahy's lips. "A guy deserves to be held sometimes." So he doesn't have to face his thoughts alone.

Flushed, fetching as anyone he's ever seen, Mulcahy hesitates before he nods. "Just for a little while."

"Just for a little while," John agrees, knowing full well he'll hold him all afternoon, if nobody comes looking for them.

Maybe he was lying. Maybe it is a little of his own bullshit getting in the way, not just his aching desire to see Mulcahy embrace these needs he has as something more than a punishment for lack of strength. But he can't deny there's an extremely tender part of him that just wants to fall asleep with somebody who's walked the paths he's walked. Who knows what he's said, what he's done, what he's given up, what he's shaken his fist at and cursed, and who, despite it all, wants him there anyway. Who sees him just as he is. Who never wants to see him as anything or anyone different.

Selfish? Yeah, down to the core. But after everything John gave up, everything he's still struggling to know if he'll ever be able to say goodbye to, he thinks he can be a little selfish here in the middle of purgatory.

Mulcahy slips his hand into John's, lets him pull him to his feet. He doesn't look away.

#you can read trap here any way that you want to but i am truly a sucker for a well done gay trapper fic #this is not one of those aforementioned well done fics but i was certainly meditating on the concept #my writing #ask meme answers #trapcahy #trapper john mcintyre #father mulcahy #m*a*s*h

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