#I wouldn't be caught dead with a man shorter than me

[mrvilschoenheit]

how does it feel to know how much people love you? I imagine you certainly have had your fair share of crazed fans, although mayhaps Rook has desensitized you to that. Or, like hes your crazy friend, who scares off all the other crazy people. But really, all those people who are obsessed with you, or write self inserts about you, now im curious, do you ever pop your head into such forums? whats the biggest ick youve ever gotten from it? (gross smut, crazed fan rant, something like that cutting for Bieber thing that happened way back when)

This either speaks to my arrogance or how long I have been in show business, but it would be more concerning if people weren't grossly obsessed with me. Could I truly be the fairest of them all if I did not drive my audience to madness? When someone finds themselves enamored, they yearn. When the one they yearn for is untouchable and larger than life, of course they would feel safe publishing and voicing their fantasies- Especially when a large portion of the population is doing the same... in a way, I view it as evidence of my impact.

As for whether or not I purposefully seek it out, absolutely not. Avoiding certain fan spaces to keep your sanity is something that you learn early on as a public figure... but stumbling across it is inevitable. The only thing that has made me downright ill is seeing edited photos of myself and a "peer" being intimate. Honestly, I don't understand why him of all people!

#I wouldn't be caught dead with a man shorter than me #disney twst #twisted wonderland #twst #vil schoenheit #ask blog #pomefiore #vil

[sv5hive]

womaniser | jb22

pairing: jenson button x fempopstar!reader, brief mark webber appearance

content warning(s): swearing, mentions of drinking, use of y/n, inaccurate information about the monaco paddock/circuit, suggestive champagne drinking(?)

word count: 1,771

note: first of all, thank you for all the notes on my lewis fic i'm absolutely blown away 😭🫶🏻 secondly, first fic featuring mr. playboy himself! i hope you enjoy this one bcos i had so much fun writing it 🩷

(masterlist!)

you gawked at the herds of people waiting for your arrival at the entrance of the paddock from behind your sunglasses. even after years of being in the limelight, you still weren't used to all the attention.

somehow, news had leaked that you would be attending the monaco grand prix this year, which meant that you had to cover yourself in team gear (that your manager had fortunately brought to your hotel room the night before) from head to toe and walk in with the other team members rather than make a glamorous entrance in a far too revealing outfit like you usually did.

not that you were complaining. your manager would have your head if you caused any more chaos especially after your recent stunt during some after party which involved a bit too much drinking and dancing for the public's liking. apparently people didn't think three awards was something to celebrate with several rounds of shots.

"over there!"

shit.

despite your best efforts to remain incognito, it seemed you were identifiable even while wearing the slightly grim team uniform you wouldn't be caught dead in if it were under normal circumstances.

in a split second decision you made a run for it, hoping to evade any and all slightly deranged fans who might cause mayhem if they managed to reach you. stifling a giggle, you sprinted down the road without sparing a single thought about how odd it looked to everyone else around. you were suddenly grateful for the fact that you were wearing attire suitable for an unexpected, albeit thrilling, getaway.

yep. your manager is definitely going to give you an earful when you get back.

after what felt like an eternity of running, you ducked in between two motor homes to try and catch your breath while also staying hidden. you were so preoccupied with your own endeavours that you hadn't noticed the two men who were once engaged in their own conversation, now ogling at you.

just your luck. were they fans too? god, when were you going to catch a break?

"sorry, i can't sign anything or take any pictures right now. thanks for your support though." you muttered, finally managing to get out your pr approved message while leaning against the wall.

you promptly figured out that you had obviously said something wrong by the sight of a growing smile on the slightly shorter, blond man. looking closer at his chest, you recognised the same brawn gp logo that you were currently wearing stitched onto his racesuit.

fuck.

you looked to the dark haired man on his right who still looked confused at your random appearance. as you moved your gaze down from his face, you then noticed the red bull racing logo on his racesuit.

double fuck. but of course it was your luck to run into the drivers and embarrass yourself!

"shit. ok, wait, hang on. sorry about that. i'm not actually like that, i swear. i'm just trying not to make my manager any angrier at me than she already is." you managed to huff out.

"no worries, take your time."

thankfully, the blond man could see that you were still desperately trying to get air in your lungs and graciously gave you time to recover.

"erm, sorry, can we start over? i'm y/n l/n, nice to meet you."

you moved forward to shake both of their hands.

"jenson button, it's a pleasure. although i feel like i've already met you the amount of times you've been in the headlines."

you almost lost all your breath again as he maintained perfect eye contact while shaking your hand. you grimaced at the reminder of the mischief that you had been known for since the beginning of your career.

is this the regret that your manager was talking about during one of her lectures?

"mark webber, nice to meet you too. so, what was that all about?"

the brunet man, mark as you had just learnt, finally snapped out of his daze as he lightly shook your hand.

"oh, that? it's not a big deal, just some fans who wanted to meet me. i mean i appreciate them and i'm sure they have good intentions but it's a little scary to have a horde of people chasing you. you understand, right?"

jenson's shit-eating grin grew impossibly bigger and it was starting to get on your nerves. and this intense staring contest he had initiated didn't help.

what was his problem?

"yeah, i guess? something tells me you get recognised a lot more often than we do."

you nodded at mark's response without even giving him as much as a glance. if it weren't for the fact that you refused to lose the unofficial staring contest, you might have felt bad for practically ignoring him.

mark looked between you two and made the sensible decision to not get involved in whatever the hell was going on.

"uh, i'm gonna go get ready. see you out there, mate."

"yeah sure, see you later."

and just like that, you were alone with jenson.

"so, what's the world's biggest pop star doing at a formula 1 race?"

your face warmed at the compliment from the man who was becoming more and more attractive as time went on.

"thanks. my friend was meant to be here but something came up and she gave me her pass. i don't know anything about racing but i've heard the after parties are good. is that right?"

"good? they're better than good. they're the best parties in the world."

you raised an eyebrow at his declaration. you had been to more after parties than you could care to remember and you heavily doubted that they could be topped. sensing your uncertainty, jenson made an offer.

"tell you what. if i win the race today, you have to let me take you out to celebrate. i'll even let you watch the race from my garage."

he was on pole position and it was almost impossible to overtake at monaco. but you didn't have to know that.

you did need somewhere safe to watch from. and who knows? maybe celebrating with him could be fun.

"and what if you don't win?"

"don't worry about that, sweetheart. i'll win it just for you." he replied shooting you a wink.

jesus, was he trying to make you pass out?

"well if you're so confident then sure."

"great. let me take you to our garage. don't worry, your fans won't be able to get in there. although i can't promise that some of the team won't ask you for pictures."

"as long as they don't try and trample me i think i'll be fine!"

laughing along with him to the garage, both of you failed to notice the cameras pointed at you, broadcasting your interaction to live television.

almost two hours had passed by now and you were anxiously waiting for jenson to cross the line in first place. you didn't think watching race cars go round in circles could ever be so exciting but your mind had been undoubtedly changed after today. jenson had just begun his final lap around the prestigious circuit when the mechanics started leaving the garage. through all the emotion no one had bothered to tell you what was happening so you just rushed outside with them.

eventually you managed to push your way to the front of the crowd and rested against the wall facing the number boards waiting for the top 3 drivers arrival.

"where's jenson?" you turned to the mechanic on your right after the second and third drivers, who you found out were rubens barrichello and kimi räikkönen, parked their cars behind their respective number boards while jenson was nowhere to be found.

you soon got your answer once you saw him round the corner on foot.

"looks like he got lost!" joked the same mechanic on your right.

you shook your head and chuckled at the absurdity of a professional racing driver getting lost at a track he's driven at several times before. in the end he managed to get to the podium to raise his trophy and celebrate with his teammate.

a serene smile fell on his face as the british national anthem played for him for the fifth time that season. slowly but surely his claim to the 2009 title was becoming stronger and stronger.

as his eyes fell on his team he picked out your face in the sea of people. acting solely on impulse, he blew a kiss towards you ultimately causing an echo of wolf whistles. you made a motion as if to catch the kiss and slip it into the pocket of your jeans, saving it for later.

it would just be rude to leave the man hanging after he had let you stay in his garage. it definitely was not because he was charming your socks off.

shortly after the podium ceremony, he made his way towards the wall you were stood against. joining in with everyone else, you applauded him as he walked up. you let him celebrate with the people who had made the win possible before he finally reached you.

"congratulations, jense! you were incredible!"

"thank you, darling! would you like to try some of this champagne? might not be as good as some of the stuff you've had but i like to think victory makes it taste sweeter."

you smirked at the thought.

"if you insist." came your reply before you tilted your head back and opened your mouth to let him pour the champagne in.

for the first time since you had met him, he was speechless. snapping out of it, he poured the champagne into your mouth and the cheers seemed to become deafening. you tapped his chest to signal him to stop and wiped your mouth with your sleeve.

"you were right. victory does make it sweeter."

you mirrored the grin on his face as the celebrations almost faded away into the background. you two must have had the same thought in that moment because before you knew it, you were kissing each other as if there weren't dozens of cameras being shoved in your faces.

once again, you were breathless as you pulled away.

"i know i owe you a proper celebration, but how about dinner? just us two?"

your cheeks were starting to hurt from the permanent grin on your face now.

"sounds like a proper celebration to me."

your manager was definitely going to kill you now. but you couldn't care less; you had a dinner date with jenson button.

#f1 fic #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #jenson button x reader #jenson button x you #jenson button imagine #jenson button x fem!reader #jenson button

[crookedkryptonitebeliever]

Bruh I remember you saying how there was a point in his life where Yves was possibly facing death row because of some insane human experiments and now I’m just imagining him in court looking cunt as f in that orange jumpsuit like: “12 counts of kidnapping” *flips hair over his shoulder* “6 counts of dealing in dead human remains” *crosses legs* “18 counts of Mayhem” *bats eyelashes* “20 counts of first degree murder” “3 counts of possessing, selling or usage of weapons of mass destruction” like he’s be so nonchalant because he knows that he’s gonna be free and won’t see another night of jail and that the courts are just doing this to satisfy the loved ones of the families that were affected.

Now I wonder like, I remember in an earlier ask it looked like Yves might’ve looked quite different when he was in his doctor era, not as femme and with shorter hair, would this coincide with his mad scientist era as well? Or would this be afterwards?

I also feel like the human experimentation stuff happened while he was trying to essentially patch himself up and used live donations to do that. I dunno y but I have a headcanon that all of that may of happened earlier into his medical career, like I can imagine him first starting, always wearing a surgical mask and gloves because his face and hands probably looked DASTARDLY, and over time, as he patches himself up reveals more and more of himself.

I dunno, just my idea, probably doesn’t match up with your own tl but I was thinking about it since I saw it and now I have the time to put it into words! Love your writing and I love Yves!!!!!!!!

Tw; Yves past and full of traumas n shit, body horror and stuff

Trust me, he wasn't serving cunt in court, there was a reason why he has any video, photo and even memorial evidence of it scrubbed.

The first time he got sentenced heavier than a few years in prison without parole, he was screaming and hissing and kicking as the guards took him away. Yves was bitter and full of hatred, his quest to become beautiful again was interrupted too early because of his immature carelessness. It hasn't even been half a decade since he received his license and he's already caught. Fellow inmates avoided him because there was just something not right about that man even though he was one of the scrawniest and visibly weakest in the institution.

He already knows how to make scalpels out of nothing, Yves's extensive knowledge of human biology means that he could very easily kill or debilitate anyone without a hitch. The gangs wouldn't want to mess with him, the weaker ones wouldn't want to get his attention, and not even the wardens wanted to go near him if they could help it. The vibes were just... Off. He wasn't a pretty sight for the eyes either, especially with his scars and deformities from years of abuse.

It was only years after he 'calmed' down enough to think properly in prison. Unfortunately though, during his turbulent years, he racked up a large number of mutilation and murder victims in his facility. He was the worst and deadliest inmate in there, at one point having a judge sentence him to death because he was just too much of a threat to be kept alive.

So he sobered up, pushed aside his anguish for his looks and dignity robbed away from him. Yves considerably mellowed himself down, opting to be more diplomatic and cunning to get what he wanted. He had to learn how to seduce the people that matter without the help of his youth and looks, he would play the meek, helpless deformed cutie in distress. It managed to win the hearts of some key personnel that aided him in escaping. Not only the prison, but the system too.

Through a lengthy, convoluted, and nerve-wracking plan paved by betrayal, drugs, sexual exploitation, torture, and evil intentions, Yves somehow got his death sentence reversed. And slowly, dissolved his other penalties too with the help of his contacts and smart thinking. He sacrificed a lot to get out and most importantly, acquire experiences.

He kept going until he finally escaped, entirely. Having the authorities off his back because they cannot convict him anymore. Using every legal loophole and doing shady things to paint him as innocent in the eyes of the law. Hell, they didn't even remember him, as if he induced permanent amnesia into those who brought him to justice in the first place. He had done the impossible and he had become a traitor to everyone he had used to attain his goals, dooming them to their horrible fates because they abused and brutalized him when he was at his lowest.

From there, he had attained his secret, unstoppable weapon: patience. Yves has learned a valuable lesson, that is if he keeps acting out and thinking that he's running out of time, he will fuck up and not go anywhere.

Now that he knew the ins and outs of the system (and the psychology of those involved), the next time he was caught and brought for another court hearing in handcuffs, he wasn't serving cunt either. He had to manipulate everyone into thinking that he was innocent and simply framed for something he didn't do. Yves is playing his own chess and winning at every round, he knows all the moves and what to do, and he calculates the risks and benefits, the probability of what might happen. Who he should endear himself to and who he should appear intimidating to.

When it comes to trouble, he is never serving cunt nor flop. He is always serving nothing. Because he knew that attention can be deadly, for every case he got himself into, one of his main priorities was to keep it hush-hush. The less people know, the less he has to eliminate, the better.

He wormed back into his medical career, laying low for a bit but ultimately scheming to get back to usual programming. Yves learned how to be much more careful, and sneaky. He learned how to keep their screams muffled and enhanced his forgery skills. The importance of having numerous scapegoats at his disposal is greatly emphasized so his quest wouldn't be interrupted too soon again. Those who truly knew the monster under that calm and collected facade either feared or respected him, or both. Everyone else didn't know who he even was or his relevance to anything, that's exactly what Yves wanted: obscurity. Fame did nothing but get him in trouble and tormented, so he sunk into the comforting depths of anonymity.

Only when he got the face, hands, and feet that he wanted, Yves fucked off from the medical field to do other things he wanted. But mostly it is to work on his mental fortitude to become the powerhouse he is right now. It doesn't mean he quit entirely, though. Present day, He would still run his morbid experiments from time to time on people who wronged him; there is definitely no shortage of them in the world. Yves does that to satisfy his curiosity or to research how to make your life better.

#yandere #yandere oc #yandere x reader #yandere male #oc yves #yandere oc x reader #tw yandere #yandere x you #yandere concept #male yandere oc x reader

[billyrussohaven]

Into my Web

Chapter 1

Billy Russo x Female Reader

Cowritten with @the-cult-of-russo

Ratings: Explicit 18+ ONLY

Warnings: Although this chapter might not include it, this fic will include; Sexual situations, swearing, human slave, vampires, biting, blood, obsessive thoughts, dub con, stockholm syndrome, gaslighting.

A/N: This has been sitting around for a few months. Well almost a year honestly. Life happened and we never really got to wrap it up with a pretty bow finish...But we worked so hard on it, we didn't want it to never be read or enjoyed. So I will be posting this story because I have fond memories of it. I hope you guys will enjoy it, we sure did have a lot of fun writing this.

Masterlist | Buy me a coffee



“Come out, sweetheart! I know you're here!” Billy called out with a predatory smirk. It was a dangerous one, one that said despite a smile he was feeling quite a fair bit of rage. He loved the chase, he couldn't deny that. But he was getting a little sick of this now. No matter how long the girl had been with him, how many times he punished her for disobeying him, it seemed she wouldn't learn. It was pretty fucking irritating.

Human servants and toys were a common thing in the underbelly of the vampire world. They were illegal of course but it didn't mean he didn't know how to get one. The black market was rife with vampire activity and he had a good friend that told him where to find one. He hadn't really ever desired a human servant or toy. Humans were food. Why the hell would he want one to accompany him everywhere and keep her alive? But after visiting his friend, seeing his harem of humans and just how obedient they were, how much they did for his friend, he couldn't say he wasn't intrigued. He had always been a jealous type, it was just in his nature. When he saw his friend happy and being served like he was, he wanted that for himself. So his friend had told him just where to go. He didn't need a harem. He didn't have a problem with getting girls to sleep with him so he wasn't too fussed about that. But one little obedient human who obeyed his every whim sounded fucking fabulous. He’d been pretty bored lately so it seemed like fun. 

The big mansion was out of the way, in the middle of nowhere in Nevada and full of girls. According to the vampire that ran the place, Jenson, they all went through strict training. Those unable to keep a high standard were just used as blood bags. He'd been given a list with names and prices and one of them stood out to him because they were a lot cheaper than the others, it intrigued him a little. He couldn't help but wonder why. Then when the girls who were ready, the ones whose training had successfully been completed came in, you stood out to him once again. He hadn't known you were the one with the low price right away but you stuck out like a sore thumb.

All the girls were in short silky white nightgowns, no doubt to make them more appealing. Billy couldn't lie, it worked. But you caught his eye. Most of the other girls seemed to follow a pattern. Drop-dead gorgeous, the overly gorgeous type, very tanned and most of them blonde and ridiculously tall. Their faces all practically looked the same. Girls who could have been models or something. They were tall, had ample cleavage but were stick-thin everywhere else. He'd been with that type many times and honestly, he'd grown bored of it. You were the only exception and it piqued his interest once more. You were shorter than the others, not following the same pattern of the other girls and didn't look the same. Not too big, not too small. You looked a lot meeker than the others too, something about the aura around you. Overall, it made you look more vulnerable. Made you look weaker. Easier to break. It intrigued him.

The man stepped next to each one and told Billy their names. Their eyes had to be directed at the floor until their names were picked and then they had to look at him. He had grown impatient and bored as the man made his way through the line of the boring girls, his eyes glued on you. Then the man uttered your name and you looked at Billy. Your eyes made him stare at you for a moment. The other girls paled in comparison to you and he was unsure why you were so cheap. Maybe the market was into the other style of girl more but Billy was bored of that. You were something unique and it was exactly why he had ended up buying you. 

He had seen the fear in your eyes as he stepped towards you, he'd wondered if this was the first time someone had expressed interest in you. If the market really was geared towards the other type of women then maybe you had thought no one would buy you. Jenson had looked almost shocked too as Billy stopped right in front of you. You lowered your eyes immediately and he wasn't sure if that was part of your training or if you were just scared. He could hear your heart thumping wildly in your chest so he knew you were frightened. You should have been. He had put his finger under your chin, tilting your face to look at him. Your eyes snapped back up to his then and he understood it was your training. You were to avert your eyes unless instructed otherwise. He wouldn't have minded but your eyes were beautiful. 

When he had said he wished to buy you, the other vampire had looked shocked, telling him that he could find someone more to his taste if he required. Billy had been a little offended at that as if the man had told him he didn't have good taste in women. Sure the other girls were pretty, but it was more general beauty, nothing like you. You were more like a dark beauty. Not one that would have been on the catwalk but something more hauntingly beautiful. Exactly why he wanted you as his new toy. His pretty little doll. He had been informed that you were a good worker though, how you were only here because your father had given you to them to repay a debt. None of them had expected you to get through training, thinking you would be a mere meal. But to everyone's surprise, you were the hardest working there. This pleased Billy greatly. He knew he had made the right choice with every word he heard.

You'd been very fearful of him when he took you home to his place in the middle of nowhere in Upstate New York, as you should have been. You would tremble terribly just being near him and any time he stroked your hair or cheek you would flinch and squeak, no doubt wanting to run and scream but you kept it in. Part of him enjoyed your fear, the natural predator coming out in him, but the other part wanted you to get used to his touch. You would have to get used to it since he planned on doing it more. He never forced himself on a woman, never had to, which was why he planned to break you just enough so you would be begging for him. It had been just over a year now though and your relationship was a strange one.

You were a hard worker, Jenson hadn't been wrong. But at least once a month you would suddenly become hysterical and try to escape. Those were the times he would punish you. He had used his compulsion to find out your fears. Darkness and claustrophobia. So after your first escape attempt, he locked you in a tiny dark closet. He had actually felt a twinge of remorse when he heard you banging on the door as you sobbed helplessly begging for mercy. He hated feeling anything so he forced himself to go out and leave you so he didn't have to put up with your useless crying. You shouldn't have disobeyed him. He could be good to you if you just behaved. He hadn't returned until the next day and when he opened the closet you were laying in the fetal position. Your eyes were open but vacant and you didn't respond to him at all. He had worried for a moment he may have broken you too much and cursed himself. You were far too pretty to break completely just yet, he thought he might have ruined the fun for himself. 

He had been nice to you that day. Bought you all the foods he knew you loved since he'd compelled you to tell him everything about yourself. He wasn't sure why he had done that, he was just curious about you. But he was pleasant that day, holding you and telling you that he didn't like treating you that way, you just had to behave. You seemed to seek out his comfort in those moments he was very nice to you and he found himself enjoying it. Having you letting him hold you that way, the calm and peace. But after just over a week it was back to normal and you would be fearful of him again until you found enough courage to escape again. Around in circles you went.

It had irritated him to no avail when you kept trying to escape, not understanding what was wrong with you. Surely you knew he would catch you? You knew what would happen yet you still took that risk. But as the months passed by, he seemed to grow accustomed to you running away and sometimes found himself enjoying it, loving the chase. His house was in the middle of nowhere and surrounded by woodland, it wasn't like you would come across any help here. After a few months, he had lessened his punishment to just the closet with the light on, fearing he would shatter your mind completely if he kept it up and then he would have no fun at all. In a way, he admired your spirit. Every time he would punish you, you would seem broken for a few days but then you seemed to glue yourself together. He liked to think he had a hand in that with being so nice to you afterwards. It was a mind game of course. Showing you he could be nice if you just obeyed him. He didn't enjoy any of it. Holding you, inhaling your sweet scent. No, of course not. He was lying to himself and he knew he was. He did enjoy it. He found himself enjoying your company. The longer you were there, the more you relaxed and you had even had a few laughs together. It had been odd for him. It seemed so...normal sometimes. But deep inside of him he just wanted to be accepted, to be loved, as much as he hated to admit it. And in those moments when he had broken you he was able to mold you however he wanted, just for those few days. Sometimes you'd watch movies together whilst you sat in his lap. You would talk about a lot of things. It was strange. He found it cathartic, soothing even. He never knew having a new toy would bring him this feeling but he was glad to have you. You were serving him well.

He hadn't slept with you yet. Not that he didn't want to. No other woman seemed to compare with your beauty in his eyes. He was a monster, but he certainly wasn't that type of monster and he wouldn't take you against your will. Anytime he stroked your cheek and looked at you with that hunger in his eyes, you would start to shake, so he never went any further. He knew he could have easily slept with you when you were broken but he knew you would never forgive him when you came back to your senses. For some reason, that felt oddly unpleasant so he hadn't. He’d kept himself busy with other women to keep him satisfied that way. 

He never fed from you either. He wasn't really sure why but he just hadn't. He had always gone out to hunt and keep himself well-fed. Maybe he didn't trust himself not to drain you, he wasn't sure, but strangely enough, he hadn't ever tasted your blood. He'd even put you on suppressants so you didn't have periods anymore.

He knew your blood tasted sweet because he had smelt it. He had been in a rage for something or another and trashed the living room. When you went about trying to clean up after him, you ended up cutting yourself on a broken vase. The smell hit him immediately. It smelt divine, more enticing than he'd ever experienced. He knew when he looked at you that his face had changed because you'd gasped and fell back on your ass and stared at him like a deer caught in the headlights. Your rapidly beating heart betraying your fear. It only made you more appealing to the predator inside of him. He wanted nothing more than to go and drain you dry but the look of utter fear felt like someone smacked some sense into him. You were his toy, he doubted he would find another so interesting so it was best you stayed alive. He didn't feel like being bored again. He had fled from the room fast to go and find someone else who could satisfy his needs. 

