#and I can't wait to watch good things come your way
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❝ DO YOU FEEL ASHAMED? ❞ ✶ ELLIE WILLIAMS !
★⠀warning y disclaimers — eighteen+, ex!ellie, heavy angst, cheating, heartbreak, moving on, reader going through it, no happy ending y'all, this one has a little kick, ellie is a bit of a dirtbag in this, next time i write for her it'll be the most fluff.
RAYNE RAMBLES ★ wrote this last year after getting cheated on and it's just been sitting in my docs, forever. enjoy my pain?? idk, possible abby x reader sequel
ex!ellie who avoids you for a very long time after the breakup. she wishes it could be amicable between the two of you too, but it can't be. it never will be. ellie made sure of it. all of her belongings are still littered across your apartment, though her scent is gone, you still see her everywhere. you can't bring yourself to remove the framed photos of the two of you hanging across your home. she was happy, or so you thought, and you were. but today was the day. you were letting all of it go and her with it. your roommate had taken it all down for you, the strength to remove the past three years of your life just couldn't be found.
ex!ellie who doesn't really want to think about the way you'll look at her. her emerald eyes were always your favorite, you used to go on about how much you love them. how soft they looked at you, the light shining beneath them whenever she said something stupid and ellie just waited for your giggle or a hint of it anyway. they used to be kind to you, careful, even calm but it didn't seam to be the case anymore. ellie knew you wouldn't be either — not after she’s hurt you. carelessly, abusing your kind-hearted spirit, turned you to something resembling unbridled rage with a large dosage of resentment.
ex!ellie who is met with your roommate instead of you, before the door is slammed in her face. she expects to be met with sharp behavior. there wasn't a shadow of a doubt she did. ellie just wished it wasn't your best friend who she fucking hated. ellie never liked them. they never liked her and now she didn't have to hide it. what ellie couldn't stand was that they were right about her. three years in and instead of doing the decent thing, ellie chose to betray you. those closest to you were going to protect you from the enemy at all costs. the only you trust the most and cut you the deepest. as much as she despised it, it was all true.
ex!ellie who eventually gets you, after you hear her voice carelessly arguing with your friend. you place a box at the entry in front of her feet, before you walk away. ellie peaks through one foot in the door, but then you're already back with the second box. ellie can see the tears in your eyes and you see the guilt in hers. almost shining brighter than the shame. she knows how much it hurts you, her being here, being so close but so unimaginably far away it makes you want to hurl.
ex!ellie who watches you breathe deeply, your hands clenched into fists. before you're rubbing them at drained eyes, dark circles underneath them. she's to blame for everything you're going through. if she had just been honest from the beginning, maybe the two of you could've been friends and just left your love there. you were nothing but good to ellie, pure like white snow, and now the blood from her hands fell over you, staining you a violent red. you would never be pure again. no. not like before. you wouldn't ever blindly trust anyone just because you simply fell in love. putting yourself out like this again? no, you couldn't do it.
ex!ellie who tries to speak with you, mouth open, but no words are able to come out. she tried her best to put off this moment, the confrontation of the aftermath, facing the fact she had treated you like an afterthought, but you were more than just a thought ellie had tried to push away. you were a person she had left abandoned. she had promised you the world and caved when the time came to give in. she become everything you feared she would be, tearing you in little shreds of yourself as you tried to piece back what she had broke.
"you look like you haven't slept." ellie states, not really a question, but she almost phrases it as one. she doesn't have a right to ask. the two of you know she's forfeited knowing you, your life, how you're doing — she's the one whose damned it all.
"i don't really. not right now at least." you look anywhere but her eyes, your eyes concentrating towards the freckles meticulously scattered along her shoulders, her cheeks, and along her button nose. “anyways, should be everything of yours. i’ll contact dina if anything else shows up.” your tone sharp, clearly cutting through.
there’s no malice when you utter her girlfriend’s name, but ellie senses you’ll reserve the tone of betrayal just for her. she’s the one who abandoned her commitment to you.
not dina.
“can we talk? please?” ellie flashes her beautiful puppy eyes at you, once would make you melt, now you feel like throwing up.
“ellie.” there is it is, ellie thinks, betrayal and brutality laced in the voice who promised her a future. there once had been one, house, kids, a ring. it seems so silly now. it’s a warning the way you speak to her. don’t push your luck, williams.
she’s with dina. why does she even care?
she’d never seen you so upset, so vengeful, so tired of her. you weren’t lying when you never said you never wanted to see her again. every single beat of your heart meant it, the emotion cut off when you spoke to her, how you looked at her with this cold look in your eyes. arms crossed over your chest as if looking at her is the most taxing task in the world.
ellie was supposed to not care. she couldn’t, yet it bothered her you clearly didn’t.
“i have nothing i want to say, especially to you.” you bark, for the first time, ellie fears there might be a bite.
“i-i know i fucked up, okay? i just can’t stand the thought of you fucking hating me.” ellie pleads, a longing look in her eyes.
“well, i never thought i would, so i guess we’re all evolving and changing into horrible people.” you roll your eyes at her, watching as she struggles to pick up the boxes laid at her feet.
you loath how much you want to help her, but don’t.
you can’t.
“you’re not horrible.”
“well, you are.” your insult slapped her right across the face, the burning sensation stung but what hurt more was knowing you meant every word.
“this isn’t fair, i know what i did was bad, but i told you the truth. i didn’t lie, i confessed. isn’t it worth for at least, i dont know, a little empathy? something?” ellie sighed deeply, shoulders tense from the altercation with you. “
“you didn’t tell me because you’re a honest person. it’s because i would have found out and you were scared.” you scoff. “fuck you. wanting brownie points for admitting you cheated? go to hell.”
“what else could i have done? it was already too late.” ellie admits, shame laced in her eyes. you hope she feels every bit of shame for all the hell she’s put you through.
“i wonder why it was too late?” your sarcasm slicing through the air. ellie finally managed to get a grasp on boxes in her shaky hands as she tried to not crumble under your death glare from hell. “i was the last one to show up at the party to your new fucking relationship. huh, guess i would be one not invited? some weird fucking placeholder until you found something better. right under my fucking nose.”
she deserves every bit of it.
painfully, you were met with silence. ellie couldn’t do anything, apologize in a way she hadn’t before, beg for forgiveness, grovel for your compassion.
you were too angry, too heated, too fucking hurt. there’s only a split second of it, ellie almost missed it, but she saw it clearly. the gloomy blues hidden beneath your beautiful eyes, slowly becoming more evident. you’re trying your best to hide it beneath anger, mask it from her, but she sees it.
tears building the more your voice escalates and ellie would truly hate herself if she made you cry in front of her, again. she’s can’t see you do it again. it’s the last thing she wants. she can’t keep hurting you.
dina, fuck. she has to protect her. ellie’s unsure if you’ll lash out on here. you haven’t yet, but breakups pull the worst out of you and she’s fearful for the women she does love.
“just…don’t take it out on dina, alright? if you wanna be mad, fine. as much as i wish i could fix it, i know nothing i can say or do will earn your trust back. okay?”
your heart breaks at her instinct to protect dina, how she used to do the same for you. it nearly splits you into an abyss, cracking your soul just where she had nicked it. almost seemed intentional at this point.
“i would never be mean to her. she didn’t promise me a future together, you did. hope you have lovely fucking life with her.”
ex!ellie who is met with the wooden door being slammed in her face, nearly kissing her chin. she stayed there long enough to hear you cry, sitting on the concrete to hear the consequences of loving someone else who wasn’t her girlfriend, well now ex. she craved to punch something, someone. you whined, a name quietly dropped from your perfect lips, abby, your fucking best friend. she would be the one to comfort you, pick up the pieces of the wreckage ellie had left you with. it scorned her, letting a flame loose on her skin, with the thought of you with her. but she didn’t get to have feelings, she couldn’t be upset with how you chose to reassemble your sanity. not when she’s the one who broke you. even if it’s with the woman she always feared you love more than a friend.
DAILY CLICK + DONT BUY TLOU + DONATE
#AHHHH PAIN ?#GO AWAY ???!!!?????#yeah ... </3#ellie williams#ellie williams x reader#tlou#the last of us#ellie williams x you#ellie williams x female reader#ellie williams x y/n#ellie williams fanfiction#tlou2#ellie williams angst
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Weekly Recap | May 6th-12th 2024
Have a good week everyone!
If you know anyone who isn't tagged, please tag them in the comments!
Complete
you don't wanna know me now by spaceprincessem/ @spaceprincessem (Post-S7E7 | 1,3K | Teen): “Just one date,” Kim says casually, though she’s definitely picked up on whatever weird, uncomfortable tension has just entered the room with them, “this past Friday.” “Friday?” Buck repeats in an octave much higher than his normal one. Because Friday... Friday was when he watched Christopher while Eddie went out on date with — not Marisol, apparently.
taurus moon, libra rising by coldbam/ @coldbam (Established Buddie | 1,4K | General): “And I’m getting a lot of Virgo energy from Firefighter Diaz.” “Oh my God, he is a Virgo.” Buck excitedly smacks Eddie on the arm. “Do me next!” ~ Buck falls into astrology. Eddie is Eddie.
Mistakes by theotherlucifer/ @theotherbuckley (S7E7 Coda | 1,6K | Teen): Or Eddie Diaz makes bad decisions, but he can't help it, it's his wife.
Fluttering Wings of Freedom by Princessfbi/ @princessfbi (S7E5 Spec, Coming Out | 2K | General): Hen didn’t really know what she expected to find. Her mind had raced through a million different scenarios, catastrophizing the way only a paramedic could when faced with getting a phone call from her wife telling her to forget the groceries and hurry home. She’d expected broken glass or maybe blood and tears. What she didn’t expect was to find Karen sitting patiently in the arm chair with a cup of hot cocoa in her hands, a bottle of Jack on the coffee table, and Buck practically vibrating on her couch.
wait for the feeling of you by coldbam/ @coldbam (PWP, Established Buddie | 2K | Explicit): “Fuck. Get up here. Let me take care of you.” Eddie feels Buck shake his head, still nuzzled against his thigh. He gives one last kiss to Eddie’s skin, then starts extracting himself from between Eddie’s legs, wiping his mouth along the way. “No, I’m good. We’re running late as it is.” And…that is reasonable and rational. They did get a bit carried away, and they are expected to make an appearance at Bobby’s for a barbeque. Except…
meditating on your lips by coldbam/ @coldbam (PWP | 3K | Explicit): Buck comes out, and Eddie has some interesting dreams.
blackout by rainbow_nerds/ @rainbow-nerdss (Getting Together | 3K | Explicit): Buck wakes up hungover on Eddie's couch, with no memory of the night before. Eddie's at just as much of a loss as he is, but their friends seem to know something they don't.
let it once be me (who do i have to speak to) by lenaboskow (Post-S7E4, Getting Together | 3K | Teen): “Why not me?” Eddie didn’t mean to say it. The question had been banging around in his head for the past week, but now it was out in the open, echoing off the walls of the loft for Buck to hear instead of safe in his mind. “Why– what do you mean?”
things you shouldn’t say to me by coldbam/ @coldbam (Getting Together, PWP | 4K | Mature): Eddie comes out, sleeps around, and Buck hears all about it.
little by little by MediaWhore/ @mediawhorefics (BuckTommy, Madney Wedding | 4K | General): Or Buck & Tommy, during and after the wedding.
he's never gonna love you like I want to by BekkaChaos/ @bekkachaos (S7, Demisexual Eddie | 5K | Teen): Eddie and Marisol talk about their relationship and the next step, and Eddie tries to articulate how he feels and why things aren't moving as fast as Marisol wants. A couple of days later Buck goes to Eddie's and they have a long talk about their feelings and their relationships, and probably let things go unsaid that aren't yet ready to come out.
Exhale by themandylion (Presumed Dead | 5K | Not Rated): Buck’s Jeep gets stolen, which is a pretty shitty way to start the day. The 118 answer a collision and find said Jeep on fire, a deceased driver inside, which is arguably an even worse way to start the day.
Give Us The Grown by fruitsdoesnotknow (Getting Together | 8K | Teen): Buck starts leaving notes for Eddie. Eddie writes notes for Buck right back. They were always going to end up writing their own love story.
the tiniest moves you make by allyasavedtheday/ @littlespoonevan (Maddie POV | 8K | Teen): Five times Buck talks to Maddie about Eddie intercut with five times Eddie talks to Maddie about Buck and one time they manage to figure it out on their own.
why do i always feel like i'm in the twilight zone by chromatophorica/ @chromatophorica (Supernatural AU | 6K | General): The 118 is a prolific, all supernatural station. They face the hardest of calls for this reason, but they're curious about what species Buck is from the start. When they find out, it's a complex navigation to keep him where he belongs.
drink up (you're wasted on me) by okanus (S7E6, Bachelor Party, Infidelity, PWP | 9K | Explicit): Or: Eddie and Buck hook up at the bachelor party. Difficulties ensue.
gone fishing by coldbam/ @coldbam (Accidental Catfishing, Getting Together | 9K | Mature): “Someone is catfishing as you.” His eyes are wide and his face is serious. Stressed. Eddie has no idea what he’s talking about. “What?” Buck slows down and carefully says each word. “Someone's using stolen photos of you on a dating app. Pretending to be you.” He looks miserable, like it pains him to deliver this news. Eddie’s face must still show confusion, because Buck lets out a frustrated huff and then shoves his phone right in front of his face. “Look.” And. Shit. Buck’s phone shines brightly in the evening light of the loft, and there, nearly blinding him, is his own Tinder profile.
🔥 It's a church of burnt romances (and I'm too far gone to pray) by justhockey (Coming Out, Post-S7E5 | 15K | Mature): Eddie looks back, sifting through the ashes of every relationship he’s ever had that has burned to the ground. And his hands shake, and his heart beats too fast, and it’s there, right on the tip of his tongue. It’s close enough that he could reach out and touch it if he were brave enough. The reason, that no matter how hard he tried - no matter how much he wanted to, or how often he literally prayed for it - his relationships with women have never worked out. And he knows. Knows that no amount of women, or trying, or praying will ever be able to change it. You can’t fix what isn’t broken, and Eddie isn’t broken. He isn’t. He’s just…well. He’s in love with Buck, isn’t he?
🔥 The Pain Will Leave You Once It's Done Teaching You by fruitsdoesnotknow (Canon Divergent, Daniel Lives-kinda | 40K | Mature): When Daniel Buckley lives a little longer, Evan Buckley dies a little more. And this is how Eddie Diaz saves him, a little later on.
🔥what if i can't have us by woodchoc_magnum/ @woodchoc-magnum (Post-S7E5, Getting Together, Sexuality Crisis | 47K Explicit): In which Eddie is dating Marisol; Buck's dating Tommy, and Eddie has feelings about that, which he simply does. not. understand.
WIP
🔥 Things We're All Too Young to Know by Daisies_and_Briar / @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon S1-S6, S7 Spec | 127/? | 397K | Mature): This is a love story. Even if it doesn’t always look like it. Even if it doesn’t always feel like it. A look back on Eddie and Buck's lives up to now, and what led them to each other, interpreted from the current 9-1-1 canon.
🔥 change the prophecy by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Alternate Timeline, Curse/Magic | 9/11 | 22K | Mature): Buck has never felt secure in any of his relationships; he’s been searching for someone to see him the way he feels he’s meant to be seen, but after things start going downhill with Tommy, he thinks that person might just not exist. Eddie cannot figure out what’s wrong with him when it becomes clear things with Marisol aren’t going to work out. But what if they’re both forgetting something?
🔥 stuck now so long, we just got the start wrong by Daffi_990_ao3/ @daffi-990 (Canon Divergent, Different First Meeting | 4/10 | 31K | Not Rated): Probational Firefighters Evan “Buck” Buckley and Eddie Diaz meet on a call which ends with them at odds with each other. As the months roll by, they keep running into each other on the job, much to Eddie’s dismay and Buck’s delight. Can they put aside their first opinions and misunderstandings and allow the seeds of friendship, and possibly something more, to take root?
What’s Your Order? by JJK/ @trenchcoatsandtimetravel (Post-S7E5, BuckTommy | 4/6 | 10K | Teen): 5 Times Buck Guessed Tommy’s Coffee Order + 1 Time He Didn’t Have To
Held Up a Lightning Rod (Wonder Why I'm Struck) by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Not A Firefighter Eddie, Sugar Baby Buck | 1/? | 5K | Explicit): When Eddie Diaz stumbles his way into money, he finds himself one of the most eligible bachelors in Los Angeles - to his dismay. He needs a way to get people off his back without confessing his messy marital situation, and Shannon's still not answering his calls, so he caves to a friend's suggestion: hire someone to pretend to be his partner. Enter Evan "Buck" Buckley: sugar baby, fire fighter, and the man about to turn Eddie's world upside down.
Podfic
🔥 [Podfic] When the Lost are Found by MistMarauder/ @mistmarauder for ReformedTsundere/ @film-in-my-soul (Soulmates AU | 20-30 min | General): When everyone seems to have a better soulmate identifying system, Buck can't help but consider his own to be lackluster. How's he meant to find his soulmate with loose change and mismatched socks after all?