It had been hours later he returned, full but not really satisfied. After smelling your blood, no one else seemed to quell the craving he had. But he was back in control for now. Much to his horror when he got back he noticed the door was unlocked, he cursed himself for leaving in such a hurry and not locking it, sure you were gone. He was surprised when he opened the door and you were curled up on the couch. You sat up when he walked in and he couldn't help the curious look on his face that you'd not fled. You'd escaped so many times now and you had your chance. He hadn't been there and you would have had a good head start if you wanted to leave. It might have been the one chance you had to really escape. Not that he wouldn't track you down and bring you back though. His curiosity only increased when you stood, watching him with careful eyes. Those pretty fucking eyes. He could hear how fast your heart was beating, you were still scared of him. He didn't move, just watching you to see what you would do. He had given you a charming smile like he always did and that seemed to reassure you enough. He had been more than shocked when you walked over and wrapped your arms around him, thanking him. He knew why though. He could have fed from you, could have drained you. Yet he had left swiftly. He almost felt like you staying here and not leaving when you had the chance was your way of showing your gratitude for that and it somehow pleased him a little. 

A hug. It had been strange. He didn't really hug anyone much anymore since he'd gone his own way. His found family had been the only exception and that was more than rare these days. Yet his little pet was hugging him for simply not draining her, that he had been merciful somewhat with her. Instead of laughing at you or pushing you away, he wrapped his arms around you too, enjoying it. This was the first time you had let him touch you willingly when your mind hadn't been broken. That you'd actually touched him. Despite the fact that you weren't too fearful normally with him now, the only time you were really scared was when he would touch your face, neck or hair. Then you would shake and get quite upset.  It was nice for you to come to him, to let him be like this with you without your mind being in a bad place. He felt like he was making progress with you. He wanted you to get used to him touching you and you seemed like you were in some way.

Or at least he thought you were. But things quickly got back to normal. You would behave, do everything he asked of you. You would actually get along and have some interesting conversations. When you were a good girl he treated you well. He was still demanding and threatening when the need arose but in some ways, it was like you were his friend. But then you would suddenly snap, as if it had all been a ruse and you would flee. He would always find you, bring you back and punish you. The next few days after you would be broken. Pliable to him, needy with his affection he showered you with. Then it would go back to normal again. Rinse, wash and repeat. He was impressed however that your spark hadn't gone. Sure, it was annoying when you disobeyed him and tried to leave and then he’d have to put up with you crying when he punished you, but it was interesting that after all you'd been through, all your training and all your punishments, you still weren't completely broken. You were a special one, his pet. And that's exactly why he intended on keeping you around for a very long time. He’d even toyed with the idea of turning you. Possibly soon before you aged too much. Even you couldn't remember your age. You'd been in that place training since you were a young girl. You had lost count of time and your birthdays. You were forced to forget a lot of things. You weren't a person anymore. You were a thing. A servant. A toy, his toy. And you would be for the rest of eternity. Forever his pretty little plaything.

Billy stopped and closed his eyes with a sly smirk. He could hear how fast your heart was beating. Thumping wildly in your chest like the wings of a hummingbird trying to escape. He could smell you too. Your scent was always alluring, he’d know it anywhere. It was starting to rain now, the sky dark. He didn't need the light to see though, he could see well enough without it. He knew you would be cold. You were only in your pyjamas. He had bought you some clothes and things in your time together. At first, he had thought he would dress his toy up in slutty clothes, maybe none. But when he laid eyes on you and decided to buy you, it didn't feel right. Not that he wouldn't mind seeing you naked, of course he’d love the pleasure. But you weren't like the other girls. You were special, you were his. So he had bought you expensive silky black pyjama shorts and a cami. You looked divine in them. You looked divine in everything. 

He spotted you then, running like your life depended on it. To you it did. You were quite far from him but he was there in a split second with his vampire speed. You yelped when he was suddenly in front of you and fell into the mud on your back. Your bare feet were covered in mud and most likely hurt with you being out here without shoes. You were soaking and shivering as Billy pounced on you. He was his most menacing with you when you had dared to escape. He had to keep you in line, after all. The niceties would come after your punishment. He pinned your wrists above your head, his weight on you pushing you deeper into the wet muddy floor and you bucked and tried to get him off you.

“Let me go!” You screamed at him. It was useless out here, you knew that. It didn't seem to stop you though. It amused him, you were rather strong for a little human. If any human man ever tried to kidnap you he’d probably be sorry. Then again, Billy would torture him until he begged for death if anyone else touched you. You belonged to him.

“My sweet Y/N, don't you ever listen?” He grinned, nothing mirthful in it though as his dark eyes pierced you. He could compel you to obey, sure. But where was the fun in that? He liked a challenge, and dare he say he liked the fire inside of you. You didn't show it too much. Most of the time you were quiet and just did as he asked. Other times he managed to make you open up and even on a few occasions, after being here a while, he had managed to make you laugh. You had a similar sense of humour which had shocked him but he liked it. But the times you would for some reason decide to flee, you were nothing but fire. You didn't cry, you didn't beg him with nice words. You were just a ball of angry fire and he loved it. Although he still didn't know why you kept trying to escape. He treated you very well when you behaved. 

There were never any signs you were planning to escape either. It always kept him on his toes but honestly, it kept his life exciting. You would be a good little pet one minute and the next be running like a bat out of hell. If it was anyone else he’d have snapped their necks after their first try but there was something about you. You had so many layers to you and he actually liked having you around. When you behaved, you obeyed his every command. It was quite fun having a little toy to play with.

You were still trying to fight with him, but of course, he didn't move an inch, he was much stronger. He scooped you up and tossed you over his shoulder carelessly. You screamed and yelled and pounded his back, but in a flash you were back inside. He plonked you down on your feet in his room, right outside the closet. This would be where another layer of you would appear. You stumbled back into his chest and he gripped your arms tightly so you couldn't run.

“N-no! Please!” You begged, shaking your head as your chest began to heave. Still no tears though. They never made an appearance just yet.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. You left me no choice. One day you'll learn you can’t ever run from me,” he replied coldly before he shoved you inside and locked the door. He left the light on. The only time he locked you there in the dark had been your first ever punishment. After you being so broken for over a week and fearing he had ruined his toy for good, he decided one fear was enough. You were claustrophobic so this would still break you just enough, just for a couple of days. 

The tears started then. You were hysterical as you pounded at the door, begging for mercy. He heaved a sigh as he poured himself some brandy and sat in the armchair. He didn't much like punishing you anymore if he was honest. Hearing you begging him like that, hearing you so upset. It left a very unpleasant feeling in his chest which annoyed him. If you didn't misbehave he wouldn't have to do this. He downed his drink before standing and grabbing his coat. He needed a real drink. He needed to get out of here. Your cries were chipping away at the little sanity he still held onto. 

He swiftly left and slammed the door. His keen vampire hearing could still hear you down the hall. How you got more frantic when you knew he had gone. Knowing there was no chance now to beg him to let you out. He would come back in the morning, just like he always did. Maybe he would get you some flowers. You seemed to like that last time. Your favourites were forget-me-nots. His little pet would be broken and he would be the one to put you back together. You would be lovely and pliable and he would lavish you with affection. It was all part of the mind games. You needed to know if you behaved, things would be good for you. It was nothing to do with anything else. 

#billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo fanfic #billy russo imagine #billy russo fanfiction #billy russo x y/n #billy russo x you #billy russo x female reader #billy russo fanfics #billy russo/reader #ben barnes #bin bons #dark!billy russo #vampire

[berryunho]

Not you and Bee updating your fics the same day when just yesterday I was going through both fics again because I missed them dearly. You people are gonna kill me, the adrenaline that shot through me hit so hard when I saw The Answer and Wonderwall had updated that I almost spooked myself and fell from my bed.

Anyways HELLO! Good to see you again <3

Hope you're having a good 2024 so far.

Here we go on another one of my unnecessarily long ass comments about the fic, sure hope I haven't overstayed my welcome with them just yet lmao (let me know if I do end up overdoing it at some point please, I will gladly tone it down if it becomes a problem).

FIRST OF ALL: I THINK I'M GOING INSANE.

Maybe its the hj brainrot that I've been stuck on for the last few months, maybe it's the fact that the ateez hyperfixation is hitting harder than usual since the comeback but him throwing a tantrum yelling "you will not take her from me"? Butterflies. Got me giggling and kicking my feet. I was rolling around on my bed as I read that.

Maybe it's the absence making the heart grow fonder and all that.

That being said, my misplaced fondness for this clown did die down once he hit us with the whole "she should be begging me for her life", if the cult thing wasn't enough of an ick I guess that did the job. Like, sir you had me for a sec there with the possessiveness (*tucks my hair like debbie ryan*) why did you have to remind me of your actual personality?

But yeah, catch me slowly being dragged down against my will to join the TheAnswer!HJ simps, though I guess that's what's gonna happen to mc soon enough too, I really am along for the ride with her. Me and mc peering down the edge into the abyss where they lay, the abyss stares right back at us. Damn. People are right, we are not immune to cult propaganda. Tragic.

I really wanted to point out that this chapter had me extra paranoid than the last one tbh, you mentioned in the notes that this was shorter and that you felt like it was lackluster, but I seriously didn't feel it at all because of how on edge I was at times, not as much as let's say during her escape attempt in the corn field sure, but I was still wary and uneasy while reading. I know we had the whole circus with the Guardian thing last time, but san being so urgent in his claims that they have to leave and us getting to hear about how pissed off hj got because of mc's "unsatisfying" reaction to his little scheme? I am dead serious when I tell you I was bracing for the absolute worst, got me shaking in my little tinfoil hat.

The part about the machine harvesting the field? With mc saying she wouldn't want to be caught in it? (ALSO I SEE THAT SHORT YEOSANG MOMENT, I SEE YOU LEAVING A TRAIL OF BREAD CRUMBS FOR HIM 👁👁 <- EYES THAT SEE)

My 2 braincells immediately went "oh em gee, foreshadowing?", like I am certain to my core that someone's gonna fucking die to that or be horrifically injured, its just a matter of: whom? 🤨 I'm gonna save my guess as to who it could be in case that does happen, but I will come back here to yell on another ask about it if that comes up in the future.

Then the scene with hj and hwa talking to mc about her questions, and she hits them with the "oh what can I do if I'm alone?" and hwa is desperately trying to get her to stfu (me too man, me too) while hj smiles at her. You know, like a cryptic weirdo.

Now, I am more than willing to say that what came to mind for me in that moment was probably due to my very *rational* fear of TheAnswer!HJ, but ignore the fact that I am losing myself to his mind games and hear me out for a bit: I kid you not, for a second, I legit thought that he may suggest to or even outright attempt to like "mark" mc with the Sign.

In what way? I don't fucking know but there are many options and he is twisted enough to think of that, we all know it and the sirens were blaring in my head about that when he said the Sign would protect her as long as she had it in her, like "mc girl, I dread to say this but I feel like we should trust mr lapdog on this one, I fear you may be poking the modern day moses a bit too much and we all know he is having a diva moment today", because for hwa to be so concerned over it while hj reacts somewhat positively? Yeah, something wicked this way comes. And on that note, it seemed to me that hwa wasn't just trying to get her to steer from upsetting hj, he seems like he was trying to keep the peace between them in more ways than just that (more on that in a separate ask cause I feel like this is getting too long and its probably a pain for people to scroll past it LMAO I'M SO SORRY).

You clarified for me last time that mc will find out eventually about what happened to her bff (thank you by the way <33) and given how much it was brought up this chapter, I do think he is gonna wait out a while to use the haseul card (haseul girl you will always be remembered as the ride or die friend that you were, more on the die side but it's not your fault girlie, we love you), because while he is clearly prone to emotional outbursts, he is also smart as hell and just as cruel, we are yet to see him mess up big time just out of losing his cool (or maybe the consequences just haven't quite caught up to him just yet but I'd argue he is still ahead in that case), so I imagine that the threat of doing it is very much real but he will play it right for his own advantage.

The man is a diva but he is a cunning one, he more so seems to bring it up because he knows that the idea of devastating mc in that way is a threat in and of itself to everyone else that is also vying for her attention, which is 100/10 writing, author you are amazing (if the way that the fic is eating away at my brain wasn't clear indication of that).

I am also once again proud of our mc for *once again* poking holes in his little bible lore, yes bestie you are correct, wtf does it mean for a Guardian to kidnap someone? A question that I personally had when I read his explanation is: if the Guardians can kidnap people across dimensions then why tf can't the cult members or him, the big powerful prophet himself, also do something like that? Wouldn't that be way more helpful than sending uber eats across dimensions to the Others through sacrifices?? He says they need mc to do that but the Guardians have no issue going "yoink :3" over to our dimension to spirit away his followers and at the same time he also wants us to believe that the same Guardians are afraid of him? Sir. Pick a side, you can't have it both ways. Either they are clearly stronger than you and that's why we are all struggling with mc being a non believer or you are the op big shot of this religion whom everyone grovels under, make it make sense ! !

(Also this isn't me trying to point plot holes in your story pls lol I don't think his religion's lack of consistency is a reflection of your writing ever, in fact I think it's really cool cause it adds to the mystery of it all along with making us question him even more, I just have a lot of fun dissecting the snippets of it we do get out of spite for him lmao).

I have some more things I wanted to add but I'll throw them into another ask cause, again, I feel like this is already gonna be annoying to scroll past lmao, so sorry for anyone seeing this, apologies everyone.

But these were my general takes on the chapter, I really enjoyed it as always so thanks for another update Lauren <333 wish you well!!

- 👁👁

LKSJLFKJASDF OMG HI!!!! <33333

First of all let me just say that you will never annoy me w these comments like this is seriously my dream feedback i could cry honestly im so touched that you care so much to type all of this out and that you clearly spend so much time thinking about the answer and really appreciating it and like. YEAH ILY SM DO NOT WORRY !!!!! 

Fun fact about bee and me updating at the same time . we didnt plan it this time . it was in fact random . but there was a time in like… i wanna say december 2022 when bee was writing claire de lune and her and caly and i all conspired to update on the same day and im pretty sure we did and i cant even imagine what it wouldve been like to be a claire de lune/mists of celeste/the answer reader on that day LMFAO

ANYWAYS INTO THE MEAT AAAAAAAAAAA pls these reactions to hj are so real like sometimes ill write something a little bit too … cute ? and then ive gotta reel it back real quick we gotta remember who we’re talking about we gotta stay strong even if he is hot and obsessed 

TY for saying you felt that the chapter was still interesting hehe i guess i felt like people would be expecting a lot from this chapter and i knew it wasnt going to be What Was Expected or like that it wasnt going to go right into the escape attempt like i think some people probably thought SO im glad that the chapter was still … paranoia inducing LMFAO 

No fun fact idk if this is like obvious or not but my grandparents are/were corn farmers so like. Obvs i have spent a lot of time on a corn field. Planting harvesting running around etc. and i was always so freaked out by combine machines theyre literally fucking ENORMOUS like easily 15 feet tall but the good news is they go like. 10mph. But i still wouldnt want to find myself in the path of one AHAHAH !!!!!! ANYWAYS !!!!!!!!!!!!!

eheheheeh yeah the whole scene w the unholy trinity really …. Ooooooo was it fun to write hehe yes the whole situation w haseul is really a big opportunity for hj to keep manipulating mc and something for him to hold over her head and i hope the dramatic irony is coming through w the fact that we obvs know she’s dead but mc has no idea bc i lovvveeeeeee that tension in a story like just waiting and waiting and waiting for mc to find out … ehehe and i like how you point out that hj hasnt really messed up big time or lost his cool bc youre … right … but he’s almost almost getting there and i just love him being unhinged and ………… yeah ill be quiet now heh

UBER EATS SACRIFICES ACROSS DIMENSIONS SENT MEEEEEE LAKDJFL;ASKJDFL;KJA;DFKJ youre so real for these questions and like yes this is exactly the type of thing i want you to be thinking … hehehe keep yourself in mc’s shoes yk … i def get that you’re not trying to point out plot holes hehe dw dw thank you for your compliments hehe

I WILL ANSWER YOUR SECOND ASK NEXT !!! TYSM AGAIN I LOVE YOU MWAH MWAH MWAH i hope you are WELL !!! <3333

#👁👁 anon #answered #the answer spoilers #feedback

[gogobootz1]

You Only Live Twice Ch. 3

Eddie Munson x Reader (eventually)

Takes place the night the FBI officer dies- it just felt weird to skip from the evening portion of that adventure into the next day, so I added a sort of twilight scene despite the show not including one. That’s why this chapter is kind of short and the picture is just vibes.

Warnings: mentions of the dead body and the reader has a nickname

0.8k words

previous chapter next chapter

The sun had disappeared behind the mountains, and you all were left to work with only the last remnants of daylight. Argyle had come to a stop behind a large rock formation, putting you in a graveyard of old abandoned vehicles. Finally, everyone felt safely alone.

No one spoke for a while. The sky darkened, becoming a deeper shade of purple before Argyle burst out of the car and started walking. You clambered out of the passenger seat.

"Argyle, where are you going?" You asked desperately. The boy threw his hands up in the air and kept going. Your shoulders fell and you let out a huff. You figured he'd come back eventually. The van might have had a dead body but it also held pizza... and his stash. Surely those two things would be enough to ensure his return. The boys made their way out of the backseat behind you, staring at Argyle's distancing figure.

"Where is he going?" The black haired boy snapped. You turned around and gave him a halfhearted shrug.

"Hell if I know." You said, leaning one arm against the open door. You turned to look towards Argyle once more, then looked back and shook your head. Accidentally looking inside the van, you caught a glimpse of the dead body.

"How are we supposed to rest after that?" El's boyfriend asked frustratedly, flinging his arm out to gesture to the body.

"Please," you interrupted, "I know this is upsetting, but we have to take one thing at a time."

"And why should I take my cues from you?" He bit back.

"Because I'm the only one giving them," you looked at him pleadingly. "Look, I know you don't like me, but I'm trying to step up here and I'm asking you to work with me." His face softened a bit, more so at the desperate look on your face than your words. "So can getting the body out of the car be step one?"

The older Byers boy shook himself out of his stupor, "yeah, yeah, I'll help." You gave him a nod. You both headed towards the back of the van. He opened the trunk doors to be greeted by the corpse. "What are we supposed to do with him?" He spoke quietly, looking towards you.

"How about we lay him in the sand for tonight and worry about it tomorrow?" You asked tiredly. He gave a weak shrug and a nod, as if to say 'good enough for me.' The two of you moved to grab him, but hesitated.

"I'll take the head," you said sort of reluctantly. You figured he was less familiar with death than yourself, and at least this way he wouldn't have to look it in the face longer than he had to.

"Thanks," he spoke quietly, relieved. Together you heaved the man, his middle often dragging, a good few feet away from the van. You made your way back to close the trunk doors.

"Thank you for- uh- for your help," you paused and tried to fill in his name, "Will."

He shook his head, "Jonathan."

"Damn."

"I'm Will," said the shorter boy, rounding the corner of the van with a light smile.

"Hi Will," you gave him a small sort of wave.

"Mike," the other boy nodded at her half heartedly as he made his way over. You smiled gently and nodded in reply.

"My friends call me James," you said. They looked a little surprised but nodded nonetheless. The group stood quietly for a moment before you broke the silence, "in terms of dinner there are two untouched pizzas up front." The boys seemed to ponder this before voicing their support for the idea.

"I could eat," Jonathan said. He looked at the two younger boys to gauge their opinions, seeing them nod along. At their agreement, you leaned into the front seat and grabbed the two boxes.

"What do you think, should we eat on the sand or in the van?" You looked from the boxes to the three of them.

"Van," was the resounding answer, and you four piled into the backseat.

You unstacked the boxes and opened both of them up, "cheese and pepperoni, take your pick." Just as you went to take a bite, Argyle ambled through the side door the four of you had left open and took the slice out of your hand.

"Dude," you started.

Argyle shook his head, "nah I'm cool, man. Swear." You all looked at him in disbelief. "I took some time... and I'm just gonna worry about it tomorrow." General gestures of agreement came from the group, as you guys decided to rest for the night and handle your problems the following morning.

#stranger things four #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic #eddie munson x reader #eleven #eddie munson x fem!reader #jonathan byers #will byers #mike wheeler

[outlustings]

I was not yelling at you with the twins ask, it was meant in more of a 'not mad just disappointed' tone tbh

But if i may make a request, dear ma'am, reader running away from someone (walker?), running into twins and begging to help them hide

Then they rail the reader as the payment for help?

(made this with an afab reader, let me know if that was a bad call. lol.

warnings for.... oh boy.... dubcon and non-con elements, fuck or die dynamic, fucklicking, double penetration and descriptions of blood and violence and uhhhh. yeah. oml i'm so sorry i need to be JAILED for this.

anyways, enjoy. <3)

×

You ran, lungs stinging, calves on fire, your cuts and bruises thrumming with pain as your vision grew blurry with tears and dust. You could taste the heavy, pungent blood of your own body in the back of your throat.

Your bare feet slapped agains the rough concrete as you jumped over gaps of jutting rebar, the growling behind you growing quieter and quieter as you outran your pursuer. His footsteps still echoed in the endless labyrinth of corridors in the prison complex, and you felt that at any time, that fucker Walker could be jumping in front of you. But now, it seemed like he had lost you. Taking that detour was a great idea.

You cried out, perhaps in victory, wheezing as you jumped over another hole in the floor, darkness beneath your feet before you turned a corner, tossing a glance behind you. Whipping your head around back to where you were running to, you stopped dead in your tracks.

Two men. Two very tall, very muscular, very naked men were there, leaning lazily against the metal bars of a door in the corridor, their dark eyes flicking over to you as you stopped a few yards in front of them. Their weapons glinted in the buzzing light. A small noise bubbled in the nack of your throat, and a panicked grunt spilled from your lips. The twins. You had heard of them.

"Oh look. Another one."

You panted, panic stirring in your gut. You'd rather take on Walker blindfolded than stay with these nude brutes with what looked to be a machete. But you were frozen like a deer in headlights.

"It's not one of them."

It?

"An outsider?"

"By the looks of it."

They stepped closer to you. You took a step back, scrambling on the uneven, slippery floor. You looked down. Blood. Pools of sticky, rotten blood. Their doing, obviously. You let out a small squeak, taking several steps back.

"Look at its eyes," the shorter one said, tapping the flat edge of his meat cleaver against his palm, his eyes glinting.

"So afraid," his brother agreed.

You opened your mouth, but felt the sting of exposed rebar against your heel, making you take your eyes off of them as you tried not to fall into the hole. They took their opportunity, and like wild animals, they pounced, closing you in between them, their broad chests flush against you, strong hands in your hair, pulling your spine straight as you let out a cry.

They inspected you, foul breath fanning over your face as you wiggled in their grasp, trying to push their arms away, your eyes on their weapons.

You felt the razor-sharp edge of the cleaver against your throat. Primal panic flooded every cell in your body as you felt your skin break.

"Please, please," you gasped, "Please, for the love of fucking god, please help me. Please, I'll do anything."

"Walker's after it. How did it manage to piss him off?"

"Let's slit its throat," the shorter man croaked, "It would only be merciful, wouldn't it?"

You sniffled, your breaths caught in your throat.

"No, please! I'll do anything! Please, anything - help me, just, just - help me hide, please!"

You wriggled against their grip, thrusting your ass against the bare hips of the man behind you, clawing at their stiff bodies in desperation as you tried not to hyperventilate.

You could feel stiffening flesh against your clothed ass. The man behind you paused. Grunted.

"It could be of use to us."

"In what way?" his brother hissed.

"We fuck it. It wants it."

A heavy silence fell in the corridor as you sucked in painful breaths, your eyes flickering between the men's rough features and the cool metal of the cleaver against your throat.

They were thinking. You had hope - maybe.

"It's better than killing it."

"You see my point."

You nod against the blade on your throat, almost victoriously, eyes wide as your face contorted into an attempt at a coy smile. It was a grimace.

"I can smell its cunt," he shorter man rasped, his hand moving to your groin, squeezing. You gasped.

"Can you take both of us?" his brother questioned in a low, arid voice.

You nodded, wheezing.

"Yes, yes, of course," you gasped.

"At the same time?"