🔥 [podfic] Trade-In by All_I_Ask/ @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove for themandylion (Post-S4, Getting Together | 1-1.5h | Not Rated): It starts with Buck trading in his beloved Jeep. It ends with a confession, a kiss, and Buck trading in his apartment too. Or: If you didn't think Buck research binges wouldn't eventually take him to safety specs for his car, you don't know Buck.
🔥 [podfic] my heart’s over-pumping and your mouth is an ambulance by All_I_Ask/ @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove for fleetinghearts/ @shitouttabuck (Post-S6, Getting Together | 1-1.5h | Teen): or, a fever, a party, a late night tv show: three times eddie’s heart falls out his ass because buck keeps looking at him like that. he’s just got to find a way to tell him that doesn’t involve a convoluted cephalopod analogy about love
🔥 [Podfic] Tell Me About Despair by radpaisley // fic by @hattalove (Post-S4, Sexuality Crisis | 1/5 | 2-2.5h | Mature): eddie's not entirely sure he believes in getting help, at least not for himself. there's only so much healing to be had for a body torn apart by bullets, for a mind that's only half there, for a man who's been leaving pieces of himself behind all his life with nothing to take their place. except, as it turns out, falling apart happens in increments, and healing does, too: it happens when you gnaw a hole in your lip trying to keep quiet only to have the words escape; when you realize that the ghost you've been seeing out of the corner of your eye is yourself; when your best friend smiles, and you allow it to take your breath away. it happens through the smallest of things: bird feeders, and cacti, and pasta shapes. meanwhile, the world goes on.
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𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐝 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞'𝐬 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐦
↳ summary: the x-men can't seem to leave you alone, even if you've made it clear that you want nothing to do with them. as a last-ditch effort, they send logan, who's a little different than the rest
↳ notes: man writing this fucked me up. i kept editing it because i didn't like how it sounded, so some feedback would be much appreciated
↳ warnings: mentions of blowing things up in a past instance, but no one died. reader is a mutant and their powers are kept ambiguous, but it is implied they can somehow cause explosions
↳ song: promiscuous—nelly furtado
masterlist | commissions | carrd
The first time they sent someone, you had been excepting it
You weren't dumb. You knew the difference between an innocent bystander and a hired gun; or at least something along those lines. The way people walked talked and carried themselves was always a dead giveaway, and recently you had been surrounded by a few too many intense stares and stiff shoulders for your liking. A lot more than you were used to, in fact. Maybe that's what prompted you to start taking a new way home from work instead of the usual combination of cross walks and dirty bus seats.
The quick guy with silver hair was their first attempt at contact. You had found him waiting outside your apartment for you to get home all but a week after noticing the new attention on you, and you would have ignored him too if it wasn't for the fact that he was sitting on the outside your balcony, kicking his feet merrily off the side about ten stories above the pavement below without a care in the world. And with what looked like a twinkie in his hand, too.
You'd closed the blinds without a second thought, tossing him a fake grin and a little wave when he eventually turned around as you slammed them shut. You were fairly certain he could have stopped you in no time flat, if the way you would watch him zip away in the blink of an eye later said anything, but you took a heat-of-the-moment gamble and were satisfied when all your efforts got was a whine from the other side of your window pane. His mouth was too full of pre-packaged pastry to say anything in the moment, you realized
"Not interested." You called over your back as you began to retreat into your kitchen without another moments notice.
"You haven't even heard what I want!" He said thickly, clearly trying to swallow as he spoke. You must have startled him a little then. Good.
"And I don't need to."
He left a few minutes later when his one sided conversationalist skills got him no where, and you responded by throwing a frozen pizza in the lower half of your oven.
You had been craving pepperoni all day anyway.
The second person try was a bit more aggressive.
They didn't have the decency to wait for you to come home this time. Instead, you found yourself looking up from your laptop as a chair was pulled out across from you at the quaint table you sat at. It made a scraping noise, and you tensed the muscles in your hands for a moment at the sound.
"Can I help you." Your eyebrow quirked up as you looked at the woman across from you. She had blonde hair, and what you thought were the brownest eyes you had even seen. You had trouble looking anywhere but into them for a second. When they hit the light, you swore they turned yellow just for a moment, and she looked about as annoyed as you were that she was sitting by you. You didn't have to wait long to find out why.
"We've been trying to reach you." The surrounding noise of the café hardly disturbed the hard tone in her voice. "You're avoiding us."
At least this time these people had the common sense to approach you in public. If you were any form of confrontational, which you very much weren't, you could have started a fight the last time. Who knows if you would have won against super speed and whatever else the first guy had— you weren't exactly sure about the extent of his powers, and at this point didn't care —but the point remains that some damage could have been done. Now, in the middle of a coffee shop on a busy afternoon, it would be a bit harder to start a fight. Not that you were seriously concidering it. If anything, you wanted to duck into a large crowd just to loose this new recruiter, or whatever they were called. You didn't exactly know if they had a name for this type of situation.
"I have no idea who you are." Your tone matched her own, dealing out the half lie nonchalantly. You weren't technically wrong, really. You didn't know her, nor did you know that other man that had shown up before. But you knew what they wanted, and you'd be damned if they didn't pin you down without a bit of a struggle.
Moving with a speed quick enough to get your message across, but not fast enough as to alert any of the surrounding coustomers that something was up, you closed your laptop, abandoned your now lukewarm drink, and started for the door. You only paused in your movements after a weight settled over the back of your shoulder, and you carefully turned your neck to look down at the hand resting firmly on you.
"I don't recommend doing that." You said with a bit of a warning tone in your voice, looking her right in the eyes as you did so. They had since shifted from dark brown to an almost hazel shade, and you filed that information away for later use.
Her grip remained where it was for a moment. Then a thought seemed to cross her mind, and she let go of her hold on your shirt; even if a bit reluctantly.
You didn't stick around to see if anything else would happen. You just made your way out of the shop and into the bustling street, not caring if she followed. They already knew where you lived anyway.
"Taxi!!"
The final person they sent for you, you hadn't seen coming.
Every other time— from the teleporting blue kid, to the woman with white hair and fair skin, and even the tall guy in glasses that had turned a little blue when you pushed your way past him —you had been able to prepare beforehand. At the very least you were able to lock your doors before going out and about your day. You knew that wouldn't stop them in the slightest, but it was a silent message to stay out of your business.
But this guy? This guy just didn't care at all.
"You know, you're really nailing this first impression thing."
A gruff voice sprang to life at the same moment that your hallway lights did, doing a fine job at catching you off guard. You managed to not jump, but with the way the intruders lips tilted up, you figured he knew he had surprised you.
"Oh, fuck my life."
You were really not feeling like another impromptu visit tonight. You had gotten home from a rough day of work a couple of hours ago, only to realize that you had finally blown through all your food, and was once more sent back out into the city to look for a grocery store. You had been looking forward to finally resting your feet, and maybe your eyes a few hours earlier than planned, and you most certainly weren't in the right state of mind to entertain this hulking figure of a man and the proposition that came with him.
You looked at him harshly. He had muscles for days, and a brown leather jacket to accentuate just how large he was. You knew for a fact that he was a few weight classes up from the last guy that had been sent to your house, and you wondered if this was their way of trying to intimidate you into forcefully accepting their offer.
Tiny scars dotted his face and the skin on his neck. You wondered why there were so few, considering that you already knew what he did for a living, but also knew better than to question someone like him. Especially since he was already standing in the doorway to your home, looking like he owned the place.
"Go away." You didn't grant him any sort of emotion in your voice as you walked in the direction of your fridge. The plastic bags full of your food for the week swung in your arms, and for a moment you thought this new guy was going to block your way into the rest of the house before he backed off with a roll of his shoulders.
You clocked his broad chest and bruised knuckles out of the corner of your eyes as you opened the ice box and slowly placed some frozen veggies in side by side. He had either gotten here straight from a fight, or was itching for one. You figured it was probably the former considering he hadn't jumped you the second you walked through the door. Or you know, maybe he just had fucked up hands. You could never tell with people at this point.
"You're pleasant." The mans wry smile was nothing but headache educing as you finished putting the cold groceries up. You snorted with hollow amusement.
"Try being stalked for a month and a half. It really makes you feel like being hospitable."
"Try being the guy that gets sent to get in contact with you. It ain't exactly the way I wanted to be spending my Friday night either." He parroted back your words while running a hand down his face and across what you had since recognized as mutton chops in the process.
"When are you going to tell that professor of yours that I'm not interested in his little passion project." You think that might have been the first time you ever directly acknowledged what exactly was going on. Every other time you had just told the other person to get lost or slammed a door in their face to really get the point across, but the way this guy was looking at you gave you the feeling that he wouldn't be as easy to shoo away as the others, and you weren't really feeling up for a giant display of effort right about now.
"You could always tell him yourself, bub." His eyes followed your face as you crossed the room to stop in front of him, hand outstretched with something that ignited a small smirk on his face.
"Trying to bribe me?" He asked, going to take the fresh beer you offered him all the same. You shook your head.
"No. My master plan actually consists of getting you shit-faced drunk so you guys will finally leave me alone." You watched as his hand hesitated in mid-air slightly, and you misinterpreted his silent amusement at your jab for skepticism. "I've just got too much beer and a stranger in my apartment that's not going to leave me alone anytime soon, that’s all." You relented with a shrug.
"Fair enough." He took the brown bottle by the neck and popped open the top without so much as looking around for a bottle opener. When the cap went rushing to the floor less than a second later, you squinted.
"What are you then? Super strong? Or is your power alcoholism." That got a rough chuckle out of him. He swallowed about half of the bottle in one go before answering, and you sucked at your teeth as he did so.
"Something like that."
"Wow. Really feeling the comradery here." You didn't miss the way he deadpanned at that, and you figured he was thinking about all of the times you had kicked every other pursuer to the curb without even letting them get a word in edge wise. Still, you pushed on. "Remind me how its fair that you and your friends know all about me, but I have a new hero-of-the-week showing up on my doorstep every other day without so much as a clue as to what they could do to me?"
"About as fair as your little accident in Colorado." He responded without a seconds hesitation. You felt a little perspiration form on the back of your neck, and chalked it up to the lack of a.c in the room. Even if it was anything but.
"If you're here to try and convince me to join your little superhero team, I hate to tell you, but it isn't going to work. Just like it didn't work the past ten times." You ignored his last comment and made yourself comfortable on your living room couch. "Do you have a name? I've never really stuck around to talk to one of you this long before, and it's annoying to keep rendering to you as 'some guy' in my head."
He paused abruptly while drinking the beer, and you barely held back from rolling your eyes at his change in mood.
"It's Logan." He finally bit out reluctantly. You got the feeling that the only reason he told you was because he was here by request. If it has been any other circumstances, you had no doubts that he would have told you to fuck off. He gave off that energy.
"You already know mine, so I'm not gonna bother." You kicked your feet up and let your head hit the back of the couch with a sigh. "Just let me know when you finally get bored and head out. I want to make sure my landlord knows to blacklist you from the building after you're gone."
"Is this how you got everyone else to leave? By annoying them to death?" Logan sounded more entertained then you would have liked, and you blamed it on the beer.
"Depends. Is it working?"
"I've been sleeping at a school filled with screaming kids for the past few weeks. You're going to have to try harder than that to get me out of here." He took another swig.
"What will it take to get you to leave me alone. All of you." Your voice dipped out of it's usually casual tone for a more annoyed one. You were used to playing the long game when it came to getting people to leave you alone, but at this point it was getting ridiculous with the amount of people that they were throwing at you, and it was starting to wear you out. You weren't sure if Logan could tell your patience was being tested, and you weren't sure if you wanted him to.
Logan raised one eyebrow in your direction as an answer to your question, and you sighed.
"I'm not taking a stupid fucking spot on the X-Men if that's what you're implying. What do I have to do to convince you guys that I'm not up for it; blow up a building on accident or something?" The word 'again' went unsaid, but the implication was there.
You watched as Logan seemed to throw something around in his mind for a moment.
"Do you want to know why I joined the X-Men?" He eventually asked.
"Because you had nothing else to do with yourself other than styling your hair real stupid? Seriously what's with this horn thing you've got going in."
"I joined because they helped pull me off a dark path, kid." He barreled past your sarcasm, shutting you down quicker than you would like to admit. His tone was laced with something you recognized all as hatred, and you knew it wasn't directed at you, but rather himself. You knew the feeling all too well.
"I was running from something that I didn't even know I was trying to avoid." He continued. "And if it wasn't for the Professor and his 'stupid fucking team', I wouldn't have ever stopped."
For the first time in the past few minutes, you allowed one of your walls to come down as he spoke. You stared at him with a tired look lingering behind your gaze, choosing this time to listen rather than to ignore.
"I'm not running from anything." Even as you said it, you knew it was a lie. Logan didn't even have to look at you for you to sigh and lean forward again.
"I can see why the Professor wants you on the team." You felt the cushions on the opposite end of your couch dip slowly as he sat down. The now empty beer bottle was still in his hand, but as you looked over at Logan, you found his eyes filled to the brim with nothing but the honest truth.
It was a strange, tense moment. Both you and Logan could admit that. You were clearly filled with regret for your past actions, no matter how accidental they might have been, and conflicted with yourself because of it. Logan could do nothing more but watch as you battled with yourself over his words. His original plan had been to come here, show off a claw or two if needed, and bring you back to the school with a characteristic scowl on his face. But all that was thrown out the window when you offered him a beer, and when he was finally able to get a good look at you.
You looked exactly how he used to before one of his old cage matches. Detached and losing yourself. He could see it in your eyes.
The room delved into silence. You wrung your hands together and planted your feet. Logan watched as you seemed to have a silent conversation with yourself, and he began to regret not pacing himself with the beer. He wasn't anywhere near affected by the alcohol, that's to say. He just wished he had something to do other than sit in your home with squared shoulders and a furrowed brow.
"If I took one trip over to the place, would you guys let up on whatever this is?" You finally asked. Logan pushed down a faint smirk as you turned your neck to look at him.
"Sure."
You didn't say anything else, and you didn't have to. You got up without another word and grabbed a bag from a nearby closet. Logan found himself leaning on your doorframe as you stuffed a few essentials down into your travel bag in the room over, and he remained there until you finished.
"Still curious about my powers?" Logan decided to bait you just a little further as you shut the door to your apartment with a click of your keys, and he had trouble keeping a straight face when you looked back at him with curiosity dancing across your features.
Without saying anything, he held one of his hands up, and let you watch as his trademark claws popped up slowly. Like seasonal weeds in a garden full of flowers. The appendages let out a slight sliding noise as they did so, and you blinked once. Twice. Three times.
"And I thought my powers were bad." You finally said after a moment, and Logan scoffed at you.
"Kid, everyone thinks their powers are bad at first."
You seemed to take that as a challenge, and Logan watched as a bit of that fire that he'd heard about from Storm and the others flared up in you.
"Yeah? You ever accidently blow up a boiler room and take out half your high school's classes, big guy?" Your grin was all teeth as the two of you made your way down the complex hallway. Logan slowed his pace so you could keep up, and turned around so he could fully look at you as he walked backwards.
"Big guy?" He questioned you with a tilted of his head, looking about as unimpressed as he could.
"I mean yeah." You snickered. "Just look at your, well, everything." You took to gesturing at his entire being, something that got you a huff from the other man.
"Maybe you're just small." He shot back. You laughed and shook your head, looking down at yourself. Yeah right.
"And maybe I'm right, and you're just freakishly big."
Your banter continued all the way down to the elevator, where you had a hard time holding in your laughter as Logan accidentally almost stabbed the down button with his claws, apparently having forgotten that they were even out.
You couldn't help but wonder if he was always like this; if everyone at the school was like this.
Maybe going for a visit wasn't as much as a bad idea as you'd thought.
#xmen#xmen x reader#xmen x you#xmen x y/n#wolverine#logan howlett#wolverine x reader#wolverine x you#wolverine x y/n#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett x you#logan howlett x y/n#peter maximoff#mystique#charles xavier#x reader#one shot
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Whiplash (6)
Pairing: Felix x Reader x Hyunjin
Genre: Street Racing, Gang, Friends to Lovers
Warnings: Sexually Suggestive Things, Language, Jealousy, 18+ ONLY
Word Count: 4.2k
Taglist: @sheala--marie @kayleefriedchicken @chartrucewhore @cookiesnmilfx @thicccurls @aznstoner @velvetmoonlght
One | Two | Three | Four | Five |
“You're fucking psycho if you think I'll ever be back in this house again.” You spit. “Who are you? The San I knew would never have done this! Never would have drugged me!” You scream.
Felix and Hyunjin stare at you like they have just seen a ghost.
“I-I never drugged you!” He stuttered. “Are you sure your brain is working?” He laughs.
“There's no way I'd sleep for 12+ hours without you slipping something into my water. I knew it tasted funny!” You yell.
“You mother fucker!” Felix yells, lunging for San. Hyunjin grabs onto him, holding him back. He knows it won't do anyone any good for them to fight, especially you. As angry as he was right now, he knew he needed to do what was best for you and Felix getting into a fight with San would surely not be good for your recovery.
“If I see you out, you better watch your fucking back. I'm sick of you and your shit with Y/N. I swear to god if you touch her again ill fucking kill you.” Felix screams as Hyunjin pulls him outside, with you following closely behind.
Felix pulls himself out of Hyunjin’s grip, walking a little down the short walkway, taking deep breaths to try and calm down.
“I'm sorry.” you whisper. Felix turns around, he looks confused. Hyunjin stares at you in disbelief.
“Sorry for what?” Felix asks, walking closer to you.
“for everything. For believing San over you guys, for coming here, for just everything that I put you through the last little bit.” You cry.
“Listen to me.” Hyunjin starts. “You didn't put us through anything. HE put you and us through hell for his own sick enjoyment.” Hyunjin tells you. You can hear it in his voice how angry and upset he is at the moment.
“Never apologize for this. This wasn't you at all.” Felix chimes in. “So don't feel guilty, don't be upset and don't ever think we're mad at you for any of this.” He finishes.
The three of you walk to the car, Felix opening the passenger door for you before climbing in the back while Hyunjin takes the driver's seat.
“Now.” He starts. “We can go to the house or your apartment, which one do you want?”
“My apartment please.” You breathe. “I begged San to take me there but he wouldn't. I just want to be home.” You say. Hyunjin smiles as he starts to drive in the direction of your place. They were so fucking happy that you had come back to them, but they couldn't help but wonder how long they would have you for before something went wrong, because in their life, something always went wrong.
“Ah, my bed!” You squeal as you lay down gently in your bed, making sure not to hit the still tender wound on the back of your head.
“Are you hungry? Thirsty? Is there anything we can get you? Do you want us to stay? Go?” Felix asks. He really hoped you would ask them to stay.
“Please stay. I don't wanna be without you guys.” You smile. “I know we're really just starting out this relationship and already so many things have happened..” you pause. “So if you want out, tell me now.” You finish, holding your breath.
They both look confused again.
“Out?” Hyunjin asks.
“Why would we want out?” Felix asks.
“Because. Like I said. So much has happened.” You mutter.
“I've waited years for you baby, I'm not going anywhere unless I'm 6 feet in the ground.” Felix says.
“Yeah, you wanna get rid of me love, you're gonna have to kill me.” Hyunjin winks.
How did you end up so fucking lucky? You usually weren't the one to have the happy ending but maybe now things are finally changing for you?
You get under the covers in your bed, patting either side for the boys. They crawl in with you, snuggling up to you. You can't help but fall asleep so quickly, feeling so safe and loved right now. Over the next week you spent almost all your time in bed with Felix and Hyunjin waiting on you hand and foot. By the end of the week you felt back at 10p% and you were so grateful for them. As the three of you went to bed that night, you had a plan for the next day and you hoped they would be on board.
**
You wake up in the morning, feeling refreshed and sweaty. You have Felix’s arm draped around you with Hyunjin’s leg pinning you down. Your head was kinda sore but not as bad as it had been. You were finally feeling more yourself but you knew you needed to take some advil or something to alleviate the soreness you were in. You felt normal again and you loved it.
“Felix.” you groan, poking up. “Hyunjin. Move. My head is sore. I need something.” You say. Both men shoot up in bed, scrambling out and each running in a different direction to find you something. Minutes later Felix comes back with medicine while Hyunjin appears with some water.
“Perfect.” You smile, taking the pills and water. “Thank you. But you know you really didn't need to rush. It's just a small headache.” You giggle.
Felix looks at his phone, then looks back at you. “The guys want to see you.. I guess Chan is really beating himself up about this.” He sighs. You crawl out of bed, looking for some clothes.
“Well let's go then.” You say, grabbing an outfit to change into.
An hour later you're sitting outside the house. “Are you sure you're up for it?” Hyunjin asks.
“Definitely.” You smile. You wanted your normal life back and you needed them to stop treating you like you were a fragile glass doll. You were more resilient than they knew. The three of you walk up to the door. When the door opened, there stood 6 men with smiles on their faces to greet you.
“I'm so glad you're back, Y/N. Once you're up for it I want a beer chugging rematch.” Han laughs, wrapping his arms around you.
“You wanna lose again?” You giggle, moving on to Changbin who squeezes you tightly.
Seungmin and Lee Know both give you a quick hug, murmuring something you didn't quite catch, while Jeongin pulls you in tightly as well. You walk over to Chan, who's standing a little ways back from the group, his head hangs low as you approach him.
“I should have told the cops it was San..Y/N I'm so sorry for this whole thing. It's my fault.. I should have..” he continues to say, but you cut him off.
“Chan, stop it. You couldn't have known how things were going to turn out. I was fine and then I wasn't but I'm okay now. And I hope you know I'm not mad at you and I don't hold any of your decisions against you.” You say. You open your arms, pulling the sad man into you. He wraps his arms around you tightly, sniffling into your shoulder.
“Alright, alright.” Felix says, pulling you away from Chan. “She needs to rest now, go on.” He says, shooing the man away.
“Lix, I'm fine.” You smile. He looks at you like he's going to melt.
“Lix, huh?” He grins. “I like it.”
“Do you?” You say, matching his grin. You lean in closer to him, your lips brushing against his ear. “My Lixxie.” You whisper.
“Oh baby.” He groans, his deep sultry voice coming out to play. “You're just asking for it, aren't you?”
You turn your head, smirking as you look at Hyunjin. “You think I'm asking for it Jin?” You wink. He chuckles as he walks towards the two of you. “Mhmm, Jin? I don't know.” He sighs.
“How about Jinnie?” You whisper.
“I could get used to that.” He grins.
You lean in, your lips so close to touching before Chan pipes up.
“ Sorry to interrupt boys but we've got business to take care of.” He says, looking at Hyunjin and Felix.
“A race?” You question, looking between the two men.
Hyunjin and Felix both glance at each other before Hyunjin sighs. “Yeah there's a race tonight. But we have some things to take care of beforehand.” He says, looking at Felix.
“Stay here. We'll be back as soon as we can, okay?” Felix smiles.
No. You didn't want to stay. You were better, you wanted to go.
“I'm coming.” You say. You flashback to the last time you went and what happened. But you couldn't be afraid forever.
Felix and Hyunjin knew that they couldn't control you and if you said you felt ready then you were ready. They just hated the fact that they couldn't protect you while they raced.
“Fine. But while we race you need to stay with Chan and Changbin, okay? San will likely be there.” Hyunjin sighs.
You nod your head, excited to be able to see them race again. You stayed at the house while they went out and did whatever they needed to do before the rave, when they were done they swung by the house and picked an excited you up and headed out.
The crowd was larger than you remembered. There were more people racing this time and the spot was a lot bigger. You felt sure that with this many people in this big of a place you wouldn't see San.
“Who's racing now?” You ask Felix as the two of you sit on the bed of someone's truck, watching the tires spin and burn while the flag drops and the cars peel off.
“That would be Got7 in the blue car, I think it's Jinyoung driving. And then it's Lucas from NCT in the yellow one.” Felix says, sliding his arm around your shoulder.
Hyunjin walks over to the two of you, hopping up onto the truck beside you, resting his hand on your thigh.
“We're up next. We race against whoever wins this one.” He says. You were nervous, you always felt nervous when they were racing. The chance that there was an accident was really high with how fast they go.
The three of you walked hand in hand towards their group, Got7 had won so they were racing against Jinyoung.
“Be safe.” You sigh, giving both of them a kiss. You link your arm with Chan's as you watch them both walk away. Your eyes scan the crowd, looking at all the people here who were watching, and your eyes landed on someone familiar.
San.
Your body tenses up so much that Chan notices. He looks where you were looking, your eyes locked in with San's.
“It's okay Y/N.” Chan says, rubbing your arm. “We're not going to let anything happen to you.” He smiles. Felix and Hyunjin peel off, the race starts. You knew San was going to be here but it still affected you and you really hadn't thought it would have.
A few minutes later you notice the rest of the guys standing in a half circle, talking to someone. Chan glances over and immediately a grin plastered across his face. “I'll be right back.” He says, pulling his arm from yours and walking over to the others. You stand there alone, peeking over to see a very beautiful girl that they were all talking to. You had no idea who she was but they were all clearly smitten with her. You looked through the crowd again, but didn't see San anymore. You started to calm down a little bit now, feeling like maybe he had left.
Until you feel someone grab your wrist and try to pull you. You look over, seeing San with your wrist in his hand, pulling you towards him.
“Come with me please.” San says, pulling a little harder.
“No. Let go of me.” You say, trying to yank your wrist from his grasp.
“Y/N stop, I just wanna talk.” He says. He starts walking towards the trees, dragging you with him. You turn your head.
“Chan!” You yell. He doesn't hear you. “Chan!” You scream a little louder. He puts up a finger, “just a second, Y/N.” He yells, not even turning around. You didn't have a second.
“I just want to explain!” San grunts. You're getting too close to the trees. Panic sets in. What did you do?
Scream. Scream Y/N.
You let out a loud, ear shattering scream. Chan and the rest of the guys all turn around, looking for you in horror. Chan sees you, San's hand covering your mouth as he drags you into the trees. He, Changbin and Lee Know run towards you, luckily grabbing you before San could get too deep. By the time they reach you, the race is over. Felix and Hyunjin had won, but instead of staying in the car to wait for the next race, they bolted towards the commotion they saw happening with you. They reach you just as Chan pulls you away from San.
“What the fuck is wrong with you!?” Chan yells.
“I just wanted to talk to her!” San yells, defending himself.
“You okay, baby?” Felix asks, giving you a once over.
“How did this happen?” Hyunjin yells. “I thought you were keeping an eye on her!?”
“I was! I was talking to Jennie.. just for a minute.” Chan says.
“I yelled for you! You told me just a second!” You breathe.
Chan hangs his head. “I'm sorry, Y/N. I really didn't think he would try anything.”
“Hyunjin, you go race, I'll stay with Y/N.” Felix says, wrapping his arm around you, taking you away from the group. He had never been more angry at his leader than he was at this moment. The two of you sit there, your head resting on Felix's shoulder. You watched Hyunjin in the car waiting for the race to start. He looks over at you, blowing you a kiss. You grin as you blow one back to him. Felix takes his finger, placing it under your chin, turning your face towards his. He smiles at you before leaning in, placing a tender kiss on your lips. You feel like you're going to melt with the way his lips feel on yours.
He breaks the kiss as he hears the crowd screaming, Hyunjin was racing San. You could feel your anxiety in the pit of your stomach. If San did anything or tried anything, you swore you would kill him.
Hyunjin takes off, you watch as he speeds off leaving San in the dust. You watch intensely where the cars come around the bend for the finish line. You were desperate to see Hyunjin come first. After minutes of waiting, you see him. San closely behind him. Hyunjin switches gears, The car takes off even faster, crossing the finish line well before San. The crowd erupts in cheers. You get off the truck, running towards Hyunjin. You push through the crowd of people and he grabs you, picking you up in a hug, spinning you around. He sets you down, kissing you passionately before the guys come over to celebrate.
“We're going to the club tonight!” Chan yells. “Time to celebrate!” Everyone cheers. You turn around, seeing a defeated San walk towards his group. You almost felt bad for him. Almost.
**
Later that night, you were dressed and ready to head to the club. You were so excited to go and dance with your boys, drink, let loose and have a great time.
“Ready?” Felix asks as he walks into the room.
“Ready.” You smile, walking towards him. He lets out a whistle as he grabs your hand to twirl you around.
“Wow.” He gasps. “Hyunjin.” He yells. “Come here.”
Hyunjin walks into the room wearing a black dress shirt tucked into his black pants, same as Felix and they both looked so fucking good.
“Jesus.” Hyunjin grins. “So sexy.”
You can feel the blush creep across your face as you giggle at the compliments. “Let's go, you two.” You say, grabbing both their hands to drag them out of the room.
“You sure?” Felix asks as you tug him along. “We could just stay home? There's a few things I can think of to do.” He smirks.
“Yeah, it would be a lot more fun.” Hyunjin agrees.
“We're going to celebrate you two. Shush.” You giggle.
The club is packed. You walk in feeling the bass pound through the floors, the smell of sex and sweat fills the air. The three of you make your way to the bar, ordering a few different shots. This felt nice, being out. It felt normal which you loved. After some shots you three made your way to the dance floor. Hyunjin behind you, Felix in front. You hadn't drank in so long that it didn't take very long for the booze to kick in. You stuck out your ass, grinding it onto Hyunjins crotch while Felix was between your legs, his body pressed up against yours. The whole thing was extremely hot, and it made you even hornier than you were to begin with. the feeling of both their hands roaming your body, Hyunjin's breath on the back of your neck, Felix's breath on your ear. You'd let them fuck you right there.
After an hour of dancing, you excused yourself to the bathroom. You could feel your pussy was dripping wet for them and you couldn't wait to get home tonight. You come out of the bathroom, searching for Felix and Hyunjin. You look around and finally see them standing side by side talking to the same girl that had been at the races. You could see her laughing, throwing her head back as she touched both their arms. That pissed you off. You make your way to the bar, sitting on a stool, ordering a drink. You barely notice the man sitting beside you. The bartender sets a drink and a shot beside you. You grab the shot, turning around in your seat to watch your boyfriends with Jennie. You wondered how long it would take for them to notice you hadn't come back yet or if at all. Maybe they were so immersed in the conversation with Jennie they completely forgot they had a girlfriend. You take your shot, setting it down on the bar before grabbing your drink and turning back around again. You're sipping on your drink. And sipping. And sipping. Until you're done and they still haven't noticed. You turn around, ordering another shot and another drink, turning back again to watch them.
You take your shot and before you can turn to grab your drink, there's a man standing in front of you.
“Hello.” He smiles.
“Hi.” You say back staying straight faced.
“Are you here alone?” He asks.
“No.” You deadpan, looking around him to see Hyunjin and Felix.
“I'm talking to you.” He laughs, moving in front of your view.
“And I'm not interested.” You snap, looking up at him.
“Woah, calm down.” He laughs. “Let me buy you a drink?”
“I have a drink.” You sigh.
“Wanna dance?” He asks.
“No.” You say. “Go away please.”
“Ah, just come dance.” He laughs again, grabbing your wrist.
“Bro.” The guy next to you snaps. “She's not fucking interested. Move along.”
“Okay, bro. Is she your girlfriend?” The man asks.
“Doesn't matter if she is or not. She doesn't want to dance, she doesn't want a drink, move the fuck on.” He says, removing his hand from your wrist. The guy scoffs before leaving you alone finally.
“Thank you.” You say looking over at the man who helped you. You squint your eyes, looking a little closer. “Jinyoung?” You ask.
“Yeah?” He responds, looking at you funny.
“You were at the races.” You say. “You raced against Hyunjin and Felix.”
“Yeah I did. Oh! You're their girlfriend. That's right. I remember you.” He says.
“Thank you again for helping me. I appreciate it.” You smile.
“It's no problem. Where are those two anyways?” He asks.
You nod your head in their direction. They were still talking to Jennie and you were fucking annoyed.
“Ah.”
“I've been waiting to see how long it takes for them to notice I haven't come back from the bathroom. And this is embarrassing.” You sigh.
“That sucks. She's such a fucking cunt too.” He laughs. “She puts on a good show of being nice and flirty.”
“I don't want to be jealous. But I am. Cunt or not, they haven't even turned their heads to even peek for me. I'd love to make them jealous.” You laugh.
“Do you wanna dance?” Jinyoung asks. “I'm all for helping out.”
You grin at him as you nod your head. Maybe they won't forget about you to flirt with someone else next time. Jinyoung grabs your hand, pulling you towards the dance floor as you quickly chug your drink. He pulls you past Felix and Hyunjin, you turn your drunk head to smile at them, sticking your tongue out as you get to the front of the dance floor with Jinyoung. In their line of vision perfectly. He places his hands on your waist as you dance with him, moving your hips seductively. You can see the instant anger plastered across both their faces. You weren't sure if it was because you were dancing with another man, or because that man was Jinyoung. You continue to dance, giggling as you stick up your middle finger to them both, making them both slightly laugh. They walk away from Jennie, who turns to watch them, looking offended that they just left in the middle of a conversation.
“Y/N.” Felix says, using his deep voice.
“What?” You ask, still dancing.
“What are you doing?” He asks.
“Dancing.”
“Why are you dancing with another man?” Hyunjin asks.
“Why are you two flirting with Jennie?” You ask, now glaring at them both. “I've been out of the bathroom for 45 minutes, watching you two, neither of you wondered where I was?” You scoff.
“Baby..” Felix starts.
“Don't baby me.” You scoff. “Jinyoung here saved me when some creepy man was trying to force me to dance with him. Where were you two?” You slur.
You turn around facing Jinyoung who had been silent the whole time you'd been talking to them. You keep dancing, only for a second before Hyunjin pulls you away from Jinyoung. You turn to look at him, mouthing a ‘thank you’ as you giggle at the angry men guiding you away. He just laughs.
“I don't need help.” You say, pulling your hands away from them.
“I didn't like that.” Felix says as the three of you get outside. “Seeing you with him.”
“I could have beat the shit out of him.” Hyunjin says.
You say nothing, you just keep walking, both men behind you. You can hear them whispering but you can't hear what they're whispering about. Until you're grabbed, and dragged into an alley. You're pinned against the wall as an angry Hyunjin and Felix stare at you.
“Did you like it?” Hyunjin asks. “the feeling of his hands all over your body.”
“Did you feel his cock on your ass as you grinded with him?” Felix asks.
“Yes and yes.” You say, smirking. You wanted to rile them up. You loved it when they were jealous. You push them out of the way, continuing to stumble your way back to the house. You looked down and then back up, and Felix stood in front of you. He swiftly picks you up, throwing you over his shoulder. He walks the opposite way you were and sets you down inside a car.