"Yes - yes, sharing - urk," you choked as the blade dug deeper against your skin, warm blood spilling onto your chest in ribbons of ruby, "Sh-sharing is.... is..."

Caring? What the fuck were you even trying to say?

You jumped as you heard Walker roar about a floor above you, pounding on the rickety doors. You snapped back to reality, gasping:

"Please."

For such bulky men, the twins were quick on their feet, wrestling you into the shadows as you heard stiff metal crack and slam against concrete. A calloused hand cupped over your mouth, and all you could smell and taste was blood. You were dragged into a dark corridor, your feet shuffling lightly against the floor as the men carried you, their eyes on the ceiling as they moved silently.

The shorter man pushed open a door to a solitary cell in a side corridor, its busted hinges creaking, making your heart skip a beat as the three of your slinked inside the pitch black room. You could smell viscera and piss as your heart pounded in your chest painfully, your whimpers muffled against the palm of the taller twin. Both of their eyes, you noticed, were fixed on the door, the small sliver of light that seeped into the room from the dim lights of the corridor.

You could hear heavy bootsteps, much closer now. The bars of the door they were leaning on bent as Walker rattled the handle, the metal clattering against concrete in loud crashes. You gasped, and the man behind you pressed his hand harder over your mouth, hissing in your ear. His brother turned to you, lifting his finger up to his mouth. You nodded feverishly, a single tear rolling down your cheek as you watched the light in the corridor flicker. He was in there.

Every second felt like an hour as you screwed your eyes shut, breathing heavily against the sweaty hand atop your mouth. You heard occasional bangs, roars as the big guy searched for you. You prayed that he wouldn't find you. The noises were close - and then, with a final, mighty yell, the noises started to sound more distance, decreasing in volume as you heard another high-pitched scream. Walker had gotten distracted.

Everything fell silent.

The men waited for a few more moments, the palm on your mouth finally lowered, and you gulped in the mildewy air. Before you could let out a shaky little laugh of relief, you were grabbed by the hair, fingers digging into your scalp, your body pinned against the wall.

Now. Now it would be time for your payment.

               ×

Madness. All of this was madness.

The taller, balding man was below you, his dick against your bare bottom as you squirmed in his grip, your back flush against his hairy chest. He held you in his lap like a doll, his hand on your pussy, pressing against your labia with clumsy strokes that made your abdomen twitch and burn. You could feel two pairs of hands on your naked body, pinching, groping as the man behind pressed sloppy, hungry kisses to the back of your neck, grinding his erection against your folds.

You could feel the blunt tip of his cock against your entrance, your wetness making your cheeks burn in shame as you licked your lips nervously, trying not to seem too desperate to ride his cock as a wild pressure built up inside you.

You shouldn't be enjoying this.

The man before you kneeled, spreading your legs further in his brother's lap, lowering his head to the apex of your thighs with a grin. Before you could protest, you felt a hand snake inbetween your ass and the base of the cock beneath you as the taller man took aim, guiding his cock to your dripping entrance.

You whimpered as he pushed it in with a low groan. You panted, sucking in sharp breaths through your teeth as the burning stretch made your cunt sore. So big.

He started thrusting into you, making you jump up and down on his cock as his brother's fingers dug into the sockets of your hips, pushing your legs even further apart, his apart only an inch or so away from your cunt.

You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to stay sane as you feel large hands wrap around your waist, bouncing you up and down on his twin's lap, his thick cock ramming into your cunt in a steady, harsh rhythm.

You felt so ashamed as you listened to the slick noises of your pussy, the meaty slaps of your ass against stiff muscle, your little whines and sughs as you rode him, your thighs already burning as the wins is knocked out of you with each thrust up into you.

You felt a thumb on your clit, rolling against it lazily, and you gasp, looking down at the shorter brother.

You felt dizzy.

You were fucked from below by his brother as he plants wet kisses on your abdomen, moving down, down to the thatch of hair above your cunt, his tongue flicking out to taste your sweat.

His eyes fixed on yours - before you could protest, his tongue was on your clit, flat and wide, soft and wet as his brother' thrusts drove you further against his mouth. You let out a pathetic whine.

His brother laughed behind you, moving his chin to rest on your shoulder. So he could watch the show.

Your vision went blurry, you felt oddly nauseous, yet your clit was throbbing with need - this is so wrong, you thought to yourself as the cock inside you rolled against your gummy walls, slowly, tenderly as the man between your legs wrapped his lips around your swollen little clit and sucked.

You let out a throaty moan. You felt the taller brother's hands slide up your body, to your chest, his hands on your sensitive nipples as you whimpered in his lap, your clit pulsing in his twin's mouth.

The thrusts begin again, you bouncing you on his lap as the smaller brother's tongue was on your cunt, the feverish, sloppy noises of his breath against your flesh. Your cunt grew wetter by the second, the air thick with arousal as you tried to focus on anything but the insane pleasure.

It felt wrong, but so good. So, so fucking good.

You threw your head back, your hands scrambling for purchase on the thick forearms wrapped around your torso as the shorter man's tongue rolled around your clit, flicking faster and faster as his brother fucked you hard. Deep, fluttering waves of pleasure racked your sweaty body as you bounced on his lap like a fucktoy, your brain shutting down as you bucked into the mouth on your cunt. You clenched around the thickness inside you.

You looked down, watched how the dark eyes of the man beneath you were fixed on yours as he ate you out sloppily, his gaze almost hidden behind his strong brow as he flicked your clit with his tongue over and over again, brows furrowed. A burning sensation coursed through you as his brother's cock hit the upper wall of your canal again and again and again...

Thrashing against the brothers' grip, you screamed and came, thrusting your shuddering hips, the incessant tongue still on you, like attached to your cunt as they sucked and licked and fucked you through an intense orgasm that made your breath shaky.

You panted and whined as the cock inside you slipped out from your quivering, soaking wet hole, resting against your folds as you felt your heartbeat in your pussy. Your breath was stolen away by a toothy, hungry kiss that tasted like your own musk, another set of lips on your shoulderblade, sucking on your tender skin.

"We're not done yet," the shorter man huffed, "I want to feel that cunt."

"Two holes, brother."

Your eyes shot wide open.

"Ah, yes. How could I have been so forgetful?"

You could hear their grins in those odd, monotone voices, you could taste the mirth dripping from their words as you shook your head.

The wind was knocked out of you again as the man behind you reclined, pulling you with him to lie on the filthy mattress, the tip of his fat cock resting against your asshole.

The other man rose up from the floor, climbing up to kneel on the bed, stroking his hard cock, pressing himself against you. You could feel him sliding his length against your throbbing slit, up and down. You shivered.

"No... no..." you croaked out weakly, your head thrumming, fuzzy white splotches of bliss engulfed in a wave of panic, "Not there - it's too much..."

"It's scared. How amusing," the brother below you hummed. You could feel his crooked teeth against the tender skin of your shoulder, his grin seared onto your skin as he huffed against you.

His brother lifted his palm up to your face. You winced, preparing for a smack that never came.

"Spit," he commanded, his cupped hand resting on your bottom lip, nudging your chin. You shook your head.

You could feel the sticky heat of a cock grind against your ass, begging for entry into your tightness, precum and your arousal smearing onto the puckered flesh.

You pleaded.

"I can - I can suck your cock, please, just not - not my ass," you gulped, gasping as you felt the blunt tip slide between your cheeks, "I'm scared," you blurted out, shaking your head again.

"We had an agreement."

The muscles below your body rippled as the taller brother wrapped his hand around your neck, pulling your ear to his mouth, squeezing on your windpipe - a clear warning.

You let out a shaky breath.

Gulping, you swirled the saliva in your mputh around, eyes flickering to the man above you with a final pleading look that you knew to be futile. You spat out a generous glob of spit onto the calloused flesh of his palm, blinking through the tears. You watched, nausea and anticipation twisting in your guts, watched how your spittle dribbled and pooled against the thick fingers that left your lips.

"Good pet," he hummed. His brother grunted in your ear, adjusting you on his lap, spreading your legs wider than you thought was possible. A hand moved between your asscheeks, you felt the cooling spit against your entrance, and without much of a warning, felt how a thick finger dipped in, to the knuckle, stretching you around its girth.

You squealed, screwing your eyes shut, clamping your muscles around the digit inside you.

"Relax," you heard a soft mutter in your ear.

You took several laboured breaths, felt the emptiness of your ass as the hand was pulled away. Then, you felt the blunt tip of a meaty cock against your asshole.

"Oh, god," you whispered as you felt the wet tip move against you, pushing in, in, in, and then - it slipped in and you groaned throatily at the sudden stretch. Your ass was being filled to the brim with the variant's thick shaft, the discomfort of the intrusion making your breathing shallow as you tried to adjust.

It felt awful. But good. You tried to fight against the swelling heat in your abdomen.

"So tight," the man below you hissed.

"Go slow," his twin grunted, "We don't want to break our new toy so soon."

The man below you made a small noise in the back of his throat. Dismissive. He moved his hands to your hips, shifted beneath you, and thrusted in, sheathing himself inside of your butt. Balls deep. You cried out, bucking your hips involuntarily against the other cock that still rested against your clit.

You heard a soft grunt, felt the pressure of a thumb moving against your throbbing clit, rubbing away at the sensitive flesh. You could feel the men adjust on the bed as another blunt prick is guided into you with ease. Your sopping pussy swallowed the shaft greedily, your arousal trickling down to your ass. In the midst of trying to adjust to the fullness in both of your holes, you prayed to any god that would listen - please, let that lube me up.

Then they started moving and your head just about exploded.

Shallow, tender thrusts that made you squeal and whimper as you laid between them like a ragdoll, your hands curled into fists as you tried to cope with the pressure inside you. Your lower body felt paralysed, numb, as they fucked you, except your cunt felt like it was on fire, the slick sounds making you sick.

In and out, brushing against each other, gliding against your sensitive walls. Two cocks, two thick, large cocks stretching your holes, and all you could do was sob quietly into the back of your palm, your brain hazy.

The man inside your cunt moved your legs, guiding you to wrap them around his waist, and you did so. Like the toy they wanted you to be. He bent his upper body on top of you, crushing you tightly between the two of them, two heaving chests trapping you in a cage of dull, wet, sticky pain.

You listened to the sloppy noises of your cunt, heard the snaps of flesh against flesh. Your clit throbbed as the pain in your backside melted into an overwhelming sensitivity and a primal need to shrink away from their grasp. But they kept on fucking you.

You felt the heavy balls of the shorter man slap against your perineum, felt how both of their sacks twitched with need as you whimpered like dying prey inbetween their sweaty bodies. Blood stuck onto your skin as you let their tongues lave over your skin, your pussy throbbing as it was being fucked, your arousal churned into a mess that ran down your thighs, the cock in your ass peaking your arousal.

It was too intense.

"So tight, so lovely..."

They fucked you. Hard.

And all you could do was hold on for dear life as they grunted and panted against you, their sweat stinging the back of your throat as you gasped for air. You could feel how the undersides of their cocks throbbed against your stretched flesh, felt how close they were, how they were going to pump you full of their cum - you felt sick, but a pang of arousal radiated from your clit to your womb, and you found yourself begging silently for something to happen. They drove into you in an erratic rhythm, shallow, sharp thrusts making you moan and groan as everything around you grew blurry.

And suddenly, too late, you realised you were going to come. Your jaw fell slack as your abdomen thrummed with an oncoming orgasm that crashed into you.

You came around their cocks, sudden and sharp, milking them as your body tried to push them out, clamping down on them.

You squealed and cried out, trying to wriggle from their grasp, but they held your bucking hips as still as they could with their strong arms.

And as you felt your muscles clench around the lengths inside you, you could hear the man beneath you groan as your bowels squeezed his cock, and soon, you felt incredible warmth inside your ass. It made you screw your eyes shut as you heard wet, sloppy sounds from between your cheeks, as your brain tried to ignore the awful truth. As you whimpered, you felt your sensitive cunt being flooded with cum as the man atop you shuddered and released inside you with a gruff moan, pushing his hips flush against yours as he emptied his balls inside your pussy, against your cervix.

You could only pant, your eyes wide. You wondered, very distantly through the mist in your brain, how the fuck you ended up in this situation. You winced as the cock inside your ass slipped out of you with a wet pop.

You tried to swallow the lump in your throat, but your mouth was too dry.

The shorter man pulled his hips back, slowly, out of your cunt, and you could feel and hear the cascade of cum that spilled onto the mattress below you as you laid a trembling hand on your heaving abdomen. With dizziness swirling in your head, you swung your legs off the bed and rose to your shaky legs, staring down at the small space between your feet. You watched, with wide, stinging eyes as thick splats of cum dripped onto the tarnished linoleum beneath you.

You couldn't speak.

Your orgasms had cramped you up and your ass felt sore, so you just stared at the floor, trying to compose youraelf as you heard the men lift themselves off the bed as they observed you in silence.

You cleared your throat.

"Okay," you said dumbly, your voice felt distant, like you had to invite it back into your body, "Okay. Thanks. Awesome."

You could feel them staring at you. Puzzled, maybe.

"Can - can I go now?" you squeaked, lifting your eyes off the ground, your gaze flickering between the two men. Silence. Then, the taller one spoke, rising up to his feet from his sitting position on the bed, approaching you in slow, long strides.

"I don't see a reason why you'd want to go," he rasped.

"I -..." you stammered, stepping back.

"We'll keep you safe," he cooed, closing the distance between you, his hand on your hair. Not pulling, but not stroking either. You gulped.

"We'll make sure you're safe. Cared for," his brother chimed in, eyeing you with a slight smile. A pitying smile.

"No, I never - no, we never agreed - w-what?" you shook your head in disbelief, panic constricting your throat as you walked backwards into the door, "No!" you yelled, wincing in dicomfort as adrenaline flooded your naked body, your chest heaving, "Get away from me!"

"So fragile, all alone. See how complete you are with us? We'll keep you safe."

"No!" you shook your head, voice quivering as they pounced on you, pinning you, screaming, to the floor as you tried to wriggle free with your exhausted muscles, "No, no, get off of me! Please, let me go!"

You heard the metallic, scraping sound of the machete being lifted off the ground. You screamed bloody murder, gulping in breaths, wiggling underneath their hands, preparing to go down with a fight - then, you felt a crack against your skull as the handle hit the back of your head and your vision swam as you screamed, your voice distant even in your own head, then, another crack to your head, and you heard yourself groan as everything went black. The last thing you remembered were strong hands on your waist and the spinning in your head as you were slung over a bulky shoulder, and the wetness running down your thighs as you fell into unconsciousness, begging and praying that they'd be gentler the next time.

#damn blaireswife is keeping me FED with these gifs ily bby #outlast #outlast fanfiction #outlast x reader #reader insert #not sfw #afab reader #the twins #the twins x reader

[tommydarlings]

I Can't Help Falling In Love With You | t.h

A/N: Okay, wow. Tbh, I'm really proud of this and I hope you like it as much as I do! :) (when this flops, then I'm gonna slide down the suislide :D) anyway, enjoy! :) ily,liz <3

pairing: mob!tom x mob!reader

warnings: smut (fem + male receiving) swearing, unprotected sex, daddy-kink, blowjob, choking, violent actions

w/c: 5.1k (omg)

Requests: CLOSED

Summary: The leader of the London Mafia is the devil in person and you would do everything you can to end him, wouldn't you?

masterlist || taglist || requests ( in my masterlist)

"I'm not gonna talk to him father!" I yelled at my dad.

"Why?! It's strictly about business anyway!" he yelled back at me. "I'm sorry father, but I'm not gonna talk to the devil in disguise" i said in a slightly calmer voice. "It's just for a few minutes and it's strictly about the mob, okay? He won't hurt you or something" my dad answerd. After a while of thinking about it, I agreed.

"Just for a few minutes and not more" i said quietly.

"yes, thank you y/n" i just nodded with my head before I made my way into the huge conference room where the devil should be.

I hate this man. I could kill him. The problem is… he could kill me too… in seconds.

Thomas Stanley motherfucking Holland.

And now I should go to him and try to make a deal with him, that's gonna be fun. Probably we can't even start to talk about the deal because we're just gonna argue. Like usual.

I opened the door and didn't even looked up to look if he was here yet-

"Well hello darling"

Fuck.

"Hello Thomas" I said with a fake smile.

"I already told that you can call me Tom babygirl" he said.

"And I already told you that you should stop calling me these nicknames because I don't like them" I told him. "Well guess what baby, I don't give a single shit about it" he said with a wide smile.

I just scoffed and shook my head before I sat down on one of the chairs in the room. Tom sat down on the chair at the exact opposite of me.

"So, let's talk about the deal, okay?"

"Okay" Tom nodded.

---

1 week later, after we finally finished the deal, I could relax and went into the library in our mansion. Most of the time I don't even have time to read, but when I got time then I use it and read a few pages of my favorite books. It's something that kinda brings me back into the real world and calms me down quickly. So I don't want to get disturbed.

But of course something- no, someone had to disturb me.

"Hello darling" thomas said as he entered the library with both of his hands in the pockets of his black coat.

"What do you want Holland" I spat back angrily.

"Honestly? You"

I was frozen for a second. It's not that I like him or anything, like i already said, I absolutely hate this man, but he is attractive, i can't deny that. No women can deny that.

"Cat caught your tongue babydoll?" he whispered quietly in my ear from behind. Of course I had to stay infront of the bookshelf with my back to him right now.

"Hmm?" he said in my ear again while I was still pretty frozen.

"get the fuck out of my way Tom" I said with a slightly nervous voice. Suddenly he put both of his arms on my shoulders and slowly traced his fingertips down my arms. I literally started to shiver as he said that,

"pretty little thing" he whisper right in my ear and left a gently peck on the side of my neck. Then he put both of his hands in mine and slowly rubbed this thumb over my hand.

And I let him. I fucking let him.

"I know that you like it baby, I know it" he whispered in the back of my neck before he started to leave kisses at the side of my neck. He was so gentle and soft. His lips were so warm and they felt so fucking good, wait what-

"Okay, stop" I said as I turned around and pushed him away.

"That's sad, it looked like you really enjoyed it darling" he said while he slowly approached me again. As he took the first step forward, I took one backwards but then I remembered that my back is already against the shelf.

Well fuck.

As he stood infront of me, he put both of his hands next to my head and leaned really close. Our noses were nearly touching.

"You don't have to lie to me princess, you know? And when you really wanna test me, then I dare you to do that, we both know that I'm gonna win babydoll" he whispered quietly while he looked me deep in the eyes.

"You may be a Holland, but don't forget that I'm a y/l/n honey" I told him while I held eye contact.

"Cause you exactly know what I'm capable of, you already saw me fighting and taking your men down easily" I added.

"And you exactly know what I'm capable of babygirl"

"Oh please, you are just as weak as your men are Holland" I said with a quick laugh.

"I'm not talking about fighting love" he said with a tiny smirk.

"About what then champ?" I said with a little smile on my face.

"You know what I'm the best at?" he said as he slowly leaned closer so his mouth was hovering over my ear.

"What" I asked before I rolled my eyes.

"Punishments" he whispered.

And as soon as he said that my smile faded and I was frozen… again.

"I knew you would be quiet as soon as I said that. Have you ever got punished before? You know like, did you ever got a few good spanks and a few edges-"

"shut up Thomas" I spat quietly at him.

"You get turned on from the thought of me spanking you and edging you until you beg me to stop, don't you?"

"I-I, n-no i-I don't" I stuttered.

"Don't lie to me princess" he said while he looked me in my eyes again.

"I don't" I said while I looked down at my feet. "Can you say that while you look me in the eyes?" he asked.

I looked him in the eyes, but I couldn't get a single word out.

"That's what I thought" he said before he put both of his hands back in his pockets again and went to the door.

"Where a-are you g-going?" Why did I asked that?!

"I'm gonna go back to work, if you need someone that makes you scream and cry at same time, and I don't mean that in a painful way, then you know where I am" he said before he opened the door and left.

"God please help me" I quietly prayed before I left the library too and went to the gym.

---

"Tom, let me through" I said in a pretty calm voice.

"No" he answered with a tiny smirk.

"Thomas please! I have to be in the meeting like, right now!" I raised my voice at him.

"And?" he asked while he looked down at me. Sadly I'm shorter than him. "And?! When my dad finds out that you are keeping me up here then you. are. dead, holland." he lightly chuckled before he spoke up,

"That would be a shame wouldn't it?" he said with a wide grin while slowly raced his hand and stroked my cheek with his knuckles. "Tom stop" I told him angrily. "You are so sweet when you're angry, you know?"

"Fuck. off" I whispered while I looked him deep in the eyes. That was the last thing i said to him before I pushed him angrily away and stormed through the door.

"Where the fuck where you y/n?" my dad asked with a slightly aggressive voice. I didn't knew which kind of lie I should tell him, so I told him the truth.

"Tom distracted me" I said while I took a seat. "Tom Holland?" he said while he looked at me. "Of course the holland boy dad, who else?" I spat. "Not in that tone young lady" he spat back angrily before he sat down in his own chair and scoffed before he started to talk about some mob business shit while I held back my tears.

It's not that I hate this life, or the mob, it's just that I would love when someone would give me some love.

---

"Thomas, I already told you that it was a mistake" I yelled at him. "But this mistake could have killed you" he yelled back at me. I looked him deep in the eyes before I quietly said,

"Why do you even care?"

He just stared at me with an open mouth and slightly wide eyes. He looked at me like he just got caught stealing something. "I-I don't care about you or anything, i-i could have been dead too, a-and w-when you would have been i-in trouble, t-then I wouldn't have hesitate to save MY ass"

Slowly, a smile made it's way to my face before I spoke up again,

"You're lying" I whispered.

"I d-don't lie'' he said quietly. "You do, because every time when you lie, you stutter thomas" he slowly approached me. Probably a habit of him. As he stood right infront of me, he looked me right into the eyes. He basically looked me right into the soul before he said,

"I didn't lied and I don't care about you. When you would get killed, then I would stand next to your corpse and would be sad that I didn't killed you" he slowly said.

And as he said that, I just thought one thing,

Don't fucking cry now y/n, you already know that nobody loves you.

I exactly knew that he hates me, just like I hate him, but I would have never said something that cruel to him. But of course I couldn't stop the tears they were threatening to spill. I looked down at my feet before I quickly wiped the tear away.

"Are you cryi-"

"I hate you" I said before he could finish his sentence. The last thing I saw before I stormed out of the big conference room, was a guilty look painted on Tom's face.

---

I sat silently in my bedroom and thought about a few things,

'I can't', 'I can't fucking like him', 'I can't fucking love him', 'It's impossible'. I thought the entire time. We are enemies since the second we saw each other. We hate each other. We have to, we don't have another option. Why am I even thinking about that? He hates me and I should hate him. But I can't. It's not that I adore this man and would do anything for him, I would just sacrifice my life for him-

Fuck.

I'm head over heels for him.

Suddenly someone knocked on my door.

"Come in" I said. Suddenly Tom came in, wearing a tight white button up shirt and dark blue dress pants. He looked so unbelievably hot but at the same time he was my enemy. I thought about his messy hair and rosy cheeks and red lips, they look so fucking soft, I would love to kiss them and touch his body-

"You good y/n?" he asked as he sat down next to me on the bed. And of course he had to spread his legs and fold his hands.

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine" I answered quickly. God I'm so done.

"I wanted to apologize for what I said earlier, so… I'm sorry"

Did he just seriously apologized? Wow.

"It's okay, you were right" I said with a tiny but sad laugh. "You were right" he suddenly said. "What do you mean?" I said while I looked at him. Tom got up and stood now infront me.

"I do care about you"

"What?"

"You were right, I lied. I really care about y/n, and I'm sorry that I treated you that way"

"Seriously?" I got up now too and stood right infront of him. He just nodded quickly before he said,

"yes, uhm, that's it, I'm gonna go now, by dollface" he said with a tiny smirk before he left the room.

"fuck off" I laughed while I made my way downstairs.

---

"I hate work" I quietly whispered to myself while I buried my head in my hands desperately. Suddenly the door opened and Tom walked in. "Get out of here" he said without any sign of kindness. "What?" I asked with a laugh. "I think you heard me princess, out. of. here" I stood up from my chair and scoffed before I walked over to him.