You had forgotten they drove here. Felix slides in the backseat with you. You lay on your back, propping yourself up with your elbows as Felix lays semi on top of you. Hyunjin races to the house.
“I don't ever want to see another guy's hands on you ever again.” He whispers in your ear. Hyunjin pulls up to the house in record time, helping you out of the car as Felix gets out on the other side. Hyunjin pins you against the car.
“You're gonna be in big trouble if you ever do that again.” He says, placing kisses down your neck.
“Am I not in trouble now?” You gasp.
“Oh you are.” Felix smirks.
“Well so are you guys.” You say, walking towards the house.
Once you're inside, Felix slams the front door shut. The house is quiet. Everyone else is still out. You slide off your shoes, walking towards the kitchen. Felix grabs you, turning you around, pressing you against the wall. He smashes his lips to yours, kissing you harshly as he pulls up your dress. Hyunjin comes over to the two of you, peppering kisses over your neck as Felix pulls down your panties.
“After tonight, you're not going to want any other man to touch you.” Felix grunts.
This is what you had desperate been waiting for, and you couldn't fucking wait.
#straykidsland#neverendingdreams-net#lee felix#hwang hyunjin#felix and hyunjin#stray kids smut#skz smut#stray kids#skz#skz imagines#skz x reader#stray kids writing#stray kids fic#stray kids fanfic#skz fanfic
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I think I figured it out?
My favorite thing to do with Danny? And the Zone in General?
Is to just... zoom out a bit, maybe move stage left, leave the trouble and (most of the) dramatics of his teen years behind and just? Discover that not all of Death is War. Not every Obsession is violence.
Sometimes it's owning a fancy little soaps shop. Or that PERFECT garden of their dreams, where they can share with EVERYBODY, that they could never manage in life. Maybe it's the universe biggest Comics library.
Yeah, when you can't die and pain is kinda subjective, a good ol fashioned brawl IS the best way to communicate. Fist to Fist, ecto to ecto, come out the otherside understanding each other a bit better. But like?
.....you could ALSO just use your damn words, you know? Maybe some of us don't WANT to fight.
The freedom to Do Anything? Means a good chunk of us will say "Nah, we good". And move on to do other, non-violent things! Not every Area of the Zone is the SAME you know. It's like countries. Or, well, Galaxies? Since it IS far more spread out then any country will ever be.
It's why Danny probably didn't notice. Thought his area was all there is. It's the standard "my neighborhood is the default. Normal for everywhere" mindset that people unknowingly tend to have before they travel much. It's not like he had any chance to learn otherwise.
He had school in the morning. Had to stick close in case a fight broke out. How FAR could he truely travel? The end of the metaphorical street? The next block over? The Far Frozen alone was pushing it!
But then! He defeats the Tyrant of his Area of the Zone. And it's like a map filling in, in the back of his head. Perfect outline of what's "his" and "not his". And??? Wait, wut?
Why is he not surprised the Observants fuckin Lied? Pariah wasn't King Of Everything! He was king of... *head starts to violently hurt as he tries to grasp the scale of things* ow, Ow, OW! Bad idea! BAD IDEA!!! A chunk? Yeah, big chunk! Let's go with that!
It was APPARENTLY like saying "ruler of the known world". Other countries very much still existed, just APPARENTLY didn't count. Good to know! AFTER THE FACT.
At least HIS territory likes the "Wooooo! Anarchyyyyyy!" Goverment model. Frees him up to do other shit. He can come back to it LATER. But FIRST? :) Get? :) The FUCK :) Off his lawn! :) *kicks everyone back through the portal* *closes it* AND STAY INSIDE THE ZONE!
Abuse of power? Sorry, he can't hear you over his magically recovering sleep schedule and GPA. The fact he might ACTUALLY graduate. His new favorite past time of watch the GIW slowly losing both their funding AND minds. Mmmmmm~ relaxing!
He graduates.
He is the son of crazy people with a shit GPA. His parents may have finally come around on ghosts, started over on their research... with a frankly ALARMING enthusiasm, but? You can't undo decades of damage. The Fenton name is untouchable.
He applies anyway.
Goes ghost for the first time in over a year.
Is... bigger. Starlight and ice. Royal. It feels right, settled in a way. More HIM then his skin could ever hope to be. He notes it, but doesn't linger. Decides to find out what's OUTSIDE "his" territory.
And...
Huh.
The answer depends?
In one direction? An endless battle. From horizen to horizon, like shooting stars. Crashing and smashing, weapons clanging and ringing. Mad blood stained grins. Worthy opponents. A challenge that goes on forevermore.
He...backs away slowly.
Going sorta, up-ish? Leads to a weirdly muted stillness. Muffled. He can't find anybody. But the doors here are pretty... worn. He doesn't want to keep pushing.
Finally, he tries at an angle to the right. And? Spots a patrol? They look nervous to see him, but hold their ground. He asks what's in this direction. Is polite. They look incredibly relieved.
Which is how Danny? Learns about the SINGLE BEST thing ever. The thing I actively fantasize about. Long for. And gift to him because I can.
Floating island cities FULL of highly specific little shops and passion pursuits. All for damn near free, because they are mostly doing it for THEM and you just happen to be there. The islands go one for days in every direction. Overflow with color and sound and the flash of ghosts flying too and frow.
Stunned, Danny, jaw on the floor. Wanders the streets.
Finds a space themed shop and feels his eyes dilate like a cat. Mine ™. He gets a book on "First Astronaut's of their Species" and some BESPOKE space meme socks. Looks around. Decides that this? This is where his doing ALL his shopping from now on.
He's pretty sure he sees a shop dedicated solely to canned food from across the Multiverse.
There is a sale on corn(non radioactive), apparently.
He tells EVERYBODY. Well, Fenton and friends "everybody". But you get the idea! The shopping trip they organize? Is legendary. His Father finds a Fudge shop and probably scares the local ghost population with his mad Fudge Glee cackling. Mom found a weapon smith. And an old fashion lace maker. Jazz? Lost to the world of intergalactic boy bands and psychology textbooks.
Tucker made a running slide straight for the nearest tech shop. Then the butcher. And Sam?
........m....maybe if he doesn't ask? He can claim plausible deniability?
@hdgnj @legitimatesatanspawn @hypewinter @lolottes @nerdpoe
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You’re to cute -W2S
Words: 1.0k+
Warnings: pregnancy, slight worrying.
In which Harry and the boys decide to cheer you up by planning a cute evening for you and the side girls.
a/n: I love this request, so cute🥹. Protective Harry🫶🏼. I hope you all enjoy!!🤍🧸🎀
Me and Harry have been together for almost five years now. We always knew we wanted kids so when I found out I was pregnant we were elated. It's been amazing so far. We had to wait almost 3 months to tell everyone, which was torture for Harry since he can't seem to keep his mouth shut. But once we could finally tell all of our family and friends it was amazing. I could rant to Faith about the good and bad things that come with being pregnant and Harry felt a huge weight off his shoulders.
This last six months I haven't been feeling the best. I had awful morning sickness at the beginning (which is how I knew to take a test), I'm tired all the time and the hormones have been wild. One minute I'm laughing the next I'm in tears then two minutes later I'm pissed off. But the first scan, listening to the babies heart beat, finding out we're having a little girl and feeling her kick make it one hundred percent worth it.
Today Harry had to leave for a sidemen shoot early so I woke up alone in our bed. I got up, make myself breakfast, took a quick shower then put on some comfy clothes and lay back down on the bed. I sighed as I turned the tv on, then I clicked on my favourite movie. I spent almost the entire day in bed and on the sofa which has been my daily routine for quite awhile now. I've been to lunch with Talia a few times, baby shopping with Faith and Harry always makes an effort when it comes to little dates, mini golf, bowling, stuff like that. But I've still been feeling a little bit left out.
When I finally heard the front door open I smiled. After he'd put his things away Harry pushed open the door to the bedroom. His face beamed when he locked eyes with me. "How are my girls?" He asked as he sat down on the bed, beside me. "We're good. How was your day?" I moved to rest my head on his shoulder. He wrapped his arm around me. "Um some of it didn't really go to plan but I think it'll make the video funnier," He replied. "Actually... me n the boys were talking and -only if you feel up to it- we were wondering if you wanted to come out for dinner and we could watch that new movie that just came out in the cinema?" He proposed.
I smiled (tho he couldn't see my face) "that would be lovely. But don't you hate movies?" "Well I don't hate them, they're just not really my thing. But if it means getting to spend time with you and my friends then I really don't mind." My heart melted at his words, then uncontrollably tears began to spill down my cheeks. I sniffled and Harry quickly brought my face up so he could look at me. "What's wrong? We don't have to go if you don't want to." He reassured kindly. "No Harry I'm fine and I really want to go, that was just really sweet." I wiped my face. He laughed lightly then pulled me into a hug.
After getting up I brushed my hair back into a ponytail then slipped on some shoes before grabbing my phone. "Ready?" Harry asked. "Yup! Let's go." I replied with a bright smile. Harry drove (for once) and we were soon outside the cinema. He held my hand as we walked into the building. I looked around and spotted Faith, Freya and Talia standing near the popcorn, along with their boyfriends and Tobi. We walked over to them and a look of pure excitement spread across Talia's face. "You look so cute! How are you?" She pulled me into a friendly hug. "Pretty good, you?" I replied sweetly. We waited a few minutes for JJ to arrive, when he did we scanned our tickets and made our way into the theatre.
The entire movie Harry's hand was intertwined with mine, while my other one sat comfortably on my little bump. "You two are so cute." Faith whispered into my ear. I looked at her and smiled. Once the credits started to play we all got up and grabbed our things. As we walked out we decided on Nando's for dinner, since there's one just a five minute walk from the cinema.
As we were walking down the pavement a pretty big group of fans surrounded us. I was quickly pushed away from Harry as I got trapped in a small sea of people. "Hey!" I heard JJ's voice call out "move!" My eyes scanned around and they met with Ethan's. He lunged forward, pushing the teenagers out of the way. Then he gently grabbed my arm and pulled me back towards Harry. Josh, JJ and Tobi told the fans to politely "get lost." While Harry fussed over if I was ok. "Are you sure? Is the baby ok?" I nodded as my heart rate slowed "I'm fine. They didn't know. It's ok." I reassured him. Since I'm not really in the public eye we decided not to tell the fans that I'm pregnant. We want to just keep it to ourselves for now, our little secret.
With Harry on one side and JJ on my other we walked the rest of the way to the restaurant. Once we got there we found a table and sat down. Then Josh and Simon went to the front counter to order. Our food came just ten minutes after we'd ordered. We chatted amongst ourselves and I talked to Faith about the crib me and Harry had just recently ordered, since it wouldn't come for quite a few weeks and we wanted to have everything finished as early as possible. Once everyone had finished we walked back to our cars, said goodbye and headed home.
"Thank you for tonight Harry." I murmured as I lay on his chest. "I'm glad you had fun it was nice to see you laughing." He replied. My eyes closed "you're so cute." I whispered. "Good night y/n. I love you." "love you too." My voice trailed off as I fell into a deep sleep.
#w2s#harry lewis#harry w2s#wrotoshaw#wroetoshaw#w2s x reader#w2s fic#w2s imagine#wroetoshaw x reader#wroetoshaw oneshot#harry lewis x reader#harry x reader#youtuber x reader#british youtubers#x fem!reader#x y/n#x you#x reader#fanfic#image#oneshot#dad!harry#sidemen#faith kelly#talia mar#zerkaa#miniminter#ksi#tobjizzle#behzinga
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Ugh I love how the Streetkid Chris AU shows his parallels and differences to Kauri so well.
I wonder if Jake may be expecting Chris to be a little more like Kauri, and how that preconception alongside Chris being a little older and having his pill dependency vs seeing the "statue boy" in the rain will change things. Jake is very nonjudgmental so I think he'd quickly adjust to taking him how he comes, but this is a much more guarded Chris than he's used to. Plus Antoni is clearly worried about him being in the home.
Also, from Anon: please forgive me for storming into your asks so soon after you've posted already. but i am sobbing please write a continuation for streetkid chris (if you want to)
Streetkid Chris AU: One | Two | Three | Four
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CW: Brief references to dubcon, heavily internalized ableism, conditioned fear response, panic attack, meltdown with stimming that causes injury, head banging
The pills kick back in about halfway through Baldur fumbling through helping Kauri to create a bed from a pullout couch. He's had some water and a handful of crackers, in the kitchen. Kauri had pulled him into the living room and moved around the space like it was his own, pulling sheets out of a closet door Baldur hadn't even noticed yet, along with pillows that he dropped unceremoniously onto the floor before he told Baldur how to take off the couch cushions and then pull the folded-up mattress on its metal frame out. Like watching paper, he thought, that you've made snowflakes out of when you open it up.
The twinge of pain he feels when the thought comes to him makes him wince. He keeps smelling something in the oven that makes his mouth water for a familiar taste he can't remember. It's locked tight back behind the white lights in his mind, and Baldur tells his thoughts to swerve away as fast as they can, to make the pain stop threatening to take over.
He's lucky.
The pills are working.
His mind is moving slow, but it's listening to him at least. It's like syrup pouring out of a bottle onto a stack of pancakes, so slow your hand is shaking with impatience, waiting for the promised sweetness that doesn't come. He feels clouded over, wading through fog, but it's a comfortable way to be. It's being good, to be like this.
Like mornings spent lying in Sir's bed, staring upwards at the ceiling or maybe beyond it, without thinking anything at all.
It's easier, this way.
Safer.
"So, there you go," Kauri says, standing back with his hands on his hips. The couch has become a cozy bed, with a half-dozen pillows and four blankets piled up high. Baldur could sleep there for days, and as long as the pills kept coming, he wouldn't even notice he wasn't moving. "Will that work? We'll have to share, though, is that okay?"
Baldur swallows. "I-I don't, um-" No. No no no. Statue boy, he reminds himself. Good boys are statue boys. Silence is better than stammering, stillness is better than what I do. His fingers twitch, just once, and then the fog of the pills smothers his fears and presses them down. The prickling energy that bursts out of him when he's sober is safely held back. He pictures his racing mind running out of air, limbs slowing, lungs expanding just once more and then no longer. "I don't mind. I... don't like to sleep alone."
"Yeah." Kauri's face briefly goes strange, like it's been emptied-out of feeling. "Me neither. Never have. Alone is-"
"-bad," Baldur finishes, in a whisper. "No one wants you."
"Right. Yeah. They taught you that, too, huh?"
"No one wants you... then you're not real," Baldur says. He can feel his handler's hand heavy on the back of his neck, like a ghost breathing against his ear.
"... Shit. I guess even the worst shit was just part of the program, huh?" Kauri stares down at the couch-bed for one long moment of heavy silence, then he inhales sharply and laughs, empty and hollow. "We're just fucking dolls in the toy store for rich idiots to pull the legs off of, aren't we? All the same, come in the same boxes-... never mind. I'm having a weird day." He shakes himself like a dog shaking off water. "Just ignore me being weird, it happens sometimes."
"Yeah," Baldur murmurs. "Me, too. Happens... to me, too." Baldur hears an echo of someone screaming in his mind - maybe himself - but the stab of pain doesn't come. He manages to smother the memory before it can come together enough to hurt him.
Kauri takes a deep breath. "Okay, so. Weirdness steadfastly ignored, we'll just settle in and then when dinner is ready-"
The front door opens, and Baldur spins on his heels, hands slipping behind his back. Position One is thoughtless, effortless, instinctive. He always met Sir in Position One or Position Two, depending on the day. Kauri, though, doesn't slip into any position - he just smiles, wide blue eyes sparkling with a warmth Baldur has never seen in him before.
The man who walks inside isn't that much older than Baldur, but he's huge. Tall, and heavily muscled, built like the handlers who could pick Baldur up like a child and force him back against the wall or onto a table no matter how he kicked or fought, until he learned not to fight any longer. He has close-cropped ashy blond hair trending towards light brown, pale skin, and his own face lights up as soon as he sees Kauri, returning the sunshine looks they give each other.
It hurts.
Baldur's never had anyone look at him like that.
"Hey, Kauri," The man says, in a deep voice that sounds like the warm summer nights when Baldur sleeps out in the park and doesn't get cold at all. Then he looks over to Baldur, still standing in careful position, and some of the warmth fades. "Woah. Who's this?"
"Friend of mine," Kauri says, and he grabs Baldur by one arm and pulls him closer, careless of how he stumbles. Once they get close enough, Baldur can smell the tall man's cologne. It's a good smell, kind of woodsy. Not at all like Sir's, which would feel like it stuck inside of Baldur until it was all he could smell. "This is Chris."
"Hey, Chris," Jake says. His smile is back in place, but it's more polite. He holds out a hand, and after a delay, Baldur realizes he's supposed to shake and sticks his hand out. "I'm Jake Stanton."
Baldur catches the way his eyes drop, seeing the barcode on the inside of Baldur's left wrist. Nothing in his expression changes at all, but something of the fizzing tension in the air does. Baldur swallows around a tightness in his throat.
Those eyes are back on him-
Oh. Jake's eyes are blue, too. Like Kauri's but not like his at all.