"No" I said with a tiny grin.

"No?, darling I'm in charge here, okay?, so you're gonna walk out of this room and let me do my work that I have to do, alright?" he said pretty seriously. I shaked my head with a smile painted on my face. "I don't wanna drag out of the room y/n, c'mon" he said with a hint of anger in his voice but I shaked my head and he scoffed. "Why can't you just listen for once." Out of nowhere he grabbed my throat and pressed me against the wall behind me. "You're gonna listen to me" he whispered before he went on,

"When I tell you to do something, then your gonna do it, don't you?" he asked while he looked at me. That went right to my pussy.

"And what are you gonna do when I don't want to do what you say?" of course y/n y/l/n tried to push his buttons. "Then it's gonna get a big big mess babygirl" he smiled. He fucking smiled.

"A bloody mess?" I asked with a grin. "No, no, not a bloody mess but a wet mess" he whispered.

"fuck you" I whispered. "oh yes, I'm gonna do that" he said before he crashed his lips on mine harshly. He put both of his hands on my cheeks while I opened his button up shirt and pulled it off of his body. Just a few seconds later he pulled my shirt off and threw it to the side. "You're eager, aren't you?" I asked while he put his pants off. God his body is a masterpiece.

"Shut up" he said while I put my pants and bra off. "Make me" I said. He looked me in the eyes with a tiny smirk before he picked me up and laid me down onto the table. He went down on his knees infront of me and pulled my panties down my legs before he started to give tiny kitten licks to my already wet pussy.

"Fuuuuck" I whispered before he started to really eat me out. "Fuck daddy" I cried out. "Say that again" Tom said before he sucked on my clit and flicked his tongue over it afterwards. "Oh my God, please daddy" I cried out even louder. He flicked my clit with the tip of his tongue so fast and good that I came quickly.

"FUCK, your gonna make me cum" I said quietly while I arched my back. But after he made me cum, he didn't stopped. He went on with flicking the tip of his tongue quickly over my sensitive clit. I started to wiggle away from him but he grabbed my legs and put me back in place again. "Shh, just a little bit more" he whispered. Suddenly he spit right on my pussy and collected the spit with two fingers before he shoved his wet fingers into my pussy. "Oh my g-god, please" I stuttered out.

He started to pump his finger faster and faster and after a few seconds he found the spot that made me go crazy. "Ahhh fuck daddy please, please, please" I screamed.

"Come for me doll, come for daddy" he said while he looked me in the eyes. You heard right. He looked me in the eyes while he ate. me. out.

"FUCK" I yelled as I came for the second time on his tongue and fingers. After he cleaned me up, he stood up and looked at me.

"You're gonna be a good girl and take my cock?" he asked. "Yes Daddy" I answered back quietly. "Good girl" he whispered in my ear before he pulled his boxer down and started to enter me. "oh fuck" I quickly cursed before he started to ram into me mercilessly.

"So fucking tight, such a good girl, just for me, right?" I just nodded with my head before my eyes rolled into the back of my head quickly. Suddenly he put his hand on my throat again and lightly choked me. And fuck was that good.

"Feels so good d-daddy" I whispered. He put the thumb of his other hand on my clit and started to rub it quickly.

"OH MY GOD" I cried out really loud. "Take it, take it, take it" tom spat quietly. "I'm gonna cum daddy" I told him. He went even faster, with his cock and his thumb. And then my orgasm washed me while I screamed as loud as I could while tears were running down my cheeks.Tom shut his eyes tightly and let out a tiny 'fuck' after he came. But I couldn't even notice more before I blacked out.

---

I woke up in my bed, but I could remember exactly what happened yesterday in the conference room. The worst thing is, I still like, no, love this man. How? I honestly don't know. He just makes me… weak.

I threw my work clothes on and went downstairs into the conference room to see if my father was there but the only person that was in the room was the one and only Tom of course.

"Oh, hello darling" he said politely.

"Hello?" I said but it kinda sounded more like a question. "Are you okay?" he asked me. I just nodded with my head before I made my way to the door again but Tom's hand on my wrist stopped me immediately. "Can we talk?" he suddenly said pretty shy. I just nodded again while I turned around to face him and leaned back against the door. "What's up" I said. What the fuck y/n?! Why would you say 'what's up'? You exactly know what happened yesterday and you can't change it. Neither of you can. What you two didn't knew is that neither of you too wanted to change it.

"Can we maybe talk about last night?" he suddenly said. "Yeah, yeah of course, what about last night?" I asked quietly. "I-I, fuck, I don't know how to say that-" but before he could finish his sentence, I interrupted him,

"You think it was a mistake and you asked me to forget it and to not mention it ever again because you hate me and that was just a stupid one night stand thing for you" I told him. He just stared at me for multiple seconds before he opened his mouth and spoke up,

"No"

"What do you mean with 'no'?"

"y/n, I know how I treated you and how rude and cruel I am to you, but that what we did last night wasn't a damn one night stand" he said calmly. "What was it then to you?" I asked him.

"What was it to you?" he asked me back. I had to swallow before I answered,

"I don't think that it meant the same to you as it meant to me" I said quietly while I looked at him. He let out a tiny laugh before he said,

"It meant a lot to me" hold on what did he just said?!

"What, s-seriously?" I asked with already glassy eyes. I just dreamed right?

"Y/n, when I told you that I would save my ass and that I would be happy when you would be dead, then I didn't meant that at all. I care about you, a lot actually and I would rather sacrifice my ass to save yours" he said with a tiny laugh.

I slowly approached him and asked,

"You are not lying?"

"I'm not lying"

As soon as he said I leaned forward gave him a tiny peck to test if he really wants that, and yes he does, he leaned forward and kissed me properly on the lips while he put of his hands softly on my waist and I put my hands on his shoulders. He slowly started to walk forward so that i had to walk backwards and backed me up against the wall, at first I thought that we are gonna the same thing like last night but he just put one of his hands on my cheek and looked me deep in the eyes.

"I really like you y/n"

"I really like you too"

He kissed my forehead gently before we went on with our little make out session.

---

"Tom, no!" I yelled at him. "Why not?!" he yelled back loudly. "Because, when my dad is gonna catch us in the conference room then we are both dead and you know that!" I screamed at my boyfriend.

Tom wanted to make out in the conference room, that my father is probably gonna enter soon. "Who gives a fuck about him" he yelled back at me. "Tom, how do you think my dad will look at us when he sees us not sliding each other's throats!, What do you think is he gonna do huh?!"

"But we are together y/n, we are in a relationship and we are fucking adults so we are allowed to do that! We love each other!"

"In this world is no place for love Thomas!"

Silent.

I instantly regret what I said. I looked at him and I could already see tears building up in his eyes.

"So you don't love me?" he asked quietly and unsure. "No! That not what I meant. Tom, it's just that this world wasn't made for love, okay? I know that we love each other, you love me and I love you, so so so much tommy but this world that we are living in is dangerous, okay?" I told him before I slowly approached him. I put my hands in his hands and gave him a small but gentle peck on the cheek.

"I love you" I whispered.

"I l-love you too darling" he said quietly.

"I'm so sorry for what I said, I hope you forgive me" I said while I laid my head on his chest. He is always so warm and caring and gentle with me.

"Yeah baby, I forgive you" he said with a tiny smile on his gorgeous face. "Thank you" I answered before I pecked his nose. "I'm gonna take a shower" I said quietly while I looked him deep in the eyes. "Mind if I join?" he asked with a smirk. "Not at all… " I slowly leaned forward to whisper in his ear and said,

"daddy"

Before I could even blink, he threw me over the shoulder and made his way to the bathroom.

---

"Fuuuuck babygirl, you take me so well" he whispered while I tried to take his entire member in my mouth. And fuck was that hard because he was so big. Suddenly he started to thrust his hips and I gagged loudly. "You can take it kitten, I know you can" he spat quitely. Tears were rolling down my cheeks as I gagged around him, but It was so fucking hot and rough Tom is the best thing you can get. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum" he said while he shut his eyes. After he came, I swallowed everything and then I stood up and we got out of the shower. He grabbed the back of my neck tightly and turned me around. Our noses touched while he looked me deep in the eyes. "You're mine, understand?" I nodded with my head quickly before he spoke up again,

"That was a great shower don't you thing doll" he said with a huge grin on his face after he let my neck go slowly. I just rolled my eyes before I started to dry my body with my towel. But before I could take my brush to brush through my hair and get the knots out, tom took the brush from my hand and started to gently brush my hair while he stood behind me just in a Calvin klein boxer and grey sweatpants. He gently brushed through them while I watched him in the mirror infront of me. "Mhhmm" I moaned with a tiny smile written on my face. "Don't moan or I'm gonna take you right against the counter princess" he slowly whispered into my ear while he still brushed gently through my hair. "sorry… daddy" he just scoffed before he gave me the 'warning gaze'. I started to laugh and he put the brush aside to grab the lotion. "Are you laughing at me?" he asked with 'fake shook' on his face. "Sorry bubu, your just so sweet" I said between laughter. "You're even sweeter my love" he answered as he applied some lotion on my back and slowly rubbed it in. "That feels good baby, thank you" I said. "No, thank you" he told me while he looked in the mirror where our eyes met. "For what?" I asked with a tiny smile. "For being the best girlfriend ever" he whispered before he gave me a small peck on my temple. I smile before I answerd,

"I love you so damn much Tommy" he rubbed his hands slowly over my shoulders before he spoke up,

"I love you too princess" I used to hate this name, but now I love it.

---

I sat in my room, crying silently on my bed all alone. To have a dad that is just focused on the mob and basically didn't gives a single shit about his own daughter Is hard and it fucking hurts. But luckily i got a caring boyfriend that should be here any minute-

"Hey babygirl, what's wrong?" he asked as he came into the bedroom. "Is it your dad again?" he added after a while. I just nodded with my head before I started to let more sob's out. "No, no, no, you know that I don't like it when you cry princess" he said as he sat down next to me and pulled me into his chest. He hold me tightly in his arms before I spoke up,

"I'm s-sorry" he just looked at me before he said,

"For what?" I looked at him briefly before I looked down at my lap again. "For i-interrupting you t-tommy"

"No, no, there's nothing to be sorry about, okay? I love you and I'm gonna be here for you, you understand?" I nodded with my head quickly before I looked him deep in the eyes. Suddenly he pulled me on his lap so that I straddled him and laid both of his hands on my hips. We both looked at each other's lips briefly before I slowly leaned in and captured his soft lips in a gentle kiss. "I" kiss. "love" kiss. "you" kiss. "so" kiss. "much" kiss. I laughed at him before I kissed his forehead gently and said,

"I love you too so much"

"Can we cuddle?" I added. Tom laughed before he answered,

"Of course darling, anything for you"

I laid down while Tom laid behind me and he threw his hand around me and pulled me into him. "Good night Tommy" I whispered. "Good night baby" he whispered back before we both fell into a deep but wonderful sleep.

---

It was the worst day of your life. Tom was kneeling on the ground, I stood behind him and my father stood infront of us with his gun pointed at me while I had my gun against Tom's temple. Yes, you heard right. Tom's fucking temple.

"Kill him y/n, prove your father that you are strong enough to lead the mob, just like me princessa" my father told me while tears started to build up in my eyes. My father found out about Tom's and my relationship. He went crazy, he freaked out and yelled at us and went absolutely mad. I saw a lot sides from my father already, but not this one. And it kinda made me shit my pants. He demanded me to shoot Thomas so I could prove to him that Tom would be a bad influence for me and the mob. The things is that I would rather die that kill my own fucking boyfriend. Only problem, my father doesn't care.

"You k-know that i-i can't father" I whispered while tears were rolling down my cheeks. "Just do it y/n, it's okay, we had a great time didn't we?" Tom slightly laughed but then I could hear him sob. My father just laughed before he spoke up,

"That's no love that you little kids have, that's just some random bullshit, shoot him" he answered with a laugh. Tom swallowed and I couldn't stop the tears. We both couldn't. "I love you princess, so much" Tom whispered quietly. I just shaked my head while I let sob's out and looked at my dad again. "I don't give a-a fuck a-about the m-mob anymore, I love t-Tom and when you c-can't accept t-that then I'm really sorry" I quietly said. My dad laughed before he said,

"Wait, what do you mean with 'then I'm really sorry' y/n?" he asked.

"I love Thomas, and I fucking hate you" I said before I shot my father in his right shoulder. Tom closed his eyes tightly but when I put both of my hands in his cheeks he opened them again. "Are you okay?" Tom asked me quickly. I nodded with my head before I hugged him tightly. "I'm so sorry baby" I shaked my head quickly and answered,

"No, I'm sorry"

"No, you shouldn't be, I'm supposed to protect you, to protect you from situations like that doll, but I didn't and I'm so sorry" he said quietly. "It's okay Tommy, I love you" "I love you too" he said before we shared a loving kiss. After that, Tom and i got up and went to my father who was laying desperately on the ground.

"Fuck you daddy" I told him.

"Why p-princess, w-why" he weakly asked. Before I could response, Tom spoke up,

"By the way, your daughter calls me daddy too" he said with a wink. And those were the last words my father heard. The best last words even in my opinion. I laughed at my boyfriend before he picked me up and ran towards the bedroom.

"What are you doing?" I asked between laughter. "Oh, I'm just gonna make you beg, scream and cry, okay?" he asked. And as soon as I heard these words I was screwed.

"Yes daddy"

"Good girl"

-`ღ´- ᶫᵒᵛᵉᵧₒᵤ -`ღ´-

Taglist:

@goodgirlgonetom @majo240820 @misshale21 @itstaskeen @pure-ghost @justafangirlduh @elizabeth-brown @roseke @onyourgoddamnleft @lovelyxtom

#tom holland #tomholland #tom holland fanfiction #tomholland x reader #tom holland x reader #fanfiction #tom holland fluff #fanfic #tom holland smut #mob tom holland #mob au #tom holland mob au #mob!tom holland #mob!tom

[apixrl]

DROWSY.

levi ackerman x fem!reader

WARNING(S): none

word count: 3.4k

song: before i close my eyes // xxxtentacion

note(s): soft levi lives in my head rent free and that's perfectly okay he can stay for as long as he wants to

Your hand pressed against your back as you stretched, stifling a yawn that echoed through the hallway. You swore you could hear your joints wailing out in distress, every step feeling as though you were dragging a weight behind you that was five times your size. Your bed was calling out to you in more ways than you could count, the idea of snuggling under the covers absolutely heavenly.

It had been a long and tiresome day, to say the least. After waking up early and in bright spirits, you made the decision to go on a long morning jog. To ready yourself for a presumably easy day. But those words came back to bite you when Captain Levi dropped you and your comrades into an intense training segment that lasted all morning. Then proceeded a heavy clean of headquarters in the afternoon. Ordered to rid the underside of the tables of dust and to clear those sneaky corners of muck that had festered far too long. To put a long story short; you were about ready to drop dead on the floor by the time evening rolled on by.

You loved Levi with all your heart, but unfortunately, your relationship with him didn't come with any bonuses. Yes, you saw a softer side on occasion, but the man never allowed bias to take over during work hours. You were treated the same as the others; a soldier in the ranks. A member of Levi's squad. When you did right you were praised and when you did wrong you served the consequences. Levi would set you on a thirty lap run around the camp perimeter if he saw fit, and there was no getting out of it. As much as you could complain, you knew it was for the best. When it came down to it, Levi was your superior as well as his partner and there had to be some line between the two.

Plodding along the hallway, your bedroom door up ahead was your saviour. You could practically taste the sweet rest waiting for you on the other side. Though just before you could reach your salvation, a voice from the neighbouring room stopped you in your step and tore you away from it.

"Y/N,"

Levi.

It would be lying to say you didn't whimper, so close to a good night's sleep yet so far all in one go. But you weren't so selfish that you'd ignore your lover's call because you were simply exhausted. Yes, you considered it... but resisting the urge gave you credibility, right?

Regardless, you exhaled a sigh knowing it would be wrong not to respond. That man you called your partner had ears like a cat anyway. He probably heard you make your way down the hall or noticed your shadow under the door and had sensed your halt upon his call. So dragging your eyes away from the vision of your wonderfully made bed (Levi having been the one to tuck the sheets in that morning since he was the last one up. So no wonder you were fantasizing at the idea of collapsing on there) behind the door of your room, you set your gaze on the door to Levi's office instead.

You realised it was open just a tad, explaining Levi sensing your approach so easily. Pressing your hands against the wooden frame, you pushed it open and popped your head around the door, forcing your eyes open no matter how much they pleaded to close against the candlelight.

As expected, Levi was seated at the chair of his desk. Neck-deep in papers that he'd been working on most of the night. One shorter pile to the left and a taller one to the right - one pile waiting to be looked at whilst the other sat completed. You wondered which one that was... and prayed for Levi's sake it was the tallest pile to allow him a good night's sleep.

His greyed eyes didn't look up upon your entry, something you just managed to notice through the strands of wispy black locks atop Levi's head. That seemed to indicate he was focused on the task at hand, especially from the way his hand efficiently worked at the pieces of paper like it was on autopilot.

"Yes, love?" You asked, resting against the door for a brief moment as your tiredness caught up with you. If you had reacted to it a second later you believed you would have tipped over from loss of balance, and you were relieved when Levi spoke up once more - his voice jolting you upright.

"I need you to take some papers down to the Commander for me," Levi stated, a certain tone in his voice indicating his own form of tiredness. But you knew that rarely stopped him and his work, the man willing to stay up until the early hours of the morning just to get it finished.

His words made your body panic, unsure if it could muster a journey all the way to Erwin's whereabouts. You had barely walked up the stairs of headquarters well, let alone travelling back down them and then all the way back up again.

"It can't wait until tomorrow?" You tried, chewing the inside of your cheek gingerly. From the way Levi glanced over his wad of papers, grey eyes filled with doubt, you knew it was a longshot. "It's just late, that's all. You need to rest,"

"No," Levi ceased all action, slouching down in his seat briefly as his fingertips held the bridge of his nose. His version of a short break and a way to bury his annoyance down. It appeared to be one of those nights, where he was swamped with work and didn't have the opportunity to simply 'head to bed'. "I'm still nowhere near done, and I don't have the time to take the ones I've already looked at to Erwin because of that," It was there his hand propped up, elbow resting on his other which has splayed over his chest. He motioned you over, eyes skipping between you and the seat opposite him until you got the message.

You were delayed in realising, feeling guilty at your inability to proceed Levi's words. You heard them, but fatigue seemed to seize hold and throw them out the window before your brain could comprehend the meaning. You hoisted yourself off of the doorframe, letting the hinges squeak the door shut behind you as you made your way to Levi's desk. You then sat yourself down, hands pressed to the chair arms as your attention steered to your partner.

"Okay... so which pile am I taking?" Was your question, forcing a small smile to at least seem interested. The black-haired man straightened up, eyes skimming over the papers on his desk and seemingly on the floor too. That made your brow raise, head tilting to the side ever so slightly in wonder. What was behind the desk?

Levi proceeded to push his chair back with his feet, his head quickly disappearing under the table as if to grab something. You rested your cheek in your palm as you waited, a hint of a frown as you waited. Your assumptions were correct as, after a few seconds of scuffling around, Levi reappeared from under the desk - standing up to place yet another pile of paper wherever his desk had the space to hold it.

"This one," He addressed, exhaling heavily once he was comfortable in his seat again. Just when you thought that was it, Levi pushed the taller pile of papers forward as well, and it would be wrong to say you were joyful of the sight. In fact, you were very much dismayed, the sight of the multiple piles of papers meaning more than one trip.

Suddenly you wished the shorter pile was the finished one.

"And this one," Levi spoke with little character as per usual, gazing upon the piles of papers like they were nothing more than a pile of dirt. Clearly, he had experienced little joy going through them, but work never got done whilst complaining. The only words ringing in his mind to convince Levi to get his head down and focus. "You'll probably need to take two trips,"

"You don't say," You commented and sighed to yourself. For hours you had awaited your mattress and now look at you, even further away from reaching it as before. It was a big shame you woke up in such an energetic mood and was ending the day feeling like you couldn't lift a finger. "And if I cant find Commander Erwin?"

"He should be in his office," Levi returned. "But if not, place the right pile on his desk," He then gestured to the left, hand pressing on top for emphasis. "This one will need sorting, however. Just separate the tags in the stack and the drawer they belong in is on there. It shouldn't take you too long, just make sure the files are in the right place or Erwin won't be pleased. Oh, and try not to drop them, please? I'd rather not lose four hours worth of work because of your two left feet -," Levi was cut short by a sound he was not at all expecting. A snorting noise caught him off guard, but when he looked up at you in question the answers quickly came pouring in.

It appeared in Levi's ramble you had grown bored. As there you were, head lolling forwards as your arm tried to prop it up, eyes closed and snoring away to your heart's content. Levi quirked a brow at your behaviour, then scoffed lightly. The man couldn't say he was surprised, of course you would nod off to sleep exactly when he needed your help. At a time where he was swamped with things to do and an extra pair of hands wouldn't hurt.

"Y/N," He tried after a minute or so passed, Levi frowning at the lack of response. If anything, the snoring grew louder. It was there he tried again, a little more firmly and loudly but still, nothing.

Typical.

Levi sat there in silence and disbelief, watching your frame rise and fall with each intake of breath. Meanwhile, you simply slept on without a care in the world, but it's not like he could leave you there. Leaving you sleeping in such a way was bound to cause a nasty neck and backache the following morning. So with a sigh, Levi hoisted himself out of his chair and walked around his desk to your side. Then he knelt down to your level, hand landing on your shoulder to give you a gentle but firm shake.

"Y/N," Levi spoke, a little softer this time, all whilst trying to nudge you awake. It appeared you had only lightly nodded off, as, after three or four shakes, you stirred out of your little nap. Your eyes shot open to meet Levi's observing you closely, a hint of a frown to his face as he did. In your state you barely noticed though, too busy trying to shake off your drowsiness but failing miserably as your eyes merely drooped more.

"Levi?" You mumbled tiredly, lifting your gaze towards your lover, puzzled over why he was so close to you. "What is it?"

"You fell asleep," Levi said with hesitancy, glancing away from you for a second before he continued. "Is everything alright?"

"Hm? Yes... everything's fine," You reassured, sending him a reassuring smile. Levi narrowed his gaze, prompting you to keep going. "It's just been a long day, that's all,"

"I see," Levi nodded, noticing your lack of attentiveness and sleepy demeanour. All of which you tried to force back through your smile. But Levi knew you better than that. He could see straight through the façade just how you could see straight through his, acting as though you were fine when it was truly quite the opposite. That was enough for Levi to suspect something was up, and that little switch in his head that differed between his role as Captain and partner flipped in an instant.

"Sorry... y-you were saying something before I dropped off weren't you?" You asked and pointed to the papers on the table. "Something about them?"

Levi turned to look at where you gestured, seeing the papers that still needed taking to Erwin. He contemplated still asking for your help, but it was obvious from just the way you looked alone that you were long desperate for rest. So exhaling a small sigh, Levi reluctantly cast his gaze back onto you and shook his head.

"No, don't worry about it," He allowed his hand to leave your shoulder and moved it to your face. Where he tucked a few loose strands of your H/C hair behind your ear, continuing. "It can wait until tomorrow,"

"Are you sure?" You asked through a yawn, leaning into the hand that Levi proceeded to support your cheek with. The subtle graze of his thumb over your cheekbone relaxing you to the point sleep nearly stole you from him once more.

As much as he disliked tampering with his organised routine, Levi knew sending you on errands whilst so tired would do you no good the next day. Perhaps he had pushed you a little far without realising, the thought running through his mind later on in the morning. You'd been lagging behind your comrades more than usual. Much opposing to you typically being at the front of the group and urging them on over the other way around. Whilst it wasn't as obvious in the afternoon, the strain in your expression as you scrubbed the floors and countertops had peeked its way through to him. Levi knew you in and out, and the frustration displayed ran much deeper than that of germs and bacteria. That was blatant now more than ever, so the least you deserved was a good night's rest. Just because he could run on little hours of sleep didn't mean you could.

"Yeah," Levi admired you under the dim light of his office after he spoke. Your inattentive gaze somehow continued to hold such focus as you looked back at him. The way you smiled with such love and yearn. How your cheek felt warm in his palm like he was holding the entire world. Which he was really. He was holding his entire world.

"Oh... okay," You said and your eyes drooped shut, not reopening. That brought Levi to act, blinking out of his daze and pulling himself to his feet with a sharp inhale.

"Come on, let's get you to bed," He said and slipped his arms around you, lifting you into their secure hold. You didn't protest, too tired to make a sound as you adjusted to the new position. A comfier position that ensured security and safety. One hand supported your back as Levi's bicep acted as your pillow and his spare arm hooked under your legs. You could feel the ever so gentle thump of Levi's heartbeat close to your ear, much opposing to his regular temperament - curt and firm and even quite harsh at the most.

Levi carried you out of his office, using his foot to open the door as he proceeded to venture down the hall to your shared bedroom. The place you had been going to before you were called to his aid. You kept your eyes closed the entire time but didn't nod off just yet, the bobbing motion of Levi's walk both drifting and stirring you from sleep. It wasn't long before Levi was pulling back the sheets whilst he only just managed to hold you with one arm. You made it easier by wrapping your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck, giggling lightly to yourself when you almost slipped. Somewhere in Levi's silence, he found it amusing. Perhaps not verbally placed, but you sensed it nonetheless. Still, he downplayed it with concern, his hand pressing against your back to hold you closely against his frame.

He placed you down with care, hand only leaving your back once it rested on the mattress. Sliding it out, it returned to the sheets as he placed them back over you. Meanwhile, you watched through half-lidded eyes, following where Levi's gaze trailed. Mainly sticking to the sheets he tucked in for you out of the goodness of his heart, though flickered back to you on occasion. His eyes contained a warmth that opposed their normal grey colour. A warmth that he usually failed to place into the spoken word and resorted to showing it rather than saying it.

Eventually, Levi finished, his hands stopping their skilful movement and pressing into the pillow on either side of your head. He was silent for a moment, observing your tiresome state and realising just how fatigued he was too. He battled the urge to collapse on the bed beside you, pull you into his arms and fall fast asleep. To ignore his duties for just one night. Give himself a treat and spend the night snoozing away like the everyday citizen. But Levi knew that was irresponsible. He had been irresponsible enough leaving the paperwork so late. It also wasn't the life he had been fated to lead, regardless of how pleasant the idea may be in the subconscious of his mind.

"I still have a lot of work to do," He uttered no louder than a whisper, exhaling deeply in an apologetic sigh and hating the idea of traipsing back to his office to work. "I'll have to join you later but I'm guessing you'll be asleep,"

"It's okay," You hummed, head tilting to the side as an innocent smile formed on your face. "Do I get a kiss good night, at least?"

Levi couldn't fight the small chuckle that escaped him, head proceeding to hang forwards and shake too and fro at your words. He truly felt he didn't deserve you and the love you gave him. Always so understanding, never complaining about his packed work schedule. How you made him feel steady and kept him sane. Perhaps it was because you were a soldier too and knew how time-consuming the job was, but Levi was grateful for all of it. The man met your eyes, a certain radiance in them that he'd refrain from showing to anyone else other than you.

"You're twenty-nine years old and you act like a child," He remarked with no ill intent, the laugh that elicited from you music to his ears.

"Yeah, and you chose to -," You were cut off, Levi leaning forwards to press his lips to yours in a tender kiss. You hummed in approval, forgetting the words you planned to say and instead enjoyed the display of affection. Levi lingered longer than usual, an indirect apology for the fact he had to leave you with the bed half cold. You didn't question it, knowing Levi's work never truly stopped and granted him a break. The fact he'd even paused just to tuck you in comfortably was enough to satisfy your needs, whether Levi would believe that or not was up to him. But your eyes fell closed, both from bliss and sleep catching up to claim control.

Gradually your lips loosened on Levi's, indicating you had nodded off. He opened his eyes and pulled back in question, watching your head tilt faintly to the side as your pillow held its weight. Levi exhaled deeply, leaning down to plant one final kiss on your forehead. Then he hoisted himself off of the bed and walked to the door.

"Good night, Y/N," He said once there, glancing back at you one final time. From where he stood, you appeared merrily at peace. Finally grateful for the embrace of your bedsheets after a dragging day of nonstop training. Levi did feel somewhat bad for being a cause for your tiredness, knowing that he could sometimes be cruel when playing his 'Captain' role. But he couldn't favour you just because of his feelings, and the fact you rarely made that an issue provided him relief like no other. Still, Levi's guilt asserted as he closed the bedroom door quietly behind him.

Why... it wouldn't be terrible if he let you sleep in a little bit past the wake-up call, would it?

#attack on titan #shingeki no kyoujin x reader #attack on titan x reader #levi ackerman #levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman x y/n #shingeki no kyojin #levi ackerman fluff #fluff #x reader #anime x reader

[casualreader1234]

Reunion

Pairing: Natasha x Reader

An: Part two of the random story idea I had. I think I'm just going to keep the same summary each time because I'm too bad at writing them. I tried to make this gender-neutral, and I don't think I wrote anything that would imply a particular sex, but let me know.

Summary: What if you weren't the hero of the story? What if you were the villain meant to burn the world down?

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Warning: Morally gray protagonist, violence

Word Count: 2k

[Part 1], [Part 2]

This gif is so funny to me.

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

When you had first arrived in the U.S, you had been intrigued by tales of the infamous Black Widow, a former Russian assassin turned good, that was enough to catch anyone's attention. To satisfy your curiosity, you had tracked her down, wanting to see her for yourself. Watching her from afar, you understood why she was considered one of the best in her field: her movements always flowed into the next like she was performing a dance.

She easily disposed of her targets, strapping her weapons back onto herself. Seeing the completion of her job, you left the ledge of the building you had been standing of before she could see you. Slipping into the shadow, you had to admit that your interests had been piqued by the assassin.

///

You had always known that your girlfriend had been hiding secrets, but this one was far more exciting than you had thought. Never had it crossed your mind that Natasha might also be involve in the assassin industry. For such a planet, what were the chances of two assassins meeting and starting a relationship without either being the wiser. You weren't sure if that made her exceptionally good at her job, or you exceptionally bad at yours.

Asking around to some of your other contacts, you learned more about the KGB and the Red Room program that had trained Natasha, wanting a glimpse into her childhood. Disgust and rage filled you when you learned about the operation. They had hurt her, so you had made sure they all suffered for their crimes. Then, you returned back to America.

It was the reason you had stayed all these years. She was the reason. Though you've known where she's been all this time, you never revealed yourself. Maybe it was out of fear. Maybe it was out of shame.

It hadn't surprised you that Natasha decided to work for SHIELD. You've also known that she had a good heart, but it did make things more complicated.

She was one of the good guys now. If she ever crossed paths with you, she would be forced to face you as an enemy. So, for both of your sakes, you avoided doing things that would get SHIELD attention, carefully selecting jobs that would run under the radar. You had been careful, erasing most of your tracks, yet here you were, chained down to a table in a SHIELD facility.

Natalia-no-Natasha stared down at you. You unconsciously cringed under her intense gaze.

" How are you darling?" You asked, breaking the thick silence and giving her a small smile. "I must say, you look as stunning as always. Did you do something to your hair? It seems to be shorter."

Natasha didn't reply, instead shaking her head angrily. " What the hell, (Y/n). What are you doing in the U.S?"

Her harsh tone almost made you flinch. “ Here to visit my beautiful girlfriend? I've really missed you.” You tried, feeling a bead of sweat roll down your neck. Natasha may not have any powers but damn was this woman scary when she was mad. Flattery wasn't going to work on Nat though, her face stone cold as she looked down at you.

"That doesn't answer the question, milyy (darling)." She replied with a strained smile.

Tony watched the exchange with a slack jaw, eyes looking like they were going to pop out of his sockets from shock. “ I’m sorry? You know this criminal Nat?”

Your head snapped to the man, jaw clenching. “ Nat?" You sputtered at the intimate nickname. "Who gave you permission to call her Nat?” You swiveled back to look at Natasha. “What is your relationship with him?” You asked accusingly.

Natasha rolled her eyes, turning to Tony. “ Don’t call me Nat, Stark. And this idiot here is (Y/N).”

"Yeah, her [girlfriend/boyfriend] ! " You added helpfully.

The look Natasha gave you was deadly enough to silence you again. She turned her attention back to Tony, " Do you want to fill me on what's happening Stark? I return from a mission and hear from Steve that we had caught a mutant, but I wasn't even aware that we were after one." You frowned at the fact that had she referred to you as a mutant, but chose to ignore it.

Tony shrugged, acting like a bratty overgrown child," No, I don't want to." Natasha's jaw clenched and you decided to lend a helping hand.

Tendrils of black suddenly snaked around Tony, pining him hard against the wall behind him. His eyes widened, shooting to the origin of the magic, seeing you now unbounded and smiling widely at him, the handcuff hanging loosely off the table. Standing up, you rubbed at the red marks on your wrist left by the binds.

"Better answer her, Mr. Stark, I wouldn't want to get on her bad side." You threatened, eyes turning pure black for a split second.

Tony desperately looked at Natasha for help, but she stayed steadfast, unmoved and patiently waiting for him to answer. Realizing that no help was coming, he relented. "Fury got tipped off about some assassin that had been piling up bodies all across the U.S and North America. At first we dismissed them as the work of sporadic killers, not linking the deaths together until we got another tip about them being a mutant. We had Wanda examine a few of the bodies and she confirmed that magic was the cause of death. Since then, we've had our eye set on a contracted killer who went by the alias Reaper. A few weeks ago, we got a hit on their last location, and from there, we planned our trap."

Realization dawned onto you, " You put a bounty over yourself!" You exclaimed with a chuckle, thoroughly impressed by their commitment. It was a good plan, one that you hadn't even considered. Of course, if it had been any other week, the plan would've failed.

Every time you used magic, there was a backlash. The magic was deep inside you, a part of your very being, but it didn't stay that way willingly. The black flames were a dark and ancient form of magic, one that could only be wielded by a select few. Long ago, many groups had tried to master the arts, but most failed. The magic was powerful, more than anyone really knew, and only grew more so as it consumed more energy. Magicians didn't as much wield the magic, as they did subjugate it.

Candidates trained for years in preparation for the infusion, getting their body ready to handle massive amount of energy. When they were deemed ready, they would be exposed to a pure form of the magic. The flames would consume them and their screams could be heard for miles. Most people who entered the last trial end up dead, completely consumed by the magic. A few though, came out stronger. Instead of being consumed by the flames, they had somehow consumed the flames, magic now flowing through their veins.

Even then, the magic inside of wielders fought against their vessels, constantly trying to escape. The ring you wore helped you control the magic inside, absorbing some of the power and trapping the rest of the flames within you, where it couldn't escape and grow any stronger. But every time you took off the ring, you unintentionally let the magic grow, and when it finally returns back to you, the fight inside gets a little tougher.

Normally, it didn't affect you much. You had been trained since childhood to control the magic, so you could go hours with continuous magic use without any major repercussion. But the past month, you had really tested your bounds, toeing the limits of your control. This inevitably degraded your mental state, leaving your mind a little hazy. This meant you were a lot more impulsive and less observant, something that played in favor to SHIELD's trap. You knew you shouldn't have taken the hit on Tony, especially due to your exhaustion, but you had let your excitement of possibly seeing Natasha blind you. Nevertheless, the current situation didn't really worry you anyways, although you made a note to deal with a problem later.

"And why wasn't I informed of this?" Natasha pressed on.

"Don't take it personally. You're area of skills weren't required for the job, so you weren't informed. Simple as that." Tony plainly stated, clearly sensing the Russian's agitation.

You had to stifle your laughter at the irony. If Natasha had been assigned to the case earlier, you probably would've been captured much sooner.

Natasha bit the inside of her cheek, obviously deep in thought as well. " Release him, (Y/N)." She finally said and you happily obliged, but not sliding you ring back on, letting the flames surround you in a hazy aura incase you needed to react to any threats. Tony let out of breathe of relief as your magic retreated, but you could see that he was still a bit shaken up, the effects not fully wearing off.

"Hey are you alright darling?" You asked concernedly, ignoring the wobbling man when you caught Natasha looking a little pale. Walking over to where she was, you reached out a hand to lightly caress her cheek, the flames retreating as it reached her. You hesitated for a split second, unsure of how she would react, but Natasha leaned into your touch. Her eyes met yours. It was the same bright green that you dreamt about, and they looked even more dazzling up close. She smiled up at you and it was like all the years you've spent apart hadn't happened.

"Yeah, I'm fine." She whispered reassuringly and you smiled too in relief. “ What does Fury want with the (Y/N)?” She asked Tony, but her eyes didn't leave you.

“ The same thing we do to all threats. We either eliminate or imprison them .” He answered, voice indifferent.

Natasha turned to him, much to your dismay, “Why can’t we accept them into SHIELD?” she offered instead.

Tony, who had thought your weird relationship with Natasha was the strangest thing that could happen, couldn't believe what he was hearing. “You want to let an assassin into our ranks? Are you crazy?! Did you already get your hands on the vodka shelf?” He stammered.

Natasha gave him a dark look, one that sent a chill of excitement down your spine, “I was an assassin too Tony.”

Tony didn’t seem to know how to respond to that, but he didn’t need to. The door to the room swung opened again, this time a larger blonde man marching in. You recognized him from your intel: Steve Rogers-Captain America. Behind him, you saw several heavily armed agents behind him, their guns trained on you.

Natasha whipped around at the sudden intrusion, surprise flashing across her face. " Steve." She said warningly, noticing the same things you did, but Steve didn't let her finish, already throwing out his shield in attack. The metal was launched at you, cutting through the air faster than the eyes could follow.

You easily caught it, magic stopping it mid-flight.

You sighed at his pathetic attempt, " Mr. Rogers, don't you know it's rude to interrupt? You can't just come in here, guns blazing, and shield flying." You reprimanded, lazily throwing the shield back to the man. Steve tried to catch the shield, but was knocked back by the sheer force of your throw. The men immediately behind him stumbled back in shock as the 6'1 super solider crashed into them. Those who were left standing quickly recovered and upon realizing that their first line of attack had been beaten, prepared to shoot. They found themselves unable to. Fear had crept up on them during the ruckus and now they were unable to move as your magic seeped through them. With a simple wave of your hand, the black flames around you attacked and within seconds, all the agents, including Cap, dropped to the floor.

"What?" Tony gasped in horror, and for the first time, he seemed to truly understand the extent of your power.

"Relax, they're not dead. I just knocked them out for-" You pretended to check your wrist for a watch, " -a while. I don't know, I usually don't wait around for the people I knock out to wake back up."

Natasha was staring in shock at the pile of bodies by the door and you saw something indistinguishable in her eyes. A distinct chime echoed off the walls of the room, drawing your attention to your phone in the corner. You walked over to it, Tony looking like he wanted to stop you but was too terrified to. Picking it up, you read the message silently. Shouting could be heard getting louder, footsteps pounding towards you as alarms blared.

"Looks like that's my cue to leave." You announced to Natasha and Tony. " Sorry to cut our reunion short Talia."

Natasha stepped forward, blinking out of her shock. "(Y/N) wait-!" She began.

"Don't worry, I think I'll be staying a little bit longer in New York. We'll see each other soon my love." You promised, picking up one of the fallen agent's guns and shooting out the lights until you were enveloped in pitch darkness. Then, before the backup agents could arrive, you melted away into the shadows.

///

You emerged from a dark alleyway in some shifty part of the Bronx. Pulling out your phone, you replied to Matt, your associate, declining the new job he had sent over, informing him that you would be taking a vacation for a while.

Seeing Natasha had reminded you of how much you actually missed her, and you didn't want to just leave New York yet, not when you barely had the chance to catch up with your lover.

But first, you had a snitch to catch. Someone had tipped off SHIELD about you. Someone who knew you about your power at that. You couldn't let someone so dangerous live.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------Powers of Reader [Will be updated as more information is learned about Reader]

-Ability to set fear in opponents

-Ability to melt into shadows (teleportation like: goes into one shadow, pops up somewhere else)

-Magic flames that kill people(?) and knocks them out(?)

-Major simp for Natasha (special skill)

#natasha romanoff #natasha x you #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #marvel fanfic series

[boop-le-snoot]

cupid carries a gun

masterlist • taglist & faq

dark!Bruce Banner x named!Reader. Rated R.

Dr. Banner is a serial killer known as the Doctor and Bailey has his soulmark. He escapes imprisonment and meets his soulmate. ~2,2k words. Serial killer fluff??

[no y/n, no 'you', no reader description, race/age/body type neutral, only first name]

This is more of a concept I wrote in an hour than an actual fic. I think it would make a good multi-chapter, but really, my hands are full now and I just needed to get this weird dream off my chest. Yes, I had a dream he was a serial killer and I was his soulmate 💀🖐🏻 I need to ease up on true crime shows istg...

St. John's was suffering a nasty collective psychosis. That would be the only logical explanation Bailey is willing to accept for the jittery, jerky way everybody is behaving. Some of it could be attributed to the armed guards roaming the halls and scaring the patients - but in America, a gun slung over the shoulder shouldn't invoke such a reaction from people.

Only select few know what these people are there for, anyways. Most hospital population is clueless, only vaguely perceiving the sense of dread those harbouring the knowledge seem to carry around. People are easily scared - the thought doesn't leave Bailey's head her whole shift.

She, however, knows exactly what is happening. She's good at her job, brilliant even, nerves made of purest steel and bedside manner perfectly compassionate and tender. It doesn't come as a surprise that she is the one that got chosen to handle the problematic, uncooperative patients.

The bar is high, and this time - neigh impossible. A man so dangerous, so volatile, it required the sheriff to dispatch their town's squadron of special forces - not that was anything but a slight setback for the Doctor. The halls of this hospital will be forever marred with their blood, will forever be haunted by the echoes of their screams abruptly cutting off with a wet squelch.

Bailey thought she'd done her part to protect the innocents. Her colleagues, young women just like her (they're not, Bailey's mind whispers), all safely locked away in a storage closet for the cops to find. There are no windows and He won't see or hear them... If they're smart.

There he is, the man everybody is savagely afraid of. He is everything and nothing she had imagined - Doctor Bruce Banner is on the shorter side, stocky and sickly pale in his hospital issue pajamas, the bluish tint to his skin contrasted by dark crimson stains of blood on the rancid green cotton of his clothes.

The axe in his hands is held firmly but clumsily - Bailey's sure it wouldn't have been his weapon of choice should he had been given one. A choice. She swallowed the unease that spread all over her determination like mold, seeing his eyes, wild and crazy, land on the crook of her arm - where his mark laid, bright red and angry, as if it had been carved into her flesh mere days ago.

"Are you, perhaps, in need of a nurse, doctor Banner?" Bailey inquired softly, fingertips shaking, as the man crossed the space between them with short, powerful strides. The woman's stance widened, involuntary shivers running through her bones at the unexpected tenderness coming from him - Dr. Banner's palms gently wrapped around her arm, warm, chapped lips touching the angry, red soulmark near the crook of her elbow.

"It's been so long since I had a nurse," the man's mutter was barely audible. His eyes, the warmest brown she'd ever seen, met Bailey's wide, shining ones, for her to discover no trace of the madness she was told should be there. Bailey smiled.

As the hospital building grew smaller in the rear view mirror, so did Bailey's anxiety, paving way to excitement and muted curiosity. Her mother always had told that fate had a way of intervening when it was needed - and her mom had oftentimes taken up the role onto herself, moving them out of the state when Bailey's soulmark began to appear on dead people's bodies, burned or cut into skin as a signature. Bailey was not old enough to understand what it meant, back then, but she'd always been a clever girl.

With her first mobile device, she figured out why her mother strictly prohibited her from speaking about it, why her mother always kept a stash of large bandaids to cover it should Bailey be required to remove her long-sleeve shirt.

Only Bailey's physician knew. She'd expected terror, disgust - or even pity, but Dr. Strange always kept his mouth and eyes shut. As Bailey grew older, blossomed into a fine young woman, she thought she saw envy leak into his chiseled features - but Dr. Strange was as quiet and cynical as ever.

As long as nobody tried to separate them, it would be fine. A small smile stretched her plush lips, hand squeezing the one holding hers with giddiness creeping into her youthful features. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed an expression of curious tranquility on Dr. Banner's- Bruce's face as his eyes stayed firmly on the road as the radio crackled static in-between songs.

"Penny for your thoughts?" The man she'd grown to crave and fear, his salt and pepper curls bouncing with every pothole the car hit; his warm hand, larger than hers by a stretch, provided comfort she hadn't known she needed.

"Where to, doc?" The woman couldn't hold back the anticipation. She wanted to hold him, to be close - closer than her small, cramped cheap car allowed them to be.

"I have some friends waiting for me," the man announced, as if he hadn't spent the last five years in a maximum security prison. Not that it mattered to Bailey - but knowing there was no way back from this, Bruce's so-called friends became a point of doubt to the young woman. The doctor noticed it, his responding smile both dangerous and comforting, all sharp canines and moist lips. "You know them, baby. Dr. Strange is a colleague of mine and Tony Stark is a great friend."

Bailey's eyebrows rose, mild disbelief caught somewhere in her trachea as she attempted to clear her throat. Her family physician and the businessman rumoured to be the largest crime boss of their side of the pond. Suddenly, Strange's long glances and penetrating stares acquired a new meaning, a sense of indignation seeping into Bailey's newly found joy. "And he never said anything," the longing, the countless nights spent studying every publicly available material on Dr. Banner, the killer surgeon that terrorised the Tri-State area burned acrid in her chest.

"He told everything to me," Bruce's remark stung if only from the fact that he'd known about her all along. "Who, do you think, pushed for your transfer to St. John's?" Bruce's smile glinted a little wicked in the meager light of passing-by streetlights as the evening sun simmered down to a rest below the horizon. "I don't actually have cancer," the second remark was more optimistic, spoken hopefully, with another gentle squeeze to her hand.

Bailey puffed out a breath she didn't know she was holding. The puzzle pieces slowly started to arrange themselves, revealing a bigger picture than the one before. She wanted to be mad - mad at Stephen, for not saying anything; mad at Bruce, for getting himself caught years prior. And the anger at her own mother, for taking away her right to stand by her soulmate, for all the countless fights and nights spent locked up in her room.

Bailey had been treated like a monster as soon as he soulmark showed up - and after so much time spent trying to show she wasn't one, perhaps, it was time to face the truth. Perhaps, it was time to show them how much of a monster she could be, if they were so unhappy before.

Gravel flew under the wheels of Bailey's beaten up Toyota Corolla, sending little pebbles to bang noisily against the bumper and the stone flower beds surrounding the driveway to a large two-story mansion. Two cars stood in from of it with two men leaning each against their own vehicle.

The shorter figure was well-dressed, suit obviously bespoke and expensive, sunglasses reflecting the headlights of her Toyota even from a distance away. The taller figure stood out with familiarity, a lit cigarette freely dangling between the finger of his gesturing hand - Dr. Strange and his long, sculpted legs, Bailey could recognise even from a mile away.

Bruce parked, killing the engine and exiting the car with a free, lopsided grin carelessly thrown in Bailey's direction. Fumbling with the lock of her seatbelt, the woman's eyes latched onto the figure of her soulmate eagerly embracing the shorter man, their reunion evidently long-awaited and happy. Stephen's coarse laugh penetrated the interior of the car as the wacky passenger side seatbelt finally let Bailey free.

Three pairs of eyes bore into her body still wearing the scrubs from the hospital - one laughing, Strange was amused; one curious - none other than Tony Stark and his shameless smirk had made an appearance at their first getaway destination; and Bruce, looking so damn proud and lovesick. The grin tugged at Bailey's lips as the presence of the other men barely registered in her elevetaed emotional state.

"Damn, Brucie-bear, lucky you," Tony Stark wolf-whistled, clapping the doctor on the shoulder and receiving a fond eyeroll in return. Those two really were good friends. "Well, I won't hold you two back from getting to know each other better," Stark wiggled his eyebrows salaciously. "We can talk business tomorrow," with that, Stark waltzed over to Bailey, snatching the keys to her car out of her hands with a quick flick of his wrist. "Can't have a car allegedly containing a runaway prisoner on my property, now can I? Don't worry, babycakes, my people will take care of it. Bruce is family. You better treat him well, or else," the river of words flowed from Tony's mouth, causing the surprised Bailey to simply freeze in place and withstand his rambling, surrounded by the smell of whiskey and Stark's expensive cologne.