"WRU, Facility 001, Designation Romantic 223499," Baldur says automatically, to the unspoken question he thinks he sees there.
"You don't have to do that here," Kauri says in a rush, putting a hand on Baldur's back. "It's not like that."
"It's... always like that," Baldur says. He thinks he sees interest in Jake's face, curiosity, and maybe that's who he'll have to give his body to, to earn dinner and the couch bed to sleep on. He can do that. As long as he keeps his mind untethered from his body, he can move his hips and arch his back and make all the sounds and drift inside of himself until it's over.
"Not here," Jake says, voice deep and gentle. He won't be so bad, Baldur thinks. He'll be slow about it, not like the ones who don't care if it hurts. He won't have to lie as hard to make it believable that he enjoys it. "You don't do that here." He turns back to Kauri, and it feels like light moves behind a cloud when his eyes are off of Baldur. "Where's Nat?"
"Up in her room," Kauri says, shrugging. "And Antoni-"
"Is here," The feline-eyed man says from the bottom of the stairs. Baldur blinks, then jumps - a half-second delayed. He hadn't even heard him come down, even though the stairs are creaky in such old houses. "I can talk to you about something?" Those dark eyes briefly rest on Baldur.
There's no warmth in them.
"Huh? What's up?"
Antoni pauses. "In my room, please, Jasha."
Baldur's heart chills. Even through the pleasant fog of pills, he can hear the coldness there. And he knows it's about him, he knows it. He's done something wrong, wrong enough to be talked about. Like handlers outside his door, talking about what he did wrong and what they'll do to make him sorry. He chokes on the fear of it - consequences hurt so much. He must have been caught swaying, or touching, or making sounds that are against his rules.
"... sure, Ant. Just a sec." Jake frowns. He leaves his sneakers on a mat by the door and follows Antoni up - the stairs creak when he walks up them. They're already talking in low voices that don't quite travel.
He hears Antoni's voice, a soft, Not sure it is a good idea for him to be here.
He did something wrong.
Suddenly, Baldur can barely breathe. His vision is blurs of color, shadow and light. His fingers twitch again, and this time they don't stop. His head is full of a crashing noise that even the pills can't hold back.
He's in trouble. He did something wrong. He's in trouble, and they'll come back down and ask, Do you know what you did, darlin'? And he'll have to guess, and he always guesses wrong.
The games are always rigged for him to lose.
You don't learn any other way, sweetheart.
His breath gets halfway down his throat and stops there. It's stuck, and he wishes he was so drunk he blacked out, or so high he slept for the next few days, until whatever he's done wrong blows over and they forget to punish him, or maybe just punish him but he doesn't remember it.
His heart beats so loud inside of him, blood rushing in his ears. His eyes go to the wall, and he can quiet the chaos inside him if he can get to it, but his feet are stuck right here to the floor. He can't. He can't, it's against his rules, he has to be good, be a statue boy, be silent be still but being still hurts so fucking much when he's scared-
Kauri isn't looking at him. He watches the two men go, thick eyebrows a little furrowed. "I wonder what that's about. Antoni can be so weird, sometimes, I swear-" He breaks off and turns, looking at Baldur. He must see something there. He must see the terror in wide green eyes, the white showing all around, in the way his fingers are shaking, how he can't quite stop bouncing on the balls of his feet with the need to get to a place he can curl up and hide, or hit his head on the wall, until the chaos quiets and he can think again.
The pills are supposed to stop this.
They don't.
"Chris?"
He flinches violently backwards when he realizes Kauri is right in front of him, has somehow moved without him seeing. Those long-fingered hands are warm, palms on either side of his face. Those big blue eyes are looking right at his, reflecting him there in Kauri's pupils. When he flinches, Kauri pulls away, and Baldur misses the warmth of touch the way he used to miss darkness when he lived always under white lights.
"Hey." Kauri's voice is soft, slow and gentle. "Hey. Chris, what's wrong? Talk to me?"
There aren't words. He can feel them, there are words, but they're trapped behind teeth on top of tongue. They shift, dipping beneath the surface before he can get his mouth around them. He can't use any of them at all. His hands move, shaking, to twist and pull at the hem of his shirt, but-
No-
Have to be still-
He can't.
He can't be still. He can't be the statue boy, the fear is too strong. And if he can't be still, he'll be in even worse trouble. It's a cycle, a loop of warm ocean water sucked up into the hurricane. It's ash blocking out the sun, killing all the dinosaurs. He remembers the dinosaurs. He remembers the asteroid hit the earth, and the planet was swept by fire burning everything that survived the strike. He remembers that his mind moves like objects in space, impossibly fast and dangerous, because it isn't allowed.
"Chris?" Kauri's swimming in and out of his awareness. He knows there are hands on him, leading him to the couch bed. He feels, distantly, the softness of pillows as his back rests against them. He knows as if staring from the top of a mountain that Kauri is speaking to him in a voice like the clouds rolling in far below.
He can hear other voices, too, but they don't make it through the haze of panic. It's derailed everything. The pills aren't helping, they're making it worse. He can sense the comforting warm blanket of being high just out of reach, and instead it's all terror, overwhelming, flooding the plain.
He knows his mouth is moving.
He can hear himself, tinny and small and from a distance too far to cover, saying, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, don't be mad, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to I didn't mean to I'm sorry, please don't be mad over and over again. He tries to be still. He hits his head on Kauri's shoulder and that strikes new terror, so he hits his head harder, then he bites - he buries teeth into skin that he only belatedly realizes isn't his when Kauri makes a sound of pain.
It's a cycle.
He's circling, he's a hurricane, his mind is dangerous and his body is wrong and it has to be stopped.
He can't stop.
He wails, half a scream that he tries to catch and pull back. The sound dips and drops, it becomes a low, wordless moan, over and over and over again. It rises from the person inside of him who used to exist before he signed his life away and they wrote a new him onto the body of the old one.
He used to be someone else.
He used to be someone better.
He used to make noises like this, before they made him stop. Before they made sure he knew that rocking - he's rocking, he feels himself sway forward and back, his fingers twisting and pulling at fabric, moving and moving to calm the rising chaos and violence inside of him - would lead to pain and fear. Before they taught him to take every pill he was given until his body was quiet and still and good for them, for the handlers for Sir for anyone who wants to fuck him or put a hand on his head and make him choke.
The thick clay shell they made him build up around himself, though, has gone brittle.
It shatters.
He rocks and rocks. He hears the sounds he is making like they belong to someone else. He feels tears, hot and burning as they track down his cheeks, cooling rapidly to drip onto his shirt, onto Kauri's shirt and neck when his face buries itself there. His sounds vibrate against Kauri's scarred collarbone. His fingers are gripped into Kauri's shirt now, holding so tight the threadbare fabric rips and his fingertips brush the heat of skin beneath. There are other voices besides Kauri's, but he doesn't listen to them, he can't listen to them or the fear will rise again.
Kauri is talking to him.
His chin is on Baldur's head, and he's talking, murmuring, "It's okay, it's okay, it's okay, I've got you, I've got you, honey, it's okay," over and over and over again. One hand is on the back of his neck, a gentle weight that starts him falling back down to earth.
He rocks with Baldur.
The hurricane starts to wear itself out, spinning and spinning but the wind dies down. He's falling out of the eye onto the ground. The noise inside his head is agony but it's agony he can hear over and around. He doesn't know how long it's been. The rocking is gentle, endless and soothing, and Kauri's other hand rubs up and down his back like-
His mother-
Someone he can't remember used to do when he did this, a long time ago.
"It's okay. You're okay. You're okay," Kauri whispers.
There are other voices, but Baldur can't hear them or he'll be a hurricane again. He keeps his thoughts on Kauri, on the rock of their bodies together, on the weight and warmth of someone holding on to him until he can come back down to earth.
The eruption stops, the flow of rivers bright orange and red and white with heat cooling to dark, solid, safe.
His bones stop burning, his head stops pounding with the noise inside of it.
Kauri is still rocking.
"I've got you," His low voice whispers, too deep for his delicate shape and size. "I've got you, Chris. Let it out, you're okay, I've got you. I've got you."
He struggles to remember how to make the feeling inside him into words, manages to whisper, " Don't-... don't go-"
"I won't," Kauri promises. His arms are tight and strong around Baldur's shaking, skinny body. "I won't. I'm right here. I'm right here."
"What the hell-" Jake's voice interrupts. "What the hell happened?"
"Why... why is he-" That's Antoni, who wanted to talk, who was talking to Jake about him. His voice is shaking, though, his accent thick and heavy. "Why he is yelling so loud-... you can make it stop? The-... screaming-"
Baldur stiffens.
Stop.
Silent.
Still.
Be good.
Good boys are statue boys, good boys-
The thought breaks apart when he hears Kauri's voice crack loud like a whip against the tile floor. "Probably because the two of you decided to go goddamn gossip. Get the fuck out of this room before I take a cast iron to your faces, you assholes."
"Shit." That's Jake, he thinks. Baldur hides against Kauri's neck until he can't possibly see their faces. The anger, the hate, how they'll be planning his punishment.
But then... footsteps.
They leave.
They go.
Because Kauri told them to.
"Let it out," Kauri murmurs, once they're alone again. "Let it out. Whatever you gotta do, you do it. I'm staying right here."
Baldur tightens his grip on Kauri's torn shirt and starts, finally, to cry. The last of the hurricane falls as tears when the wind dies, draining the terror from him to soak into Kauri's shirt.
"I, I bit you," He whispers, when the words are there. When throat and teeth and tongue work together, finally, to form them. "I'm sorry. I... I, I bit you-"
"No worries," Kauri says, right against his ear. "Didn't even draw blood. Trust me, you're not the first guy to bite - probably not even the tenth - and you won't be the last. But, just between us... I think you're probably my favorite."
Baldur starts to cry again.
This time, it's not a hurricane at all. It's summer showers, welcome warm rain soaking into a thirsty dried-out earth. He cries until he's emptied-out of the fear, until all that's left is hollow like cracked clay warming in the sun.
Like grass growing between dinosaur bones.
He used to know about that.
Someone who lived in his head did, anyway.
But he knows about it, too.
Baldur didn't.
But... Chris does.
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#streetkid chris au#streetkid au chris#whump#dubcon reference#panic attack whump#conditioned fear response#runaway whumpee#recovering whumpee#caretaker and whumpee#caretaker whump#autistic whumpee#head banging tw#negative stimming tw#panic attack tw#bbu#box boy#box boy universe#conditioned whumpee#internalized ableism#oh chris my love
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☆ LUCKY GIRL SYNDROME
ᝰ you were the luckiest girl in that tavern, and he just had to have you, hold you, hope it could rub off enough to get him through.
f!reader, dead dove do not eat, pre game setting, mention of suicide, kidnapping, confinement, alcohol consumption, stockholm syndrome ish, physical violence, noncon, oral, fingering, restraint, underwear gag, pls mind the warnings don't like don't read!
It started when he heard your laugh, a sound that reminded him simultaneously of silver bells and the audible glint of steel glancing off steel.
It had cracked apart his hunters haze inside Elfsong, enraptured by the way you threw your head back and laughed. Laughed so hard he watched you nearly double over, grip the edge of the bartop like it was all that could hold you up in the world.
He decided then he hated you. Hated you and didn't even know you. Never would, so who cares?
Almost unconsciously his senses attune to you, not far enough away that it takes any straining so he's able to sip his glass of red swill and soak up every word.
But good gods above if every word wasn't smacking of naivety, listening to you blather on about how you'd just decided to head out as some do gooder adventurer, some already self mythologized hero. With a roll of his eyes he took another mouthful of the gastly, now lukewarm wine. Tapped a fingernails edge against the glass in a lazy rhythm.
Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.
You chattered on to anyone who would spare their ear for even a moment, bursting with excitement and youth yet saddened apparently by having to leave younger siblings and your parents behind. A brother, mother, father. What a lucky girl.
Something nearly surfaced the ravaged black tar of his insides then, something just barely glimpsed from the surface and making his upper lip curl in disgust for a moment.
You don't even know what you have. Don't even know how goddamn lucky you really are. And you'd throw it away for what, a life of curling up in dirt and most likely dying in some abandoned backwater? Your bones moldering in some hovel while you leave people behind selfishly to grieve? Not any kind of life at all.
And he would know something about those kinds of lives.
He decides then, that you're perfect. It'll be so easy, painfully almost, because he can tell just by looking at you that you're already much too inebriated and much too thrilled by the feeling of any pair of eyes on you. Young and inexperienced.
Already so eager to throw it all away.
After two hundred years there was no more feeling in the action of taking someone by the hand, taking them into bed, turning them into phantoms. It was a disconnect blur as he set down the smudged glass to saunter up to you, parrot the best lines and he's glad he can't see your eyes clearly or hear your voice over the roaring blood rush as you slip your hand into his.
In record time the two of you are no more than shadows receding from the comforting glow of street lanterns.
~
When you wake it's to the prickling, tightening feeling of your scalp. Hide and seek feeling. Some distant instinct that tells you you're the prey being observed by the predator.
It's hazy in the room, the sort of darkness that usually accompanies fog if you're standing outside.
Your head pounds with the effort of memory recall and even through the dreamlike gleam you're aware you came here with someone. A man. An incredibly handsome one, one who made you feel suddenly shy and fiddle with the hair behind your ears.
Something breaks your already slippery grasp on it all, and you gasp as it comes into focus through the dark. Glinting eyes, reflective in a way that makes you think of wolves laying in wait. You pull the rumpled sheets up to your neck, fingers twisting in the fabric as your body tenses so rigidly you can't help but wince.
"Who are you? Where am I?" It doesn't take you long to find your voice, a horribly jumpy thing. Like trying to clasp your hands around a wriggling frog, erratic at it's capture.
A sharp tch, catch of tongue against the roof of a mouth. It makes you flinch.
"How insulting. I thought I gave you quite the memorable performance." The words dripped with something you struggled to place, contempt perhaps.
Another deluge of memories makes your skin run hot, as if seared by an iron. That same man's hand on you, his mouth warm and damp against your skin, the way he had you clawing at his back. Unconsciously your thighs rub together at the memory of it.
"Is it... still night?" You ask, voice finally feeling a little more corporeal though the fact that he had yet to step into your direct sight still unnerved you. Speaking only to a pair of reflective eyes wasn't something you were used to doing.
Suddenly something else occupied your mind and you aren't sure where it's come from or why but the credo of the rack stricken lord whispers against the boundaries of your brain, bringing the scalp tingling feeling back full force.
You do not trust this man.
Rather than answer he finally sets foot into view, but what should being relief instead only makes your synapses fire off in panic. The glint in his eye is hard, the set of his steps too coiled. He's waiting for you to bolt.
~
There was no luck in "surviving" the attack that left him on deaths door. There was no luck in who his savior happened to be. Well over one hundred years of torturous slog and his so called luck seemed to be preordained by god's that couldn't give less of shit. Screaming and wailing that fell on deaf, unfeeling ears. He can't even kill himself.
He despises the word luck.
He watches your sleeping form from the chair across from the bed. Eyes narrow, never missing even the barest twitch of a finger.
And then there's ones like you. Sweet as sugar syrup, just as cloying and tacky against the tongue. Ready to toss away whatever good you have in your life, ungrateful, and ignorant of what suffering could find you. Of what suffering really is.
It makes his jaw clench so hard he can hear the hinges clicking, straining.
Lucky.
Internally he's kicking himself already, but it's not like this was planned so the smaller voice inside is keeping up a give yourself a break refrain. If he had the stomach for it he would've made sure you were truly inebriated.
The halfcocked idea was already sideways, he should throw in the towel, take you back like he's supposed to. Be a good boy. Immediately the thought creates a white hot flash of anger and he resolidifies that no, he's not wasting the opportunity. Not wasting you.
A good thing the lower city has more than enough abandoned property.
It's hardly comfortable accommodations and you'll realize it soon enough but again, he was in a rush. Giddy as a child over the thought of having something to himself for once. Something to savor. Something to come back to.
Because you see part of the problem being locked inside that gaudy mansion isn't only the decor that's about five centuries behind, not even the so called kennel master overseeing his whimpering charges, it's the fact that they're allowed next to nothing for themselves.
Any scrap of ownership is ferreted away and protected with snarling teeth and the threat of violence. Too bad it never lasts long, and most give up after once or twice being thrown down to get strung up. Flesh flayed. Bones snapping like soft timber. The pain so constant you forget what it was like to live without it, it disappears into the background as if it always existed. Maybe it did. It's impossible to recall anything else.
So you see, how could anyone blame him. How could you blame him? Like a glittering necklace dangling off a branch for a crow, do you fault the beast for it's instinct to hoard it for itself? Of course not.
In an instant he's on you, pinning those arms before they can flail and shoving his fingers into your mouth before you can start making a fuss, teeth bared to display enough animosity to shut you up. All you do is squeak around his fingers like a mouse caught in oil and it satisfies him, for the moment.
He wasn't always this way. Couldn't have been. Refuses to believe that steadfastly, if anything prior to his year of confined torment in a coffin he could've even said he was almost sweet. But something shifted after that year. More apt to say something died in the way he wished he could've.
~
Angelic slumber.
He'd nicked a few of them from crates awaiting the sticky fingers of the thieves guild by the docks in grey harbor over the course of many nights, and as much as he'd like to use them for himself they're much better put to use with you.
It was good you were compliant, he could honestly say he held distaste for certain flavors of violence and didn't want to have to use any of them on you if it could be avoided.
The only bad part of it was the pity on your face. It made him feel a strange sort of irritation, bordering on rage. He didn't need your fucking pity. Better for you to be knocked unconscious so at the very least he didn't have to see the way your mouth would set in a half frown, eyes full of both anger and sadness.
The only other problem was that he didn't know where to go from here. What would he do, keep you knocked out until you died? Not viable and not really what he wanted, but he also wasn't sure what it was exactly he wanted from you.
To care about him? To know him? Gods, to love him? The thought makes him recoil as if caught in sunlight. No way that would ever, could ever, happen.
Unwillingly thoughts of the first night batter his brain like waves against rocks: how it felt to have your legs wrapped around his hips, the bite of your nails against his shoulder blades, the feeling of your lips against his clavicle.
His fingers creep against your ankle, feeling the bone and the knob of the joint as his wide eyes remain glued on you. Maybe this is part of it, after all no encounter over the last hundred years has been memorable. Only yours.
What would it make you feel to know he'd made sure to be on his best behavior at the mansion, not crossing his master or jeopardizing you by getting himself locked in the kennels. Would you even be able to understand it, to appreciate it?
He wishes you could. Maybe if you were stuck there instead you could form an appreciation for this.
Again, thinking softly about you makes him raise his lip in revulsion and his hand curls harshly around your ankle. Yanking you down, unconscious dead weight as you sleep soundly.
Do you even know how vulnerable you are?
Do you know how lucky you are he's not like most others who prowl the city streets after dark, who knows where else you would've ended up if he hadn't... intervened.
~
That first month of nights were hideous and inconvenient, no matter what he did or how kindly he approached you were belligerent. But soon enough you learned being good meant no potions and he would give you little bits of normalcy.
Such as the one in your hands now, behaving meant you could read. Not that he could offer anything you asked for specifically, it was only things he could steal when the opportunity arose but he was relieved they seemed to hold you over regardless. He'd also brought you a copy of Baldurs Mouth that he'd found discarded in the park, and as his eyes lazily scanned over it now he stopped.
There was no way he could give this to you.
There in print was all the information he really hadn't cared to know: your name, your age, where you were from. It looks like a concerned relative had badgered the Fists enough for a report to appear in the paper. Which isn't too much cause for panic, they've always been more concerned with roughing up the people for money than doing any of the faux chivalrous horse shit they preach.
He just didn't want it to renew any kind of fight in you, that would be a true irritation and there'd be no way he could talk you into a potion of angelic slumber to sedate you either. Not in a state like that. He'd have to resort to violence as he's sure you would do the same to start, like a desperate clawing thing trying to spring it's trap.
Too lost in thought he doesn't notice at first the way you drape yourself against his leg but it makes him nauseous as hes immediately snapped back to the present. With a little more malice than he realized he batted you off, kicking his leg out to keep you away solidly.
And gods be damned you actually pouted.
It makes him bark out a harsh laugh, making you skitter backwards across the floor even more until you hit the dusty plaster of the wall glaring like a petulant child. It was puzzling, he wasn't sure if he wanted you scared or pliant. Wasn't sure either one was entirely the point.
Quickly he remembers the paper now neglected by his feet, better to get rid of it before your eyes land on it.
"I thought you said I could read. I was good." Your eyes never leave him as you hold your hands close against your chest.
If he were more prone to violence he'd probably smack you across the face for the snarky tone of voice. Instead he settles for a glare as he balls the paper up in his hands, deforming and destroying it as your eyes widened.
Clearly you didn't appreciate the sudden change in the rules.
"That's not fair!"
Immediately something shifts internally, and suddenly it's like he's viewing the world through a thick layer of ice. Muted and incomplete, dreamlike.
Before your voice can go any higher he's got you by a fistful of hair, dragging you back towards the center of the room. You kick, legs jerking with no clear intentions as your fingers dig into his wrist. It doesn't feel like anything, like he's watching this occur with other people, a voyeur peeking in windows and coming across a truly regrettable scene.
You wail as he shoves you against the groaning floorboards, straddling your hips to keep you pinned down and holding your arms beside your head with so much force your features morph with the pain. An adorable little divot between your brows he'd gladly smooth away but quickly the thought is replaced by more anger that it had even occurred.
"Did you forget?" His own voice sounds foreign, a strained hiss.
Tearfully you shake your head, much too fast, but he's pleased. "Do what you say and it'll be fine."
Gods you sound so meek. A far cry from the giggling airhead in the tavern, good. Although he hates the way you say it, blankly parroting it back and for a moment he wonders if maybe he's damaged you too much by knocking you around even just that little bit.
Quickly the thought is dismissed. No, you'd be far worse off out there and besides, you're his.
It disgusts him but through the mental haze he thinks back to your earlier action, how you'd been attempting closeness. So maybe that was the real secret, he just needed to give you something that felt real enough to keep you docile. Well, it's no greater ask than what he does every time he leaves here each night. Appearances to keep up, a master to placate. Still, his stomach practically heaves but it's second nature to embrace fully the feeling of cleaving himself in half.
The part that can go through with the motions and the part that would rather be anywhere else. Rotting in the ground.
Stiffly he yanked the ties out from the neck of the flowy undershirt he wore, wrapped them around your wrists quickly. Your breathing picked up in short gulping bursts and all he felt was agitation, he wasn't indulging in this pathetic display. Roughly a hand clamps over your mouth as he looked around for something to stick in there, at least to lower the volume of your simpering.
As you slick up the palm of his hand he gets an idea, withdrawing to place a kiss against your spit soaked lips that makes you squeak in shock. Before you can question him his fingers were dipping into the waistband of your trousers, your underwear.
You didn't do much to resist so he took it as confirmation that this was what you were attempting to communicate a need for, and kept sliding them down your legs until he'd gotten them past your ankles. With another kiss, a perfectly crafted grin, he shoved the panties deep in your mouth and ignored the gag you let out.
Your upper half twisted, awkward half movements since his own body prevented you from thrashing in earnest and he watched, oddly fascinated. It was no good that you were still so willful even after a month, and he couldn't keep stealing potions eventually he'd get caught out. But it was somewhat satisfying to see you squirming, to be the one in control.
It was strange how calmly he shushed you, how gently he petted your head. Even stranger was how easily you relaxed into it, craving some form of affection after being isolated for so long. He wasn't sure you remembered your own name.
It was easy to let go and lean into it, which made him breathe a silent breath of satisfaction that he was right and that maybe this would keep you sated for a while.
Quickly his lips trail down your throat, skip over to your stomach and down your abdomen until he's got your legs spread listening to you whine as you wiggle your hips. It's easy enough to hold you down by the hips since your hands are incapacitated.
With that same dreamlike quality he finds himself licking a stripe up your soaked cunt, parting your puffy folds and being pleasantly surprised at how you groan so deeply even through the makeshift underwear gag. His every touch has your body jerking and it's strangely endearing how sensitive you must be.
In a rare moment of softness he plants a kiss to your clit, prodding the little nub with his tongue just to hear your muffled squealing. It was cute, in a weird way. Maybe this would actually be enjoyable.
The thought reinvigorated him as he slid two fingers inside you, watching with a perverted intensity at the way you suck them in and clench around them. The sound your cunt made was beyond obscene and it made him eyes blow even wider as it mingled with the broken unintelligible noises coming from your gagged mouth.
He moans in response despite himself, could angelic slumber change a person's taste or were you just naturally musky sweet? Either way it hardly mattered as his tongue worked circles against your clit, alternating between sucking on it just to hear you yelp and feel you grind against his face.
This was different, he was enjoying himself.
That alone makes his movements mirror those of a starving man at a feast table. His lucky girl, his good girl. He'll have to reward you extra after this but he doesn't mind. This is the most fun he's had in over a century.
#astarion x reader#astarion smut#astarion x female reader#astarion x you#txt ☆ˎˊ˗#astarion#dark content ☆ˎˊ˗#tw dark content
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Interviewer: why do you think everyone loves Eddie so much?
Joe Quinn: oh it's the writing, I can't take any credit.
The Duffer Bros: he's the only person that auditioned who played him as intense but not scary. He adlibbed all of Eddie's best moments, he played most of the guitar scene himself, he lost 25lbs for the role just because he thought Eddie should be more lanky, he had excellent chemistry with literally everyone he shared a scene with, he--
JQ: I guess he's a relatable guy.
#Joseph quinn#eddie munson#stranger things#jq you are a humble treasure#and I can't wait to watch good things come your way#your career is going to be so fun to watch unfold
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I still very loathe the Media Trope of ‘’cold genius man doesn’t feel emotions and never has relationships... UNTIL.. one random relatively bland Preddy Woman comes along and warps his entire personality and ability to think, his heart has grown and his seeming asexuality has evaporated, he is now Normal :)” or whatever like... AS a walking generic hermit archetype myself.. we would NOT act like that .... just let people be detached weirdos in peace, you cowards .. OR, don’t bother to write one in the first place if you find us too boring to exist realistically in our natural state lol.. pathetic
#the only exception to this is its okay if he develops some pesudo-romantic psychologial fixation on one of his long suffering male sidekicks#or assistants or whatever (since this character acrhetype ALWAYS has some sort of like Straight Man Every Man helper to follow#him around and be an audience stand in. sometimes multiple like a whole team of assistants. sometimes just one etc.)#like a strange not-entirely-romance-but-mutualy-unhealthy-comedic-codependence w someone you worked w 25+ yrs COULD be in character. sure.#ASIDE from that one exception though..... just keep them aromantic and asexual.. why would someone who has been that way for their#entire fucking life suddenly be like ''well I've known this woman three weeks but she's really hot! whoops!''#''guess I'm going to act completely out of character! sometimes booba so booby it fundametally alters the dna of me personality. you know ho#w it is'' .. like shut up.. explode#It's not that I project personally onto these characters (writers are bad at writing them and they're generally annoying as shit) BUT just#like... coming FROM the perspective OF a cold detached ''robot'' seeming hermit freak.. like textbook scholar wizard man locked#away in a tower somewhere type personality... You just watch shows sometimes and you can SEE that the writers are trying to write#the Character Archetype that is your actual realworld personality and you're just like 'we do NOT fucking act like that!!!' lol#you know ? like .. i don't actually care about the characters themselves but more just.. the principle of the thing. staying true to what#has been set up. You can't be like ''oh yeah this is your typical cold detached hermit weirdo with zero interest in human relationships for#the most part blah blah blah'' and then 5 minutes later be like ''WAIT GUYS!! LOOK! they're still NORMAL! look they love booba#too!!! haha hashtag Relatable!!'' .. what have you done to him.. you've massacred the archtype.. cowardly fool#Also I'm referencing them as male because this character archtetype is usually male but the same thing can apply for other gendered versions#of the archetype. it's ALWAYS annoying. no matter what it is lol. GOD AND IT'S even worse when they're supposed to be like hundreds or thous#ands of years old like.. some sort of supernatural being who's ''above it all'' because they've seen the world's cycles for so long#and blah blah and then it's like ''omg.. suddenly into romance.. for some reason all 900 years of my life nobody has ever been good#enough but YOU.. random ass person who I met 30 minutes ago and are completely average in every way or maybe you have like one#special power or are smart or something but apparently somehow I've lived 900 years without ever meeting a single other smart person#or whatever but WOW.. you... instant soulamtes.. I am no longer aromantic and asexual. I am also no longer smart.''#at least if it's a human with a normal lifespan you can be like 'well they were only 30. maybe they genuinely did just have their first#sexul awakening' or something but.. you're telling me like.. 900 years??? 1000 years?? and NOW they're like 'whooa!!' lol#Which obviously all aroace people are different.. all people with autism or schizoid pd or any other mental illnesses that can sometimes#lend people towards that type of 'weird hermit' archetype are all different. plenty of these people WILL have relationships and sex and desi#re those things. but it's like.. if you are OBVIOUSLY setting out to write that one VERY specific archetype within the broader archetype#then GO ALL THE WAY!! you cant have someone be like HALF-detached partial-hemrit sometimes-maybe-genuis or whatever#or I guess you can but like. it should be that way from the beginning. it's the random sudden shift in personality thats jarring
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I used to really love the first romance scene with Astarion (and I still do) but it hits so much harder after you know why he's doing it. That he's purposefully seducing you for protection and blood, that he's forcing himself to sleep with you, and this is a mask he's wearing.
It's a sexy scene and really feeds into the vampy (pun intended) jump-your-bones version of him you get at the start of the game. The whole thing starts out with him being so confident and suave, saying that he's wanted you ever since he set eyes on you and how you want to be known and tasted. It's like everyone's perfect vampire romance novel.
He's laying out the bait that's worked thousands of times over and luring you in. And you can just get right to the kissing if you want.
But, you can also stop and ask him, "And what do you want?"
And for just a moment the mask drops. This is not the same cocky seductive face we've had up until now. This is vulnerability showing. When has anyone asked him what he wants? When has anyone cared? Does he even know the answer to that question?
So he pivots. The mask snaps back into place immediately. He turns back into the master seducer and feeds you a line about shared ecstasy to get you back on track.
And then comes what is, to me, the pivotal moment. He asks you "That's what you want, isn't it? To lose yourself in me?"
Looking at his body language he seems unsure at first, maybe questioning his previous tactics. Then he slightly cowers back, lowering himself as he asks the question. The total opposite of his confidence from earlier where he's standing with his arms out wide.
He's not sure what you want anymore. You're not playing by the rules he knows. Why haven't you taken the bait yet? Why haven't you thrown yourself at him?
And when you finally Nod in agreement, confirming you're here for sex?
This. This is the face he gives you. He just looks so damn sad. To me, it hearkens back to "Of course it'll turn me into a monster. What else did I expect?"
Whatever momentary blip made him question why you're there with him, he's just been reassured about both of your roles in this situation.
He sounds so quietly resigned when he answers: "I thought so."
And then the scene transitions into the actual act. I do like to think Astarion enjoyed himself as I'm sure the PC did, but it's hard for me to watch this scene now that I know his story and history without being uncomfortable.
Just that line "lose yourself in me" is so difficult to hear. Because on paper it's so sensual. Who wouldn't want a lover to feel that way about them? But knowing the context of what Astarion expects and believes in this moment is just... oof.
And to me, this is what makes this scene brilliant. The writing, voice acting, and the mocap/animation are all just SO GOOD. It's so delicately done and Astarion the character is so good at playing a role that you can completely gloss over the deeper stuff. But once the mask is eventually stripped away you can't help but see what was there the whole time.
And as we've established, being seen is a whole aspect of Astarion's romance arc.
I originally romanced Astarion for the same reasons I'm sure most did: he's a hot, sexy vampire elf (i.e. everything that's on the surface). But, I keep coming back to him over and over again for the person I know is waiting for me underneath the mask.
#astarion#baldur's gate 3 astarion#astarion spoilers#astarion romance#baldur's gate 3#baulders gate 3 spoilers#bg3
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toji loves listening to you ramble. i really think he does. he finds your voice so soothing, so comforting, no matter whatever the fuck you're actually talking about. he's lazing on the coach at home while you're out running some errands and ranting about how stupid people can be over the phone. he laughs quietly to himself, very amused by your annoyed tone. but he loves it. he wants to hear what you've bought, where you've been, what you've eaten, where you're going next. he loves hearing you talk to the barista, never ending the call with him. he listens to you order a sweet little beverage and he's smiling, happy about the fact that you're having a good time.
he can't wait until you come home though. he already knows you're going to step inside and immediately hit him with another ramble as if you weren't just on the phone with him. he watches you kick off your shoes and remove your coat, he watches you place your bags onto the table before making your way over to him. you give him a big toothy grin and he doesn't even have time to respond because you're already falling flat on him. folding your hands on his chest, you rest your chin on top of them - staring at your boyfriend at an uncanny angle. his big arms curl around your middle and now you truly feel at home.
"arytiredfmyet?"
he rumbles a chuckle from beneath you and pinches your side, reveling in the little squeak you let out. "ya gotta speak louder than that, sweetheart."
with an eye-roll, you grumble back. "i asked whether you're tired of me yet..."
he looks so terribly comfy. and homey. and he smells so fucking good. you've never seen a boyfriend look so boyfriend. he's warm and he's looking at you with the softest eyes, despite the little smug grin that's creeping on his lips.
"ya got more for me?"
"i'm afraid so. awful, just awful things happened on the bus." you nod your head, eyes big - emphasizing your words like you almost died on your way back home and his insides feel extremely gooey. you're so close and you're warm, too. he can feel your heartbeat pounding directly above his own, the touch is just right. he knows you're tired; you've had a long day but you're still so set on talking his ears off and he loves you.
his scarred hands knead the skin of your waist. he looks like a big domesticated wolf. you want to scratch his ears. you surpress your desire to tell him that though. his lips stretch into a proper smile and your stomach fills with butterflies.
"can't wait to hear all about it, sweetheart."