Despite his easy tone and the relaxed demeanor, Bailey knew a dangerous man when saw one. Tony Stark was not to be fucked with. "Yeah," she mumbled, scampering for the trunk to take out the duffle bag she carried around everywhere - just in case. Just in case her serial-killing, incarcerated-for-life soulmate would somehow found his way to her.

Tony looked at the spectacle with amusement. "You won't need your ID, sweetheart. All of that is going to be taken care of, don't worry your pretty little head about it."

"Duly noted," Bailey couldn't help the annoyed frown at Tony's frivolousness. Her government ID was the last thing on her mind. She wasn't stupid, she knew her mother would go to the cops as soon as she saw the news. "I have my own business to attend to. Might need a hand," the realization came with the dull thud of the trunk being slammed shut.

Tony's eyebrows rose; Bruce approached her with caution, wrapping an arm around her waist from behind. "Is it urgent?"

"Her mother knows about their connection," Strange piped up, glowing ember of the cigarette flying somewhere over the car. The sound of a lighter followed immediately, another dot of shiny red standing out in the twilight. "Don't worry, Bailey, she's detained and sedated for the time being," he offered with a crooked smirk, nearly no trace of the quiet man who bandaged her boo-boos when she was a child.

"You planned this," Bailey observed, fighting the dread crawling up her spine. The realization - she will never step back, will never be able to escape this life - set in. She was unprepared, having acted on a whim, prepared to live on the run but not within an arm's reach of her previous life yet unable to resume it.

"A long time ago," Strange nodded. "You always were a clever girl, Bailey. It is delightful to finally you where you belong," he smiled at Bruce in earnest.

Bailey wondered what else was going on in the sleepy town of hers. What kind of atrocities were committed daily under her nose, by the very people she knew and trusted. There was so much evil in this world.

But not Bruce. He could never be evil, even as he cut the hearts out of the men that had been treating those around them as objects. Bruce merely made them what they should've been; the greed, the infidelity - what use did those men have for their hearts? The Doctor was merciful and true: he never caused his patients undue pain and always, always left them in a state they were true to themselves. It wasn't his fault so many of his patients were heartless beasts for men.

Those clever hands, the same hands that brought the world at his feet, brought Bailey at his - voluntarily so. Their bodies hot, impatient for each other, with their blood singing a song of lust and longing, both of them hidden from the world by the heavy velvet curtains of Tony's estate - it was hellfire in heaven.

No amount of time too long as Bruce's teeth closed around Bailey's jugular, sinking into the flesh tenderly, all the while her nails penetrated the skin of his back; both drew blood, content to drown in it and wash their sins away with it. Heaven and Hell were merely words for the two, anyway.

Bruce Banner taglist:

@couldntbedamned @mikariell95 @letsby @sleep-i-ness @toomanyrobins @mostly-marvel-musings @persephonehemingway @schemefrenzy @lillsxd @bluecrazedandbeautiful @slothspaghettiwrites @pilloclock @sapphicnoodle69

#dark!bruce banner #bruce banner x reader #dark!bruce banner x reader #tw serial killers #what is this even asdfgk #my followers: FORGIVE ME #please #this is so undercooked 😭😭😭

[myfearless-love]

The Wildest Place You Run (5/?) - Not Far Now

I'm sorry for the delay: traveling and vacation made it impossible to post, but in turn, you'll get two chapters this week (including this). This one is a bit shorter, but you'll see why in the next chapter (spoiler alert: too many action).

As always, a huge thank you to my beta and artist @thejollyroger-writer for correcting my mistakes and making kick-ass art for chapters 5 and 6! Check it out above!

Summary:

Vampires, Werewolves, Mages, and Elves. For centuries, they kept their existence a secret, but the constant rebellions against the strict laws of the Guild had led to a terrible tragedy. In an open clash, it became apparent to humans just what kind of monsters lived among them. Emma Swan loses the love of her life in the first battle of the war. A few months later, while still trying to process what happened, a mysterious and terrifying figure worms his way into her life. But the man is hiding far more terrible secrets than he reveals to her, pulling them both into a horrible situation...

Chapter: 5/? - Not Far Now

Fandom: Once Upon a Time

Rating: M

Relationships: Killian Jones/Emma Swan

Read on: FF.net or AO3

Words: ~2k

Previous parts:

Ch 1 II Ch 2 II Ch 3 II Ch 4

.

The next morning she woke up on the couch, curled up, leaning her head on the armrest. Someone, probably August, had covered her with a blanket and left her there. She was used to it, he often disappeared without a word, and he was the only one she couldn't hold it against.

She sat up slowly, and it took her half a minute to discover she was alone.

Again.

She scrambled out from under the quilt and slipped out into the kitchen. Her neck was throbbing, she was cold, and she still felt exhausted despite the few hours of sleep she'd gotten. Her day had started out shitty.

Again.

(There were many recurring things in her life that she would've preferred to avoid.)

As she glanced at the clock to see it was ten in the morning, her eyes caught a yellow note on the fridge, adorned with David's almost illegible scrawl.

I'll be home late. Take care of yourself!

Sighing, she crumpled the paper in her palm and tossed it straight into the bin beside the kitchen counter. She opened the refrigerator and was disappointed to find it contained only a few cans of beer and a slice of moldy cheese.

Furious, she slammed the door and marched up the stairs to change and grab some money. She had to go shopping.

She was already shuddering in apprehension.

Going back outside and among strangers… Great.

She tugged on her black jeans and pulled on a thick, hooded black sweater. Before Neal, she'd never worn flashy or bright colors and after his death, she'd relegated almost all of her more colorful clothes to the back of her closet.

She didn't have much money, being unemployed at the moment. David was supporting her now, which she simply hated. She had been looking for vacancies for a long time, but with her limited experience and lack of a college degree, not to mention the impending apocalypse looming over their heads, her chances of finding something were pretty low. And David was against it anyway; she had no idea why, though, and he never told her the reason. So she had to make do with her limited savings, which was becoming increasingly annoying as David had completely forgotten about the household in the last two months.

She put a small amount of money in her back pocket and her keys in the pockets of her sweater, along with her phone. She put her hair in a ponytail, her curls bouncing with each step she took. She fixed her eyelashes with a swipe of mascara.

She tucked her gun into the waistband of her jeans; after all, one could never know what might happen. She concealed it with her sweater, making it invisible to anyone.

Fog was spreading through the gray streets, the sky covered in black clouds, an ideal time for a short walk through the city center. There were hardly any people on the streets. On weekday mornings, everyone was either at school or at work, with only a few retirees strolling the cobblestone sidewalk.

Emma stuck her hands in the front pockets of her jeans and sketched out her tasks for the day in her head, but the list was pretty short. Shopping was her only agenda today, so she began to think feverishly about what to do with the long hours ahead of her.

She arrived at the tiny little corner store without any plans. She could get everything she needed here. She hated supermarkets.

When she was done shopping, she didn't head home, but to the nearby library. Inspiration came to her somewhere between choosing which can of food to buy. She needed some good books and a quiet place among normal people. Among relatively normal people.

It wasn't five minutes before she was wandering among the bookshelves in the pleasantly heated room, browsing the selection.

No one disturbed her, and at that moment, it felt very good. She continued to hunt for books peacefully, and after a while, she returned to the cashier with a small stack. The young woman behind the counter treated her kindly like she did anyone else, and that was a really strange feeling. Strange, but heartwarming. Maybe she should go out more often and fill out some more job applications. Then she could even live a relatively normal life.

She was already halfway home when her phone started ringing. She rolled her eyes in annoyance and dropped her packed bags on one of the nearby benches. She dug out her phone and looked at the caller ID.

David.

"I'm almost home, I just went shop-"

"Where are you exactly?" he gasped into the phone.

"Near the park on the avenue. Why?" she asked suspiciously. "What is it again?"

Before answering, he repeated her location to someone, then she heard the sound of a door slamming shut. "Elves," came the curt reply. "Dark Elves."

"David, stop talking in riddles!" The icy fingers of fear zigzagged through her spine. She had already had the opportunity to meet with one Dark Elf and she had no desire to repeat the encounter.

"Over the past few months, the Vampires and Werewolves have been plotting against us. They have realized that they cannot defeat us with brute force alone. They've been lurking in the shadows for the last few months, looking for a few allies, and they've found the Dark Elves. Some are already in the city and…" he took a deep breath. "The point is, don't move from where you are now, Emma. Killian will pick you up shortly."

Before she could ask anything, David ended the call. She stared furiously at her phone for a while, then pocketed the device just as it started beeping incessantly. She groaned and fished it out of her pocket again. It seemed she would have to replace it soon, the battery was almost dead, despite it being half full mere moments ago.

But that wasn't the only problem with the device. The signal dropped dangerously, then the thing just shut off altogether. Sultry magic swept through the city. Emma looked up in confusion. Around her, several elderly people pointed to the sky and shook their heads in incomprehension.

Emma looked up as well.

There were almost entirely black clouds floating in the sky, shrouding the entire city in shadows.

So the Elves were really here.

She picked up her bags, slipped her right hand under her sweater, and reached for the handle of her gun. She wouldn't be able to do much against Elves with it, but at least it made her feel a little better. Nervously, she scanned the deserted street. She had never longed this hard for Killian's arrival. Correction, she had never longed for him, period… Until now.

When she thought about it more carefully, she'd never talked to him for more than five minutes. Truth to be told, she hadn't even had the chance. Killian just came and went. He showed up in the most unexpected places, at the most stressful times, and disappeared just as quickly.

Barely a minute later, a black Porsche Panamera stopped in front of her, leaving dark skid marks on the asphalt. She jerked back, startled, and managed to land on her ass in a not very graceful way.

The car door swung open and Killian stared at her, impatiently at first, then noticed her sprawled figure on the ground. A strange smile slid across his face, but she couldn't place why it felt so different. "It's more comfortable in here, lass," he said, patting the seat beside him.

Emma staggered to her feet with an annoyed huff. She considered staining the seat cover with her muddy jeans in retaliation, but she didn't want to be childish. She was about to dust off her clothes as best she could with a tissue when something grabbed her waist and yanked her into the car. The door slammed shut on its own, and Killian stepped on the gas.

"Was that you?" she growled when she finally managed to get herself into a more decent position. At that moment, the seatbelt flew through the air in front of her and snapped into place on the edge of her seat.

"And that too," Killian nodded grimly, focusing on the road.

"Don't you dare do that again! Or at least, warn me next time!"

She really wasn't used to someone practicing magic on her. It wasn't exactly painful or uncomfortable; in fact, the touch of Killian's magic was lukewarm and pleasantly eerie, but it still scared the shit out of her.

"Apologies…"

Finally, she raised her eyes to him, and only now realizing why his previous smile seemed so strange. His face looked completely different. There was not a drop of eyeliner on him, and his stubble was completely gone. He looked so young that way, but she had to admit, she liked his bad boy look better.

Either way, he was a pretty good-looking guy.

And she really needed to stop thinking now.

"What the hell happened?"

"To my face?" he smiled compulsively. "I had to shave because they couldn't stitch up the wound," he replied lightly, as if it was just a usual Thursday for him.

"Wound? Stitch up? But shouldn't you be supposed to heal…?"

Before she could finish her question, Killian turned his face fully toward her. There was a fresh, red scar starting at his temple and extending to the line of his lips.

"Jesus…" she gasped.

The sight of his handsome face disfigured by the scar shocked her greatly.

"Wounds inflicted by Elves don't heal on their own or fast like any other," he shrugged and looked at the road again, but she could see the bitterness in his eyes that she just couldn't place.

She sank as low as she could into the seat, peering at him timidly, then glanced out the window. The city was dark as if it was already night, and she knew for a fact that this was the work of Elves. This way, the vampires could walk around the city without fearing the sunlight.

It was comfortably warm in the car, yet she huddled as a shiver ran through her. She watched the city pass by silently and then she realized…

"Killian, we left the—" she began in alarm, but he seemed perfectly calm.

"We're not going to your house," he replied nonchalantly, not taking his eyes off the road, for which she was very grateful because they were going much faster than allowed.

"Then where?" her eyes widened in shock.

"To the Guild. It's safer there."

"And David? What about him? Where is he now?"

"Calm down, Swan, he'll be there too," he assured her, then gave her an uneasy sideways glance. "It's going to be alright."

Calm down.

It was easy to say but much harder to do. Especially for her, who could get upset over any little thing, no matter how ridiculous.

Despite the low roar of the engine, she could hear the wind outside blowing louder and louder, tearing cruelly at the scrawny branches of the weak trees on the side of the road. Lightning zigzagged through the sky, and the car shook in another gust of wind.

She shuddered in her seat and made herself as small as she could. Only now did she realize what the presence of the Elves meant, and she was scared to death, if she was honest. There had been no example of them interfering in battles on this earth for hundreds of years.

"It's not far now, love, we'll be there soon," Killian encouraged, and she looked up at him again, expressionless, feeling unspeakably miserable.

His face was practically split in two, and he was the one comforting her? She scoffed at herself.

"Okay." She couldn't say anything else, just slumped in her seat and crossed her arms in front of her chest. A shiver ran down her spine, causing goosebumps on her skin, and she felt like her head was being held in a vice. She knew what that meant. She had just enough time to cling to the edge of the seat, and the vision came unstoppable…

#cs ff #captain swan #cssns21 #cssns 2021 #cs fic #emma swan #killian jones #captain hook #ouat #once upon a time #ouat ff #killian x emma #captain swan supernatural #my fic #thejollyroger writer #TWPYR #captain swan ff #captain swan fic #cs fanfic

[latte-fairytaekwoon]

𝑀𝑦 𝐺𝑖𝑟𝑙 𝑃𝑡.3 (𝑃𝑎𝑟𝑘 𝑆𝑒𝑜𝑛𝑔ℎ𝑤𝑎)

<Part One> <Part Two><Part Four<

Pairing: Badboy! Park Seonghwa (Ateez)/ Reader (Female)

Genre: Fluff, Angst, College AU.

Summary: Spending more time with Seonghwa, Y/N gets to know more about him and realizes he's not just playing with her, he truly does like her. But the question now is how does she feel about him?

Warnings: Mentions of smoking and drinking, if you're sensitive to such topics, read at your own discretion.

•••────────•••────────•••

"You can lift up your face now doll, we're here."

Y/N slightly opened one eye, then the other. Indeed they were right in front of her apartment complex.

"I'm not dead?"

Seonghwa burst out laughing even though it was a slight jab to him.

"No. I'm not reckless so as to crash myself or this baby onto anything."

Y/N nodded and let out a silent 'Oh'. So much for trusting him though.

"So is the kitten going to finally retract her claws and release this tight grip on me, or does she want me to carry her all the way inside?" Seonghwa teased, poking one of her arms, which were currently wrapped around his waist like her life depended on it.

Well in a way one could say it did.

"Huh?" Y/N looked at her arm placement and let go. "Oh sorry!"

She got off the motorcycle and began to fumble to take the helmet off.

Seonghwa let out a tiny pfft.

"I was seriously hoping you'd choose the second option."

Y/N nearly dropped the helmet when he said that. She cleared her throat and handed it back to him.

"Anyway....thanks for the food, and your company..." She began.

"So essentially, you're thanking me for our little date?" He wiggled his eyebrows at her.

"It's not- wasn't- Oh!" She cried out and stomped her foot, turning on her heel and speed walking to her door.

"Wait! Y/N! Come back!"

Seonghwa called out to her, but she ignored him. She did not want him to see how flustered he got her to be. She was about to reach into her bag to get her keys, when it dawned on her: she left her bag in Seonghwa's motorcycle. She turned her head back to him, and of course, he was holding up her bag, with a look on his face that said 'I told you so.'

She sighed and took one step to go back, but Seonghwa signaled her not to.

"I'll bring it to you."

Seonghwa got off the motorcycle and walked up to her. He held out her bag to her, but before she could get it back, he suddenly got an idea and held it over his head.

"Hey! What was that for?" Y/N exclaimed as she jumped, trying to snatch her bag back.

"You haven't properly thanked me for taking you out on a date. Once you do, you can have this back." He smirked.

"Park Seonghwa! You're unbelievable!"

He merely shrugged at her comment.

"Your choice dollface. Either thank me and tell me you enjoyed it, or stay out here in the cold."

Y/N huffed and crossed her arms. She couldn't believe she was actually going to fall victim to his blackmail.

"Thanks for the date.....I..... actually had a nice time." She finally said, her voice barely whispering but Seonghwa was willing to take it.

He finally gave her the bag back and watched her fumble around to find her keys.

He snorted. "You girls should really have better organization in your purses."

Y/N lifted her eyes at him and glared at him, making Seonghwa step back with his arms up.

"Whoah, ok. Calm down kitten. Don't attack and get scratch marks on me...."

He paused then continued.

"Unless it's my back. Then I don't mind." He bit his bottom lip as he stared her up and down.

Y/N blushed intensely and stammered to try to tell him something, but couldn't.

"What? Kitten got caught her own tongue?" He snickered.

Y/N pouted, furrowing her eyebrows as her arms crossed in front of her chest.

"Aww come on doll. You know I'm just kidding. It's just cute to see you get all hissy or to see you get that pink tint on your cheeks."

Seonghwa's hands went to to her upper arms, his thumbs lightly rubbing her shoulders. He looked at her face for a while, just admiring the way the moon light shone on her features. Then he remembered he shouldn't keep her up so late.

"So....will I see you tomorrow?" He asked after a few minutes of silence passed.

"Huh? Oh the party...... I don't know. I'll feel out of place. I wouldn't know anyone there." She replied.

"You know me and I guess if you want to count them too, you know Wooyoung's loud ass and Yeosang's insipid ass." Seonghwa reminded her, causing her to giggle slightly.

"Seriously, smile like that more often. You look even more beautiful."

She immediately stopped giggling when he said that and was at an even greater loss for words when he leaned in and kissed her forehead.

"See you tomorrow babe. No ifs, ands or buts." He winked at her before racing back to his motorcycle.

Y/N just stood there, watching as he got back on the motorcycle, started it up and waved goodbye to her before speeding away out of sight. She stayed there for a few moments before a light breeze reminded her it was cold and unless she wanted to wake up with a stuffy nose, she'd better go inside and get some sleep if she wanted to make it to the party tomorrow.

And if she wanted to see Seonghwa again.

•••────────•••────────•••

Y/N took one last look at herself in the mirror. She didn't think she looked bad. But for some reason she wanted to look extra good. She looked at the time:

9:22 p.m

Seonghwa said he'd pick her up at 9:30, so she had no time to change into something different. Or could she?

She began looking through all the scattered articles of clothing she pulled from her closet, taking a double look at certain blouses and thinking if she should just change as fast as she possibly could.

Honk. Honk.

"Crap." She muttered as she stood up and ran to the door, nearly slipping on a pile of clothes.

Grabbing her bag and phone, she sped out her door and slammed it, making sure she locked it though. She wasn't going to risk someone breaking in.

"Hey! Y/N!"

She turned around and saw a familiar purple haired boy waving his arm at her, half his body coming out from the window of the car. She waved back awkwardly and walked slowly to the car, wondering why Seonghwa didn't tell her Wooyoung would be there.

Wooyoung got back inside the vehicle and opened the door to her.

"You're riding in the back with me. Isn't it fun!?" He exclaimed enthusiastically.

"If you want to throw him out the window, I wouldn't blame you." Yeosang's voice said from the passenger's seat.

Y/N got inside and was expecting to see Seonghwa behind the wheel, but instead she saw a red haired man she'd never seen before. He turned to her and held out his hand.

"Hi. I'm Jongho. Seonghwa couldn't come himself so he sent me and Yeosang to pick you up." He introduced himself as Y/N took his hand and shook it.

"That idiot wasn't part of the plan, but before we knew it he was already inside the car before we could run him over." Yeosang explanation, pointing to Wooyoung.

Wooyoung sat up and smacked Yeosang on the arm, causing Y/N and Jongho to laugh slightly.

"Ok seatbelts on everyone? Let's go."

Shifting into reverse, Jongho smoothly pulled out of the curbside and then drove south towards their destination. All throughout the ride, no one said a word: Y/N because she was too shy, Yeosang because he didn't talk, and Jongho because he was concentrating on the road.

Wooyoung however, was dying from how gloomy and silent they were. He opened his mouth to say something, but Yeosang beat him to it:

"If you dare ask or say anything remotely vacuous, I will make Jongho pull over and drop your ass in the nearest dumpster." He warned, causing Wooyoung to shut his mouth and pout.

"Why must you be mean to me?" Wooyoung complained.

"Relax Hyung. You know Yeosang is just playing with you." Jongho assured him.

"Wait. Hyung?" Y/N couldn't help but blurt out when he mentioned the honorific.

"Yeah. Jongho is the baby of our friend group. 00' liner." Wooyoung sat up and poked Jongho's cheek.

Jongho simply rolled his eyes, not a stranger to the older men's antics of reminding him he was younger.

"Seriously? I thought you were older!"

She didn't mean for it to come out that way, but soon Wooyoung and Yeosang were laughing.

"I get that a lot, don't worry." Jongho shrugged, not at all bothered by the fact she'd think that.

"So if you're the youngest, who's the oldest?" Y/N asked.

"It's actually none other than your boyfriend." Wooyoung responded, giving her a side glance to see her reaction.

She straightened up.

"He-he's not my boyfriend....." She corrected him.

All the boys kept quiet but a smirk was plastered on all of their faces. Jongho looked over at Yeosang and that's all it took for them to burst out laughing. Y/N just looked at them in confusion. They certainly were an odd bunch.

"Aren't you going to ask what we're laughing about?" Wooyoung asked as he leaned his face close to hers.

"I think..... I'd rather not." Y/N answered, scooching away from him.

"Good choice. And Wooyoung, I may not throw you out the window, but I was instructed to make sure you behaved so..... keep at least an arm's length away from Y/N. Or I'll tell Seonghwa." Jongho warned.

Wooyoung groaned in annoyance and scooted away while mumbling:

"I wasn't going to do anything, geez this boomer being all possessive."

Y/N heard him clearly, but she pretended not to and decided just to enjoy the ride and calm her nerves which were getting more and more out of control the closer they got to the house.

•••────────•••────────•••

Y/N looked around the place. It was already packed with people, some dancing erratically in the living room, while others were just chatting away, cups of beer in their hands. She had never been anywhere near the fraternity or sorority houses, but damn was this one huge. She was glad Wooyoung insisted on holding her hand so she wouldn't get lost.

"Hey! There's Hyung!"

Without warning, he yanked her in the direction of the kitchen, where Seonghwa was in the middle of a conversation with a slightly shorter grayish green hair man. Seonghwa immediately straightened up when he saw Y/N, completely ignoring what his friend was saying.

"Hey." He was the first to talk.

"Hi." She responded shyly.

They both stared at each other, the other two boys looking back and forth between them in confusion and annoyance. Wooyoung and the other male looked at each other and tried so hard to hold back from laughing at Seonghwa's awestruck expression.

Seonghwa looked down at the attire Y/N was wearing when his eyes caught something unpleasant: Wooyoung was still holding onto her hand. He looked back at the younger male who just raised an eyebrow at him.

Seonghwa merely pointed to their adjoined hands and ordered: "Off."

Wooyoung snorted and let go of Y/N.

"You're right Wooyoung. He's got it bad." The other male snickered before nodding in Y/N's direction.

"Choi San. Pleasure to finally meet the girl that makes this old man loose brain cells." He teased Seonghwa, who merely stared at him with a warning look.

"Hi." She returned the greeting.

"Ok enough chit chat. I came here to get wasted and make out with my one of my boy toys. So if you excuse me."Wooyoung took a hold of San's wrist and pulled him out to the crowd gathered at the drink station.

Seonghwa shook his head and sighed. "And then they'll be complaining in the morning and I'll be the one taking care of them."

"So are Wooyoung and San..." Y/N gestured with her hands.

"Hmm? Oh! Honestly...... I don't know. Between San and Yeosang, no one really knows who's the official item of Wooyoung's affection." He answered.