#YESS WHATEVERRR I'M SOFTTTTTT#toji#toji x reader#toji x you#toji drabble#toji fluff#toji blurb#jjk toji#toji fushiguro#toji fushiguro x reader#toji fushiguro fluff#toji fushiguro drabble#toji fushiguro x you#fushiguro toji#fushiguro toji x reader#fushiguro toji fluff#fushiguro toji drabble#jjk x reader#jjk fluff#jjk drabble#toji zenin#wtf mickey can write
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she's mean, and he loves her for it.
summary: your peers wonder how the ever-so-annoying gojo satoru can stand being in a relationship with you
pairing: sunshine!gojo satoru x grumpy!female reader
genre: angst, fluff
warnings: none
Masterlist
"Did you guys know Gojo-sensei is dating-" Nobara looks around left and right before whispering your name in fear that you might be around.
"Ehhh?" Yuuji's eyebrows knit together. "No way. She's so scary and he's so...happy."
Nobara agrees, "She never smiles -- kinda looks like she has a permanent frown, too. She scares me."
"You think maybe she intimidated him to date her?"
Megumi watches as his two friends bicker about whether you and Satoru look good together, not realizing that you've heard everything they said. Megumi notices you've arrived to teach them and clears his throat, catching the attention of his two friends. He glances at you to check how you're doing after hearing what they said, but as expected, you remain professional and stoic. But Megumi knows better, he grew up under your and Satoru's wings after all.
"Shit." Nobara and Yuuji mutter under their breaths.
-----
It's fairly common for people to question your relationship with Satoru. He's this... happy-go-lucky guy who annoys everyone except those on the same wavelength as him, while you keep to yourself, prioritizing your alone time, and taking things seriously.
Sometimes, too serious.
You never let it get to you, though, because you don't really care what people say. You and Satoru are happy, that's all that matters. Until recently, when those jerk Kyoto students came over to train, they started talking about you and Satoru.
"She's so serious all the time, I don't understand how Gojo puts up with her."
"I think he's scared to breakup with her."
"I bet she's high maintenance."
"Honestly, why is he with her when he can be with someone who's... not so difficult?"
You grit your teeth at that last comment. You can't tell who said what, but it doesn't matter. Their words got to your head and now you're angry. Angry because you're scared they might be right.
Does Satoru think you're difficult? You're not entirely sure how to show them that yes, you deserve Satoru despite being the dark, grumpy person you are.
Sighing, you decide to go home instead of joining the dinner. Satoru's not in there anyway, he just got back from a mission and is waiting for you at home.
Once you close the door to your apartment, you immediately feel Satoru's arm envelope around you from behind. He smells like fresh mint -- just got out of the shower.
"Hi darling," he kisses your cheek.
"Hi, Toru." You take your shoes off and give him a quick peck before making your way to the bedroom to put your stuff down.
Satoru watches you slowly, "hm, aren't you supposed to have that dinner with the Kyoto students today?"
Your jaw clenches, taking a second before shrugging. "Decided to skip it. I'm tired."
He just hums, "In that case, you wanna watch Bridgerton with me after your shower?"
"Again?" You groan, "Isn't it like the third time you've watched it?"
"Yes, and?"
"I'll skip, thanks."
He blows a raspberry and leaves you to shower while he lays down on the couch to watch Anthony Bridgerton fall in love with his Kate Sheffield.
While you were in the shower, the words kept coming back to you. Somehow more exaggerated. You're difficult. He doesn't like you. He's just tolerating you. Why would he be with someone who doesn't even smile? Look at him, Gojo is the epitome of sunshine. You're nothing like him. Why would he like you?
Groaning, you let the hot water wash away your thoughts -- though they don't really go away. Maybe you should just try to be nicer to Satoru, be more cheerful.
After your shower, you see him lying down on the couch while watching his show, and you sit on the other end, silently dreading having to watch the same show again. But you're doing this for Satoru, so you will.
With a satisfied grin, Satoru saunters over and lies down on top of you, his head resting on your chest. You smile softly, enjoying the tight grip he has on you and his soft hair between your fingers.
"How was the mission?" You ask, "Did you have to go to Shoko?"
Satoru shakes his head, "Sweetheart, it's me we're talking about here."
"You can still get hurt, Toru." You pat his hair gently, "I've seen you bleed."
"I'm always careful. Don't worry." He kisses your hand.
You sigh softly. You know Satoru is always careful, it's just that he always goes on missions alone, and more often nowadays that it makes you worry. Yes, he's the strongest, but you never want to take that for granted.
"Toru," You call him again, a little hesitant, "You know I love you, right?"
He lifts his head from your chest, staring at you with those big blue eyes. "Of course. And I love you. So much."
He kisses you deeply, now switching positions so you're lying down on top of him. "So do you want to talk about it?"
"No.." You mumble. Of course, Satoru knows. He isn't stupid. He can sense when something's wrong with you, just like how you can feel the scar on his hip that wasn't there before. He did go to Shoko.
But none of you say anything. You just hold each other tighter that night. It's more than enough.
-----
Satoru is on another mission. It's supposed to be easy, at least that's what he said 3 days ago. You haven't heard from him at all in 3 days and you're beginning to worry. Your frown is deeper than usual, you sigh more often, and your fuse is shorter.
Everyone's more scared of you.
You let the kids take a break while you try to collect your thoughts. You can't be seen so distracted, not when Satoru left you in charge of them.
"You doing okay?" You hear Megumi's voice approach you.
Blinking away the tears that almost fell, you turn around to face him. "I'm fine, Megs."
"I told you not to call me that..." He sulks as he stands next to you, leaning against the wall. He can see you're distraught, and growing up with you, there's only been a handful of times he's seen you like this.
"You know he's going to be fine, right?"
You sigh. "I'm just worried."
You remember once when Satoru didn't come back for a week. He couldn't be reached, no one could track him down, and you were just at home, taking care of Megumi. The boy's more like you than Satoru, he's not exactly sensitive or cheery. But he knows when you're feeling sad, so he'd stay up with you, praying for Satoru's safety.
"Guys!" Yuuji runs towards you and Megumi.
"What is it, Yuuji?"
"It's Gojo-sensei-" He pants, "He's back!"
You run as fast as you can with Yuuji and Megumi, and you can finally see your white-haired, blue-eyed boyfriend limping his way back to the school grounds.
He raises his hand and waves to you with a big smile despite struggling to walk. "Tsk-" You frown even more, feeling the tears pooling again as you walk towards him and catch him in an embrace.
"Umph-" He groans. "Hi, baby."
You let go of him and check his injuries -- he's healed most of it himself, thank goodness, but the bruises are still there. "We need to go to Shoko-"
"Mm, that can wait." He pulls you to sit down on the soft grass, hugging you once again. "It's okay, I'm here now."
You choke on your own sobs and hug him tighter, sitting between his legs and burying your head in his chest. "You idiot."
"'M sorry for makin' you worry," he smiles gently, leaving kisses all over your face.
As you cup his face in your hands, you're suddenly very aware of the 3 pairs of eyes staring at you both. Noticing it too, Satoru covers your red, embarrassed face. "Okay, nothing to see here. Go.. do something. Scram. Skedaddle."
Once the kids are gone, he chuckles and thinks you're being really cute. "They're gone, sweets."
You glare at his teasing smile.
Satoru wipes away your tears, kissing your frown away. "What took you so long?" You ask after kissing him deeply, not letting him go.
A smirk lingers on Satoru's lips. "I took a detour to Kyoto after the mission to teach some kids a lesson."
#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru#gojo x reader#gojo angst#gojo fluff#gojo satoru x you#gojo x you#satoru x you#satoru x reader#satoru angst#gojo satoru angst#gojo satoru fluff#gojo satoru jjk#gojo x female reader#gojo satoru x female reader
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Sacrificial Lamb reader/vampire priest.
Just consider— a cute little lamb reader lying on the altar, begging not to be slaughtered, the tears their crying making the vampires heart flutter. All the cult members are confused why the ritual keeps getting pushed back- meanwhile the vampire is spoiling his little lamb rotten.
ohioohooohiohoo
His hands are gentle, stroking your cheek as you wake slowly, your eyes flutter open slowly to the morning light, and there he is, your keeper.
"Morning," you yawn sleepily,
"Good morning, little one,"
"is it a good morning? I thought my execution was scheduled for today." you huff, you should be more scared but the soft look on his face can only mean one thing. you get out of bed and change idly, not minding the priest as he watches you, he's a man of god after all, there's no way he'd be looking at you in lust.
"ah well, we thought so but some knew doctrine has come to light, now is not the time for sacrifices. we'll have to wait for next winter, at the very least," he says. You hum thoughtfully turning back to face him, his hungry red eyes fixed on your body, flicking up to meet your face as you turn around.
"Well, I'll make myself useful until winter then." When you were born, it had been prophecized that you would be sacrificed to the gods and your death would bring about a new golden age for your homeland. Then, on your eighteenth birthday, you'd been handed over to the church, to live out your final days in the temple, under the watchful gaze of the father and his dedicated cult. Your execution has been postponed four times now.
You wondered if the cultists even bothered setting up the altar this time. it was always something, the stars weren't aligned properly, the materials were all wrong, you fell ill and couldn't be slaughtered while sick, and now, Spring was a time for rebirth, you'd have to wait for winter for the ritual. which winter? who's to say? it might be another few years before he tries to start your sacrifice again.
He comes up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist. he puts his nose to your throat and kisses your skin. "You could be useful to me now," he breathes, his voice strained, tight with hunger. You had been so scared the first time you'd almost been killed, you remembered sobbing and pleading for your life, his knife poised above your throat, He told you that you could live, for now, if you served the cult and him. Of course, you agreed, that was the first time he bit you, spilling your blood on the altar in a different way.
You lean your neck to the side and sigh as you feel his fangs pierce your skin. you have to lean back against him for support as he drinks your blood and you grow weaker.
"so perfect, so delicious," he murmurs to himself as he drinks your blood, licking at your throat, catching any stray drops of blood. His hands slide down your body feeling up your hips and thighs. You can feel his hard cock pressing against your back as he slowly grinds against you. The priest is chaste, a man of god, but he's also a vampire, as he's explained he can't help but get erect when he feeds it's a natural side effect and completely nonsexual.
He pins you down on the bed and pushes your legs apart, grinding against you, fully clothed, as he bites your neck again. you feel dizzy, a mix of feelings as your blood is drained and as you buck and grind against the vampire on top of you. you try to keep quiet, but you can't help but moan as he takes full advantage of you. You feel dirty, the man who's saved your life so many times now is just trying to eat and here you are getting off, practically masturbating right in front of him with his cock.
You can feel how large his dick is as you grind together, you can't help but wonder what it would feel like if he pulled your underwear aside and fucked you properly while he drained your blood, the thought alone makes you shudder and press up against him as he continues to dry hump you. although with the sticky feeling between your legs and his wet mouth sucking on your neck, "dry" might be the wrong word.
you bite down on your own hand to muffle the sounds of your pleasure as you cum, still trying to hide your own lust, what would the priest think if he found out you were so lustful? if you were lucky he'd bend you over and spank you for being so sinful, at worst he might chain you down to the sacrificial altar and leave you there.
The priest pulls away, breathless, your blood smeared messily around his mouth "What a mess we've made," he huffs, looking down at your neck, and then his eyes drop further to the place where your bodies meet.
"I can clean it-" you offer weakly,
"no, no little thing, rest, you need to let your body heal, close your eyes, I'll take care of all this," he coos reassuringly, you nod obediently and close your eyes.
You look so venerable like this, he could do almost anything he wanted with you in this weakened state. the prophecy said it had to be a virginal sacrifice, maybe he could halt the ritual permanently if he just took what he'd wanted from the beginning.
#monster imagine#monster fucker#monster#monster boyfriend#teratophillia#vampire#vampire smut#werewolf boyfriend#vampire x reader#vampire x reader smut#blasphemy#tw dubcon
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𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 | 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐮𝐬 𝐥𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐧
remus’ touch after a long night prompts a tired confession (and a slew of clumsy kisses).
requested here. modern au. fem!reader, 3.6k.
˚‧꒰ა ✮ ໒꒱‧˚
“I'm going to bed,” Sirius mumbles, scratching at his eyes as he gets up. “Don't let her sleep in her makeup. She'll get an eye infection.”
Your eyes are getting sore, but it's hardly Remus' responsibility to make sure you wash your face tonight, nor Sirius’ to remind you. “I'm a big girl.”
Sirius sends you a smile, ignoring your chiding. “Goodnight, my loves,” he says, waving you both away as he heads out of the living room and up the stairs.
“Notice how he didn't do his dishes?” Remus asks, shifting beside you.
He's sitting as he tends to, slouched in a way that can't be good for his back in the long run but is clearly comfortable short term. His chin is on his chest, his legs kicked out under the coffee table, which is decorated by the casualties of the night. Sirius’ dinner plate, Remus’ mug, James’ rarely used handheld console. He'd been playing a cutesy farming sim before he said goodnight an hour ago. Sirius stayed to mess with James’ crops and eat a late supper. You're surprised it took him as long as it did to admit defeat.
“What time is it?” you ask.
You're laying on the sofa with your socked feet tucked behind Remus’ back, of which he's yet to complain. His elbow brushes your shin as he brings up his arm. “Nearly one in the morning, now,” he reads from his watch. “Let's go to bed too, yeah?”
“I don't want to.” You turn your face into the pillow behind your neck.
“Me neither,” Remus says, dropping his hand on your knee.
You watch another twenty minutes of TV together failing to summon the energy to stand, but the want for a glass of water grows too big. Your head throbs as you get up, offering your hands to the pretzel that is your favourite housemate.
Remus turns off the TV and lights. You lock the front door. He carries the dirty dishes to the kitchen and you fill up two glasses of water to take with you. It's all so… regular. A routine you share nearly every night, only to climb into your two separate beds.
He ushers you out of the kitchen and down the hallway with his hand behind your shoulders, his touch a phantom as you ascend the stairs.
You're silent beside the creak of the old wood, too tired to speak. Remus is similarly quiet, though he does whisper, “Watch,” when you nearly kick the box of Halloween decorations waiting to be taken up into the attic.
You leave your water on the towel box in the alcove and dance around one another in the bathroom. Sirius’ toothbrush lays on the sink still wet, but otherwise there's no signs of him.
You're feeling very, very tired. You hadn't realised how bad it was until you're putting your toothbrush in your mouth, leant up against the window sill, a slot of cold air seeping in from the dark outside. Your eyes shutter closed. The scrubbing sound of Remus brushing his teeth is almost lulling.
He swills out his mouth and washes his brush. “Here,” he says gently. You open your eyes just enough to see him beckoning you forward. “Dove, your necklace.”
“Oh. Thanks.” You turn your back to him.
His fingers are damp and cool on your skin as he unclasps your necklace. He often takes it off for you. It's one of the things you'll miss when you guys aren't living together anymore, the slow meander to his bedroom, the wood of his door jam on your cheek as you lean against it and give him a hopeful smile. Sometimes he's awake, reading a novel on his side in bed or listening to music at his desk, other times he's sleeping. On those occasions you spend too long lingering, stolen seconds spent staring at the rise and fall of his shoulder.
“Thank you,” you say as he puts your necklace in the jewellery dish. It comes out missing vowels, lips stuck together as though honeyed.
You spit pathetically in the sink, rinse your brush, and consider sitting down. “I'm tired,” you whine, wiping your lips.
“I know,” Remus says, giving you a fond nudge. “Just wash your face and get on with it.”
“You first. I'm going to nap standing up for a bit.”
He puts as much of his hair behind his ears as he can and turns on the tap. This is just as familiar as brushing your teeth together. It's not quite as bad as watching James Perfect Skin Potter wash his face with bar soap, but you have to admit that Remus’ eight-nine pence face soap hurts your heart. He washes it off, pats his face dry, and takes the small bottle of bio oil out of the medicine cabinet to pipette onto his pinky finger. “Wash your face,” he says, smoothing the oil into his scars one by one.
You shake your head. “M'gonna do it in the morning.”
“That's why your eye was swollen a few weeks ago. You know yourself you won't.”
“I might,” you say, letting out a big breath as you rub your sore eyes even sorer, “I'm too tired.”
“Can you sit up, at least?”
“No.” Remus takes you by the shoulders and forces you to sit on the edge of the bath. “Aggressive?”
“Don't fall in,” he says, cupping your cheek briefly as if to make sure you've heard.
You are hearing him, seeing him, even feeling the immensity of his touch, but you're tired, and you know you can let yourself relax completely with him. You'd be the same with James or Sirius, though neither of them could have your head feeling so dizzyingly light from a single touch as Remus can. You probably wouldn't let them persuade you into this, either, tilting your head back to watch through blurry vision as Remus soaks a cotton round in your facial oil.
“Close your eyes,” he says.
“Was that a dracula impression?”
“I command you.”
You close your eyes. The queasy feeling of oil drags against your lids as Remus wipes them, loosening the stiff tubes of mascara that coat your lashes. It's not a short process because he's very, very gentle, holding your face delicately as though you're a flower in need of coddling, and him the sun. It's the only metaphor that would ever make sense for you and Remus; he's like the sun even if it goes against every statement he's ever made about himself, or anyone else has, for that matter. People think he's a moody, sarcastic boy, and he is, but he's also a vestibule of sweetness, softness, and warmth. The kind of heat you'd only ever feel kissing your skin under the summer sun. But more than that, he's the relief that follows when the clouds come out.
And his hands are all over you. Your head gets heavier by the minute, eased into dozing by his touch and quiet tones. “We're almost done. I'm gonna have to carry you to bed at this rate.”