If Y/N had been drinking something, she would have seriously choked on it.

"Yeosang?" She asked incredulous.

"Yeah. It's complicated." Seonghwa rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.

Y/N giggled. "But if you think about it, it's a cute match."

Seonghwa whipped his head to look at her.

"Seriously?"

Y/N nodded.

"You know what they say, opposites attract. Maybe someone as loud and eccentric as Wooyoung needs someone more quiet and level headed like Yeosang."

"Ok but, don't let San hear you say that. He might just cry." Seonghwa said.

Another awkward moment of silence fell over them. It seemed to happen quiet often. Seonghwa stepped over to the door beside the kitchen and opened it.

"I'm going out for a smoke." He simply told her.

Y/N debated whether or not to join him outside. Sure she didn't smoke but she'd rather not be standing alone like a total idiot. Then a voice popped up behind her.

"Go after him."

She jumped up and turned around to see Yeosang standing there with a cup in his hand.

"Jesus Yeosang, don't creep up on people like that." She clutched her chest, trying to calm down from the fright he just gave her.

"Sorry. Force of habit. But seriously, go keep him company."

Yeosang looked towards the crowd and squinted his eyes when he caught sight of San getting too close to Wooyoung for his liking.

"Meanwhile, I have to go make sure some idiot doesn't break something." He lied.

Y/N watched him walk over to where Wooyoung and San were dancing. She chuckled as she watched Yeosang pull Wooyoung onto him, wanting his attention, a clear pout on his lips. Then San tried to squeeze himself in between, almost shoving Yeosang away, while Wooyoung tried to calm them down.

"All is fair in love and war." She quoted before going outside to search for Seonghwa.

She looked around before a strong scent filled her nostrils. Finally spotting him, she quietly walked over to him, propping and sitting herself up on the railing he was leaning against.

"I thought you'd rather stay inside." He said as he blew out a smoke from his mouth.

She shrugged. "Wild parties and alcohol have never really been my thing."

Seonghwa hummed and held out his nicotine stick out to her, which she promptly refused. She was not planning on contracting cancer anytime soon.

Seonghwa chuckled.

"You're right. Maybe opposites do attract."

"What do you mean?" She tilted her head to him.

Seonghwa took a final puff of his cigarette before throwing it on the floor and stepping on it.

"I mean here I am, the famous bad boy of the school, trying to court the perfect goody two shoes student." He explained.

Hey!" Y/N shoved his arm lightly. "I'm not a goody two shoes!"

"Oh? Then what are you exactly Y/N? Who are you?" He mused more to himself than actually asking her a question.

She opened her mouth but then shut it back up when she didn't know how to respond. It was a question she had the answer to but no one had ever asked her before and now she didn't know how to explain. If she even wanted to explain.

She began swinging her legs in the air as she pondered over what to say.

"I guess..... I'm just....normal?"

Seonghwa snorted.

"Y/N trust me. You're not normal. A normal college student would either be getting their face shit wasted at a party like this, hook up with their classmates or teachers, and overall make stupid decisions they'll regret when they're older, but right now they don't give a damn cause they're young and feel invincible."

Y/N looked over at him.

"Is that how you feel?" She teased.

"We're talking about you, not me. You already know me. But what about you? What's so special about you?" He continued to pry.

"No- nothing. Absolutely nothing." She replied.

"Really? Nothing?" He scooted closer to her, trying to read her facial expressions.

"I guess I'm just a boring college student. Only trying to get through school and finish with as high grades as she can so she can land a decent job and live a normal life with 50 plus cats in the future." She let out a chortle at the last part.

"Cats are cute. But is that what you actually want?"

Y/N's smile gave her away immediately.

"No. I actually want..."

She stopped herself before she said too much. She was embarrased to say this to anyone, let alone Seonghwa.

"You can trust me. I won't judge you." He encouraged her.

Taking a deep breath she confessed:

"I actually want to be an editor......"

She looked up at him to see his expression.

"An editor?" He was genuinely interested in why she was passionate about it.

"Yeah. I major in English and world literature. I mean, I do now after I switched from finance." She explained.

"Not very good without a calculator?" He jokingly said.

"I thought you said you wouldn't judge." She reminded him.

"Sorry sorry. It just comes naturally." He apologized.

She continued.

"I mostly took it cause my parents wanted me to land a job in some bank or something. But I don't want that. My plan is to graduate with a bachelor's degree and start a job at as an intern at a book publishing company, and eventually work my way up. Simple as that."

Seonghwa blinked at her explanation, making her think she did sound boring.

"Are you judging me now?" She questioned him.

"No, on the contrary, I'm proud of you, really. You got your goals set and it's obvious you're working hard to achieve them. How many of those people in there know what they're going to do after college?"

He looked up at the sky and sighed blissfully.

"And you say you're just ordinary yet here you are being the most extraordinary person I've met."

Y/N looked down at the ground and smiled brightly to herself. It felt good to hear Seonghwa say he was proud of her. That's all she ever wanted to hear, but hearing it from someone like him, so sincere and honest, made it ten times better.

"So in theory, you want to be an Anastasia Steele?" He joked with her.

Feeling a little bold, she winked at him and answered:

"Only if you'll be my Christian Grey."

Seonghwa's eyes went huge as he snapped his head to look at her, trying to process what she said and if she really did say it. She swore she also saw a light hint of a blush on his cheeks and that made her burst out giggling.

"What? I can flirt a little too you know."

Turning his body, Seonghwa stood in front of her, both hands grabbing the railing on opposite sides of her body and therefore trapping her.

"Don't test me kitten because I won't hesitate to bend you over my lap and spank you." He warned.

Seonghwa smirked when he noticed her swallow harshly. His eyes scanned her every feature: eyes, nose, and then her lips. They looked so plump and soft and he just really wanted to feel them. He bit down on his lip as his thumb grazed over her bottom lip. Y/N held her breath when she noticed him leaning in closer. She closed her eyes and waited to see what happened.....

•••────────•••────────•••

#ateez #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez school au #ateez fanfiction #ateez fanfic #ateez seonghwa #park seonghwa #park seonghwa scenarios #park seonghwa angst #park seonghwa fluff #park seonghwa fanfic #ateez fluff #ateez angst #ateez seonghwa scenarios #ateez seonghwa fluff #ateez seonghwa fanfic #badboy!seonghwa #ateez seonghwa angst #ateez seonghwa au

[caranfindel]

Fic: You don’t know how it feels (to be me)

gen, s6 | about 3600 words | pg for language | characters: soulless sam winchester, dean winchester

synopsis: Soulless Sam tries to deal with his brother's feelings about, well, everything. Including his hair. Set in season 6, before "You Can't Handle the Truth."

An idea I had a long time ago, resuscitated by Jared's Walker haircut. The title is from "You Don't Know How It Feels" by Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers.

. . . . . .

It's a stupid case.

The manager of the county fairgrounds is a stooped, gnarled old man wearing one of those ball caps veterans wear sometimes. Gold embroidery on the dark blue hat proudly displays the name of his ship or submarine or whatever. Sam doesn't care about his ship or submarine or whatever. He doesn't care about this guy's service at all. Most days, old Blue Hat here got three meals a day and a warm, dry place to sleep in exchange for whatever he gave up. He got a pension when he was done fighting. Sam gets to scrounge for cheap food and sleep in crappy hotels when he's lucky enough to actually land someplace other than the back seat of the Impala. Sam's service to his country earned him a trip to Hell. Sam will get to stop fighting when he's dead. His only pension will be a pyre.

Sam doesn't even get to sleep any more.

(This should bother him. But the truth is, it doesn't.)

Blue Hat frowns at Sam's ID and snorts derisively. "You don't look like a Fed. You look like a goddamn hippie."

He rolls his eyes at the old man, even though he knows Dean hates it when he does that. It's something he didn't do Before, no matter how annoying or insipid the witness. Sam doesn't give a good goddamn what this guy thinks about his hair, but apparently his brother does. "He's been doing some undercover work," Dean says. "Sometimes you've got to look like a goddamn hippie to blend in."

Blue Hat sniffs his disapproval and ignores Sam for the rest of the interview, directing all of his answers to Dean. Which is fine. The old guy doesn't seem to have anything useful to add anyway. Sam leaves his brother to the pointless interview about the stupid case and wanders around the building, taking pictures of the unexplained runes that brought them here. He's bored. The sudden appearance of mysterious runes on the bland metal exterior of a county fairgrounds building feels witchy, and Sam really doesn't care about witches. Two measly deaths, quite possibly from natural causes, and now he's out here standing in cow shit. Or goat shit or pig shit. This entire day has been shit, literally and figuratively.

Dean joins him after a couple of minutes, apparently done with Blue Hat. "What do you think?" he asks.

Sam shrugs. "Too early to tell. If these runes are what Bobby thinks they are, they'll change under moonlight, but moonrise isn't until 9:05 pm."

“Jesus," Dean moans. "I can't stay awake that long. I've already gone almost two days. Let's go back to the motel and crash, and we'll hit this place again tonight."

Or not, Sam wants to say. I think you jumped on this paper-thin excuse for a job just because the alternative was sitting in a motel room with me waiting for an actual case to come up, Sam wants to say. But neither of these are things he would have said Before, and Dean is so goddamn twitchy about Sam being different than Before.

As they turn back to the Impala, Dean glances at Sam with a slight smile. "Dude's not wrong, you know."

“What?"

“You do look like a goddamn hippie." Dean's hand twitches toward Sam, like he's going to smack him on the back of the head or ruffle his hair, but he pulls back without touching him. Because they don't do that now. Casual, good-natured, brotherly contact isn't a thing now. Dean doesn't touch him unless there are injuries involved.

(This is another thing that should bother Sam. It would have, Before.)

. . .

Dean hangs his suit in the closet, sets an alarm, and collapses on top of the covers. Sam stares at his own bed. The threat of spending hours pretending to be asleep makes his skin crawl. If Dean falls asleep quickly enough, he can skip the whole charade.

“Hey, I think I'm gonna shower first," he says.

Dean doesn't open his eyes. "Just don't wake me up when you get out."

In the bathroom, Sam turns on the water but doesn't get undressed. He stands at the mirror, staring at his too-long hair. Why has he bothered to hold onto it? He remembers caring about his hair. He remembers it being a small fuck you to John, the one area in his life where he was able to cling to some autonomy. It's not that he's forgotten about that; he just doesn't give a shit any more.

And like Dean said, Blue Hat wasn't wrong. He does look like a hippie. The hair is a hazard, and it does clash with any kind of law enforcement disguise. Maybe it's time to do something about it. He has time to kill anyway, while Dean sleeps.

(Sam should care that he doesn't need to sleep any more. Dean would definitely care, if he found out. Dean cares so much about any aspect of Sam that is less normal than he thinks it ought to be. Even if it's something that makes him a better hunter. Dean didn't appreciate it when Sam could exorcise demons without killing the host, and Dean wouldn't appreciate that Sam can get so much done when he's not sleeping. He could never understand why this version of Sam is so much better than the way he was Before. It's a shame Dean hasn't discovered the option of Not Caring.)

(Sometimes Sam wonders if getting back with Dean is worth the trouble.)

(And that should bother him too.)

Sam shuts off the shower and pulls out his phone. He needs to find a barber shop in walking distance. Dean will get all pissy if he wakes up and the car is gone; less so if only Sam is missing. Luckily, there's a shop that might still be open. It's one of those ridiculous sports-themed places that presumes men are fussy toddlers who need to be distracted from the ignominy of a hair cut. At least they tend to be staffed by women, and those women tend to be prettier than average. With any luck, he can kill two birds with one stone.

When he opens the bathroom door, Dean is either asleep, or pretending to be. Sam scrawls couldn't sleep, back soon on the motel notepad and closes the door behind him as silently as possible.

(He misses his car. He didn't have an emotional attachment to it, like Dean and the Impala, but it was convenient and it suited him.)

(He doesn't actually have an emotional attachment to anything. That should bother him.)

. . .

Two stylists, both predictably prettier than average, look up when he walks in. The redhead says "sorry, sir, we're just about to close up," and continues sweeping up hair trimmings. But the brunette looks him up and down and smiles. And Sam's partial to brunettes anyway.

He gives her a once-over in return and smiles back. "Do you have time for just a quick cut? I'd be eternally grateful."

She stares at him for a minute, appraising. "Well, how could I turn down an offer of eternal gratefulness?" she says with a wink. She turns to the redhead. "Why don't you go on home. I've got this."

The redhead dumps her clippings into a trash can. "You sure?"

"I'm sure. You mind locking the door behind you? I don't want any more last-minute customers walking in."

The redhead raises her eyebrows, but gathers her purse and jacket and makes her escape as Sam settles into the brunette's chair.

“I'm Marianne," she says, as she starts to drape a cape over his shoulders.

“I'm Sam. But listen. I get too hot under those capes. Would it be okay if we skip it? And I just take my shirt off so I don't get hair all over it?"

Marianne smiles like the cat who caught the canary. "Not a problem, sweetheart."

Sam slips out of his dress shirt and drapes it over the empty chair next to him. Marianne watches him the whole time, eyes roving over the muscles exposed by his snug white undershirt. It's like shooting fish in a barrel.

He sits back in the chair and Marianne stands behind him. Her chest brushes against his shoulders. "So," she asks, "what are we doing today?"

“Shorter. Off my collar, above my ears."

She slips her fingers through his hair, measuring its length. "You sure? This length looks pretty good on you. Just needs to be cleaned up a bit."

“It's for a job. The long hair doesn't fly any more."

“Aw, that's a shame." Marianne's still running her fingers through his hair. "If you've got a lady in your life, I bet she'll miss it. A girl likes something to hold onto."

Well. The best lies are based on a kernel of truth. Sam looks into his lap and lets his smile go sad and soft. "That's kind of why I'm here. My girlfriend died and I thought I'd try to start over. New place, new job, new life. But yeah, that's always been one of my favorite things. A girl grabbing my hair in the heat of the moment. I should have tried to find someone to do that one more time before I had to cut it off."

Marianne leans forward, pressing her breasts harder against him. When he looks up, she meets his eyes in the mirror, then flicks a glance toward a door marked Employees Only. “You know," she says, "that could probably be arranged."

Seriously. Fish in a goddamn barrel.

. . .

Dean's awake when Sam gets back to the motel room, but he doesn't look up from the laptop. "Couldn't sleep?"

“I guess I napped a little in the car on the way down here," Sam lies. "And then, you know, a lot of caffeine this morning."

“Whatever. I'm not the sleep police. I hope you brought food, cause I could —" Dean looks at Sam and stops mid-sentence, mouth still open. "You cut your hair?"

“Yeah."

“Why?"

“What do you mean, why? Like old what's-his-face said, I looked like a hippie, not an FBI agent. And you've been telling me to cut it for years."

“Yeah, I have. I've been saying that for years and you've been ignoring me for years. Now some random witness calls you a hippie and you go running to Supercuts?"

Sam sighs. Dean may not be the sleep police, but he's awfully eager to step in as the hair police, enforcing his own set of laws about Sam's hair. "Why does it matter? You wanted me to cut it. Everyone wanted me to cut it. And I cut it. Can we move on now?"

It's a statement almost guaranteed to make Dean bow up in anger, but instead, he deflates. "It's just… nothing. Fine. Moving on." He closes the laptop and pulls his keys out of his coat pocket. "We've still got an hour or so before moonrise. I'm gonna go run through McDonald's. You want a chicken sandwich, or is that something else you're not interested in any more?"

Jesus Christ. This is what passes for moving on. But Sam needs that shower now, and none of this is worth arguing about.

(Few things are any more. That seems like it should matter.)

“Yeah, that sounds great, thanks."

By the time Dean gets back, the sandwich is cold and the ice in Sam's drink is mostly melted. He pretends to enjoy it anyway.

. . .

Their drive back to the fairgrounds is quiet. Dean occasionally steals an unhappy glance at Sam's hair, but doesn't say anything. Sam ignores it.

They pull into the parking lot in front of the marked building. Without even getting out of the car, they can see that the runes have changed. The broad strokes are softly luminescent, glowing a pale blue in the moonlight.

“Okay, so that answers that question," Sam says. Thank God. Now they can leave without wandering around the grounds, soaking up the barnyard smell again. Wrap this up and start working on something more important. But Dean gets out of the car and looks at Sam expectantly. Well, crap. Sam dutifully follows him closer to the building and tries to think of how he would have felt about this development Before.

“Cool," he says. Dean narrows his eyes at him. "I mean, cool that our theory was right. Not, you know, cool that someone is using this kind of spellwork to make sure their pig wins a blue ribbon at the fair. That part's… pretty awful." But Dean's still looking at him funny, so he probably overcorrected on that one. It's just hard, any more.

Dean rubs the back of his neck as he examines the glowing runes. "If that's all they're doing, more power to them. I couldn't care less. But we need to make sure that's all they're doing. I mean, people died, Sam. We need to figure out if this is why." He pulls out his phone. "Gonna take some pictures to send Bobby." There's no reason to remind him they already have pictures. If Dean thinks additional pictures are more effective and efficient than "just like this, but glowing blue," that's up to him. Sam will most likely solve the damn case later tonight anyway, while Dean sleeps.

And he almost does. Dean knocks back a couple of glasses of whiskey when they get back to the motel, and falls asleep pretty soon after that. Sam doesn't bother to feign sleep — Dean doesn't seem to care, right now, whether his brother gets any sleep or not. But when Sam realizes his own photos missed a crucial corner of the building, he opens his brother's phone and finds his last text to Bobby. There's only one picture, and it's not glowing runes. It's him. Just a dark, slightly blurry picture of Sam, obviously taken earlier that night at the fairgrounds. And a text conversation.

See, I told you, it's short. I don't know what's going on. I swear he's just different.

Yeah, I get it. It's different. He's different. But what'd you expect? Of course he's not the same as he was. Hell changed him.

It didn't change me this much.

His Hell wasn't the same as yours. I know it didn't last very long, but remember, he was in the cage with the devil. We don't know what happened to him in there. Give him some time.

Well. Fuck. Dean's talking about him behind his back. Dean doesn't trust him. Dean thinks, once again, that something is wrong with him.

(That would have hurt, Before. Now it's just an annoyance. A distraction. Something to be dealt with.)

Yes, Hell changed him. Hell burned away all the crap, all the useless feelings, the guilt and shame and fear of failure. Hell purified him. Hell carved out the weakness and left nothing but pure, strong hunter. Dean, of all people, should appreciate the result. But Dean does not, and now Sam has to cater to his tiresome attachment to everything Sam was Before.

Fine. He can make that work.

Sam quietly puts Dean's phone back on the nightstand. He strips down to boxers and his t-shirt, sets an alarm, and crawls into bed. Pretending to sleep is tedious, but a couple of hours of boredom right now might spare him weeks of Dean's moodiness about him being different.

(As if Hell could leave you untouched. As if anyone in their right mind would expect that. As if Dean himself didn't know this first hand, for fuck's sake.)

. . .

Sam spends the next day focusing on acting the way he did Before. When his alarm goes off he stretches, yawns, and pretends he had a good night's sleep. He goes for a run, brings back coffee, showers quickly, and rolls his eyes when Dean makes a crack about him being able to spend less time in the shower now. At breakfast, he smiles at the (cute, definitely worth a bang) waitress, but doesn't flirt or even check her out as she walks away. He's figured out that Dean wants Sam to want to get laid (but not too much; he's definitely not supposed to want it as much as Dean wants it) but for some reason doesn't want him to actually get lucky. And he definitely would have gotten lucky. He spends the day looking empathetic, acting like this whole thing hasn't been a colossal waste of time. Like he cares about everything. About anything.

(God, it's exhausting.)

It turns out the deaths probably don't have anything to do with the witch at all. They return to the fairgrounds one last time, where Sam plants hex bags and paints runes on the corners of the building that will block the witch's simple spells - not that he cares whether the witch achieves anything or not, just on principle. His own runes are small and subtle enough that this novice witch (they must be a novice; no one with any experience would be naive enough to make their work so noticeable) won't even know they're in place. And if the witch escalates, well, that's not exactly Sam's problem.

When he's finished, he wipes his hands on his jeans and says "We should get Chinese for dinner. When's the last time you ate a vegetable?" Because monitoring everyone's vegetable intake is something he did Before.

They're finishing Chinese takeout in their motel room (beef with broccoli for Dean, eggplant in garlic sauce for Sam, because occasional bouts of vegetarianism were also a thing he did Before) when he catches Dean looking at his hair, very clearly wanting to say something.

So. It's go time.

Sam tries to make his eyes big and sad. The puppy dog look, Dean always called it. It was never intentional Before, but now he has to work at it. "Listen," he says. "I owe you an apology. I haven't been telling you the whole truth."

“No shit," Dean says. He's trying to sound nonchalant, but his body language screams that he's bracing for something. "So, spill it. What's your big confession?"

(That I don't care about any of this. This piddly little case. My hair. You. Nothing. And you can't imagine, Dean, you cannot even begin to imagine the incredible freedom of not caring. I wish you could, but you just can't.)

No, he can't say any of that. But the best lies are built on a kernel of truth.

Sam takes a deep, anxious breath and looks at Dean. No, wait. Look away. "You know, I told you I don't remember Hell. And I really don't. Not consciously, anyway. But when we were fighting those demons a couple of weeks ago, one of them grabbed me by the hair, and I felt something… it was a sense memory, I guess. It felt like Hell, for some reason. Like it was something that happened to me in Hell, someone grabbing my hair and pulling my head back and getting ready to cut my throat or… whatever."

He doesn't have to elaborate on whatever. Dean knows the whatevers of Hell better than anyone. He's probably dealing with a little sense memory of his own right now, of clutching someone's hair and pulling their head back in preparation for whatever. And now Sam does look at his brother, who is staring at him with wide, horrified eyes.

“Ever since then," Sam continues, "I just feel like I've been on the verge of remembering something. Something I don't want to remember. And I'm tired of worrying that I'm gonna have a Hell flashback every time I wash my hair."

Dean looks like he's going to vomit. Perfect.

“I'm sorry," Sam says. "It threw me, and I just didn't want to talk about it. But I shouldn't have kept it from you."

For a second, he's sure he has gone too far. Dean is going to say what's this bullshit, Sam, you would never apologize for something like that, so tell me what's really going on. But he doesn't. He stares at Sam for a minute, then looks away and wipes a hand down his face.

“Yeah, okay. Okay. You, ah. You good now? Is it working?"

Sam shrugs. "Hard to say. It hasn't been very long. But yeah, I feel a little more… stable, I guess."

And then it’s time to go for the kill.

Sam gives him the sad smile. (He never used to think of it as a sad smile; never used to think of it as anything at all. It was just what his face did. Every expression requires so much thought now.) "Listen. I know things are weird. I know I'm weird. Different. I know it's hard for you. If this is all more than you want to deal with right now, I understand."

Dean frowns. "What are you saying?"

“Just, I can go back with Samuel and his crew if you don't want to do this any more. You and me, I mean. No hard feelings, I promise."

Dean's face crumples. "What? No, fuck, no, Sam. I don't. You and me, we're good. I'm just getting used to things. That's all."

“Okay." Sam gives his best approximation of a grateful smile.

“So. Uh." Dean looks around the room nervously, like he's waiting for the other shoe to fall, then stands. "I think I'm gonna go get a drink. You wanna come with, or…"

Even if Sam believed Dean really wanted him to come along — and he doesn't; this is obviously Dean's way of retreating from a situation he doesn't want to think about — pretending to sleep when Dean's gone is one of the easier ways of making it look like he actually does sleep sometimes. "No. I'm beat," he says. "I think I'll just go to bed."

“Okay. Yeah. That sounds like a good idea." Dean takes his keys out of his pocket and anxiously tosses them in his hand. When he finally does turn to Sam, he looks at his hair, not his eyes. "Hey, you know, it does. It does look good on you."

Sam ducks his head shyly, like someone who's not used to praise. Who doesn't think he deserves it. "Thanks." When he looks up, Dean is already halfway out the door, putting as much space between himself and his little brother's hellscape as possible.

(Seriously. Fish in a fucking barrel.)