“I'm going to miss this so much one day,” you say. It's easier to admit when you're not looking at him.
Remus turns on the tap. Hot water runs, you can tell by the sound as strange as it seems, and he wrings the dirtied cotton round before replacing it with a new one. He wets it, bringing it just that touch too hot to your cheeks to wipe you down. “What are you going to miss, dove?”
“Us. You. I'm going to miss you.”
“Where are you going?”
“Nowhere, but one day I will be. James will finally have had enough of us and I'll,” —you swallow around nothing as a rivulet of water runs down your cheek, a cooling tear from the cotton round— “have to move out and we'll never see each other anymore.”
“Don't be silly, you're not going anywhere.”
“It's not about the going,” you murmur, peeling your eyes open tentatively as his dabbing follows down your cheek to your neck. “I miss you sometimes and we still live together. I can't imagine how much I'll miss you…”
Remus puts the cotton round aside. He takes your face into his hand, and suddenly his touch feels raw, nothing like it had moments ago. Because Remus would wash your makeup off for you any day of the week, but his looking at you like this, so unshielded and unabashed, is a rarity.
“You won't have to miss me. Even if we did move away from each other, I wouldn't let it be that far.”
“Friends move away all the time. We don't speak to half the people we knew at school.”
“I only really knew you and the boys,” he says. It isn't true but it is at the same time. Together, you'd been a happy lot, but your current housemates are the ones you'd known. “And see? We're still together.”
“But for how long?” you ask.
Remus brings his second hand, holding your face entirely. He covers your cheeks, index fingers sliding slowly under your ears. He's exceedingly gentle, and his eyes are soft. He holds you like you're made of glass, like you could break under a hint of pressure. Slowly, he tilts his head to the side as though he might lean in for a kiss. Maybe he doesn't know he's doing it, but Remus is a very purposeful soul. He'd do much worse to wind you up if you wanted him to.
You sober up. It's like he has caffeine in his palms.
“You want to go where I'm going, is that it?” he asks quietly.
“Yeah,” you say, barely say, voice shame-facedly weak. Is he asking what you think he is?
“Do you want to start now?”
You breathe out as one of his hands shifts down your jaw. “Yeah, I… I want to start now.”
“Okay, dove. Then close your eyes again.”
You hold his gaze for a second that feels infinitely long and short at once, your heart racing. Clarity has returned, a thrust into wakefulness even if your fatigue ties knots around your ankles. You look at him in his late night glory, his scars shining a pink-white like the petals of a young peony flower, and you know it's happening now.
You shut your eyes.
He steps closer, though the bath you're perched on is low, and he has to bend a considerable amount to reach you. The weight of his hands on you doesn't change, not even as he grows near enough to sense the heat of his breath against your lips. It's his nose that makes first contact as it slides against yours, and then his forehead presses down into you, his lips noticeably absent. Each contiguity between you thrums.
A pit opens in your chest, cleaved by his voice as he says, “I'm going to kiss you, okay? S'that what you want?”
Your hands don't feel like your own. Under the sickening nervousness twining its way through your ribs, you're excited. You're smiling, your voice shaped by it. “Yeah. It's what I want,” you say.
“Good. It's what I've wanted for a while–” while pressed into your lips, all shaken up by an emotion you've never heard him speak with. He kisses you and you're frozen, and he waits and waits and pulls away to push back in. You remember yourself then, responding to his wading with some pressure of your own. Sparked back to life.
It's so strange. It doesn't feel real. Remus Lupin kisses you heated and hard for just long enough to feel it in your teeth before he pulls away. “Sorry,” he murmurs, his fingertip running down your cheek, following that same path as your earlier rivulet. To think he saw it, really saw it, locked it away to remember and trace into your skin now… maybe he's seen much more of you than you realised all along.
“Will you do it again?” you say under your breath.
Remus must hear the thread of insecurity running through your question; you're afraid he'll say no, but he strokes your cheek again with that unfathomable softness and says, “Yeah, dove, of course I will.”
“Do you want to?”
And that's less insecurity and more selfishness, wanting the confession. He hears that, too.
“I want to kiss you more than I've ever wanted anything,” he says, eye to eye with you, your head tipped up and your heart in your throat, twitching and fizzling like a firecracker. “Yeah? And all that missing me you've been doing? All your worrying? You don't need to do that. You've never needed to do that–”
“I just never thought you liked me like that.” You and Remus aren't new to one another. “You've been the same since the day we met.”
Remus’ hands get a little more solid where he's holding you. “Dove. Dove, are you mad?”
“Remus–”
“Maybe I have been the same, but did you really not notice that I–” He squeezes your cheeks playfully, almost in disbelief. “If you want me, I'm here. I'm not going anywhere without you. You're not going anywhere without me.”
“So you like me?”
“Yes,” he says, his eyebrows pinched together at the starts. “Of course I do.” He laughs. “That's what I'm trying to tell you.”
“Oh,” you say, lifting your head.
Remus shuts his eyes a millisecond before you shut your own and kisses you again. The second round is softer, his smile to yours and struggling to find purchase. His breath huffs out in a minty laugh, shockwaves through your mouth.
“Stop laughing,” he breathes, his hands falling to your neck, your shoulders.
“You first.”
Your lips part under his, a split-second of contact. He yanks away before things can get too heavy, and you're glad he does, but for a moment you feel the loss like a wave of vertigo.
“Sorry, I'm going too fast, and you're tired.” His touch is ticklish behind your shoulder.
“It's okay. Maybe it is a bit fast, but I'm not tired anymore,” you confess.
Remus hugs you, cementing every feeling for him you have as he wraps his arms around you from over your shoulders, a deft hand cupped behind your neck. “That's not true. I can feel your back shaking. Let's go to bed.”
“After that?”
“What, are you worried it won't have happened in the morning?” he asks genuinely.
You go limp in his arms as he takes your weight against his chest. Not worried, but rather not sure you can be away from him so soon. You ask him in a whisper if you can come and sit with him, not to sleep with him, not to do anything else, and he whispers back, Anything you want. You both entertain the lie that you won't fall asleep in his bed.
—
Remus tenses as he hears the scuffling sounds of movement downstairs. It takes a train of thought awakening for him to realise it's only James, rising early as usual to put on a load of washing and prepare bits for lunch before he goes off for training. He can see him in his mind's eye if he tries, his friend dressed in the red and white rugby uniform, green socks up over his calves and white cleats scrubbed pristine for another ruck in the mud.
Remus’ relaxes, stretching out in bed until his hand bumps into something rigid.
He flinches.
You're laying on the mattress beside him, your head slipped off of the pillows and your arm tucked beneath you. It doesn't look comfortable, and if it were any other morning he'd pull it straight for you, but.
I kissed you, he thinks to himself, as though talking to you. He turns away from you until his back clicks and alleviates the ache in his hips, though he has to settle eventually, back on his back, no way of ignoring you. He doesn't want to ignore you. The opposite —why are you so far away? Can he hold you?
What are the rules here?
Kissing… not dating… You're here in his bed, you'd asked to stay.
He takes your hand and pulls at your arm. Still sleeping, you mumble and move onto your back, releasing the pressure on your shoulder as he pulls you toward his chest. Your face is impassive, lax in sleep.
He should let you sleep.
“Dove,” he says, stroking up the length of your arm.
“Mm?” you hum.
“I need to ask you something.”
You twitch awake with a small cough. Your eyes are red with a lack of sleep as you open them, blinking, and he wishes stupidly that he could make it better. He makes a sympathetic sound for want of more to do.
“Why have you woken me up?” you ask, blinking at him. You gather that there's nothing urgent happening and push your face into his shoulder, practically nuzzling him. “It's Saturday.”
“I just need to ask you something.”
“So ask me,” you encourage through your sleepiness.
The washing machine whirs downstairs. It’s an old machine that you often joke is taking off into orbit during the final spin, loud as anything. He can barely hear your sluggish breathing underneath it, but he can't miss the catch in it after he asks, “Can I be your boyfriend?”
It's not the catch he's expecting. You laugh and readjust, wrapping your arms around him from the side and kissing the side of his neck clumsily. “Y'u asked me last night,” you say in a borderless run-on, sounding about as dopily in love as he's ever heard you.
He thinks about it. Yes, he did, after he'd kissed you many more times than he should've and curled up in bed with you, hands held loosely beneath the blankets. He remembers the question, the answer. The last kiss that followed, and you falling asleep beside him.
“I need a coffee,” he says, encouraging your head back so he can kiss your temple.
“No, you need to sleep more with me. And maybe kiss me again. If you want to.”
Sleeping isn't half as interesting as kissing you. He slots his nose against yours and languishes in the feeling of your lips, wondering if he's having a false start. He could still be dreaming. It would make sense.
The door clatters open with a curse. James stands in the doorway with a folded pile of Remus' washing from the radiators in his arms, an apology on his lips, “Sorry, mate, the door got away from– oh my god. Oh my god?”
Remus isn't an overly shy guy but he can't deal with this. “For fuck's sake,” he mutters, dropping his face into your shoulder. Your arm wraps under his neck, fingers splayed across his cheek.
“James–” you begin, resigned to your fate.
“This is flat-cest. This is the cardinal sin.”
“We don't live in a flat,” Remus says.
“That makes it worse. You can't even blame close quarters.” Remus peeks up to watch James in the doorway, still clinging to Remus’ washing, pure shock curdling his features. He shakes his head. “I'm telling Sirius.”
“Please don't!” you say.
You slump back into the pillows as James leaves anyways.
Remus hugs your soft abdomen. “Don't worry,” he says.
“I guess it's a good thing you've already asked me out,” you say.
“Why, what can they do?” Remus asks, wondering if he's allowed to put his face on your chest or if that's too forward. You rake a hand through his hair and encourage him forward, to his delight.
Frantic words. You and Remus loved up in bed despite it.
“I'm chucking them out!”
“James, they've been seeing for weeks. Can I go back to sleep?”
“What?!”
You grumble into his hair. “That's not even true… Does everyone know, then? That I liked you?”
Remus thinks of the shadow of you in the doorway, that sheepish smile you send his way before you ask him to unclasp your necklace before bed, or your face as he’d wiped the sooty stain of mascara from your cheek last night, half in love with him as you fell asleep in his palm.
“I don't think so, lovely,” he comforts. “Don't worry about it. We'll clear it up at lunch time. James isn't even mad, he's just sulking thinking we didn't tell him.”
“How could you not tell me?” James asks on cue, rounding the door again, arms ever tighter around the bundle of Remus’ clothes. He assumes it's being kept hostage. “I thought we were best mates.”
“James,” you say softly, all sympathy.
Remus likes the feeling of your voice under his ear, and your slightly too-quick heartbeat. He could fall asleep here and now if it weren't for the company.
“It's new,” you're saying, softness melded to a sweet pride. “Okay? I've barely told Remus how I feel, of course I was going to tell you. We were only talking about it last night. It really hasn't been weeks, Sirius is a stirrer.”
Remus pulls the covers up over your heads and climbs on top of you in a rush, demanding that the both of you be left alone, to James’ great annoyance but your delight, your laughter loud in the shell of his ear. Your chest shakes with it beneath him.
A great wad of fabric hits him in the legs. “Twats,” James says, seemingly stalking off.
Your whisper sends shivers down his spine. “We're alone again. Do you have anything else to ask me while you're too tired to remember?” you tease.
There's not a chance in the world that Remus would ever forget this.
˚‧꒰ა ✮ ໒꒱‧˚
thanks for reading!! I really hope you enjoyed, it's been a little bit since I wrote for remus like this so I was actually a bit nervous and I hope it's okay :D <3
#remus lupin x reader#remus lupin x fem!reader#remus lupin fluff#remus lupin x you#remus lupin x y/n#marauders era#remus x reader#remus x you#marauders#remus lupin drabble#remus lupin blurb#marauders x reader#remus lupin imagine#remus lupin fanfic#remus lupin fanfiction#the marauders
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I need a feral and unhinged, touch starved Bucky to ruin me.
He’s selfish in giving and taking.
He's gone years without touching his cock, no orgasm, no relief, nothing. Any experience he has had has been long forgotten. The man loves getting his cock sucked. There’s something so filthy about the way he goes feral for it, torn between throwing his head back in pleasure and watching his cock disappear into your mouth.
He used to be such a gentleman but he can’t anymore.
He's a fucking menace because he loves how dirty it is, having his dick in your mouth of all places, letting you slobber and drool all over his length, getting his balls wet in the process.
He doesn't give a fuck who hears either, letting anyone and everyone know his cock is in your mouth, that he's getting the best head of his life.
"Fuck, suck me princess, just-yeah just like that, sucking my cock so good babydoll, makin' me so hard"
You let out a muffled whine in response, still on your knees, tears streaking down your face while he holds your face, his thumbs swiping your wet cheeks. He bites his lip while thrusting his hips forward, pushing his length down your throat. You claw at his thighs, gagging and he lets out a delicious moan seeing your arousal starting to drip with how turned on you are.
"You're makin' me feel so good sugar, you know that? Y'have any idea how good my dick feels right now, how much cum there is in my balls?" He takes a a hand off his thigh and makes you cup his heavy sack, guiding you to squeeze him while you suck, the combined feeling making his eyes roll back.
"C'mon princess, suck my balls next, never had them sucked before-oh fuck-yeah-just like that baby shit-oh fuck feels so good-" His abs tense as he moans loudly again, jerking himself while you move to lap and suck at his sack, precum dribbling down, making a mess everywhere.
He might as well be addicted to the feeling. On more than one occasion, he's missed morning training because you decided to wake him up with head and he loses himself to you, not giving a shit who is waiting for him at the door.
He hears the knocks, hears them calling for him and he'll let them know what's keeping him so busy.
"Buck, you coming-?"
"Oh Fuck yes! Suck my cock, yes, yes, yes, gonna cum, drink it up baby, c'mon, swallow, fuck yes, m'gonna cum again-don't stop princess"
"Well...technically he's coming" Sam snorted, hearing every filthy word the super soldier spewed out while Steve bit back a smirk, "I think your best friend is busy"
Steve couldn't help the proud smile that made it's way onto his face, shaking his head, quickly walking away before round two started.
Tony occasionally goes as far as cheering outside of Bucky's bedroom, especially when the steady thump of the headboard banging against the wall can be heard from downstairs.
No point hiding anything from Tony, especially when he's the one who had to install the xl mirror in the bedroom Bucky requested and god knows he didn't ask for it because he's into fashion.
He's gonna put you in positions that are unholy as it gets. He wants to watch every detail. He's gonna throw your legs all the way back till your knees hit the bed. He wants to watch his cock stretch you open. He's gonna experimentally flick that little button between your legs, using it as his own personal play toy, rubbing and pinching it to his delight just to hear you squeal.
“That’s-that’s your spot, huh princess-take my fat cock baby, doin' so good, moaning for me" He growls, watching he way you take his cock. His favorite thing to do is lock eyes with you in the mirror while your on your hands and knees watching you watch him while he fucks your brains out. Your breasts bounce with each thrust and he doesn't know what he loves to watch more. God forbid your eyes roll back, he spanks you till you focus again.
"Look at me when you take my cock baby, look at how pretty you are when you're all stretched open"
"Sargent-I-fuck-can't-
"Yeah, can't even speak huh, that how good your pussy feels baby? You wanna cum? Want me to make you cum?"
"Please!" You wail and he grabs your hair and pulls you till your back is flush against his chest. He forces your thighs apart as wide as they'll go before grabbing his phone and positioning it under, getting a perfect video of his cock pumping you full of cum while his fingers reach around to rub your swollen button.
"Go on and cum baby, cum with me, together, make your Sargent proud princess, make me dick feel good, fuck, gonna fill you till it spills out, mother fucker-FUCKK" He moans loudly with you, letting your convulsing pussy milk him dry, his veins throbbing as he shoots ropes of cum into you. The end of the video is blurry after all his cum drips onto the screen but it makes it so much filthier.
He's going to record all of this along with taking pictures, always getting you to spread your legs for him, laying on his bed after he's poured load after load into you. I want him to be the dirtiest fuck, looking at all the pictures and videos he's taken, jerking himself off afterwards when you're away for a mission. He can't have you but he's gonna take what he can get. He loves how you moan and scream, how cock drunk you get. A part of him almost feels like a pervert, tugging at his dick like a horny teenager but he can't keep his hands off when he thinks of you.
He's fucking feral even when he jerks off. Legs spread wide apart, no clothes on, back arched off the bed, fucking his hips up into his fist. He doesn't care if you walk in anymore. He was shy at first but now he just smirks while continuing to lazily touch himself, using his own spend to palm himself, the other arm propped behind his head. He knows you love the sight, planting his feet onto the bed to give you a better view while you take your clothes off-
Anyway, my bad, this was sitting in the drafts for long enough, you can go about your day now.
#bucky barnes x you#bucky x reader#bucky barnes#bucky barnes fluff#bucky x y/n#bucky barnes x f!reader#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes fanfiction#marvel smut#marvel fanfic#marvel fanfiction#marvel fanfics#avengers fluff#avenger fanfiction#avengers smut#avengers fanfiction#bucky barnes fan fic#bucky barnes fanmix#bucky barnes fan fiction#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky fan fiction#bucky fan fic#bucky fandom#bucky fanfic#bucky imagine#james bucky buchanan barnes#james bucky barnes#james buchanan barnes
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