#my fic #sam winchester #dean winchester #soulless sam is my spirit animal #spn #season 6

[backburnerdio]

Fictober – Day 20

Original Fiction: Time Borrowed Prompt #13: The Things You Make Me Do Word Count: 1464 Words Warnings: Language, Violence, Implied Abuse

Beau wrapped his arms around himself, pulling his sleeves down trying to retain some heat. Even in the dead of summer, the cell was oddly chilly making him feel slow and drained. Every signal and connection between him and the outside world was jammed, leaving him with only the clock he’d started since being brought into the downtown precinct.

05:46:27

He stared down at some sort of splatter on the cement beneath his feet. Black and faded making him wonder if it had come from an AI. Perhaps that’s where the questioning would take him. To Human violence. They kept asking about the Virus, about Godhead, about something called the AstroCoral. Beau had never heard of the term before, and now that he wasn't connected to a network to search its meaning, the word continued to scrabble around at the inside of his processor.

AstroCoral.

A buzzer jolted him, piercing in the cell as it clattered between the walls. Beau looked to the door, sitting up and turning to see out of his undamaged eye. Garnet stepped inside, barred door closing behind him as he crossed his arms in a show of superiority. Of anyone, Garnet probably believed Beau had something to do with this AstroCoral.

Beau turned his face away, looking back at the floor, hoping as much as he could that Garnet wasn't here to question him. Of anyone he has no limit to what he would do, wouldn't care to see Beau gone. Perhaps that was the goal.

Beau kept still as Garnet approached, slow and gloating, more than likely enjoying the image of Beau being held in a cell like a criminal. His boots shrieked against the floor as he finally came to a stop. He was close enough now Beau could see his reflection in the toe of his boots. A looming shadow, waiting for even a twitch of movement.

“Look here,” Garnet growled, but Beau only ducked his head lower. The way Garnet was built, Beau knew from simple calculations he could throw a punch with a solid 750 pounds of force. Enough to detach Beau’s jaw, vocals, or finish off his visuals.

He stared at the black stain on the floor.

“I said look at me, Roomba.” After a moment of fear swallowing hesitation, Beau turned his face up, refusing to look him in the eye, settling on the chest of his leather jacket. Even worse, Garnet wasn’t in uniform, wasn’t on the clock. Garnet didn’t draw back, didn’t speak, merely staring. And then, “Which one of you brought him in?” he shouted at no one in particular.

“Bryant, I think it was.” Someone from the hall answered.

“Lemme speak to him.” Garnet stepped back for the door, Beau lowering his face again. This was a feeling Beau had experienced before, the day after Ives got sick and Garnet met him at the station entrance, cussing him every way imaginable and refusing to let him come back. When he knew everyone there was afraid of him, that they no longer liked him, and he sat in Ryker’s dark apartment as the sharp emotion clawed at his throat. Except this was worse.

Moisture rushed to his eyes, the feeling threatening to set fire to his systems as if he were involuntarily trying to self-destruct. Beau had done something so absolutely terrible everyone had turned on him, even Ryker, and the worst part was he didn’t know what it was. Had he been corrupted? Caught the BIOS-erker virus without even knowing it, or remembering it? Did he hurt someone?

Weight slammed into the door, shuffling as two people wrestled. Beau sat up, frightened, bad eye going in and out making it difficult to differentiate what was going on. He slid down the length of the bench, away from them as they banged and flailed against the wall. It was Garnet, all snarled teeth and bad attitude, dragging a shorter officer into the cell. He practically slung him to the floor at Beau’s feet, seizing the man’s jaw to force him to look up at Beau.

“Look at him,” Garnet barked, “Look! What doesn’t seem right, Bryant?”

“Garnet, what the fuck?” Someone called from the door, but didn't dare approach.

“Shut up, we’re having a conversation,” Garnet ignored them, leaning down as he squeezed the man’s jaw. “Tell me what doesn’t seem right?”

“I-I don’t know,” the man choked out. “He’s an AI?”

“Don’t act fucking stupid, Bryant!” he yelled with every ounce of sarcasm he was made of. “Look at his face! You’ve hit him so hard, you’ve fucked up the substrate of his eye! The whites are gone, Bryant! He’s fucking bleeding, Bryant!” Garnet’s face wrinkled with rage, brows bent into a sharp V, flashing his teeth with every word. “Are you a violent man, Bryant? Answer me!”

“N-no sir.”

“Why is our friend injured?!”

“He was trying to resist!”

“Why were you arresting him in the first place? Did he commit a crime? Do you have evidence he’s done something wrong? Or was it because you’ve made a mistake?? You’ve hurt him and it’s made me fucking angry!”

“Captain Burnett wanted every AI we crossed brought in for questioning.”

“So you’re profiling?!?” Garnet shoved the man to the ground. “Get the fuck out of my sight, jagoff! Get down to the claim and get everything Beau had on him. I want a report written up and turned into me before morning shift. And then, tomorrow, you’ll have Ryker to deal with. Got it?” He screamed at the man who scrambled to get off his knees, slipping to the door.

“Garnet, we didn’t know—”

“OH SHUT THE FUCK UP! You did! He’s wearing his goddamn uniform!!” Garnet swung at the air for good measure. “Get his shit, now!” Captain Burnett disappeared around the corner, Garnet cursing as he wiped at his mouth. After a number of deep breaths he glanced over his shoulder, “Come on,” it was a whisper.

Beau winced to his feet, legs aching from being seated so long. He managed a few steps before his right knee gave on him.

“Whoa, easy,” Garnet caught him, bracing his arm. “Christ, it’s freezing in here. Come on,” he strung Beau’s arm across his shoulders, helping him out into the hall. Bryant returned with the small plastic bag containing Beau’s few things. His keys, wallet, hat and jacket. “Don’t let me ever catch yinz even near him. Understand?”

“Garnet, let’s go,” Beau whispered.

“I'll have the Chief down here and he’s going to turn you all fucking inside out!” Garnet nearly tripped in his attempt to continue facing them. Eventually, he gave up, leading Beau on until they were through the station and out on the sidewalk.

Message after message came through as his link connected back to the network. Everyone had been trying to reach him, calls, p2p’s, texts, emails, pings. Well over the two hundred mark. They hadn’t been angry. They were worried. They couldn’t find him.

|Beau!| Ives connected first |Where are you?! Are you alright?!|

|Garnet has me. I’m okay.|

|I’ll tell Ryker.|

It wasn’t long before Garnet’s phone rang, cursing as he struggled to reach for it. “Yeah what?” he finally answered. “You won’t fucking believe it. Bryant took him in. N'at Burnett knew about it the whole time… No, I don’t know –how long were you in there Beau?”

“Six hours and four minutes.”

“Over six fucking hours... Yeah, I know. You should see him. They roughed him up. No! It wasn't me! Thank you very much."

"It wasn't him." Beau vouched.

"Yeah, he's right here." Garnet paused, glancing to Beau with an unspoken clue that Ryker wanted to talk to him. By some miracle, he understood Beau wasn’t up for it. "Look, my hands are full. Okay? We'll call you when we get somewhere. He's not gonna keel over before then. Yeah. Alright. Bye." Garnet hung up. "Call your dad when we get back, alright?"

"How did you know where to find me?" Beau asked, letting Garnet take him back across the shoulders.

"Is that a serious question? Because I'm a Mediator. I've done this all my life. Don't be stupid." There were no edges to his scoff, leading him over to the motorcycle parked on the sidewalk. "The things you make me do. Christ!" He grumbled, steadying Beau on his feet before getting on the bike, heeling it off its stand before nodding him on. "Get on. I can take you to a SoulMedic or back to my place. Where you wanna go?"

"I… I think I just want to go somewhere safe for now. So, to your place, if you don't mind."

"Nah. We can catch some terrible fucking infomercials before the B-rated shopping network comes on if we hurry."

#amwriting #my writing #writeblr #fictober21 #science fiction #original fiction #wip: tb

[maysbanks]

she moves in her own way. (jj maybank)

due to the ASTOUNDING response to my first jj fic which i have to say a huuuge thank you to everyone that liked, commented & reblogged, it honestly means the absolute world !! i couldn't wait much longer to start writing for my boy again, i have so many fic ideas and cannot wait to get them out to y'all. this one is shorter than the last, & the title is inspired from the song 'she moves in her own way' by the kooks (lol) but isn't necessarily based off of it, it's just something that i wrote up quickly bc i was in my feels™️ . also i feel very unoriginal with the whole plot and aspect of this but im gonna post it anyway bc i love jj lmao. anyway hope u enjoy !

warnings: swearing, underage drinking, drug use, violence, jj with a gun™️

summary: reader walks the fine line between either pogue or kook, though technically a kook, she ignores all social standings of the obx and jj maybank cannot stop himself from getting caught up in her whirlwind.

( gif isn’t mine! please let me know if it’s yours so i can credit you. )

Everyone seemed to have a different perspective of you, unsurprisingly. You weren't really much of a social butterfly, you kept yourself to yourself, really. Nobody in the Outer Banks knew much about you at all, other than what they had come up with in their heads. And while you tried your best to stay in the shadows, that only seemed to make you stand out more.

You were known for being the best of both worlds - not really a Pogue, but not really a Kook either. While your social status and family wealth suggested you to be a Kook, your free spirit and reckless behaviour fitted you better towards the Pogue style. If anyone were to ask you, you told them you were neither.

Why should a name define you anyway? You thought it was all bullshit, the stupid territorial arguments and the snide comments from both sides. You thought it was ridiculous, you weren't living in The Outsiders, for fuck sake.

You moved in your own way, simple as that. You wouldn't let anyone tell you what to do, where you can't or shouldn't be, it was a free country you'd say, middle finger salute ready to aim towards anyone who dared cross you. You were an enigma, wild and careless, unforgiving and unforgettable. You didn't necessarily like the attention, but you got it. And you knew it, and you played on it, too.

You had used your irresistible charm more than enough times to bail JJ Maybank out of trouble, despite your parents' protest. They didn't have a problem with the Pogues, persay, how could they when your dad been one half of his life before meeting your mom and marrying into the rich lifestyle; they just had a problem with JJ, as many of the parents on the island did. He was an unstoppable force to be reckoned with, weed smoking, knuckles constantly torn, skin bruised, quick wit, sarcastic humour, daddy issues, you know the type. Kids loved him, parents hated him.

You were friends with JJ, you supposed. You spent your time with him talking about your days and smoking a joint, meaningful conversations turning into joking and general tomfoolery within seconds. With JJ, you were simply unapologetically you, and JJ never judged you. He never made you choose a side, seemingly content with the fact that you were a little bit of everything, though there was times when he teased you relentlessly about the Kook life, but that was just JJ.

And despite the social differences, him being a Pogue through and through, you technically a Kook, you were drawn to each other pretty easily. Not that you hung out all the time, but you loved every second when you did, usually joined by his group of best friends - John B, Pope, and Kiara. With Kiara a Kook herself but drawn more to the lifestyle of the Pogue's, she understood you more than anyone. You'd bonded a lot, and with each of them too.

JJ loved that you fitted in with them, like a missing puzzle piece. So perfectly, it shook him to its core. The pair of you were close, but he had no idea where he stood with you, like most people never when it came to you. You were like a rollercoaster, taking people for the most exciting ride of their lives that lasted a full three or so minutes before they returned back to solid ground. You'd given JJ a ride a number of times on your non-existent metaphorical rollercoaster, and he'd returned for another ride time and time again. You couldn't say no to that damned boy.

It was a blessing and a curse, the unspoken relationship you shared. A blessing because JJ was the best thing that happened to you, and a curse because that was your downfall. You never got attached to people, never given yourself the chance. But then JJ Maybank had come along, blonde hair and blue eyes, split lip and sharpened teeth, words cunning. You saw him as a challenge at first, the name Kook Princess haunting you as he spoke them, stood in front of you at the keg upon your first real meeting. He'd held a drink out towards you, smirk perfect on his pink lips.

You'd attended over a hundred kegger's in your lifetime, the Pogue parties more inviting than those of the Kook's. You danced and talked to anyone that came across your path, whether it be unknowing Tourons, unjudging Pogues, or unforgiving Kooks, you drew them all in. You didn't fit in with any of them, JJ had realised. You really did move in your own way, he thought. He liked that, he'd decided. And hey, you were pretty cute too.

On that particular night, he'd spoken to you directly for the first time in a long time. "Would the Kook Princess like a drink?" He'd asked, holding the red cup out towards you. You'd eyed the offended object, and subsequently him, too. He smirked at the attention. You had rolled your eyes.

"Don't call me that," you'd said simply, but taking the cup from his hands regardless. You took a sip, relieved to discover that he hadn't tampered with it in any way. You were still considered a Kook to most people, after all. You could never be too careful. "Thanks, Maybank."

And he'd blinked at you, lips suddenly raising to a sly smile as he shrugged, dimples winking at you as they appeared in his cheeks. "Anytime," and he'd spoken your name back to you and you couldn't get enough of the way it sounded coming from his mouth, and you realised hey, this guy is pretty cute, and the rest, as they, is history.

You were in the midst of another infamous Pogue kegger at the current, months after your first introduction to JJ Maybank and his friends, and you stood off to the side, listening to JJ intently as he ranted about the events of the day he'd endured. Starting from finding a Grady White sunken in the marsh, "A fucking Grady Marsh, they're like 500 G's man!", to discovering that the boat belonged to Scooter Grubbs, who had coincidentally been found dead that same day, to getting chased by two guys with a gun, to the finding of the motel key from the wreck and breaking in that same motel room, finding a safe full of money and a gun of all things, to their best attempt at laying low which, unsurprisingly, resulted in the kegger in the first place.

JJ was wild in his recite of the events, hands gesturing every which way as you watched him with your lips curled into your mouth, resisting a smile at his antics. When he finished he retelling, you raised an eyebrow and chuckled dryly. "So, complete and utter boring day for you, huh?"

JJ chuckled along with you, shaking his head as if he was still in disbelief from everything that had happened in the past twenty four hours. "Man, it was crazy," he muttered. He looked at you then, eyes sincere. "I wish you were there with us. It was like something straight from a movie, I'm telling you. I feel like such a badass with that gun."

Your secret joy at his confession of that he wished you were was short lived, as the last of his words sunk in and you felt dread build in the pit of your stomach. You stared at him, him so excited that he hadn't even realised your face had dropped, before you reached out and grabbed his arm, effectively halting his movements and stopping the hurried flow of words that were leaving his mouth.

"JJ," you said carefully, eyes trained on his as he stared, clueless. "Please tell me you did not take that gun from the safe."

Your heart dropped as you saw him falter, his lips helplessly moving but no words coming out. He held a hand up, as if to hush you, though you hadn't started to speak again, and then his hand had dropped just as quick as it was raised, his teeth biting down on his chapped lip as the realisation dawned on you.

"JJ Fucking Maybank," you spat, hands slapping gently at his arms, because you could never really hurt him, you just wanted him to know you were pissed. "Do you realise how fucking careless that is? How much trouble you could get into, if anyone knew you had a gun-" your voice trailed off, your eyes closing as you exhaled. "JJ, please tell me you don't have it on you right now."

His lack of reply was the only answer you needed, and your stomach churned as you stepped back from his figure, suddenly feeling sick. He followed you, though, not letting you get too far as he took your arms in his hands and tried to drag you closer to him once more. You shook your head, arms slipping from his hold as you glared at him fiercely.

"That's so fucking stupid, JJ. You could get into serious trouble with this, trouble I won't be able to get you out of." You warned, because you knew it was true. Your charm and looks could get him out of some trouble to its extent, but it was more so your parents wealth and status that got the both of you out of shit when you managed to get into it, and you also knew your parents would literally throw a fit if you got involved in something like this - carrying a gun was no joking matter. You stepped back once more, hand finding its way to your forehead. "And from a crime scene, no less. Fucking hell."

JJ licked his lips, standing back roughly as you watched, his jaw clenching. "Well I'm not asking for your help here, Princess," he taunted, the nickname sending a wave of annoyance through you. JJ knew it would. "It's not like I ask you to help me, you're just there. Thinking I need help, like I'm some fucking charity case, a fucking doll you picked up from the thrift store that was gonna be thrown out the next day."

You tried to protest, but JJ didn't give you the chance. "I don't need your help all the fucking time. I don't need your pity. I get that you won't understand because why would you? You're a Kook, you get everything you want handed to you on a silver platter. And you can argue and fight me about it all you want, but I know you know it's true."

He sighed heavily, hands running down his face in a sign of defeat. You watched him all the while, thankful that you had ventured off the outskirts of the party so that hopefully nobody had heard JJ shouting at you, your heart wrenching as his blue eyes settled on you. "I'm sorry, JJ," you said finally. You refused to cry, though the desire to at the sight of him being so mad at you tore you apart. "I'm just trying to look out for you. With the gun thing, with everything that I help you with. And I know I'm a Kook, and I know that my parents could afford to buy half of this fucking island if they pleased, but that doesn't define me. I care, okay? And I know I care a lot more than a lot of people in your life."

It was probably a low blow, and you knew it. But JJ took it in, let the words sink into his brain where they stayed there, his fists clenching at his sides. You crossed your arms over your chest, defeated.

"I'm gonna go back to the party," you whispered. "I'll see you around, I guess." You eyed his pockets, unsure of where exactly he held the gun. "Be careful, okay."

And even when you were angry with him, you still tried to make sure he was okay, that he stayed safe. There was multiple occasions you'd showed up unannounced, simply asking how his day was, if he okay, if he had eaten that day, stayed hydrated. At first the attention startled him, he'd never really had anyone look out for him in that aspect, and yet there you were, like an angel sent from the gods themselves, smiling down at him.

You cared, he realised. You cared so much that sometimes he couldn't take it, because he didn't know how. The most family he'd ever gotten close to having in his life was the Pogues, after losing his mother and subsequently losing his father too as he turned into the monster that he was, cold and distant, fists always poised ready for an imaginary fight, and he knew that someday the Pogues would even slip through his fingers. He couldn't let that happen with you. He wouldn't.

He'd started off in your direction, truly, he had. But then John B was grabbing him and averting his attention to him, and he focused on his friend, promising only a minute of his time. You were in his sights, stood a bit away, and he recognised the couple you were talking to as Sarah Cameron and Topper Thorton, Kooks through and through. He held his distaste back, and even held a drink out to offer to Sarah as she and Topper made their way past where he and John B were standing. Big fucking mistake, he realised quickly.

It had all happened in a blur of events, each little bit leading to big finale - as he watched his best friend being held down in the water, powerless to Topper who kneeled over him, hands forcing John B to stay put in the sea. Sarah was screaming at Topper, Pope was holding JJ back with all his might, Kie beside them as she screamed along with Sarah to let John B go. And there you were, suddenly beside JJ, gripping his arm tightly as you took in the sight with a horrified glare. JJ didn't even hesitate; the gun had been pulled from his shorts and was directed at Topper's head in the blink of an eye.

The fury in his veins was red hot and ugly, tearing through every part of him like a vice. This was the Pogues land, their side of the island, and yet the Kooks still thought they could get away with anything and everything - including, apparently, attempting to drown his best friend.

"Your move, broski," JJ uttered through clenched teeth. He could hear the screams of the crowd behind him, and he pulled the gun away from Topper's head and into the direction of the sky, firing two shots towards it as the crowd of people quickly dispersed, screeches sounding from all over. "Now everybody needs to get the fuck off our side of the island!"

He was shoved to the side as Sarah rushed to her boyfriend, telling him he was fucking crazy or something like that, he wasn't really listening. The shots rang in his ears, and the adrenaline of the moment soured through him. Kie and Pope were screaming at him, he could hear their voices distantly. His blue eyes were unfocused for a second, before they looked up, and there you were.

Sent from the gods themselves, once again. You looked vibrant, so insanely alive, lips red and cheeks flushed, eyes bright. You let out a shaky breath as you watched him. JJ clenched his jaw.

"He was going to drown John B," he thought he'd said, but he wasn't sure. He didn't really know what to keep track of at that moment, Kie and Pope's obvious disapproval at him literally doing the one thing they swore not to do, Sarah and Topper stumbling away from the scene in the distance, John B getting up and muttering something along the lines of he wasn't going to drown me, or you, simply staring at him.

Before he knew what he was doing, JJ had made his way towards you. The gun was still held in his hands, and you swallowed thickly as you eyed it. "You should put that away," you muttered. JJ seemed confused, before he caught on to what you meant and he shoved the gun back to the spot of in between his shorts and his hip. "You literally did the one thing I said not to, you tool."

JJ cracked a smile, small and uncertain as he gazed at you. You stepped closer to him, eyes glancing over his shoulder. "You really pissed them off," you said, meaning his friends.

JJ shrugged, because he didn't care about their opinion, he cared about yours. And if you hated him now, hated the fact that he was just some dirty Pogue who held guns against people's heads now, apparently. "I don't care about what they think," he spoke softly. You looked at him confused. "I care about what you think."

You smiled softly, shrugging one shoulder. "Topper was going to drown John B," you replied, matter of fact. "If you hadn't stepped in when you did, who knew what could have happened. Nothing could have stopped him." You bit your lip, hand reaching out and touching his face gently, thumb soothing over the worried line between his brows. "You did the right thing, J. A fucking crazy and stupid thing, potientally dangerous, but the right thing nonetheless."

"Yeah, that's kind of my go-to, if you haven't already noticed," JJ smiled, tongue running over his bottom lip. You rolled your eyes, though playful. "Look, I'm sorry about before, okay. I was a dick. I know you care, but sometimes that's what scares me."

Your eyebrows furrowed, a confused expression on your face as your hand dropped from his face to intertwine with his own hand, his gaze suddenly becoming fixed on your linked hands, his other absentmindedly playing with your fingers that held his hand.

"It's like, you're this untouchable thing. I mean, you don't belong to anyone, you refuse to go by anything other than your name, and you're like this perfect mix between Pogue and Kook even if you do hate it and everyone knows who are you and they make these stories up about you, like that's how popular you are," JJ chuckled. "And then you hang out with me, you look past all the dirty Pogue shit, see me for who I am, and you care. And you care so god dammed much that it fucking terrifies me because nobody's ever cared that much before about me, so why should you?"

His hand left yours to remove the hat from sitting atop his hair and then run his hand through the blonde locks. You could see his tongue running along the outsides of his bottom teeth, the action causing a bump beneath his skin. He looked nervous than you had ever seen him before, and you'd both gotten into enough nerve-wracking situations together to compare. You sighed as your hands reached for his face, gripping his cheeks and forcing his eyes to gaze down at yours.

"JJ Maybank," you started, grinning softly. "You listen to me while I tell you that you deserve the fucking world and more. All this shit that you're going through, all the crap you deal with on a daily basis, you carry it so well that nobody would even know. You fight through each day and I don't even know how you manage it half the time. I admire you so much, J. And I can't help but care about you, even if you don't want me to. I care about you so much, that you wanna know a secret? It scares me too."

JJ gazed down at you lovingly, his forehead moving to rest against yours. You welcomed the embrace, his arms wrapping around your waist and squeezing you gently, as if reassuring himself that you were actually there.

"JJ," you whispered as you were stood in silence for a precise minute, neither of you daring to break the silence until you had. His blue eyes stared into yours, awaiting the next part of your speech. You swallowed your nerves down, figuring fuck it. "I'm so in love with you."

He grinned, his head swooping down before you knew it and his lips pressing against yours in a heated embrace that sent a sensation of butterflies to fly wildly in your stomach, bashing against your ribcage and taking your breath away. Shivers flew up your spine, and every hair on your body stood on edge as the kiss grew heavier, tongues brushing and teeth clattering, bodies pressed against each other as much as they could manage.

When JJ's lips left yours, you almost whined. JJ grinned cheekily, hands digging into your hips. "I love you," he breathed against the skin of your neck as he buried his head there, lips tickling the flesh. "I can't believe you just macked on me while I have a gun in my pocket."

You rolled your eyes and tugged gently on his hair, spurring a laugh from him as you shoved him away and grinned despite yourself. "Do not remind me, please," you warned him, allowing him to pull you into his side as you made your way down the beach. "I still can't believe you took that thing."

"I knew it'd come in handy though," he grinned, pulling you closer with the arm thrown over your shoulder. You wrapped yours around his waist, face squished in his chest as you shook your head.

"You're an idiot, Maybank."

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